Hey jay I was wondering since it’s stranger things day aka steve Harrington day do you have any pegging Steve thoughts?
hi angel! i’m sorry if i’ve neglected any of ur previous pegging asks, it’s on my list of to-write but i really want to do it justice 😭 u can have this random ramble tho! love u <3
i think, even though it’s him bent over on the bed, back arched, nervously running his hands down his own thighs all jittery, i’m willing to bet steve still has an attitude. he’s all like, “oh yeah, like you can talk” when you teasing him for quivering beneath you, even though you’re being gentle to start with — working him up with just one finger to begin with, letting him relax, letting it slowly burn hotter and hotter in his gut. and he’s still soooo snarky, all “c-can’t believe i can have you moaning with one finger when this is what it fe—“ and the word gets stolen right out his throat as the pad of your fingers brushes his prostate and he gasps and moans. and then it’s game over for stevie baby :) he’s trying to keep his composure, even as he moans like a bitch in the heat, but now you’ve found that spot you’re bullying it, trying to hit it with every thrust of your fingers — and poor steve can’t keep up :( he’s trembling, his heavy cock just twitching between his legs as he fists at the pillow and drools onto it, panting and whining, his hips rolling back to meet your thrusts with a mind of their own. when you finally slow down a bit, he wails a bit, muffled into the pillow and when he pulls his face out, he’s peering over his shoulder babbling, “no, no, no, don’t stop— please, keep- fuck, keep going,” and you know, considering how snarky he was to begin with, it takes almost no time at all to get him to beg for another finger :)
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You said something along the lines of sparrow reincarnated many times before becoming tink, dropping on the ladder of intelligent species, since scavs are slightly above scugs would sparrows have been a scavenger at some point? Would she find more of a place among scav society than ancients?
yeah, she'd pop out a scav at some point!
find more of a place though... see you need to understand that a reincarnation does not mean this person we know in this moment at time (32 year old Sparrows, the one i usually go to when answerin more misc. questions) is simply put in a different body but still living on as we know them. it's why... i'm honestly not too fond of these reincarnation questions
the connection Is there, yes, her spirit is kind and curious and crafty and that will always find a way to show, but that isn't Sparrows anymore. that scavenger, that Ancient boy from the Wellspring or the cold North maybe the hot South, the Tinkerer- those aren't Sparrows. Sparrows died in her childhood home under the watchful gaze of a faked god. she doesn't matter to them, she doesn't shape them as people besides the absolute easily swayed minimum, just like her pre-Sparrows incarnations didn't shape Euros' wife besides shoving her into a farmer's home, giving her golden fingers with technology and kindness that still needed to be nurtured by her caretakers to truly take as such strong a root as it ended up taking
she will do better as any fauna on account of "these creatures do not possess a perception of religion." they are lawless, undefined, there is no societal expectation to fulfill. it's freedom achieved through inability of understanding
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there's been a lot of discussion of the horror genre and story craft on my dash lately & while i've seen plenty of things i've disagreed with or had quibbles about, it HAS made me realize that part of my struggle with plotting/drafting the og fiction project has been about.... just.... sanitizing the narrative. the internal messaging of "you can't write this because no one will want it and it's bad" is so fucking strong even when i've spent FOREVER unpacking and talking about how self-policing kills creativity. whoops
like. it's a story about the ugliness of chronic illness and the brutality of exploitation and the callousness of ingrained social norms. of course it's going to be fucking ugly and brutal and callous. why am i trying to pretend that it's anything else.
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Would you ever write something super fluffy and soft, like Five napping on his siblings or something like that?
Would I ever... Yes. :) I think I still have a fluffier fic of Allison giving Five a haircut sitting in my folder. Although, it's got a little melancholic mood to it, as does most of my things that are fluffier because Five is a tragedy. Idk, I've been knee deep in angst for a while now, maybe I should take a little break and try the fluffier things... I just love to hurt a bit and Five is so good for that.
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I was going back through my old school stuff from like 1st grade and there was this like journal where we had to write like a couple sentences each day to practice writing and stuff and i had this one day where part of what I wrote was "I hate myself today because I had to change my card to yellow" (the cards were like discipline things so you started with green and if you weren't being good you had to stand up and go to the front of the class to change your card) and I don't remember what it was for but I'm sure I was just like maybe talking or something like that.
But like damn. Even just thinking about the times I had to change my cards in those classes makes me want to cry. I remember always being so upset anytime the teachers weren't happy with me and then I think about me now and how I'm always expecting people to think the worst of me or be hiding that they don't like me or always expecting the other shoe to drop even if they've been telling me I'm doing a good job because I'm bad and I need them to just tell me why and what exactly they're holding back
And I've got a review coming up at work soon with my bosses since it's almost my 6 year anniversary of working there and all I can think is oh good now they can stop telling me how great I am and how happy they are to have me there and just tell me everything I'm doing wrong because I know the compliments aren't right and they have to have been holding back what all my issues are.
And I think something in my upbringing may have kind of fucked my head up... just a little bit
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How to Build a Sex Room inspired us to retool our bedroom and go through our gear to choose what to display; what I was not expecting to find is that somehow I've collected enough handcuffs to hogtie a fucking octopus.
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