Urgent: Help Us Not Get Screwed
Anyone who follows us has seen us screaming from the hill-tops about our current crowdfunding campaign for Aether Beyond the Binary (17 aetherpunk stories! Outside the gender binary main characters!). We've only got 50 hours left...and we just got screwed.
Our Anthology Kickstarter is being scammed.
About two hours ago, with us still roughly $1,500 from our goal, we got a junk pledge for almost $2,000. This pushed us into being marked as "funded" but there is zero chance it's a real pledge, it's from a shell account marked as being in Turkey. This kind of money doesn't just fall like a miracle into the laps of small business like ours.
The timing on this attack is devastating. The final 48 hours of a campaign are absolutely critical, especially for one as close to meeting our goal as we are. We were very likely to hit our target, but doing so was going to require appeals to y'all that started with "hey, we're so close, please help spread the word." Further, the campaign has hundreds of followers who will get a notification at the 48 hour mark, and many who might have backed to help get us to the finish line will now think "oh, they're there, they don't need me," and not back. Meanwhile, one of two things will happen with the spam pledge: either it will get removed by Kickstarter, which could take hours or a day+, totally nuking us during this crucial window, or it won't get removed until the payment bounces post-campaign, at which point we won't actually have enough money to do fulfillment.
Either way, we are fucked.
Please, please don't let these dipshits ruin the love and passion that 30+ people have poured into this project for over a year.
Our campaign IS NOT FUNDED, and it won't be without help. I'm begging, help spread the word about how we're getting screwed, and help spread the word about Aether Beyond the Binary (visit the link for so much info!) so that we can get enough real pledges to fund this project we've poured our hearts and souls into.
SUPPORT THE QUEER ANTHOLOGY KICKSTARTER FOR AETHER BEYOND THE BINARY (with your pledges or with signal boosts!)
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i love love LOVE that stede had little to no reaction towards the captain's quarters being empty/trashed. like, he reacted exactly how i expected him to, how i hoped he would, ie making some kind of quippy comment about how it works for the space.
because yes, the library was his "pride and joy." yes, he had an entire auxiliary wardrobe dedicated to different outfits. yes, his entire space was decked out in finery and material things.
but at the end of the day, they're just that: things.
you know what matters more to him? his crew. his family. his beloved.
he willingly gave up his wealth to his family back on land, and then struggled right alongside his family at sea. he didn't scramble to make money for himself, but instead tried to get a bit more financially stable for his crew, for his love. he stayed right alongside his new family, and prioritized their wellbeing above his own.
it doesn't matter that those things are gone; what matters is that those he loves are safe and sound.
((and like, also, he is probably going to want to rebuild/get more little knickknacks and trinkets. but he'll be able to do so with his family, for his family. it'll be their collective space, their home and heart))
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A Sinner in the Hands of John Mactavish
Rating: E (MDNI)
Tags: Soap x f!reader/f!oc, face sitting, D/s dynamic, shame play, slapping, degradation, slut shaming, corruption kink, lowkey misogyny kink, fingering, forced orgasm, sub space, mentions of reader being a nun, Dom!Soap, lemme know if I missed any
Summary: Soap is a mean dom, that's the whole thing. Mind the tags.
You hover, a little unsure, your stomach twisting and your core tight from the thought but… Johnny’s hands grab your hips and force you down against his face, with a harsh, “Sit.” Heat races over your skin, half embarrassment, half excitement at the direct order. You try to raise yourself up a little but his grip is firm and you don’t move an inch. You shudder as his tongue slides through your folds, slicking you more than you already were. His hands slide from your hips to wrap around your thighs, trapping you against his mouth.
Like this you can feel the scratch of his stubble as he wiggles his tongue and sucks at your cunt, your hips rocking against him without thinking. He groans, tipping his head to close his mouth around your clit, hot suction that makes you want to press harder against him. Your fingers tighten on your skirt, holding it out of the way so you can watch him, or so he can watch you.
You're not a real nun, you swear there's nothing pious or upstanding about you, but your body seems to think you've never been touched by a man before. You feel entirely too sensitive, whimpering and whining at the slightest touch of Johnny's tongue. Though, it's not hard to know why. He's aggressive with his attention, determined to wring every drop of pleasure from you. He rolls his tongue against your clit hard and steady, forcing you up from quiet gasps to full loud moans. You're too hot, your dress sticks to the sweat on your skin and your hips burn with the need to grind and move.
"Johnny I-" you bite your lips to stifle the needy noise that bubbles up in your throat. He hums against your cunt, the vibration of it making you shudder. His grip on your thighs loosens enough for you to move, just enough for him to get his mouth off of you.
"What, Hen? You have to say it," his voice sounds wrecked, low and deep and beautifully dangerous, "be a good little nun, and say it."
The way he says "nun" spits it like a swear, makes your pussy clench, another whine building in your throat. "Need more," you mumble, "wanna cum, I need more."
Johnny twists, flipping you onto your back with practiced ease. You yelp and bounce against the bed. You hardly have time to try and find your position before Johnny is dragging you by the hips, stretching you out to settle between your thighs again. Times like this you remember it’s a military man you’re fucking, not just a random ranch hand. It’s the awareness he has, both of his own body and yours that makes you squeeze your thighs around him.
"You want my fingers or my cock?" He asks, his eyes fixed on the way he spreads your folds apart. He rubs his palm against the slick that’s made his beard shine, and waits for you to answer. The way he looks at you, hungry and dark, always makes your stomach clench. He’s hard, you can see the lines of his cock straining against his pants.
"Fingers," you decide. Johnny hums, and rolls his thumb against your clit, weighing your decision against whatever he has planned.
"Alright," he hooks two thick fingers into your cunt, pressing up to hit your sweet spot dead on. You clench and rock your hips against his fingers, God they feel good, just what you needed. "That's it," Johnny tells you, "what's a nun but a selfish little whore keeping her cunt all to herself?" You’re not proud of the way his words make you shudder and clench.
It’s all the approval Johnny needs to start thrusting his fingers into you in earnest. Hard and fast, curled to hit that soft spongy spot every time. Tight heat builds in you immediately, your stomach clenching as you try to squirm away from the targeted attack. Johnny wastes no energy grabbing your throat with his free hand, the firm pressure keeping you in place even when your hips squirm. He squeezes your neck and you can feel every callous on his fingers, just as your head starts to go fuzzy.
More warmth floods you, this time over your cheeks and up your ears. Your head feels cottony. It makes you clench around his fingers, trying to keep them in or squirm away as Johnny stirs up thick pleasure deep in your stomach. Your back arches, forcing your neck into his hold as your head tips back and orgasm overtakes you. You feel the wet release of pressure, the rush of warmth over your skin. You can hear the slick noise of Johnny’s fingers working your cunt faster and harder. It’s too much and you try to kick at him to get him to stop. He only presses you down firmer.
“Look’it tha’,” Johnny hums, leaning over you as you gasp for air, you grab at his wrist unsure, now, which hand you need a release from. He spits into your open mouth. “Only thing you’re good for is takin’ my cock and you couldnae even do that. You wanted my fingers, you can-” You dig your nails into his wrist and he hisses. You get what you wanted, he releases your throat and stops fingering you. Only to slap you.
It takes you by surprise, the sting against your cheek. Your breath catches and your eyes go wide. Something in your brain slips, just a little to the left, and your eyes lid. Johnny grips your face, and you smile at him. He gives you a wolf’s smile in response, jostles your head a little, and slaps you again.
“There she is, my stupid little slut.” His thumb brushes your cheek, a small comfort, “tell me who this pussy belongs to baby.”
“You, Sir,” You murmur, kissing his thumb when it brushes against your lips. He pushes the digit into your mouth and you curl your tongue around it.
“Yeah?” He coos, his fingers push into your cunt and you squirm, oversensitive from your last orgasm. “Then stop fuckin’ squirmin’ and let me do what I want.” The growl in his voice, the low punishing tone, make you freeze. Your muscles tense as he watches your face. Your brows knit together, your lips pouting still wrapped around his thumb. He grinds the heel of his hand against your clit, forces his fingers in and out of your desperate, clenching, cunt and tells you, “Don’t you dare fuckin’ come. You come and I’ll spank this pussy raw.”
The thought makes you shudder. You both know it doesn’t matter how hard you try to hold back, he’ll force it out of you. The same way you know he’ll have you crying through another orgasm as he spanks your clit and tells you what a dumb whore you are, how disgusting you are for getting off to this.
"No more selfish Nun," he’ll tell you as he eases his thick cock into your abused hole, "because this cunt is mine now, and I’m never lettin’ you go.”
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