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ohbo-ohno · 5 months

Note

I REALLY wanna see Johnny get mad! Like white hot angry at reader. Don’t know what/how it happened but Johnny’s gonna make all of reader’s poor holes suffer🥺

Maybe Simon gets surprised and turned on by his pup’s newfound aggressiveness

3.6k pwp soap drabble 4 u (cw for referenced burning building, angry sex, some light mutual degradation/objectification, and voyeurism since ghost watches)

You fume silently, face hot with rage while you and Soap walk side by side behind Ghost down the base hallways. There's a tension at the base of your neck that you just know is going to become a migraine if you don't get some medicine soon, and your bones ache from going too long without sleep.

Soap's somehow even stiffer beside you, the distance between you two small but intentional. Usually he's impossible to pry off of you, always brushing against you and looking for more physical contact, but since you landed he's kept at least half a foot between you two at all times.

Fine by you. You don't want him touching you right now anyway.

The silence is thick as Ghost leads you two to his room, his shoulders loose and relaxed.

He's got no reason to be tense, you suppose. He's not the one who had a massive disagreement on the field, who had to drag his squadmate back from a blazing fire and deal with his bitching instead of his thanks.

Just the memory of it makes you scowl.

Ghost leads the two of you into his room in rare silence, though it's only rare because usually you and Johnny would already be teasing or flirting at this point. But you don't bother now, not with your anger so fresh in your mind.

Ghost is the only one to get settled once Johnny closes the door behind you. You two stand on opposite sides of the doorframe, both too tense to do much but stew in your own righteous anger, and Ghost starts to get dressed down into something more comfortable.

He lets the two of you stay quiet until he's fully changed into a tank top and sweats, no boxers then sits on the bed with an overly loud sigh.

"You two even gonna look at each other?"

Your lip curls as you glance at Johnny from the corner of your eyes. "I have nothing to say to him."

"'S not what I asked."

Your cheek twitches and you bite your tongue, rolling a sharp canine over it. "Honestly, Simon, I don't even want to see him right now."

Johnny scoffs, loud in the otherwise quiet room, and nearly stomps to your side, leaning in front of you to try and force eye contact. "Oh, really? Ye can't even look at me, huh? Had no problem lookin' earlier, when you were draggin' me away from my goddamn mission."

You want to growl, you want to rake your nails down his face and scream about what a fool he is, what a jackass, and you want to make him remember.

Some of your ire must shine through in your expression, and Johnny mirrors it, eyes sparking as he straightens and stands diagonally from you, chest nearly brushing your shoulder.

"Dragging you away from your death, more like," you sneer.

"Wasn't your place," he bites back, moving forward enough that you can feel the heat of him even through all your layers. "You aren't my fuckin' CO and I'm not yours - wasn't any of your business how I chose to execute my orders."

"It is when you chose to do it in the most lethal way possible! Fuck, MacTavish, had you taken half a second and listened to me-"

"Oh, that's all it woulda taken? Just had to shut my pretty lips and listen to you, jump before you even say how high? Newsflash, lass, you don't get to make those decisions."

"And you do?"

"In this case? Yeah, you're fuckin' right I do. Price said drag the man out, alive, and that's what I was doing."

"You ran into a burning building!"

"Under orders from our CO!"

"You know damn well that's not what he meant, Sergeant, cut the shit. The orders were to bring him back alive, not kill yourself in the process!"

"That's the job, Sergeant. You do whatever it takes to fulfill your orders."

You're both panting as he snarls the words, nose to nose and eye to eye, teeth bared in rage that feels almost primal. His close brush with death, the way you'd had to tackle him to keep him from running after the damn target, leaves you raw and unsteady. Had you been any weaker, any less filled by adrenaline and panic and something deeply possessive, you know Soap would've thrown you off and gotten himself killed. You were hardly able to hold him down until the screaming stopped as it was.

You take as deep a breath as you can with your heart racing, and reach up to wrap the collar of Johnny's shirt tight in your fist, dragging him so close that your noses brush, hot breaths shared.

"You don't get to fucking leave me." You shoot a glance over Johnny's shoulder, to where Ghost sits comfortably against the headboard of your shared bed. "Leave us. I won't let you."

It's the last sentence that has him bristling, that ruins your chance of a settled argument.

The only person who lets Soap do anything is Ghost. The two of you listen to your Lieutenant with no questions, no doubt, no hesitations, but the same doesn't go for your fellow Sergeant. Since the 141 had formed, you and Soap have been fighting for dominance over one another, both of you determined to establish your control of the other like Ghost has for both of you.

The insinuation that you would let Soap do anything isn't something he'll let slide.

Hours later, fucked raw and sated, you can admit to yourself that the wording was slightly intentional. But now, with the fresh wound of Soap's close call with death still stinging in your subconscious, you only mean it as a way to push his anger to the level yours has been at for hours now.

"Let me?" He rumbles, muscles relaxing as he steps forward enough to press his chest to yours, head ducked low so all you can see is Johnny. "You don't let me do shit, lass. Couldn't stop me if you tried."

You can't help the way your lips quirk up into a humorless smile, your fist tightening in the fabric of his shirt. "Had a pretty easy time of it earlier, MacTavish. Had you pinned and writhing under me, like a bitch-"

Before you can finish your taunt, you find yourself pinned to the door, a mouth covering yours.

Johnny's teeth are sharp against your lips as he nips at you, leaving behind a sting and a throb. You dig your nails into his shoulders, raking them down his arms and rumbling in dissatisfaction when his clothes keep him from feeling anything.

You bite back as you push at the hem of his shirt, desperate to get your hands on him and make him hurt. You trace your fingers over his abs as you get his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him down to your height and smirking at his glare.

You don't kiss so much as fight with lips instead of fists, there's no affection or softness between the two of you right now. You're nothing but your anger, but your desperation, and deep down your fear. You cling to Johnny with something verging on desperation, bite and scratch to make him feel even a bit of the pain you had at such a close call with death.

He leans almost his entire weight into yours to keep you pinned against the door, but you only have to shove at his shoulders a few times for him to get the hint and move backwards.

His lips never leave yours as you walk him back to the bed, his hands coming up to grip your thighs as he falls back and keeps you on top of him. You taste the slightest tang of iron as you shift your knees up next to his hips, squeezing his sides between your thighs and his tongue between your teeth.

"You gonna ride me?" He pants when you pull away for a breath of air, your hips working over the tent in his pants. "Think you're in charge, bonnie?"

You bare your teeth at him, grinding your core against the tent in his pants. “I’m not the one on my back, MacTavish.”

His smile is all teeth as he bucks his hips into yours, knocking you off balance so you’re forced to brace your hands on either side of his head. “I don’t need to be on top to keep you on a leash.”

It’s all too easy to hook your fingers in his throat mic - his collar. His pupils blow wide when you tug harshly enough to pull his head off the mattress, his hips following as he moans and grinds you down onto him with a bruising grip on your thighs.

“Down,” you smirk, leaning your weight back and forcing his hips to the bed, grinding your hips. “‘S my turn, Johnny. Gonna use you ‘til you’re wrung dry.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, then rests on his bottom lip instead of settling behind his teeth. You can’t resist the urge to lean down and lick over his lips, covering them in your own spit and groaning when he pulls you back into a proper kiss.

Despite your hand around his throat and your weight on top of his, you’re both equally in control as you strip the other. You can’t be bothered to wrestle his wrists to the bed, far preferring to let him paw your shirt and pants off while you tear the seams in his indecently tight shirt.

You only have the patience to get his pants to his knees, unwilling to help him kick them off for full mobility. Instead you grind yourself against his hard length, the soaked gusset of your underwear dragging wonderfully over both his cock and your clit.

You shift your hand on his neck so your palm is resting on his Adam’s apple, giving him just enough pressure to stay flattened to the bed.

He nearly growls when you push, the head of his cock getting caught in your panties and brushing the crease of your thigh. “Fuck, bonnie, get it on with.”

You blink down at him, cocking an unimpressed brow and shifting your hips so he slips between your folds, tucking your underwear to the side with your free hand. “You’re not in charge right now, MacTavish. I’m on top.”

“Only cause I’m lettin’ ya,” he pants, hips twitching as he tries to find your hole, tries to find a hole to sink into.

You lean down just far enough to bite the air in front of his nose, all feral rage and sexual frustration as you let yourself sit on his cock, holding him still beneath you. “You don’t let me do shit, I do whatever the fuck I want to. And right now, I want to ride you ‘til you stop fucking talking.”

You press your lips to his before he can bite back the response you see waiting on his tongue, letting your hips move in the way that feels best for you as you lick over his teeth.

Johnny’s always loved making out. When Ghost keeps him locked up, or he’s just not allowed to fuck you, he’ll happily spend hours with your lips glued together, dry humping each other and swapping spit. You can’t even count the number of times he’s come in his pants while thrusting against your hip or your side, driven over the edge by just a kiss.

You take advantage of that now, keeping one hand on his throat and the other circling the base of his throbbing cock so you can line yourself up above him. He’s far too distracted with your lips and tongue to remember he could tug you down on him at any moment, could flip the two of you with hardly any effort at all.

Despite the complete lack of prep, your body takes Johnny easily, the familiar stretch making you moan as you sink down onto him with one smooth movement. You blink open wet eyes just in time to see Johnny’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when your ass rests against him, his cock buried inside of you.

You don’t let yourself rest for long, though most days you love to just feel the weight of either of your boys inside of you. But that current of anger is still pulsing beneath your skin, and all the hot, sweat slick contact between you and Johnny only makes you feel more desperate.

Your pace is merciless, for both him and yourself. Your knees and thighs scream as you slam yourself to the base of Johnny’s cock, making sure you pull off nearly to the tip on every thrust. Without a hand around his throat, you’d have lost your balance on the first thrust.

Johnny’s pulse thunders against your fingers, so fast and so harsh that you swear you can ever see your fingertips twitching against his throat. His breaths are quick and erratic, and you can’t help but subconsciously match his breathing with your faces as close together as they are.

“So fucking good,” you moan, rolling your hips as you lift yourself off of him, dragging the head of his cock along your walls. Your voice cracks when he bucks his hips up, and you’re relieved that he’s already too blissed out to notice, lost in the tight vice of your cunt.

“Yeah?” Johnny pants, tongue nearly lolling out of his mouth when you pull away fully. “Stuff you just right, yeah, lass?”

You bite your tongue against an agreement, some deep part of you that’s not quite drunk on pleasure yet unwilling to give Johnny that kindness. Instead you shift your weight, so that your hand is more cupping Johnny’s jaw and putting pressure on his head instead of his neck, letting you really push him down and get the proper leverage to fuck yourself on his cock.

“Perfect fucking-” you shudder against the words, moan when he rubs just over your g-spot and repeating the same motion with your hips again and again. “Perfect fucking toy, so nice to ride.”

The sound Johnny makes is purely animalistic, torn between anger and desperation, something rough and low in his throat. You can feel the rumble of it through your hand and can’t help but moan in return, finally nearing your peak even as your legs continue to burn.

Neither of you speaks as you ride him, your head hanging low so you’re eye-level with his nipples and focused entirely on your own pleasure. The way your muscles scream at you only fills you with more need, more desperation, and the pain pushes you closer and closer to the edge. Your clit grinds just right over the rough patch of Soap’s pubic hair, soaking it in your juices and covering him in slick.

You reach your peak with gasping breaths, nearly going cross-eyed as you use Johnny entirely for your own pleasure, using him as nothing more than something to hold yourself up on and a toy to ride. Your muscles go completely lax as your pleasure overwhelms you, leaving you slumped against his muscular chest as you ride out the orgasm with small rolls of your hips.

Johnny’s still rock hard inside of you as you come down, his grip on your thighs tight enough to bruise. Your hand has slipped from underneath his collar to the mattress next to his face, and you don’t have the energy to push yourself up and away, to deny him like you’d intended.

Your lungs feel too small as you try to take deep gasping breaths, only managing a few before your lungs start hitching. Johnny’s chest rises and falls quickly beneath your head, his heart pounding beneath your ear.

You don’t have time to brace yourself before you’re flipped onto your stomach, face down on the mattress.

One moment you’re floating in post-orgasmic bliss, letting your body clench down on Johnny and milk him, the next moment you’re on your knees with your back forced into a deep arch, that same cock pounding into you like a machine.

Your groan is bone deep when you finally lift your head enough to breathe, eyes rolled heavenward as your body tries its best to adjust to the harsh treatment.

“Show you a fucking toy,” Johnny snarls from over your shoulder, his voice sounding distant beneath the blood rushing through your ears. “Think ye can just treat me like fucking nothing, get yerself off then take a fucking nap? Nah, yer gonna take what ye fucking deserve.”

The thickening of Johnny’s accent has you gushing around him, your sensitive channel clenching down so hard that you’re surprised he can pull out at all.

Johnny’s hand wraps in your hair when you try to let your head fall forward again, yanking you back with enough strength to leave you yowling at the strain on your neck.

“Don’t fucking hide,” he hisses, landing a sharp slap on the meat of your ass. “Think ye can just shove yer head in the sand? Let me fuckin’ hear you, lass, sing f’r me.”

“Fu-uck you,” you manage to groan, syllables interrupted on every thrust, your voice cracking. “You’re not- fuck, Johnny, don’t have to listen to you.”

You can practically hear the way he gnashes his teeth over your shoulder, can perfectly envision the angry snarl on his face at your lack of submission.

“Ye will. Gonna teach ye a fuckin’ lesson about yer place.”

You try your best to rear up, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare as best you can despite the grip on your hair. “My place? Who the hell do you think- oh fuck, fuck, Johnny, you can’t- goddamnit-”

“Can’t even get a goddamn word out.” Even from your terrible angle you can see that his smile is mean. “Think ye can be in charge when ye can’t even finish a sentence? Fuckin’ fool.”

You nearly shriek when he shoves your head down to the mattress, clawing fruitlessly at anything in front of you. You only freeze when you feel flesh give way underneath your nails, the hard muscles of a thick thigh under your palm.

You can just barely angle your head enough to glance up and see Simon looking down at you, but you can’t manage to see anything past his general shape with the way Soap is trying to shove you inside the mattress.

Ghost’s hand comes to rest on your head, and when you lean into him he pushes Johnny’s fingers off.

“Watch it, pup,” he rumbles, and Johnny’s hips stutter behind you. “You’re already in trouble. Do you really wanna make it worse?”

Your self-righteous smirk is hidden in the sheets, but you can’t fully muffle your laugh when Johnny’s whines over your shoulder. The sound quickly morphs into a snarl, and he buries his teeth into your shoulder as his hips start to work again, the sound of his balls slapping against your soaked cunt obscene.

Johnny wraps his arms beneath your torso, hooking his hands on your shoulders so he can tug you into every thrust, moving his face up to nose at your throat. You feel covered by him, consumed by him, as he chases his own pleasure.

You don’t quite manage to get off before he empties himself inside you, but there’s a deep satisfaction in your bones that still lets you melt into him.

Johnny’s all heat and power at your back as he goes weak against you, and a small shove to his shoulder from Ghost has both of you resting on your sides, spooning with his cock still buried inside of you.

Your breaths sync with his quickly, matching the inhales and exhales you can feel against your neck and the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

Your eyes flutter shut, relaxing into the bed and Johnny’s arms. You know that you’ll have to Talk later, about what he’d done and how you’d responded. But you know it’ll be an easier conversation after Ghost’s punishment, when all of your consciousness has eased a bit.

“There ya go,” you hear Ghost say, followed by a soft stroke over your head. “Exhausted yourselves, huh? Silly pups.”

You hum and Johnny rumbles behind you, burying his face more fully in your throat. You feel Ghost’s other hand pet over his mohawk, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.

“I guess you can nap.” Ghost sighs, like he’s doing you both a great favor. “You’ll both need all your energy for your punishment, anyway. Breakin’ damn near every rule in the book just cause you got a little worked up. What am I gonna do with the two of you?”

You don’t have the energy to respond, and the best Johnny manages is a small and plaintive whine. Ghost chuckles from above you, and you feel him lay in front of you, his arms wrapping around Johnny’s back and tugging you both to him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just relax now, you’re alright.”

It’s easy to drift off, even if the heat is near suffocating and the stretch of Johnny’s cock verges on the edge of too much. You’re loose-limbed and sated, and Johnny’s safe beside you. There’s little else you could ever want, ever need, and you can’t be much more than grateful as you fall asleep between your men.

#ghoap x reader #nobody saw me complaining about this last night :)#bo writes #soap mactavish x reader #< since it's mostly him #btw i off and on contemplated making this reader male so if their vibes change throughout the fic thats why lmao #2 big military men fighting for dominance over one another while a Bigger & More Muscular partner watches knowing they're under his thumb..#yeah that's the stuff

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rmd-writes · 9 months

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a drabble for @thebrownstone prompt: PIANO

“Alex, no.” Henry shakes his head.

“Baby,” he pleads.

Henry’s long fingers keep dancing deftly across the piano keys. Alex drapes himself over Henry’s shoulders, tracing his collarbone as he presses a kiss to his pulse point.

“You can try all you want, love, but I’m not fucking you on the new piano,” Henry says flatly.

Alex sighs.

“Don’t pout, it’s unattractive. I was going to suggest that you take your clothes off and wait for me. On our bed.” Alex moves so quickly that he trips over his own feet. “Be patient. Can you do that for me, love?”

#drabble #rwrb fic #firstprince fic #rwrb #red white & royal blue #rmd writes: rwrb snippet #rmd writes #contemplating turning this into more but we'll see

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aquilamage · 11 months

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I haven’t been insane about Vi enough lately so time to pour out some random thoughts. free association thinking time:

been thinking about her “It's my savings. I wanna be rich, okay? So I can travel, eat well, buy cool stuff… So no one can say I can't do something!” And none of the following will really be insightful or revelatory because it’s just what she says here but. yeah! that’s vi! the main reason she’s so big on money is because she has to be to get what she wants out of life! it’s what lets her say no to people telling her what to do, and that’s important to her because she has no choice but to be independent and support herself. because no one else will. No one at the Hive had anything positive or supportive to say about her being an explorer until she went out and did it (to a ridiculously successful degree, too. I have to wonder if/how it might’ve differed if she was on a regular accomplishment level team. not the one leading them all to the mission to the Hive). she never had a choice not to be. I could also see that being a little part of why she starts out not really being a teamwork person. past experiences have taught her she can’t rely on anyone else for support. (does make me wonder about what if she’d met Chubee before leaving the Hive. obviously she still would’ve left, but how might even a bit of support have changed other things?)

I feel like we don’t talk about the fact that The Beemerang Is Also Knives enough

ok so at one point there was this post talking about people with money and how it affects their life like. if you can afford to get a nanny then you can only do the fun parts of childcare and when you stop feeling like taking care of the kid you can just hand them to someone else to take them away. and again likely not especially revelatory but I would guess that’s the kind of way queen bianca handled the bees as her daughters (she does care about them. absolutely. but not in the same hands-on attached way as we usually associate with parents) and thinking about how that kind of treatment would then apply to vi....hm

in universes where discussions of Gender and Pronouns etc happen I think she has moments where she gets frustrated with the everything of Being Referred To and Having Complicated Identity She Hasn’t Quite Figured Yet and is like. gender is cancelled how dare you refer to me. but especially anyone else calls me a girl ever i will be stabbing them

also I think a lot about what circumstances she finds out about gayness/Gender being things. and whether she’s thought about it in herself before and whether she’d been dismissed on it/told it wasn’t a thing etc. most circumstances she ends up angry about the finding out times because of (un)consicious internal conflict stuff

underground tavern stuff implies she was definitely doing quests and stuff for money with them precanon. would kill to know what specifically it was. but also the first talk with utter implies that she was doing stuff off that questboard as well which is even more intriguing. utter’s spy also implies you don’t have to be an explorer to do them but otherwise you would think you did I feel. so again very curious what was up there

#inspired by that girl blorbos post and also me trying to think about where in the game they drop facts and such about precanon stuff w her #the urge to try and fic about the stuff between her leaving the hive and showing up at the association....strong again #'the hive didn't do anything' my ass. vi might have also been a jerk but it's just that she was the more obvious #easily labeled incident version of it. she was active while her treatment was the subtle passive neglect type of bad treatment #complex situation and also. yeah #an aquila original #vi bug fables #bug fables #also featuring funky gender lesbian stuff because thats not even headcanon. to me #hopefully the reasoning out stuff doesn't just come out like a load of nonsense #vi's one of those characters where I definitely feel comfortable in writing her on a basic level but some parts I'm super insecure about #and the part with her is in really capturing the complexities of her backstory and family issues #and the thing is it's like. I have to remind myself that some parts of how canon did her on that are actually decent #and I should pay attention to those complexities. but then also canon definitely did some of their 'this hasn't really been earned'#resolution stuff on her. mostly thinking about the postcanon dialogue with Bianca. it's jsut too much of a jump for that for me #and it's not even that I necessarily think bianca's dialogue is out of character. it's that I'm contemplating whether it would've #made more sense for vi to get angry about it. like.#ok so. sometimes i think about what coming out to my family might be like. and I've come to the conclusion that if they were just accepting #despite the fact that it would be best case scenario I'd be angry about it. because they've said some shitty stuff in the past. in general #they've made me feel unsafe about myself. so no actually you don't get to just suddenly be chill about it now fuck you.#it doesn't change the past hurts #and I could see Vi being like that too. even if part of her is happy about getting what she wanted to start with she's pissed about #only getting it now. with a side helping of also wondering if the approval /now/ is only because she's been so successful about it #what if she hadn't been so specially favored by elizant? what if she hadn't been on the team that saved the world? why did she (maybe) have #to earn the approval she should've had from the start?#also not gonna get into this one right now but tweaking her story with jaune to acknowledge that theyre both at fault in different ways #(again). would be nice #but now I'm definitely veering into repeating myself type rambling territory so

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altschmerzes · 8 months

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thinking about some of my general wips and being like, ah damn i missed my window where i’d worked up the nerve to post some incredibly violent/dark shit and now i need to go through the whole process of telling myself i’m allowed to do that and nobody’s gonna be like, horrifically weirded out if i do-

#gav gab #writing liveblog #colloquially known as 'the torture fic' lmao the first chapter is basically Just Violence #and the second and third chapters are like #reckoning with trauma and recovery and damage etc #contemplated making an ao3 alt just to post that fic #and others that are like #more extreme than my usual fare #but got talked out of that by some friends who made some great points #SURE WISH I REMEMBER WHAT THOSE POINTS WERE NOW

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no-where-new-hero · 8 months

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I need to know more about this attempt at a fourth Emily book

Oh gosh, I really haven’t thought about this for YEARS, this was a product of me being like 15 and naive enough to try and write an Emily x Dean happy ending without realizing that a purely romantic Dean was neither in the spirit of how LMM wrote him nor very interesting.

Basically, I erased a few of the years that passed between Ilse calling off the wedding and Teddy coming back to New Moon, so that the year after Emily and Teddy married, WWI began. Naturally, both Teddy and Perry would have been drafted. I envisioned Ilse moving back to PEI, and she and Emily would do comic and Rilla-ish things for the war effort. Meanwhile, Dean—who of course wouldn’t have been able to fight—comes back as well. He writes a book of pacifist poetry or something not particularly patriotic, which doesn’t endear him any better to the locals. In my teenaged mind, he and Emily would then resurrect something of romance. Whether or not it’s actively something consummated, Emily would have betrayed Teddy in spirit if not in body.

Now, though, if I were to follow this war-themed plot thread, I think I absolutely wouldn’t go that route. I think Emily’s attitude to Dean and to herself would have completely changed as she grew older and seen more of the world. She would understand him better and perhaps pity him just a little—she was so nearly him, losing the love of her life to someone else. I’m not entirely settled about how Dean would react to this change: On the one hand, I’m tempted to think that he would miss not being able to patronize her anymore (I'm sure he would try and it wouldn't work the way it used to). As with many Gothic pairings, their relationship relied on inequality. On the other hand, if underneath his possessive jealousy he really does care genuinely for Emily—which we might infer if only from the final scene when he admits that she can write—they might be able to negotiate a new kind of friendship, where Dean can claim his corner of her life without it being unnecessarily fraught. Even now, I'm not sure how much of this is possible--despite Emily's newfound cynicism, she still seems a bit naive at the end of EQ about what he intends about claiming a corner of her home--but I do believe that her own literary achievements would be able to help her hold her own against him.

In the end, I always intended Teddy and Perry to come home—as much as I enjoy tragedy, I couldn’t sacrifice either in good faith—though I assigned Perry many heroic war wounds. Emily also would have written a Great Canadian Novel based on the war that would have been set up as a counter to Dean's pacifist poems. In some ways their literary output would mark more than anything the divergence in their lives.

Thinking about this now is really interesting though in terms of our previous discussions of Walter in a pairing with Dean! I’m tempted to start writing fanfic scenarios about this instead now.

#i originally wanted to write an Emily bk 4 because i found another fanfic for a bk 4 somewhere on the internet and hated it #HATED IT #i think i was irrationally biased against it because ilse has a child and in no universe did i think that was in character for her #i did not contemplate the implications of a society before widespread birth control where she might not have a choice #it was just like. ilse wouldn’t be the type to become a mother. ergo she wouldn’t be a mother #tbh I almost think she would be the type to get an abortion but that’s another issue #i'm also convinced that the same fic included an endgame for dean with a character from the anne universe #but it wasn't even a more kosher romance like there was still an age gap problem and that was weirder to me without the tenuous excuse #that in emily dean had found something like a soulmate #lmm lockdown #emily of new moon #emily starr #dean priest #teddy kent

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cookinguptales · 5 months

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me: I'm fine about s5 of wwdits, I'm over it, I could probably even write fanfic that doesn't come off as totally irritated rn

dad, apropos of nothing: wow, I really hated the end of s5 of wwdits, it didn't make any sense at all.

me:

#wwdits tag #so it doesn't end up in the main tag I guess #I really am much more mellow about it now #and have been contemplating writing fic #but I guess... the problem is that the main fic I keep thinking about writing I think would carry my feelings into it #so the end would be... I guess positive if you liked the end of s5 #but if you're like me and you hated it then it would feel extremely bittersweet #and ig I just feel weird writing something that doesn't necessarily have a positive ending #it's not what people want from me I guess #but I just can't think of a fic that feels emotionally truthful other than that one

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rotisseries · 8 months

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me writing the plateau shrines in the botw byler au incredibly vague: "there's a trial.... mike has to do some things.... the intent is just to make sure that dudes coming out of 100 year comas are working fine.... that's all you need to know....."

#I'm sorry he's not getting the runes. sorry king no ipad magnet for you that is thoroughly ridiculous #means I have to fudge through the plateau trials though. fantastic. have I mentioned this fic was a bad idea I think it's a bad idea #I will give him the remote bombs though. I'll let him have that #“how's he gonna beat the divine beasts though those need the runes” FUDGING IT #anyway let this be a sign to all not to write fusion aus don't do that shit you feel stupid #hey since we're here though I've been contemplating adding extra memories #I just have to figure out if I want those to be more that mike would find #OR. I make those will's pov. while he's stuck in magical evil fighting stasis in the castle or whatever it is #I'm taking opinions on this #loz byler

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kakusu-shipping · 1 year

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The Mario movie has gotten me obsessed with the Mario Extended Family and general Mario History, to the point that I made myself a Mario Cousin Self Insert

#Emile's Arts #Mariocest #They're kissing on the mouth and it's part of the self insert so I'm tagging it #He's basically a third Mario Bro sense he and the twins are so close in age #Well not SUPER close like 6-7 years-ish #He's Uncle Tony's son because I like Tony I think he's funny he steals off Luigi's plate and that made me laugh #His full name is Emilio but he goes by Emile and he's the only family member who knows the Bros are dating #Because he walked in on them once and REFUSED to be lied to about it #Contemplating making his mama Pauline because that would be INCREDIBLY funny #If Uncle Tony had a kid with the hottest woman in Brooklyn and then she dumped him #fvgkfjgkfdjkl It makes me laugh #He likes Mushrooms and Ghost Stories #He doesn't live with the bros post movie because his mom still has custody every other weekend and he's still in school #But I think he'd skip a lot of school to sneak into Mushroom Kingdom education instead anyway #He gets bullied in school and lot and gets in a lot of fights usually but that doesn't happen in Toad School so it's much more fun #I mostly just wanted to draw the bros as teenagers and see if I can make them distinguishable #Because I might be eventually drawing all my own Mariocest stuff #Cause writing is not going great for me rn #Would love to read a Mariocest fic if anyone has any Thank You #Self Insert #Proship Selfship

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kuwdora · 9 months

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season 3 of witcher netflix has me losing my mind like, I am still rolling around in my vilgefortz wankery. it's still 10k and messy and hilarious and sexy and so thinky. but oh my god i told @flootzavut about the post-3x06 yennskier idea that i didn't have the brain to write....and then i ended up starting to write it anyway. and now i need to be able to write two things at one time otherwise i might just disintegrate. could I be writing anything more different right now? lmao. Not sure how I'm gonna make it during August.

#kuwdora's witcher screaming #i almost feel like apologizing for how i am now actually Posting about witcher things and almost all i can talk about is vilgefortz #and not like any of the 9 geraskefer stories i have #or my yennskier wips #or my ciri wips #but aahhhhhhhhh #one might actually be mistaken that don't love jaskier as much as i do b/c i'm not posting nonstop about him #but my 80k of jaskier fic wips bring me much joy #i should have liveblogged writing my puppetskier story so y'all could have seen me contemplate jaskier's puppet cock for too long #and think about the ways he would interact with small children and his collegiate community as a middle aged hot mess #maybe next jaskier fic i will do that #but for now i'm solidly on vilgefortz #and the yennskier feeeeeeels holy fuck #yeahhh i just need to post more overall #writingdora

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iridescentis · 1 month

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are there any fic prompts circling rn that i haven't seen because i reallyy want to get back into writing but i have not a single idea

i might end up posting some random ass puckentine drabbles at some point because i have ideas for specific scenes but nothing else, and 90% is just a couple lines of dialogue 😭

#i really want to start experimenting with romantic fics again #bc i haven't in YEARS and tbh #it's mainly because ive ran out of fics to read for all my favourite ships #that being said if anyone has any fluffy rilaya fics with a smidge of angst here and there please do send my way #or any of my ships tbh #im just in a fic reading era rn i need recs pls hand em over #this doesn't happen often #the comeback of my dnp fixation inspired it then i found out the insane talent that is smosh fic writer #now im on a roll i need more and cannot locate any #which is why im seriously contemplating writing it myself now

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divinekangaroo · 2 months

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Next in my series of applying my MBA to fandom: Tommy Shelby's Business Case for the Monaghan Boy Race Fixing Scam

Revelation: exactly how fucking high is this man's financial risk tolerance!!?!? Without limitation! and what the fuck is this asset structure? the liquidity?! the ratios are whack, Mr Greene!

Recommendation: do not buy shares in Shelby Company Ltd

#unless you marry into the family #i should do Mr Greene bystander fic i only alluded to his legal necessity in one fic due to the 1929 legislative change RE Corporations Act #Sole Independent Director on Shelby Co Ltd Board representative of all shareholders #at some point he just sits down with Tommy and says like #'of course it's all money laundering do you think I'm stupid? I spend my life becoming Independent Director on the boards of your type-#-of 'family' company; when you hit financial strife which is invariably inevitable I will of course buy your business out from under you'#and tommy contemplates (his gun) the true nature of the crimes of those born to wealth yet again #interestingly SK put EXACTLY the minimum financial/turnover information scattered across S1 episodes to actually populate a business case-#-for the MB scam which leads me to believe he might have actually (or had someone) write the BC to ensure it stacked up #with theeee most narrowest of margins #Can i just say Tommy using actual corporate terms does more for me than any of his sex scenes anywhere #'Good Corporate Hygiene' he says pallid and rage-furious in a room full of fucking Irish-American gangsters or whatever the fuck #the flutter in the gut when he said vaguely while traumatically disassociating 'land. I'm buying land'#the throes of schaudenfreude watching him try to administer a rigid meeting agenda (while his family tolerantly roll their eyes at him)

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teecupangel · 10 months

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*runs to you and shoves a letter, immediately runs away after*

*you look inside and see a note saying: "AC x Bendy and the Ink Machine pls. P.S Clay lives."*

Okay so I’m going to take this as a crossover request and, because I am a devout believer that Desmond is the ultimate isekai protagonist, we’re going to kick Desmond into Bendy and the Ink Machine for this one.

I will be focusing on the first game (although I guess you can set this around Dark Revival if you’d like). This has spoilers to the ending of the first game too.

So for this one, Desmond wakes up at the entrance of the studio. He’s already inside and when he turns around to check the door, ink just starts dripping quickly and turning the entire wall with the door into pure ink that just keeps falling and falling, covering everything.

Desmond was about to touch it when he hears a voice, “Don’t touch that, Seventeen.”

He rummages his bag and finds that he’s missing his phone but there’s now a walkie talker inside that springs to life and he hears Clay go, “Hey, Seventeen. So good news, we’re sorta alive. Bad news, dear old Sixteen screwed up and got us into this mess.”

“Clay?”

“Yup, that’s me. Your old buddy Clay. Well, not old since we only met three months ago.”

Wait, wait. Where am I?” Desmond pauses before he adds, “Where are you?”

“Ah. That’s a bit harder to explain.” Clay said and grew quiet for a moment before he said, “I have no idea where we are, only that this seems to be a location in between? Like the place itself is real but something is distorting everything and that’s making it ‘not real’ at the same time?”

“What?”

“In a nutshell, this place is a ‘bad place’ and we need to find a way to get out. That black ink all over? That seems to be directly connected to the distortion that makes this a very bad place.”

“… Okay so ink bad and we need to get out.” Desmond pauses before sighing, “Just another day for us unlucky subjects, huh?”

“Love your enthusiasm, Seventeen.” Clay said in a fake cheerful tone before adding in a more solemn tone, “As for me, I’m currently tethered to you. Well, my digital consciousness is anyway. I’d like it if you keep the walkie talker close since that’s the only thing I can find in your bag I can connect to.”

“Tethered?”

“I have no body at the moment so think of me as a ghost or something.” Clay clarifies before admitting, “And I’m the reason why we’re here in this creepy place.”

“Desmond… something here can give me my own body.”

Unorganized Notes:

So the idea is that their main objectives are (1) find what can make Clay his own body and (2) find an exit.

They can use one of the ink machines to make Clay a body but the ink machines they find can only give Clay a very ‘cartoony’ body that looks like a Disney ripoff. (I’m thinking either we give Clay a Boris body or a cute small Bendy body)

They don’t know about Bendy or any of his ‘friends’ since AC world has Disney instead so Desmond would probably call Clay’s boy either Doofy (if Boris) or something like Smiley (for Bendy).

If we’re setting this during the first game, Desmond meets up with Allison who tells him that she’s looking for a man named Henry who should be in the studio. Allison will give him the info dump of the place but also calls him a ‘stranger’ because he shouldn’t be here at all (which was true).

… I kinda want Desmond to be able to save Buddy but up to you just how dark you want this to be.

Once they reach the ink machine that can give Clay an actual body, they find Henry who is starting to lose it and trying to destroy the machine to try and stop the loop. So now, they have to make a choice. Help Henry find a way to end this endless nightmare or stop Henry so they could get Clay his own body?

#i was contemplating if the ink machines #could like make ink copies of desmond’s ancestors #but i feel like if it could #it would be funnier if they were like bendy in the assassin robes of his ancestors #and they don’t talk but they got the assassin skills #and they obey desmond #idk #i didn’t include it in the actual notes #because i feel like it would make the idea not that scary anymore #and more on the ‘aaawww’ side #ask and answer #desmond is the ultimate isekai protagonist #assassin's creed #desmond miles #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #clay kaczmarek #bendy and the ink machine #fic idea: crossover

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