#it’s p obvious which fic it’s from if you follow my work so it’s not hard to find it 🤷‍♂️

[mrspockify]

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[shadesoflsk]

THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?” 

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

-

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 

“More than okay.” 

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[prettyeyesnof4ce]

S.M.S.

Matt Murdock x f!reader

Summary: my rendition of sleepy morning sex with matt. that’s it, that’s the fic.

WC: 2.6k

Tags: dom!matt, his annoying tone, size kink(?), unprotected p in v, matt finishes inside (MDNI)

A/N: based on this ramble in particular, also if you couldn’t tell already, the title does not stand for “short message service”, but rather the literal abbreviation for this prompt. enjoy. also i’m happy to be back!

Read on AO3 Masterlist

The pleasure of early mornings was something you cherished. It helped that Matt practically required the intimacy. With warmth radiating between the both of you, the prospect of retreating beneath the covers for another hour or so never failed to tempt you. Clothes in disarray, breathing patterns in synchronicity, squished close in such a nauseating way, it remained ever so joyous and never tiresome. 

On rare occasions, you’d wake before Matt and the alarm clock, allowing you to writhe in the comfort of having him so close. Cutting past the displeasure of knowing you needed to be at work in an hour, all you were left with was the rise and fall of Matt’s chest. You didn’t need to calculate that he was still in deep sleep, being able to in the first place thanks to your part in whatever pile of tangled limbs you would devolve into through the night. Aforementioned, the shared warmth soothed his mind, you were a key part in the complicated lock that was Matt’s sleep routine.

Never mind all that though, you had appreciated this exact moment enough times before, it was time to initiate what you felt like you deserved. 

~

Tracing along his skin, you followed that large vein that stretched from the inside of his arm down to the crevice of his elbow. You wondered how his body still managed to be a sight for sore eyes in its resting state.

The light tapping along his arms inevitably awoke him. The blanket you shared was just below where his belly button stopped and his trail began, it sent you into more of a whirlwind than gazing at his arm muscles. 

Were his boxers always that low? You felt dumb for running that question in your mind, but nonetheless acknowledging his naked torso closer than usual made you bothered. 

Stopping those absentminded movements, your hand rested into a soft fist on his chest. He had to have been aware by now as he stirred suddenly, eyes blinking rapidly and sniffling. Been aware of the heat burning inside you, brighter than usual. Those wandering eyes of yours never went undetected, much less your pounding below.

It was almost as if he knew your thoughts, having pulled the duvet the rest of the way up to pry your seeking eyes away. 

“ ‘m cold, aren’t you?” Matt quipped.

The silence that followed was louder than the sound of your blood pumping with aggression between your thighs, a pattern in which Matt studied ever since he awoke.

“Looking for something, sweetheart?” Matt spoke suddenly, half heard due to your ear pressed firmly in the crook of his collarbone. Index finger tracing the same path from the top of his bicep to the elbow again, you struggled to say anything that didn’t alarm him to your secondary agenda even further. It was a lost cause though, that shit-eating grin already making its first appearance of the day.

“What happened to ‘good morning’, hm?” you retorted eventually, cheek squishing against his skin as you mimicked his smile that you didn’t have to peer up at. 

“Could ask you the same thing” Matt tilted his head down to peck your forehead, humming a little in the process.

‘Shit’ you thought. Was it really that obvious? You never wanted to underestimate his abilities, yet every time he called your bluff it felt like the first time. 

 He often reminded you to never refrain from using your words, but this time it was too early and he was too sleepy for such reassuring niceties. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?” With that condescending tone he mumbled those words, almost as if to nudge you into telling him just what you fucking wanted. 

What gave you confidence to speak up was reminding yourself of the fact that your own arousal got him bothered just as much as you. Soaring with that sudden energy, you took to doing the literal means that your body spoke to him. 

Nothing kept him under your grasp quite like your voice, adoring when your words were the only thing he could hear in the moment. It rang like sweet liquid trickling once in contact with Matt’s ears, soothing him particularly during those times where he was tired from the previous night's activities. He’d swear it was the second best remedy to meditating.

But coupling that with pornographic undertones, that’s what sent his own blood pumping. Talking dirty right to his face, reverberating into his being and dispersing through his senses. It was your own personal weapon, a deadly knife ready to cut deep, right at your disposal.

It made sense to Matt, it wasn’t rocket science. Your calm and swift voice taking a chokehold on his almost depraved desires, it was all he wanted and more. Plain and simple.

“I need your warmth, Matthew” you spoke quietly, toying with the dip in his sternum, adding to the tentative yet innocent tone you led with.

“...need you to stuff me full” 

His chest almost caved in at once when he drew a heavy scoff, a wide smile promptly stretching his face.

“That can be arranged” He mumbled, turning his head to the left in your direction. Suddenly he was acutely aware of your leg positioning, the inside of your thigh pressing against the bottom hem of his boxers. The heat of it being so close to his hardening erection sent nerves bunching in his abdomen. You could only imagine how unique his experience of arousal was, his entire body most likely becoming one giant soundboard, keys individually wired to every synapse in his brain. Hit the right ones and you’ve got an irrefutable code. Hardwired to self destruct.

Acting on that thought, you rutted your pelvis impossibly closer to his side, mound resting against his hip. The sheer texture of your arousal seeping through the thin fabric was enough to make his hairs surrender.

“Wanna soak you with my cum, Matthew” 

His gentle smirk dissolved into a slack expression, Adam's apple bobbing, in a mixture of shock and disbelief. Just a couple words and actions were all it took to get him hot, Matt reveling in that fact almost everyday. You were his kryptonite. 

Bunching up the gray fabric in a newly formed fist, it signaled how stiff he was, expressing the desperation for you to continue.

“What else?” He stammered, wetting his lip. Matt moved his right hand to cup the small of your waist, caressing your back slightly.That hand placed on you soon palming at the skin it found, his fingers kneading anxiously. 

“Just that, just want you…” Deciding that you used your voice enough, you took his temple in hand and motioned him toward you, soon being joined by your chill morning lips. Becoming desperate in a matter of seconds, Matt didn’t know where to grab, hands sliding up and down your clothed back and shoulders. He attempted to rid you of the oversized shirt you had slept in, only for those wandering hands to be stopped by words uttered between the kisses.

“Nuh–uh, it’s cold in here, remember?”

“Well, then i’ll just take off what’s necessary” Matt breathed, pursed lips turning into that specific devilish grin he flashed right before madness would ensue.

 His cold digits tickled your sensitive skin as they fumbled to get those damn panties down your hips and off your legs before he became impatient. It has definitely occurred more than once in Matt’s desperation to fuck you that he’s damaged your undergarments, earning a light slap from you in the process. The sound of that delicate fabric ripping signified one thing; he was the only one allowed to soil you in the multitude of ways he could.

In one fell swoop, he had thrown them off, while you slid your hand below his boxers, exploring the delicious texture of his treasure trail. Of which you were ogling before, what started this whole thing in the first place. Laying on him in that way unlocked a perfect angle to admire his toned figure, lines and ridges providing little to the imagination, especially in that low waisted underwear he chose as his favorite. 

The throaty grunt that Matt let out after you grabbed his cock would make you twitch, wetness now exceeding your closed lips and leeching onto your inner thighs. 

Despite the both of you half pulled from sleep, you still managed to find the energy to communicate through carnal need. It was like a language that required no actual words, just the brain working in tangent with sexual desire, no effort at all. 

Wordlessly, he pried and medled between your folds to reach the aggressive drum of your core, earning a similar grunt to his. This half-assed version of foreplay was surprisingly working, yet through the pleasure, Matt knew this wasn’t what you intended. 

“Get on top ‘f me, sweetheart” He urged, pulling his own boxers down far enough for his dick to go free. Loving the way it pumped full of blood with ache, the sight was much more preferred than touching it under the cover of darkness. It was ready to receive your undivided attention.

Stabilizing yourself on his chest, you hurriedly swooped your leg to straddle him, Matt getting his legs and pelvis ready to support you. Looking down at those half lidded eyes, red lips, with a smile perched at the corner, you couldn’t refuse to let him wreck you before the sun could even peek through the sky.

He could tell in the way you went silent that you thought about what the next 10 minutes would entail. Replaying those words from earlier, he reveled in how you so pointedly asked him to stuff you.

 “Mmm c’mere” Matt managed to mumble, already enjoying the thought of ruining you without having to switch positions from where he slept. Holding you close with one hand while the other lazily gripped your hip, he left lingering kisses with little “mmm's" in between. The tip had bumped heads with your core, the icy bead of pre-cum ready to be smeared at your entrance. 

 Matt was still a sucker to hear you say you needed him, having a penchant for that validation hidden in the consent to go ahead. He was waiting for you to grow impatient.

After hanging onto your lip with the edge of his teeth, he murmured a silent “Well, go ahead, you need me, right?” 

He was right of course but oh fuck you. Fuck you. 

Sitting back up straight, you steadied yourself on his kneecaps, unbreaking your gaze down to him. With that you sunk down onto him, silently hoping that the ‘foreplay’ sufficed. Meanwhile, the fucker had this complex where he knew no matter how much you warmed up, you’d still make the same sounds as if there were no preparation. Matt drowned himself in that revelation, making fucking you all the more fun.

“...need…you… ah–” It never got easier to take Matt, your cunt having to accommodate its width every single time . Head neatly parting you open, Matt winced at the contact, a silent “ fuck ” even. 

He feigned to give you any aid whatsoever, hands remaining stagnant on your hips, waiting for that specific breath you drew right before you whined about his size. An “O” would form on your face as your efforts only got half of him buried.

“Do you want some help, sweetheart?” It was quiet and beckoning, yet every time he asked that question it felt humiliating, what it really radiated was the most power-tripped tone known to man. 

Sighing, you abandoned all dignity. A meek “ please ” would be enough before he stationed his feet better ready to rut up into you.

Bracing yourself to feel the rest of him, you bit your lip when he bucked upward. Matt wasn’t satisfied until he heard the internal *pop* that came with sheathing his entire length into you.

 “There’s my girl” He cooed upon your much needed exhale, thumbs stroking your thighs as a small “ thank you for taking me so well ”. Your walls fluttered effortlessly at the force, warmth filling you up like liquid fire. 

That smirk returned to his face, Matt intentionally faltering his help, letting you take the floor. After all, it was you who begged to be stuffed, and he had fulfilled that, hadn’t he?

Knees digging into the sheets at his sides, you bounced slowly, still adjusting to Matt’s thick cock. It only remained a struggle for a moment, until you reminded yourself why you needed him so badly. To be comforted by his warmth.

“Use me, angel” He grunted low, eventual sighs of pleasure escaping you as you figured out a pace that wasn’t too much to handle. Shivers would erupt along your body, and not due to the temperature of the air, but the sensation of Matt hitting that sponge-y spot inside you. You hadn’t noticed yet, but it wasn’t for nothing, Matt actually holding onto you while tentatively meeting your strokes.

Matt, in his bliss, and probable slumber still in his being, mumbled words of encouragement. 

Something to the amount of  “--feel s’ good ‘round me…filling you up s’ good–”, which only amplified your own bliss, tempting you to egg him on back.

“Matthew– fuck ” Losing grip on his knees, you retreated to his chest, in the process allowing you to grind slightly faster, syncing better with his thrusts in a more forceful way. In the heat of it all, you could still appreciate the way his muscles tensed below, sweat covering each others’ skin.

“Love it when you say m’ name, angel– ah ” Matt raised his head off the pillow, just when your walls clenched tighter around him, the squelches of your cunt lovingly doing it for him. Even through all the slumber, he couldn’t ignore the near euphoric experience of ruining you with his well-endowment. 

“Kiss me” Meeting his lips again without breaking the pace, you whimpered into his mouth as to say “ harder ”, and he obeyed.

Fucking up into you relentlessly, Matt dug his nails into your flesh, your eyes surrendering under shut lids as the knot pulled tighter and tighter. Undoubtedly, the bed was creaking and the scent of sex flooded the air. 

“Hmm, you gonna soak m’soon, angel?” His words got closer in speed, the word ‘angel’ lurching behind your head and cementing itself in your thoughts. You needed to come undone around him. Now.

“Huh, wh’was that?” He stifled his own moans just to interrogate you, condescension coming back with intent now. Matt would delay his own release just to prod and pick at your frayed edges. Guiding you to that ledge.

He groaned one last time as he came dangerously close “Can’t hear you, sweetheart” 

Whimpering, you could only express what you felt with one word.

“ Matty!–” 

It snapped, and you were shoved into the abyss, your pelvis pathetically twitching as they tried to match his unwavering thrusts, making you come impossibly harder. Your cunt clenched rapidly, his cock twitching in response to the sensation. Eyes squeezing shut, he held onto any surface of you tight.

He would cry out through gritted teeth, your name coming out in varying keys as the heat dispersing took the wind out of him. His cum melded with your walls, that warmth causing you to whine a few “yeah’s” and “yes’s”. Matt fucked you full of his cum, hot and satisfying as you came down. You reaped what you sowed.

With the slumber now knocked out of you, and heat instilled in your bodies, you took to circling back to the conversation previous. 

“It is cold in here” you giggled, bringing the duvet back up over the two of you, Matt remaining tucked inside. 

“Told you” He kissed your forehead, hands pressed firmly into your back as your head was now resting beneath the other collarbone. Matt held you close as that grin of content tugged at his lips, the steadying of your heartbeat and breath letting him doze back off.

~

tag list (might be interested in this): @briefcasejuice @phoebe-danvers @murdocksluvrr @pleasedin @saintmurd0ck @fulmis

(I do not give permission for this or any of my work to be reposted elsewhere without my consent)

prettyeyesnof4ce © 2022

[jacksgreysays]

"like normal people do" - Sai/Shikako, cosmic horror under the guise of romance

Anonymous asked: "Memento Mori," Master of Death!Harry Potter/Shikabane-hime!Shikako, vows under the auspices (only shooting stars)-verse, because I really just want to see these two reluctant gods of death being sweet and earnest and soft with each other as the rest of the world watches in bemusement and/or wariness Anonymous asked: Nec deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus (inciderit), Shikabane-Hime 🌌🌟🦌🖤🌠 damnsmartblueboxes asked: jic tumblr ate my counting corvids fake title asks: Would you ever write an Original? Fiction about accidental body cohabitation & platonic devotion? Like cyborg & ai, Venom-style, transmigration, however the temple that is a body is devoted to two gods :p

Because there are SO MANY prompts left in my inbox and I am RUNNING OUT OF DAYS and, also, these four resonated when I went through my inbox, I will be answering these prompts together, I hope you don’t mind anon(s) and @damnsmartblueboxes!

Let me start by saying: while I do look fondly on my fic vows under the auspices (only shooting stars) and consider it some of my best work as well as love how it endeared people to my genin OCs for jounin sensei!Shikako, I’d rather not further engage in the Harry Potter franchise for obvious reasons.

However, the concept of reluctant god of death still applies to Shikabane-hime!Shikako even without an equally reluctant god of death counterpart, and the premise of your prompt still applies, for the most part, especially in combination with the other anon prompt of cosmic horror under the guise of romance. The dynamic of affection from an eldritch being, whether romantic or, as in damnsmartblueboxes’ prompt, platonic.

And what turns these prompts from my darling, dearest ambiguous vibes of god nonsense into an actually plot is the latin phrase prompt: Nec deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus (inciderit) which translates to “That a god not intervene, unless a knot show up that be worthy of such an untangler” or less literally “When the miraculous power of God is necessary, let it be resorted to: when it is not necessary, let the ordinary means be used.”

All of this mixes into the following:

Shikako’s post-Jashin coma is not JUST mental/spiritual backlash of surviving a hostile outer god’s attack. It is, in fact, a chrysalis for mortal!Shikako to turn into burgeoning eldritch god!Shikabane-hime.

UNFORTUNATELY, it gets interrupted by the entirely well-meaning, and necessarily intervention of Sai—who, even so early on, is so ready to defy Danzo on Shikako’s behalf that it’s not even funny.

The thing is—at least with butterflies—you can’t really stop the metamorphosis without, you know, killing the pupa, and if you, for example, poke a hole in the cocoon, the liquified goop that is on its way into becoming a butterfly just… spills out and dies. Uhoh

Thankfully, our girl is NOT a literal pupa. But her metamorphosis has been interrupted. What’s a devoted disciple of a burgeoning eldritch god to do?

Basically, Sai is the mortal/physical touchstone for evolving deity Shikabane-hime. I do also like playing with the idea that worship can look like dating from an outside POV—after all, whether to a partner or a god, devotion is devotion even if differently flavored.

In the damnsmartblueboxes’ vein of Original Fiction, I once wrote a script playing with the idea that the grieving process can look like a messy break up—it involved a ghost, also—so the above concept is the arguably more lighthearted version of that. I mean, it’s not entirely lighthearted, what with the eldritch god and the cosmic horror but, you know. It’s not sad, per se.

I also, keeping in line with damnsmartblueboxes’ prompt and also my own leanings in regard to canon!DoS Shikako and Sai’s relationship, would make this a platonic fic. Mostly because I think canon!DoS has SO MUCH power over Sai. Like. Again, that devotion. I didn’t make it up. That’s in there. Sai is so ready to defy Danzo’s orders to protect Shikako. The power imbalance is just too much.

I am a multishipper, so I do think there is a version of Sai and Shikako that COULD work romantically. There’s even a version of Sai and eldritch god!Shikako that could work romantically in an AU. But since the brainstorm we’re currently running along is more canon divergence than AU, I think this would work BEST as platonic. Especially to further contrast the cosmic horror under the guise of romance. Like, if it isn’t even at all romantic, just cosmic horror and platonic devotion, that makes the juxtaposition all the greater.

Anyway, as I was saying, the plot part of this is: mortal touchstone/devoted disciple!Sai is a very competent shinobi on his own, but even he can’t deal with [[insert divine level threat here]]. Everyone knows that Shikako has been teaching him fuinjutsu—that they have been getting closer/getting along more so than before—but everyone is surprised when he breaks out what looks to be the Shiki Fujin but instead of summoning the Shinigami it is instead the debut of the Shikabane-hime in full force.

What is the divine level threat? Maybe it’s Jashin again and this time, Shikabane-hime gets to go toe to toe with him rather than just slamming the door in his face. Or maybe it’s moon aliens O_O

[amethystfairy1]

hello internet stranger,

i am in love. you've infected both me and my sister with your brainrot and captivating fics, we've talked about it non-stop the past few days, so naturally we have some questions.

But first, i want to ask what your boundaries are w/ fanart and writing. i've already drawn a couple pieces, are you alright with me posting them, and what should i tag them with? Also, i'm feeling very inspired to write more zed and tango for the travelling thieves au, is that alright if i take your ideas and just yoink them? Im not planning to post whatever i write at this point :P

anyways, moving on, i have a few world-building questions for you, starting w/ traveling thieves:

how does the mercenary guild and hits system work? Can anyone put a hit out on anyone, or do they have to be a wanted criminal? also, how does gem choose her targets? i like to believe she has some sort of moral compass in picking, but knowing the world they live in, i can't be certain

this is less of a question, but i don't see how the world can be resolved. For ttsbc, the obvious solution to the undercity folk living freely is that they overthrow the overcity government or just remove the laws keeping them banned. Sure, it'd be difficult, but from what we've seen, most people don't actually have strong prejudices against the undercity, they just vaguely believe they're evil, which can be very easily disproved. For traveling thieves, it's completely different, because not only is the discrimination in the government, it's in the people themselves; merely changing the laws would not change how people see hybrids, so how can that be fixed? My best solution to them all getting a happy ending is that they run away and found their own civilization where all hybrids can be free, but it doesnt seem like a likely scenario

again, not really a question, but I'm so so so happy in the latest fh piece that they looted the bodies of their attackers. the first time i read it through, i was practically screaming at the screen, telling them to grab the loot and weapons before they continued

next, ttsbc:

4. how do the mobs work? do they act like any normal animal, in that they just kinda exist and happen to be very hostile, or do they follow minecraft mob mechanics and spawn into existence from nothing when the conditions are right? could they theoretically all be exterminated? do all of them dislike light, like the zombies in the cleo bdubs fic? if they do, why are they making their way to the overcity?

5. how did the undercity become a thing? Was it just always there, or was it manmade? did hybrids and mutants always live underground? are the pits really bottomless? and if so, is the world a globe, or is it flat? i understand you might not have thought very deeply about these things before jumping in, but my sister and i were theorizing about different answers. i figured the undercity isnt manmade just like the grand canyon isnt manmade, it just came about through natural processes, and mutants and hybrids just evolved(?) seperately from humans, underground, which is a whole other can of worms with the science behind that. an idea about the "bottomless" pits has to do with physics. at the center of the earth (if it were hollow), you wouldn't feel gravity because it would pull on you equally in all directions. so maybe the bottomless pit really just leads to the center of the earth, and you're not really falling forever, you're just suspended in the center forever lol. not falling, but not hitting the bottom, either

anyways, this was a really long ask (i hope thats ok), and i still have more to say, but i'll leave it there for now. again, i love the angst, and have a wonderful day. im gonna try to get some work done, but it probs wont happen with all the brainrot XD

Hello hello! ✨

I'm so honored that you and your sister are enjoying my AUs and fics so much! That you've been talking about them and theorizing over them is so awesome to hear! Knowing that they've become something fueling discussion is super cool!

I LOVE IT ALL! Fanart/fanworks/fanfic I wanna see all of it! I would absolutely love it if you would post your fanart! Please use either the (#traveling thieves au) or (#through the sky blue cracks) depending on which AU it is for and mention me in the post (@amethystfairy1) so I can see it! And of course you are welcome to write fics based in my AU or using my characterizations, in fact I'd love it if you did! It's the best thing to hear that my writing has inspired someone else to get creative! I know you said you had no intentions of posting it, but if you ever do, please use the same hashtags here if on tumblr, or if you use A03 list the appropriate fic/series as inspiration and please credit me in the notes if you don't mind! I'm looking forward to seeing anything either fanart/fanfic related that you've created!

ONTO THE QUESTIONS 🏃‍♀️

The mercenary guild is basically like the underground/illegal version of the adventurer guild, and they'll take any jobs that the adventurer guild won't. Blackmail, assassination, smuggling, you name it. Gem has something of a moral compass, but it isn't exactly the strictest thing in the world. We learn when she meets Mumbo in Grian's wing preening fic that she is on her way to assassinate a noblemans son, and while that is a bit of a wink wink nudge nudge if you can figure out who that son is, exactly, it's still Gem agreeing to kill a teenager who is guilty of little more than pissing off the wrong person. Cruel world and all.

Perhaps that's exactly point? 😌 With Traveling Thieves, I did not set out to make a world that could be resolved or escaped from...the whole point is that it is cruel and inescapable, and the best you can do is continue to protect yourself and those you care about...and even then, you might fail to do that. You might be set up to fail in a sick system that would never give you a chance in the first place. And the best you can do is try to put the pieces back together in the aftermath. I don't want Traveling Thieves to resolve in any traditional sense of the word...for where that'll lead all our various characters, well, you'll have to wait and see. 🤔

Loot that body LOOT THAT BODY NOW 💃

They're like your typical minecraft mobs, they spawn in places with low light levels! We've also got some homebrew monsters that I've come up with, such as the bird-men, that we will be meeting as time goes on. Certain monsters such as zombies do avoid light, but there are plenty of monsters will go above bedrock just like certain monsters in minecraft can survive in the sun, like creepers and endermen. No, they can never be exterminated because of how they spawn!

The pits aren't bottomless, we've seen the bottom after all, where Pearl, Jimmy, and Grian were in the Depths! It is a natural chasm beneath the bedrock, and the various caves and tunnels stretch are incredibly huge and diverse, so while everything connects back to the main cavern of the under-city that's so huge, there are also other caves and tunnels where other groups live that we will be learning about eventually, such as the blaze-born pyres or where Cub is from in the Deep Dark!

It is completely totally 100% ok! I love getting long asks like this that give me the chance to develop and worldbuild the AUs and mention some details that might never really show up within the fics themselves! So by all means send more questions and thoughts! And I'd also love to see the fanarts you mentioned if you still are up to posting them, I can't draw so anything anyone draws that has anything to do with my AUs makes me incredibly happy! 😆

Thanks so much for coming by! 💖

[taradactyls]

Trying to Tread Water: Chapters Twenty-Three through to Twenty-Seven

(yeah, I haven't been great at posting on tumblr)

The Marriage of Convenience fic no one asked for

Chapter Twenty-Three: Mr Darcy follows a happy Elizabeth to Longbourn, but their morning takes a turn when they arrive to find Lydia acting quite wild, and with Mr Wickham present, no less. Elizabeth tries to prevail on her father to exert some control since his health is improving, and he accepts, though not without his characteristic bluntness which Mr Darcy doesn't know how to reply to. Then there is also Jane to worry about, who has recieved another letter from Caroline Bingley.

And then the tensions over Mr Wickham are set to explode in the very next chapter...

These chapters feature: tension, arguments, learning how to communicate, and then getting caught in a London rainstorm with only one umbrella.

Read on Ao3 here

Reviews of Chapter Twenty-Three: "I'm loving the relationship between Elizabeth and Darcy. They are growing more and more comfortable together." "You just convey emotions so well, precisely yet lightly 🥰" "Oh, this is such a lovely story. the amount of work and attention to detail is just incredible, i'm so glad i found this♥️♥️♥️" "Still trying to leave more kudos here..." “You do not want to see any little Mr Collinses unleashed on the world?”/“One is quite sufficient.” Aksjsk well said Darcy, this made me laugh. ... You think it deficient in length?”/“I think it deficient in sincerity.” Heck yes call her out, Lizzy!" "I adore this fic! It's so wonderful!" "Oh wow. I have speed read the whole story to date on the last few days and now have wait for the next chapter. Wonderful writing!" "I know this is quite far from the usual plot of p&p and you're writing as close to the original style and characterisation as possible, BUT , have you considered writing Darcy punching Wickham in the face. Just once is fine. But like a real solid hit and then I'll be happy. I think it could do wonders for Wickhams character arc. Amazing chapter, thanks for the update!!!!" "Darcy is so in love with her and it's so obvious. Elizabeth is falling for him so hard and she doesn't realize it. ... I'm really really enjoying this story. I'm so happy I stumbled upon it <3" "The slow burn is killing me! It's really nice, though, to see the little moments between Darcy and Lizzy. ... Caroline Bingley always makes my blood boil. I can't believe she had the audacity to say that when she's fully aware how her brother feels for Jane! ... Awesome chapter, as always <33"

Story updates on Ao3 fortnightly, with Chapter Twenty-Eight coming out on the 5th April.

Story tags: Elizabeth/Darcy, Marriage of Convenience, Unrequited Love, Not Really Unrequited Love, Slow Burn, Pining, Pining Despite Being Married, Mr Darcy thinks his worst enemy is Wickham but maybe it's himself.

[fvkedupgirl]

NINJAGO AU DUMP BC I SAID SO !!

NINJAGO BMC AU

jeremy: jay- doesn’t get the squip to end up w nya, but instead bc he’s sick of feeling like a loser and thinks it’s be good for both him and cole if he was “cooler” bc to him cole is the coolest guy he knows and he feels like he’s holding him back socially

michael: cole- end love interest, obv obv

christine: nya- kind of plays a similar role to chloe or brooke in the sense that jay only tries to date her bc the squip tells him it’ll make him seem cool, rather than genuine feelings; has a little gossip trio w/ morro and pixal

rich: kai- got a squip a year prior, pretty much same character/purpose as rich

jenna: morro- idk i just rlly love the idea of morro being the queen of gossip @ their school

jake: lloyd- bros the green ninja ofc he’s the most popular guy @ school in this au, but also not jock popular guy like jake, more like the popular guy who’s popular bc he’s attractive but ALSO he’s just the sweetest guy. ever. and rlly oblivious to the point where u want to hate him bc of the way the ppl who are nice to him/like him are but you can’t bc he’s so sweet

chloe: pixal- listen okay she’s just a gossip girl ik im pushing it w chloe and christine here but let me LIVE okay let me have my nya pixal + morro gossip trio

brooke: zane- zane is the innocent guy that is besties w the gossip trio bc he follows pixal like a puppy and she would protect him w her life

endgame ships: bruise, bg pixane + maybe samuraishipping

would also include focuses on the dynamics between: kai + lloyd, rgb siblings, nya pixal + morro, kai + jay, + probably more if i fleshed out the whole plot a little more

thinking abt unagami squip?? or maybe some version of superstar rockin’ jay???? probably the latter tbh

SKYBOUND AU(S) BUT MAKE EM ALL BRUISE !! (rhyme time bbg)

so like on the one hand we have the obvious: replace nya w cole. which. i want to do obv bc it’s perfect and i have been planning out the details of the scene where he dies in jays arms and they turn back time and then we finally get our bruise kiss since FOREVER so im not letting my baby go even if other ppl have already written the concept b4.

ON THE OTHER HAND we have, instead of doing the same plot just switching around the roles of some of the characters, REWRITING THE WHOLE PLOT BC HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUTTTTT OKAY everyones always like “nyas the bride” “coles the bride” but what if WHAT IF WHAT IFFFFF *JAYS* THE BRIDE???? HEAR ME OUT HERE ME OUT HEAR ME OUT OKAY IVE BEEN THINKING ABT THIS IT CAME TO ME IN THE SHOWER AND I WAS LIKE. THIS. I COULD WORK WITH THIS. BC I WAS THINKING ABT LIKE SOME YUMMY COLE-PERSPECTIVE BRUISE ANGST OF S6 W THE SONG “ITS OVER, ISNT IT” THE OTHER DAY AND I WAS LIKE “HM WHAT IF I WRITE A WHOLE FIC ABT THIS” BC I CANT JUST THINK OF ONE-SIDED BRUISE BC I HATE THE ONE SIDED SHIP TROPE *BUT* ONE SIDED BUT ITS ACTUALLY NOT THEY JUST THINK ITS ONE SIDED BC THEYRE IDIOTS IS A TROPE THAT HAS SUCH A CHOKEHOLD ON ME AND NOW HERE I AM!!!!

any ways uh if i did this im kinda thinking like. nadakhans all “i wanna marry nya” and jays like “dude wtf u can’t just. marry nya ill fite u /p coles my real bbg ofc” and nadakhan says “shit u rite. too much work. plus i got me a captive rite here like it don’t matter who i marry cuz once i got my powers i can bring back that shitty girlypop of mine n e ways. damn bluey ur so smart” and jays like “wha.” so our guy writes a fun explanation of the whole marriage thing to the rest of the squad and he’s like “YOO so im bouta get married but that would not be great for me or anyone else in the whole world so maybe we should do something abt that like just so y’all know” and coles like “bitch not my MANS” and we’ll see where it goes from there bc the timeline would be V different and things would have to get done faster meaning they’d get done differently and id have to actually rewatch the season to figure out the kinks but as i continue to write this the urge to make this a reality grows every more tempting i am foaming at the mouth rn

dumped all of this into my notes and decided to share to gauge ppls interests (pls excuse any rambling my notes are full of so much rambling it’s not even funny)

[diana-fortyseven]

F O P (I do love a fancy lad) ;)

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Noooooo not dialogue, I honestly think I suck at it. xD

I like the dialogue in Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, though.

“So, what’s the plan now?” he murmured into his mug after making sure that no-one was close enough to hear him. “Now you’ll drink your cocoa and try to get a feeling for this place,” Diana said. “Familiarise yourself with the lay of the land, the smells, the sounds, the lights. What are people doing, which way are the masses moving, which stalls are the most popular among other visitors. You might want to memorise how to get to other points of interest from here.”

47 is on a mission, but so is Diana, and the mission he's actually on is not the one he thinks it is. I think the dialogue in this fic shows this quite well. :D

It was a fun fic to write, and I while I totally understand why it's not too popular (it's 47 & Diana), I wished more people would give fics that aren't 47/Diana a chance.

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?

Since I write fanfiction, and most of my fics are either from 47's or Diana's perspective, I technically always start with the characters? :D

It's usually a "wouldn't it be fun to explore this situation" or "hey, that would be an interesting setting for a mission", and then I try to figure out if the more interesting of both stories is the one told from 47's or from Diana's perspective. Sometimes that's an easy decision, sometimes I'm not sure.

For Memory Lane, I chose Diana's perspective because I wanted to preserve the feeling of not knowing what had 47 so distressed. In hindsight, I'm not sure if that was the right decision, and if it's obvious enough what he'd remembered that night.

I wrote intentionally one fic from both perspectives, Two Sides of the Same Coin, because I thought it'd add value and *sighs* perspective. It was fun and I think it worked well. That's something I usually don't so; it's more interesting to show the other person's perspective through their reactions.

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

That really depends! For plot-driven fics, I usually plot it all out with the help of Save the Cat!, but for ones that are meant to explore a situation, a character, or an emotion, I just follow the bunny wherever it leads me. If I don't like it, I can always go back and change things. That's the beauty about drafts, no-one needs to witness the chaos! :D

Alphabet Ask Game

[dayseternal-blog]

Hi! I've been reading a lot of your naruhina fic recs (+ lost and found and ofc your own naruhina fics). You're one of those people who introduced me to the naruhina rabbit hole (which I've completely forgotten since 2018 where I started pinning for this OTP). Idk if this was asked already but can you recommend me some Naruhina Hanahaki Au or stories where Hinata is sick/ Hinata is struggling with her one sided love with Naruto? Whatever works for you would be fine but I love reading more hanahaki au of Naruhina where Hinata struggles to hide her pain towards Naruto or something... It's a lot of fun to read them (tho seriously I'm not good with some heavy angst but still :P). Thank you! I seriously love your stories (tho I haven't read ALL of them but still!), you are one of those great Naruhina Author and Influencer (lol!) in Tumblr.

Hello! I'm glad that you're enjoying the fanfic recs!!!!!! I've spent hours on answering those 😅. Also, I'm honored to be one of the ones to introduce you to this rabbit hole?! And that you enjoy my fics!!!! 💖💖💖 You're laying the praise on thick here...going so far as to say "influencer" doesn't sound right...I feel more like an "observer" tbh who sometimes posts stuff. I have yet to see anyone actually "influenced" by me.

Someone has asked this before, so I'll copy-paste because it's the same still:

The only other NaruHina hanahaki au that I know of is

🌻 “Sunflowers” by @happyocelot - Rated T, Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. Hinata had a theory. Sunflowers needed warmth and light and brightness to grow, naturally orienting themselves to the sun. Sunflowers would burst forth from her lungs only in the presence of this one person, the embodiment of warmth and light and brightness. They never came out when she was cold and sad and gloomy. Only around him. The conclusions were obvious. 🌻

It's not really angsty, though. It's a different take on hanahaki from my fic.

And, within Naruto fandom in general, this SasuSaku fic inspired me, had me vibrating on it for a week, then sent me on a year-long rollercoaster ride after I read it:

🌸 “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake - Rated T, Canon-Divergent AU, Two-shot. Sasuke falls sick on love and there’s no cure. 🌸

If anyone knows of other Hanahaki AUs within Naruto fandom, doesn’t have to be NaruHina for me, show me the GOOD STUFF.

And you can scroll through my #naruhina angst fanfic rec posts to find fics where Hinata's struggling with unrequited love.

Within Hinata's one-sided love, I think these are the angstiest:

“Girl No 10″ by meeiwen - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto makes a mistake with a dancer one drunk night.  Years later when he meets her again, he begins realizing his perfect life is a lie, but he’s too late to fix it. Angst if you want to know what dying feels like warning.

“A Fate Worse than Death” by Caelestia - Rated M for smut, ABO Canon-Divergent, One-shot.  Naruto, improperly socialized and traumatized as a child, rejects his inner Alpha, which has devastating consequences on his family and marriage.  “A Risky Bet” is its fluffier follow-up.

“The Ring that Binds” by softwind - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Naruto and Hinata are married.  So why is Naruto calling “Sakura” in his sleep?

“Mistake” by Cherry1315 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto falls apart, and, unfortunately, Hinata has to pick up the pieces.

“Jitters” by ncfan - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. He has her heart but he doesn’t even know it. “The Red Umbrella” by ncfan - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. As the rain hits her, Hinata thinks about what she doesn’t have, and what she’ll never have now.

[theartofdreaming1]

Ten First Lines

I was tagged by the lovely @wurzelbertzwerg - thank you! 😊

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

Disclaimer: Since I'm super slow when it comes to posting (and updating) fics and I didn't want to include so many of my old fics, I decided to include the first lines of two of my currently still unpublished WIPs, which both have almost-finished first chapters... Maybe that'll inspire me to finally prep them for posting ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (feel free to "bully" me into working on them ;)

This Is Not Over, But Just the Beginning

Certainly, Laura had known that life could throw you the occasional curveball from time to time, subvert your expectations, disrupt your meticulously laid out plans.

2. Ocean's Treasures Washed Ashore

It was a very early morning in the picturesque fishing town of Gotham, after a particularly violent storm had raged just the night before.

3. Partners

In a police station in the rather infamous city of Blüdhaven a young police officer had just finished her shift and was now looking at the precinct’s large wall clock with an uneasy air about her.

4. On the Reciprocal Attraction of Heavenly Bodies

Quite early in her life did Barbara Gordon show great promise of following in the footsteps of other, equally formidable heroines: Her birth was considered a blessing to the honorable and well-respected Captain James Gordon and his wife -- as it ought to have been -- however, tragedy soon befell the once happy family when Mrs. Gordon died of a fever only two years after bringing her daughter into the world.

5. The Chase

Selina was now 24 and clad from head to toe in gray: she was wearing a gray bodysuit, gray gloves, gray boots and a gray mask.

6. The Taste of Something Stolen

It was Friday noon and seventeen-year-old Selina Kyle was observing the coming and goings of the Diamond District, Gotham’s financial district, her green eyes scanning the crowd for a target.

7. No Place Like Home

- Jake - “Melanie Hawkins was the most honorable cop I ever worked with,” Langdon says, completely unaffected by the stone-cold lie he's telling in court.

8. Rush Hour

For the umpteenth time, Iris smoothed out her dress and tightened the grip on her purse.

9. Attempting to Connect… [WIP]

Barbara and her father had barely entered her moderately sized apartment when she first saw it.

10. The Beast in the Cursed Woods [WIP]

There was once a small, idyllic village, within which lived a modest but happy people.

Hmm... The most obvious pattern is probably that I start off with a long-ish sentence (a pattern that will appear within my stories as well... I swear that I'm purposefully working on breaking up my long sentences more often nowadays!) - what is not featured here, is that the first, long sentence is usually followed by a second, short one, so I do provide a certain variety where sentence length is concerned ;p

Otherwise, I guess I tend to establish a mood first? Either by providing a description of the setting or the frame of mind of the protagonist. Also, I'm kind of happy that the beginning of "On the Reciprocal Attraction of Heavenly Bodies" does stand out from the rest - it's supposed to emulate Jane Austen's writing style a little and I still think it does a decent job of it.

I'm tagging: @queenofbaws , @clearbluewaters , @thychesters , @rosegardeninwinter , @icequeen-07 , @infallible-dreamers provided they feel like it and anyone else who wants to give it a shot :)

[crepesuzette2023]

Questions for 'Brian Manages (Sole Direction)' please!

7. What inspired the idea for the plot?

8. What inspired the title for this fic? Is that usually how you choose titles?

24. Did you write every scene in order? What was the first scene you wrote, and what was the last?

(behind the scenes fiction ask game)

Thank you for asking!

7—What inspired the plot?

I was closely following the prompt:

1968. paul is losing john to yoko. his relationship with jane (and seemingly everyone) is falling apart. he doesn’t know what to do or what went wrong. except, in this au, brian is still alive and does his job - keeping lennon and mccartney together. happy ending. john/paul endgame. basically just wish fulfillment 🥲 I love fic where brian just KNOWS them and reads them both like a book and, well, manages them.

I thought this prompt left room for exactly one possible plot, so you can imagine my surprise when I read @theoldmixer's completely different prompt fill! I knew I wanted to start at the beginning of the year 1968, when things started to go awry, and have Brian back at his desk by the time they're in India. In my mind, he had to be a different, sober, stronger person than he was in '67, which made me come up with the idea of some kind of therapy/ soul-searching having gone on prior to his return to work. The Brian who could have prevented the miscommunications and conflicts of '68 would have to be someone confident and less fearful of losing the Beatles than '67 Brian at his most depressed. That gave me the idea of his extended stay at the Priory to work himself out of his personal shadow and valley of death. It also felt 'obvious' to me that the story would be from Brian's POV, and it wasn't until much later that I realized the prompt actually suggests Paul's POV! I wanted Brian amongst his boys, Brian front and center, and I definitely wanted to make sure he was okay in the end, like J&P.

8—What inspired the title?

With the title, I again followed the prompt, which ends on "...Brian manages them." And because I was so frustrated with John and Paul (and myself, see below) while writing this story, I gave it the working title " Brian manages the dumbasses." Fortunately, I came across the concept of Brian taking "sole direction" in the Lewisohn book, and I thought it sounded good, and honestly kind of hot, and made it the eventual title. Also, sole/soul, wink wink, groan...

24—Did you write every scene in order?

I did have an outline, and the beginning as it is was the first thing I wrote. But I got badly stuck with the scene between Brian and Paul. In honor of Brian's love of theater, I wanted the scene to be two people talking, with meaningful beats of silence and A+ dialogue and...aarrrrgh, I just really hit a wall. So I skipped ahead and wrote the remaining scenes next. I knew I wanted to end with Brian and Nat 'almost flirting' at the bar, and then some J/P, um, activities to close out. I think the Brian/Paul conversation was was the last thing I finished.

[singlecrow]

For the fanfic ask meme: O and/or P?

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?

Both! Actually, a story for me consists of the following:

the beginning;

the worldbuilding;

something decisive and transformative that happens at the 2/3 point;

the end.

there's this one mash story of mine, Samhain - a good example because the structure of it completely eluded me for weeks so I thought about it a lot. That story begins with a long, complicated set-up - the idea is that Hawkeye & co. live in a sort-of fantasy universe, full of ghosts and strange magics, although they are still army doctors in a small village in South Korea. All of that I had with me at the start.

Then: at the two-thirds point, we see something that indicate that Hawkeye's POV is not reliable. This strange fantasy world may or may not be real, but Hawkeye himself is definitely somewhere else in his head. That's the transformative point, the other thing that came to me when I first had the idea for this story. I needed more plot, to get Hawkeye from his gentle beginning to the point where it can't help but be obvious to the reader that he's not in his right mind; and I needed the character bit, i.e. what about him has made him susceptible to not being in his right mind. But I didn't have either of those to start with except knowing vaguely that they were out there somewhere.

(Brief aside into how much I love fanfiction as a specific form. If you were writing this as pro fic, you'd have to do so much work to show why this character's mental state means he's an unreliable narrator. But because we have this shared context, as fannish people; because we understand the way the genre works, you can just gesture at it, precisely but not in great detail. Why is Hawkeye Pierce an unreliable narrator? Oh. Yes. Right. And you don't need more than a handful of paras on it.)

And the end: I never have an idea for a story without knowing how it ends. So that's definitely plot (in this particular case, it's the revelation for the reader - if he's not living in a magical universe, where is he really) and also a little bit of character (how has the character changed in the course of living through this story) but I think of it in terms of both.

Was that useful/interesting? I hope so!

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

If I plan a story entirely in advance, it flattens it for me. I can't outline in detail, because that takes away the pleasure of writing. I have a 40k novella on my hard drive that I could send out, and never have because I outlined it first and now I hate it too much.

But I'm not a gardener (is this what you hear described as "pantser" elsewhere? pants in British English are not trousers. I digress). I like my stories, both reading and writing, to have very tight structure. And I think, also, my prose style isn't particularly helpful for being a gardener. As you and everyone else knows, I don't use a lot of words where a few will do. (A. describes me as "laconic", which I love.) And to use that economical style, I need to know exactly where I'm going and why. So it's helpful for me to build my barn with beams, and sort of do the thatch later. Which is I hope a meaningful analogy? It basically means, both. Some planning, some growth.

[satelliteaccident]

hi there i recently read main and perdition and i just wanted to say (again) how much i liked it. you said that you may have some pointers on how to write in the style of the game and i actually wanted to come back to that because i want to try to write some myself soon. if you've got any tips i'm all ears. hope this isn't weird or anything 😅

hi em! not only is it not weird, you've made my day. thank you for the kind words, and thank you for giving me the chance to blather about writing and (hopefully) be useful.

*clears throat* *takes off "just chillin" hat and puts on "guy who sometimes knows what he's talking about" hat, which mostly means remembering how to find the shift key*

Hi! I'm Six. I'm an editor who has worked in the publishing industry for about ten years across print, web, radio, podcast and television.

I also write Disco Elysium fanfic. In the process of planning and writing Main and Perdition, I worked hard to craft something that I hoped would play, intelligently, in the DE sandbox.

I didn't wholly succeed. Time permitting, I'm happy to grab a figurative highlighter and point out spots where I failed, why, and what to do differently if you don't wanna do the same dumb things I did.

But this post is not that post! Instead, it's...

How To Mimic Style: Tips For Writing Your Disco Elysium Fic

Pick your playthrough.

One of the most beautiful, epic, fascinating things about DE is its multivariance. That trait extends to Harry. Is he a pacifist sober Sorry Cop who throws his gun into the sea, or a fiery anti-racist who throws hands and roundhouse kicks, or a ~mystic visionary~ who hears voices and does pyrholidon about it?

Yes! And no. Which is phenomenal to experience as a game player, but it's table-flippingly antithetical to writing a fic with a coherent emotional through-line.

So decide which Harry you're writing. It'll help you narrow down what your guy might or might not do, and it'll also help you write characters (Kim, Jean, Judit, Garte, Sylvie, and so many more) whose responses greatly depend on how Harry behaves.

It'll also help you spot places where the game, in its richness, has left space for you to write into questions it leaves unanswered -- but more on this when we get to tolerating discomfort.

Embrace the skillset.

It's daunting at first, but working with it rather than avoiding it helps you understand who's in Harry's head, what they do, and how mighty they are. (It also helps to pay attention to how they talk, but that's less about writing DE fic and more about honing an eye and ear for dialogue -- yet another possible future post.)

To help me with who and what when I was drafting M+P, I made this spreadsheet:

It was my zero-draft bestie because it helped me figure out what skills might comment in any given moment, which I suspect contributes to the places where the fic succeeds at feeling similar to the game. Feel free to use/share if it helps you, too.

As for how mighty, that's where stats come in. I didn't do a full stat sheet for M+P Harry, but I did decide his base attributes (INT-PSY-FYS-MOT). The game lets you put a total of 12 points across them; a base of 3 is average, with 1 being shithouse and 6 being HARDCORE TO THE MEGA. I also chose his signature skill (Inland Empire, which is my favourite one to write because I too am a middle-aged white bi-sexual sopping-wet-dog guy who never became a poet or an entroponaut).

I could then do the maths when deciding, "How hard would it be to succeed at [thing happening in the story]? Is that something this Harry is capable of? If so, is it obvious to him that he'll succeed, or would it *Princess Bride voice* take a miracle?"

And then, when I'm on my A-game, I follow up with my favourite DE-writing question: Regardless of whether Harry *could* succeed, would it be a chewier, more compelling story if he failed? (Yet again, more on this when we talk discomfort.)

So. Difficulty levels: know 'em, check 'em, put 'em in a stew fic. I worked from this screenshot, though I don't remember where I took it (this was at least a year ago, ack). Apologies to whichever wiki I have failed:

Let shit go wrong.

This is hard. It requires tolerating discomfort -- which is already hard -- in a situation where you are at the keyboard and can make it stop, which makes it that much harder.

But shit going wrong is the absolute beating heart of DE.

Let's weave some threads together. In the first section, I mentioned writing into spaces the game makes with unanswered questions; in the second, I mentioned making space in your fic-writing process for skill checks to fail.

Letting shit go wrong is how we as fic writers can expand into those spaces -- and when we do, sometimes, something beautiful is allowed to happen.

While I leave it to each reader to decide whether anything beautiful did in fact happen, here's one example of how this process unfolded in my practice.

I hated reading the solution to "Rigorous Self-Critique." *Hated* it. I hated what it showed me about Harry's callousness, his violence, his utter disregard for boundaries. Most of all, I hated this:

You held a young woman by the arm and kept her in your apartment for 20 minutes against her will. 

What the fuck. What the fuck? Who *does* that? (Harry.) *Why?* (Because he wanted to.)

*Fuck*.

This section, you may have noticed, left me feeling kind of a lot of discomfort.

I could've pushed that feeling away. I could've made excuses. ("I mean, the pale makes people confused about which memories are theirs and which are someone else's, right? That must be what happened, because Harry would *never* do that.") I could've done mental gymnastics to avoid the conclusion that what Harry did was wrong. ("Well, maybe he was *helping* her, and he just doesn't remember!")

I wouldn't have been -- and you, person reading this, wouldn't be -- bad for doing any of those things. Life is hard. Sometimes, elective hardness (shush) is too much. That's okay.

But I sat with the discomfort. I followed it into the space in the game: what happened in those 20 minutes? Who was this young woman -- did Harry even know or care? How did she escape? I followed it into the space in my story: what would happen if Harry, as he is post-Martinaise, failed a check (in the fic, he "succeeds", but the outcome of that success is failure #justlittleelysiumthings) and recalled what happened?

And I ended up with M+P.

It's not a perfect fic. It may not even be a *good* fic; I've spent too much time with it to have an opinion on its goodness. But it is absolutely an answer-through-story, and I feel less discomfort and more satisfaction, more joy, for having written it. I hope this post helps you have that experience, too.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Lia's sleepover

Hi lovelies! So I just saw I hit 1.5k followers. And like holy shit, I was just celbrating 1.3k not even 2 months ago, its honestly so crazy and I'm so thankful for all the love and support! So I wanted to celebrate, but since I still have an active milestone challenge (which is still open btw, more info here), I thought I'd do my first sleepover, like ever, instead.

So this sleepover will consist of two sections, writing requests and send me things. see below for all the details

General info

The sleepover will begin today, July 18th until Saturday, July 23rd. That's how long I'll be taking requests/asks specifically to be included in the sleepover. And on Sunday, July 24nd I will be posting the writing requests. Though I will answer any send me things asks throughout the week.

For obvious reasons, and as it always has been, I ask that all participants be 18+. If you are under 18, one you should not be interacting with my blog to begin with, but I can't control your media consumption, so I do ask that you respect my boundaries and you don't participate.

If you are thinking of sending a writing request (that is not a headcanon) I ask that you do it asap so that I actually have time to have it done by Sunday.

You are more than welcome to send more than one ask, like please, go crazy.

Be kind and respectful, and I do ask that you look at my hard no's before requesting, I will include those below, I will not answer asks that make me uncomfortable.

I will use the tags #lia's sleepover #sleepover and #sweet asks

Send me things section

FMW fictional characters editions, would you rather, top three of whatever

Send me a kink and I'll rate it. Fuck no | No | Rather not | Not sure | I suppose | Yes | Fuck yes | Give it to me right fucking now |

Send me a character and I'll rate them

Ask me about my favourite trope

Ask me about my works or any future works you would like to know about

Anything your heart desires!, anything you want to know, anything you want to say to me, I want to hear it all

Writing request section

Send me a character + a kink, trope or line of dialogue (from the list I will link below pls) and I'll write a drabble for it (Maybe longer if I'm really feeling it)

Send me a character and your headcannons (SFW or NSFW)

Send me your thotties fantasies about x character and I'll write a drabble, yes it can be as filthy as you want. Reference my no's list and characters I'm writing for if you're unsure

Need I remind you you must be 18+ to request anything? Yes, please please, respect my boundaries, refrain from requesting if you are under 18.

Writing request info

Here is the list of characters I'm currently writing for. Soldier Boy, Dean Winchester, Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, Javier P, and Din Djarin

As always my works are X readers, for the most part f!reader, but if there's no need for specifications it'll remain gender neutral

For the character + dialogue, I ask that you reference the list of dialogues I made in this post. But if you have a specific line of dialogue you'd like me to do that's okay too.

Here are my no's when it comes to requests. I don't have many and I'm open to pretty much anything, these are just my hard no's. Anything noncon (I've seen so many sb fics with this, I refuse to write this), anything blood kink related, BDSM themes simply because I don't know anywhere near enough to be able to write it, the obvious grooming, pedophilia, shit like that. It's not much, I'm open to pretty much anything.

Send me things!

Thank you to everyone who has liked, commented and reblogged my fics these past few weeks, you have made my summer so much more bearable and I appreciate you so much. Your support means the world to me. And thank you for allowing me to share my love of these men. Yall are awesome.

No preassure tags, tagging my lovely mutuals

@fluffyprettykitty @a-reader-and-a-writer @sketch-and-write-lover @witchisenpai @gyllenhaalstories @inklore @loverhymeswith @littlestatesman

[beautifulbows924]

I posted 916 times in 2022

That's 903 more posts than 2021!

170 posts created (19%)

746 posts reblogged (81%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@raelwrites

@beautifulbows924

@darkened-writer

@dearlawdimasimp

@crazycookiecrumbles

I tagged 599 of my posts in 2022

Only 35% of my posts had no tags

#moonknight - 214 posts

#rose’s personal - 168 posts

#asks - 117 posts

#marc spector - 76 posts

#marc spector x reader - 74 posts

#steven grant x reader - 74 posts

#rose's personal - 71 posts

#steven grant - 70 posts

#roses2kwc - 66 posts

#&lt;3 - 56 posts

Longest Tag: 122 characters

#while i was looking through the p’s i saw some of the o’s and it’s going to be hard to pick which of those i like the best

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Double the Trouble

Steven Grant & Marc Spector x Gender Neutral!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: This fic is based off of idea number 4. I needed to write something to pass the time and I really like how it came out. I’ve already written the prologue to idea number 5 and that may be coming out later today. But don’t worry this is only the first part to this story, I definitely plan on writing more. As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments and if you like my work consider leaving a tip! Thanks:)

Word Count: 1.5K+

Warnings: A little angst in the beginning, NO Spoilers, Awkward Steven, Self deprecation, Fluff, Marc and Reader have a previously established friendship.

Summary: You’ve been friends with Marc your whole life, always secretly wishing you could be something more. So when he goes missing for months and suddenly turns up at your door asking you to help make sure one of his alters, ‘Steven’, doesn’t find out about the mess his life has become- of course you say yes. But what does that mean for you and Marc? Especially, when you’ve started to fall in love with Steven too.

Next Part: Reflections

In the 6 hours you’ve been in bed you’ve woken up four times. Albeit, not for long, but a sort of pattern forms.

You stumble to the bathroom, turn on the light, look at yourself in the mirror, wonder why you got up in the first place, and fall back into bed.

Nestling yourself underneath the covers for the fourth time, it dawns on you that you’re not getting any rest tonight, much like the days of sleep leading into this one. It started out small, just not feeling as energized in the morning, and morphed into 8 hours of sleep turning into only 10 minutes of true rest.

All the nights are the same now, you spend them worrying. And it’s so blatantly obvious that Marc going missing was the trigger for your sleep or lack thereof. But you try not to think about it.

You sit in the kitchen, coffee brewing behind you. The smell of it is sobering and it wakes you up enough for you to collect your thoughts.

You’re there for a while. Your fingers mindlessly swirling the small spoon that sits in your coffee cup and your other hand keeping your face from hitting the hard table.

You wish he would send you a sign that he’s alive. A text, a phone call, even a letter. You trust him, you know he’s smart, resourceful, but his job is dangerous. It’s likely that him going this long without contact means that something went wrong.

A bang startles you awake. It’s followed by several softer bangs that you can only assume are knocks. The clock to your right reads 7:32 am. You’re not exactly sure who it is that’s knocking at this hour but you welcome the distraction.

More bangs sound at the door, “Coming!”, you jump up, wrapping your robe around you tightly.

You throw the door open, looking down and away from the early morning visitor, “Sorry, I’m not used to visitors at this hour anymore. I hope you haven’t been waiting long”, you say, gaze shifting up, shock evident on your face when you realize who it is, “Marc?”.

His disheveled look is disheartening, but at least he’s alive.

“I didn’t know where else to go”, he says, his voice is raspy like he’s lived a whole life while he was away. But just by looking at him you think that maybe he did.

He brushes past you, sitting down at your table. It’s there, underneath the light where you can see just how bad he looks. His eyes are sunken in and his shirt is way too bloody for your liking. Although, you’re not entirely sure if it’s his or someone else’s. You assume it’s the latter.

“Are you alright?”, you ask him. You’re certain he wouldn’t come here, especially like this without good reason.

“I’m not here for me”, he responds simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh”, you quirk an eyebrow, sitting down beside him, signaling for him to talk. You quickly access him for any possible wounds. You’ve become quite the nurse with him around.

“I have to tell you something important. You’re the only one I trust, but I’m scared I’ll put you in harm's way. You know what these people are capable of and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to protect you”, he’s being honest with you, you can see it in his eyes.

The worry you’ve been feeling for weeks bubbles over inside of you, “Oh, Marc”, you take his hand in yours, “I’ve barely slept in weeks. I’ve been so worried about you, what’s going on?”.

He sighs heavily, but you continue, “We’ll figure out the rest later, together, but for now you have to talk to me”.

“I can’t tell you the full story”, you give him a pointed look, “at least not yet. I’m honestly not even sure if I fully understand everything that has happened”.

“It’s okay, just tell me what you need me to know”, you reassure him, squeezing his hand tightly.

He squeezes it harder in response, “I need your help. I’m not sure how long I’ve got before he fronts again and it’s already been hard enough making everything strange seem like a dream”.

See the full post

1,025 notes - Posted April 8, 2022

#4

Of Gods and Men

Marc Spector & Steven Grant x Gender Neutral!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: This is the longest fic I’ve ever written- I’m so proud of it. The first part has elements of a request I got from @fangeekkk and the second half closely follows the events of Moonknight episode three. As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments and if you like my work consider leaving a tip! Thanks:)

Word Count: 3K+

Warnings: MAJOR MOONKNIGHT EPISODE 3 SPOLIERS, Khonshu x Reader if you squint, Angst, Several mentions of death, Reader is self destructive and critical, Layla is in this part but is Marc’s ex-wife.

Summary: You’ve been friends with Marc your whole life, always secretly wishing you could be something more. So when he goes missing for months and suddenly turns up at your door asking you to help make sure one of his alters, ‘Steven’, doesn’t find out about the mess his life has become- of course you say yes. But what does that mean for you and Marc? Especially, when you’ve started to fall in love with Steven too.

Previous Part: Reflections

Next Part: White Lies

The moon taunts you, serving as a constant reminder of Marc and Steven.

Your nights are blending together again. You spend them awake and worried, a painful ache in your chest that never goes away.

It hurts. You don’t know where they are- if they’re safe.

You assume as long as Marc is needed that Khonshu will keep him alive, but what happens when their work is done? Will he simply leave him to rot?

You try not to think about it.

You wish you knew where they went. You’re no mercenary, but you can hold your own in a fight. You trained with Marc for years in case you ever needed to protect yourself. He was always terrified he would somehow put you in harm’s way.

You’re certain that’s why he didn’t tell you where he was going, and why he refuses to take any of your calls.

You’re calling him again, unsure how many voicemails you’ve left, but you don’t care. You’ll call until the end of time if you must.

It rings, over and over again, until it stops. You try again.

The last ring has the phone meeting the wall in front of you with a loud smack, leaving a dent behind. The impact shakes the mirror above where it hit, the same mirror privy to everything that happened between you.

You’re angry still, not thinking of the consequences of your actions. Your chair scrapes against the kitchen tile.

You walk towards the mirror, intending to destroy it, hoping it will alleviate some of the hurt you’re feeling. You’re mainly furious at yourself, upset you didn’t tell Steven the truth when you had the chance, heartbroken you may never get the time to explain.

Your hands clasp the mirror, bringing it down to you and your reflection makes you pause.

You haven’t slept or eaten since Marc forced you to go that night, and you can tell it’s taking a toll on you. You know he’d be mad that you’re neglecting yourself if he was here and the thought has you sinking to the floor, hugging the mirror like it’s the last thing you have of both of them.

“Good, I don’t need to intervene”, a low voice says, the sound filling the entire room. Your eyes dart around, trying to find the source, but all you find is open air.

“I'm certain Marc wouldn’t want his pet injured, even if they themselves were the ones to cause it”, it continues, close enough to make you jump.

You breathe in shakily, tilting the mirror up, and directing it towards the empty space beside you. A grey beak nearly leans on your shoulder, sharp tip close enough to stab you in the eye if you turned slightly to the right.

"K-Khonshu?”, you stutter out, certain he’s the only god who would pay you a visit.

The beak moves, allowing you to see him more clearly. “I will only say this once”, he tells you, “Marc refuses to ask for help, human pride. Instead, I do it for him”.

“I offer you a deal. When Harrow is dead, I will leave them alone. If and only if, you make yourself available to be mine”.

You’re not entirely sure why he wants you as his avatar. You’re certainly not as capable as Marc or as intelligent as Steven. You feel overwhelmingly average when compared to them, despite your obvious advantage over the general population.

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1,135 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

#3

A Night to Remember

Steven Grant, Marc Spector, & Khonshu x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: This is a very silly oneshot I came up with based off of a request by @babieluci. Thanks again for over 2000 followers! And if you’re interested- come check out my Writing Challenge. As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments and if you like my work consider leaving a tip! Thanks:)

Word Count: 1K+

Warnings: Fluff, No Spoilers, Multiple smut mentions.

“You are not asking them that!”

“What are you going to do about it? I have control of the body”, Marc responds, equally annoyed, “Who am I kidding- even if you did have control you still wouldn’t do anything about it”.

“I just need a bit of time to figure out how to do it- ‘s all”, his alter mutters, fiddling with his hands, “I want to make it special”.

Marc sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, “If one of us doesn’t just get this over with, Khonshu is going to get to them first and I hate to say this, but I’d rather share them with you”.

“Khonshu is interested in them too!?”, Steven asks, jaw opening and closing, mortified.

“Yes, now decide! Now. Who’s doing this?”

“Give me the body, I’ll ask them- you’re too abrasive”, he tells him, gesturing to the weapon that’s still in Marc’s hands.

“I’m not abrasive, I’m just forward”, he grunts.

“Same difference.”

A knock sounds at the door. It’s quite late for visitors, but you welcome the distraction. Your chair scrapes against the tile as you move to open it.

“Steven?”, you ask, immediately noticing it’s him based on his posture and relaxed features.

“Can I come in?”, he asks, walking inside before you’ve even answered.

He stiffens as his body brushes against yours, worrying you’ll be upset that he touched you, but you only look at him fondly. It makes him pause.

He wants to remember exactly how you look in this moment.

Hurry it up, or I’ll take control

Marc’s voice startles him a bit, causing him to flinch, “Um. Marc and I- I mean we-”.

Real smooth Romeo

“Shut up!”, Steven hisses, making you jump this time.

He looks at you apologetically, “Sorry, he’s giving me a hard time”.

“It’s okay, please continue and Marc be nice”, you tell him, assuming both of them can hear you.

Look what you did, now you got me in trouble

You grab Steven’s hands, holding them in yours, squeezing reassuringly.

“Well, we were wondering if you’d go out with us? Like a date?”, he rushes out.

You laugh a bit when he finishes, and he looks like he’s ready to run out the door.

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1,198 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

#2

Tears Ricochet

Khonshu x Gender Neutral!Reader

Eventual Marc Spector & Steven Grant x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Okay, some of you are going to be annoyed at me for this one. I just needed to lean into the angst during this part- I swear. I promise you the next part will be less heartbreaking. This is another request from @fangeekkk and I decided to turn it into a series instead of a oneshot, so here we are. As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments and if you like my work consider leaving a tip! Thanks:)

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Major angst, No Spoilers, memory loss, mentions of death and the afterlife, Steven and Marc aren’t in this part but they will show up eventually.

Summary: The ennead made you forget your service, any memory of your beloved God. So when you meet Steven and Marc, both connected to the deity- and begin to fall in love with them. Will you remember the God that once had your heart?

Next Part: Begin Again

“I call for judgment against Khonshu”, Hathor’s avatar says, a conduit for the God’s voice.

“The charges?”

“Forming an improper relationship with an avatar”, she accuses.

“Khonshu, is this true?”, another God asks, their avatar’s face looking appalled at the thought.

You look at him, torch light dancing through his form, small reflections of it sent from his bronze staff onto your face. Despite his height and demeanor, you can tell he’s anxious. His hand grips the metal rod so tightly that the bandages surrounding it are beginning to come loose.

Beak lifted, he turns, silently requesting permission to speak through you.

You nod your consent to him, your eyes glowing a bright blue, before fading again.

“Hathor is clouded by jealousy surrounding our previous entanglement”, he booms, voice mixing with yours. You’re certain you’ll never get used to the feel of it, but you enjoy the control it gives him over you.

“That is not an answer”, Horus reminds him.

“The matter does not involve you”, the God says simply, trying to stay calm.

“Khonshu has always blurred the lines between himself and the humans”, Hathor states, “It is not surprising that he has decided to debase himself with one”.

“Quiet!”, he screams through you, forceful enough to bring tears to your eyes, “Humanity is beautiful and worth our protection, somewhere along the way the Gods lost sight of that. And because I refused to, I was banished”.

You can feel his breath hitch through yours, waiting for something to happen.

It’s strange to you, having this effect on the God.

You know he always had his reservations surrounding your relationship, but you’ve never seen him like this. Almost scared.

You can feel ripples of uncertainty flow through your bond as the silence stretches uncomfortably. The Gods must be talking amongst themselves, instead of using their avatars. You try to look at him in a way that’s reassuring, but Khonshu can tell it isn’t genuine.

It’s obvious that you’re more nervous than he is regarding the situation.

“Let us speak to your Avatar”, Tefnut says, severing your connection with him.

You breathe heavily, being used like that always drains your energy.

“Have you formed an improper relationship with your God?”, she asks, lines etching her forehead in frustration.

“Improper”, you snarl angrily, mocking her. You’re livid, who are they to tell you who you can and can’t love?

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1,602 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A God, a Mercenary, and a Gift-Shopist

Steven Grant, Marc Spector, & Khonshu x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Hopefully, this will tide you over while we wait for next weeks episode and I finish up some requests! It’s a cute little fic my head turned into- well this. I’m definitely willing to write more for it, maybe some full-on Khonshu smut if anyone is interested in reading it. As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments and if you like my work consider leaving a tip! Thanks:)

Word Count: 1.1K+

Warnings: Fluff, No Spoliers, Smut!

Summary: You meet Steven at a coffee shop, falling in love with him, and two others connected to him.

Steven

You’re in line waiting when you first see him. He’s cute, sitting at one of the many empty tables in the back, glasses halfway down his nose- like they had fallen and he didn’t care to push them up. You watch him for a while, but he doesn’t notice you, too captured by the book that sits in front of him.

The barista calls your name, pulling you from your trance. You grab your coffee and thank her, moving toward where the man is sitting.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?”, you ask, gesturing to the empty seat across from him.

He looks around for a moment. There are other open tables, and yet, you choose to sit with him.

“Sure”, he says softly, closing his book.

You look at the title, sitting down in front of him, “The Egyptian Book of the Dead, interesting”.

“Ah- Yes, well I work at the museum”, he tells you, pointing across the street, “It’s nice getting to see the exhibits everyday, makes you want to learn more about them”.

You look at him excitedly, almost impressed? He sighs dismissively, “I work at the gift shop. The pay is good, but my boss is quite harsh- and that’s on a good day”, he pauses, noticing your expression hasn’t changed, “I’m sorry if you were looking for a tour guide-”.

“No!”, you interrupt him, “I actually saw you while I was in line and I thought you were cute so I came over here”.

He fiddles with his fingers, not quite sure what to say.

The silence lasts a while, longer than considered comfortable, before you decide to speak, “I’m sorry if that was too forward, I can leave if you’d like”, you offer, gathering your belongings.

“I want you to stay”, he says quietly, looking at you through the dark curls splayed across his face.

You stop your actions and smile at him, beginning an awkward conversation that eventually becomes more natural.

Your coffee’s long forgotten.

Marc

He groans, stretching his arms above his head, trying to adjust to the dark lighting. Steven’s phone beeps beside him, lighting up with a message. I’m looking forward to our date, it reads.

He makes his way to the bathroom, phone in hand.

“What’s this”, he asks, holding it up to the reflection.

“None of your business”, Steven responds, annoyed. He doesn’t want him to have anything to do with you.

“It looks like something.”

“Yeah, well it’s not”, he tells him again.

“Oh, so you won’t care if I just-”, he starts to text back, telling you something has come up and Steven can’t make it anymore.

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2,155 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[sagemoderocklee]

⭐

thank you so much anon! since you didn't specify which fic, im gonna say it's safe to assume RtS! and i was JUST talking about this aspect of RtS last night with @we-return-in-waves so let's dive into it: the chapter titles (and title) of RtS and what they mean! (putting it under a cut because there's spoilers!)

Rock Lee writes a letter with no intent to send, thus 'no postage necessary'

Tenten finds the letter and mails it for Lee which leads us to

the tracking number you get when you mail something

in transit is meant to reflect both that lee is on his way to suna and the letter is on its way to... somewhere

the letter is out for delivery to the wrong location

a second attempt at delivering the letter to yet another incorrect location

a third location where the letter is going to be sent

at this point, the letter requires a signature because it's been sent to so many wrong addresses (wrong address #4)

the hint that Tenten wrote the wrong address (location #5 and the final attempt at delivering it. the letter lands in Rainbow Country for months before heading to Suna)

and, of course the letter arrives just 3 days before Lee's before (and gaara also arrives--3am on Lee's birthday--to return the letter to the original sender)

so above is the breakdown of what the letter was doing! I'm sure it might have seemed that the chapters were just generic mail related chapters, but they were actually meant to reference not only things Lee was going through/the general overall plot but also to tell you where the missing love letter was! the letter ended up in 5 different locations (there's only 4 in the chapter titles) before getting left in a mail room in Rainbow Country (yes that was intentional :p) where an old postal worker would eventually discover it

My favorite thing with RtS was all the comments from people wondering where the hell the letter was, while the chapters gave hints to its location and the title told you exactly what was going to happen to the letter--it gets returned to the original sender, Rock Lee (obviously technically Tentent sent it but *hand wave* semantics or w/e).

this is by no means something i expected to be obvious to others. it's just very much a fun thing that i did!

i'd also worked really hard to get the events to line up so that Gaara was arriving on Lee's birthday--the letter sent to gaara as a mistake for his birthday being returned to lee on his birthday--and the events of RtS are just a little over a year (just shy of 13 months)

the opening scene of RtS took place November 1st, as did the second scene with Lee on his way to the post office where Naruto and Kiba suggested he was writing to a secret girlfriend. following that is just Lee's month long struggle with "oh my god am i in love with Gaara" before Gaara's letter arrives on the first of December and Lee truly has to accept how he feels.

so in conclusion, i was very intentional with my chapter titles for this fic and very determined to make sure the letter came back to Lee on his birthday.