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Fanfic tiktok is wild... I see so many people saying shit like "I could never read anything below 60k!!", or "What story can you even tell in under 5k words?" or "A oneshot below 10k isn't even a story!" or "I always filter completed fics by 100k< only!"
And I'm like...
A) which fandoms are you reading fics for where you have this kind of offerings on the regular?
B) have you heard of short stories? If you truly think every story NEEDS to be longform to connect with people, I sincerely feel sorry for you.
C) Average novel length is between 50k to 100k. I'm sorry, but CONSISTENTLY demanding fic writers to push out fics of that length is insane. Just think about it: YOU DEMAND AUTHORS TO PUT OUT FICS THAT COMPARE TO COMMERCIAL NOVELS IN LENGTH (AND QUALITY) AS A BASELINE.
Yall are wilding.
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"lol you know rengoku would be so loud and obnoxious during sex right like scream in your ear and say some ick shit lmfao haha cringe"
Tell me how it feels to be so weak and pathetic because I wouldn't know.
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“pillow princesses don’t do anything in bed”
Uhhhh let me stop you right there - I’m literally pretty??? I’m literally being pretty in bed? 🙄
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Maybe if I made a grown man arch his back off the bed and groan my name, I’d calm down.
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I fucking love writing dramatic angst between characters. Miscommunication? Check. Misunderstandings? Check. Hiding their feelings so the other person can live a life they think is better when in reality it's better for the two of them to be together? Double check.
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I am not unaware of the negatives of Biden's presidency, and I am not trying to elide or forgive them. I'm reblogging posts about the Biden administration because I think it's really important that potential voters in the US realize that there is, in fact, a very big difference between the two parties, and voting for Biden is not just damage control--it actually does good. It's okay, you can actually feel a little excited about making meaningful progress, and not just hold your nose.
He's been very unflashy. He's not a great leader, he's not charismatic and he knows it, but he's an adroit politician and administrator, and he's been getting things done. Letting Trump win at this point would be tantamount to throwing the entire country on the bonfire. It's not a choice between bad and bad, it's a choice between meaningful, if imperfect, progress and fucking doom.
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Ovulation is over. I’m a petty bitch now, thank you
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you know the anecdotal thing about how Christian kids who really love the gospel and grow up extremely devout are the ones who are most likely to leave the church, because they're the ones who will actually study and try to understand and realize the contradictions between their theology and the culture of their congregation, rather than just following tradition because it's what they're told?
this is a post about Harrowhark Nonagesimus and heresy
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Ovulation body is a trap that has unfortunately ensnared my husband
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writing this lactation + breeding kink is uh…making me learn things about myself
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There’s nothing quite like the feeling of buying a new vibe, charging it all night, waiting all day- working, going to the gym, doing chores- and coming home to just finally FINALLY be able to relax and unwind just for it to NOT FUCKING WORK
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thank you @muvaginger for reminding me that men’s true personalities come out when they’re getting their dick sucked.
Take Sanemi Shinazugawa for example — sure, he acts all rough and tough, but under that hard exterior is a softy who is desperate to be taken care of. So when you’re on your knees before him and taking his cock deep down your throat, he is a whining, whimpering, shaking MESS. Your tongue stroking the underside of his shaft while your cheeks hollow around him is just too much for him to take, and before long he’s begging you to let him cum down your throat.
Kyojuro Rengoku, on the other hand, loses his damn mind whenever your mouth is on his cock. No matter if he starts out standing or sitting, he’s eventually gonna end up on top of you because he needs to push himself as far down your throat as he can go, and he knows you can take him. His hands are going to your neck and squeezing lightly, forcing your muscles to contract around him while he steadily begins fucking your mouth. He’s not able to form a coherent word — he’s only grunting and panting. Sure, your access to oxygen might be a tad limited, and the combination of tears and your own saliva is starting to choke you a bit, but the only thought on Kyojuro’s mind is how badly he wants to fill your throat with his cum, so you’re just gonna have to stick it out. But hey, at least his aftercare is divine.
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Flash, Flirt, Fuck
Fandom: Demon Slayer/Kimetsu no Yaiba
Rating: Mature/Explicit - Minors DNI (18+ only)
Genre: Smut
Pairing: Sanemi/Reader
Tags: College AU, flashing you classmate, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, unprotected sex, spin-the-bottle, truth or dare, light banter, AFAB reader, mildly dubious consent (due to alcohol), wingman Makio, switch reader
Wordcount: 3.4k
Flash your crush or eat your friend's potentially hazardous takeout leftovers? The dare is a no-brainer, even if your crush happens to have permanent resting bitch face and has made a few of the college freshmen almost piss themselves in fear. You know he's not all hard edges, so what's the harm?
Cross-posted from my AO3 account.
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“I dare you to flash Sanemi,” Makio slurred, the four drinks she’d slammed starting to affect her speech.
You laughed, taking a sip of your spiked lemonade- the only alcoholic drink you could handle as the lightweight of your college group. You were barely on your second and already feeling quite the buzz; chest light and a weightlessness to your limbs that would turn to lead once the booze began to wear off.
“You want me to walk all the way to the boy’s hall to flash Sanemi? The resident hardass?”
Makio grinned, bringing the amber bottle to her lips and keeping eye contact while she took a deep pull. It was always astonishing to watch her retain most of her fine motor skills even when sloshed to high heaven while you would fail a drunk driving test sober.  You’d already missed your mouth once, resulting in a rapidly drying spot on your shirt that still smelled like booze.
“You gonna take the penalty instead?”
“Ew, no,” you waved your hand, cringing at the idea of having to eat whatever leftover (and probably moldy) food was stuffed in the back of Suma’s fridge. The girl had a habit of forgetting takeout and growing new strains of bacteria that should probably be classified as hazardous waste and disposed of as such. “I like my life, thank you.”
“It’s not that bad!” Suma sipped her drink, lip wobbling. “I cleaned it out last month. You guys are so meaaaaan!”
“Get going, then,” Shinobu waved you off, smiling lazily and swirling the glass of wine she was nursing. “And one of us will tail you to make sure you don’t chicken out.”
“I’m glad you all will be enjoying this,” you stood, almost toppling over as the floor swayed. “Because I’m 100% sure I’ll be getting chewed out for flashing my tits instead of the thanks I deserve for blessing him with this view.”
“You can cry yourself to sleep later,” Makio called after you, laughter from the large group echoing behind you, a stupid, drunk smile still on your face.
The boy’s hall was one floor down, and you didn’t trust yourself on the stairs, so you had to wait for the elevator. Heat rolled off your skin from the warmth of the room you’d just left- it had been near suffocating with the bodies of all your friends pressed together in a game of Spin-the-Bottle. The suggestion had come from Mitsuri, and the rest of you agreed, eager for some fun and laughs. The dares had started off simple, as had the truths, devolving into more debauched and crazy requests as the alcohol hit everybody’s systems.
The elevator doors finally opened, and you entered, mashing the button for the floor below yours while leaning against the wall languidly.
It was Hinatsuru who’d actually gotten you into this predicament, if you really thought about it. The conversation had turned to the boy’s hall earlier on in the game, around the time you’d chosen truth on your turn.
“Fuck, marry, kill,” Hinatsuru said. “With Tengen, Sanemi, and Kyojuro.”
Your answer had surprised everyone, leaving mouths agape around the entire circle when you chose to off the infamous lady-killer Tengen, marry the college heart-throb Kyojuro, and fuck Sanemi Shinazugawa. No explanation was provided in the following uproar, but you hadn’t been so drunk as to miss the devious sparkle that lit in Makio’s eyes. She’d been waiting for you to choose “dare” and pounced the moment the words had left your lips.
Now you were stumbling down the hall, counting doors until you reached room 413. You paused for a fraction of a second, wondering if you should think through the all the possibly embarrassing outcomes, but didn’t let the hesitation sway your resolve. Rapping on the door, you tucked a stray hair behind your ear. A few moments passed and you wondered if maybe Sanemi was out, and you wouldn’t have to complete the dare. Maybe you’d get a pass (and also wouldn’t have to consume any of the potentially fatal food from Suma’s fridge).
The universe had other plans, however, as the door opened to reveal a scowling white-haired man. The black sweats he wore hung low on his hips, a white undershirt clinging to his torso and leaving his shoulder bare. The jagged scars across his entire body did nothing to hinder the butterflies starting to dance in your gut at the sight of him.
He’d been your crush since you started school, and until tonight you’d hidden it pretty well.  Almost everyone thought he was a grumpy asshole (which he could be sometimes), and you’d even been half-frightened to death the first time you’d seen him, his sharp voice making your heart stutter in fear, but the trepidation quickly faded as you watched him interact with faculty and some of the younger students. He was respectful, if blunt, and even if he was a bit harsh on the new kids, he went out of his way to make sure they got to the right classes. You’d caught the tail end of his conversation with what you assumed was his younger brother a few weeks back that solidified your perception of him to be correct: he was a big softie underneath that prickly exterior.
It also didn’t hurt that Sanemi was gorgeous to look at. He obviously took good care of himself, and had stunning features: lavender eyes, white hair, and long lashes. He wasn’t as tall as some of the other guys in school, like Tengen, but you didn’t give a flying fuck when his body looked like that and his voice had that raspy growl when he spoke.
“What do you want?”
The flat tone broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality where Sanemi stood with his arms crossed and a bored look on his face. As much as you felt like throwing up from the way your nerves were turning the butterflies in your stomach into poisonous slugs, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and flipped it up. The cool air of the hall raised gooseflesh on your stomach and tits, and you almost shivered.
The look on Sanemi’s face went from blank, to confused, to alarmed in less than a second, and you wished you could have recorded it to watch later. You dropped your top back down, tilted your head with a coy smirk, and clasped your hands behind your back as you took a step back, turning on your heel to head back to your friends without a word, dare complete.
“What the hell-”
A hand encircled your wrist and you paused, looking back at Sanemi.
“Yeah?”
Sanemi looked lost, an expression you hadn’t expected to see on his face after your little display. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the faintest blush dusting his ears and the high point of his cheek bones.
“What was that for?” he demanded, finally finding his voice.
“A dare,” you shrugged, answering before your brain caught up with your mouth.
He let go of your hand, straightening and recovering his usual pissy frown. You stayed rooted to where you were, staring at him with a curious gaze.
“Just a dare? Not… ‘cause you wanted to?”
He sounded borderline petulant if your ears were hearing things right. You kicked aside your nerves to step closer, meeting his eyes and getting uncomfortably close to him.
“Can’t it be both?”
He swallowed, eyes flickering down to your parted lips.
“Is… it?”
You lidded your eyes, grinning up at him, a breath away from his face. His own eyes were starting to grow a bit hazy with want, sending a thrill through you.
“Why don’t you use some context clues?”
“Why don’t you spell it out for me?” he countered, hands coming up to rest gently on your hips.
You caught your lip between your teeth, sliding your fingers under the edges of the narrow white straps of his tank top and tugging him closer.
“I want you to fuck me.”
Sanemi’s arms were around you before you realized it, and your world was literally turned on its head as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. A doorframe passed your view, and the creak and slam let you know that you were inside his room before he threw you onto the bed, eyes filled with lust.
“Say the word,” he caged you in with his arms. “And I’ll stop.”
“What do I say to make you keep going?” you asked playfully, sliding your hands down his chest.
Sanemi made a noise in his throat, surging forward to capture your lips with his. His tongue danced along your teeth and you nipped at his lower lip, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sage green covers crumpled under your back as you writhed under the feeling of his thumbs rubbing circles just above your hip bones.
“I didn’t get a good look at these earlier,” Sanemi pulled back breathlessly, hooking his fingers under your shirt and lifting it to your chin. “Open.”
You obeyed, and Sanemi stuffed the hem of your top into your mouth, making you hold it up while he dropped to lavish your breasts with attention. One calloused thumb pad brushed over the pebbled nub, sending sparks throughout your body, whimpers escaping around the fabric clenched in your teeth. His tongue pressed against the other nipple, enveloping it in heat. You tried to draw your legs up, but Sanemi forced them apart with one knee, pressing into your crotch. You squirmed against it, trying to get friction, not caring if you looked desperate.
Sanemi pulled back, relieving you completely of your shirt as he tugged it over your head. Your mouth finally free, you propped yourself up on your elbows to chase his lips. He obliged you, letting the taste of his mouth fill yours, a hand dropping to trace your skin with blunt fingertips. Everything was heady from alcohol and lust, and you giggled against his touch. It was like a dream: you and Sanemi.
The hunger for more was quickly sinking its teeth into your stomach.
You pushed yourself up, forcing Sanemi’s compliant form back until he was sitting on his knees. Hands found their way to his waistband, and he assisted in removing the offending fabric. Hot, moist breath fanned over his erect member, one of his hands already buried in your hair. You pressed the flat of your tongue to the underside, licking up and reveling in the sharp intake of breath above you.
“Fuck,” Sanemi groaned.
You took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the dark pink head to hear those lovely noises that he tried desperately to hold back escape from his throat. Scarred hands had threaded through your hair and gripped tightly, controlling your movements. Spit dripped down the sides of his dick and clung at the corners of your mouth as Sanemi fucked your face, eyes locked on where his cock slipped in and out of your swollen lips.
“Shit,” he cursed, pulling you off of him after a particularly deep thrust that had left you gagging around him. “Are you-”
“Good,” you assured him, eyes half closed in contentment, flickering downwards as you caught your lips between your teeth.
“Lay down,” Sanemi instructed, an amused smile creeping onto his face as you scrambled to obey.
He moved to between your legs, a hand dropping to slide against the bundle of nerves at the apex of your sex. You whimpered, wriggling against his touch and clutching the sheets with both hands.
“Touch your tits,” Sanemi said. “Since you were so intent on showing off earlier.”
You flushed a deep ruddy color, hands hesitantly coming up to brush over your breasts as a sliver of embarrassment wormed its way into your brain. Sanemi watched your face, your own gaze obscured by lowered lashes and intent on staring at his hand moving at your core.
“Look at me,” he commanded, drawing your eyes to his. “Say my name.”
“S-Sanemi.”
Now that Sanemi was controlling the situation, you found yourself more nervous and unsure of yourself, not used to having the attention on you like this during sex: his smoldering intense gaze and demand for eye contact unsettled- but also thrilled- you.
“Again,” Sanemi pressed one finger against your entrance.
“Sanemi…” you swallowed, body tensing involuntarily.
“Relax,” he lowered himself down until his breath warmed your neck, pressing kisses against your throat. “Say it again.”
“Sanemi-”
Your voice pitched up at the end of his name as his finger plunged into you, velvet walls clenching at the intrusion. Sanemi swore under his breath, rolling his hips against the mattress in time with the slow thrusts of his finger inside of you, slowly pressing another in alongside it after a minute. Your whole body rippled and clenched, searching for more stimulation and touch, arms wrapping around Sanemi’s broad shoulders.
“More, please,” you whined into his hair.
“Already? You sure you’re ready?” Sanemi asked, lifting his head to look you in the eye.
You nodded, furrowing your brow and frowning. Sanemi tried to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips and cleared his throat to cover a laugh at your pout. His fingers withdrew from the warmth of your body, making you gasp. He readjusted, positioning himself at your entrance, and you could swear you saw his hands tremble from excitement.
“Fffffu-” Sanemi’s swear was cut off as you clenched around him.
As much as you tried to relax, the pressure between your legs made your body flex and tense. It wasn’t making Sanemi’s job any easier- although from the look on his face, you assumed it wasn’t exactly a bad thing.
“Shit, you’re so- fuck-”
The garbled praise stroked your ego. You wiggled your hips, feeling a bit of satisfaction when Sanemi grabbed them to keep you from moving, face turning pink as his mouth fell open.
“D-don’t do that. Give me a second.”
“Aww,” you crooned, teasing a bit. “Pussy too good?”
“Shut up,” he scowled (not a true scowl, you noted with delight) and pulled his hips back, snapping into you with a ferocity you didn’t expect. A gasp escaped your lips and your own cheeks pinked.
The pace was slow but steady; deep strokes dragging against your plush walls. Each time he plunged into you it felt like he pressed farther in, hitting deeper and deeper until you were sure he couldn’t get any more in your guts than he was, only to be proven wrong. You were breathless as each thrust forced the air from your lungs in a choked whimper, Sanemi’s hips bruising the back of your thighs with the amount of force he applied in retaliation for your teasing.
Your eyes threatened to roll back into your skull, mouth open in a silent cry, tits bouncing with each slap of skin.
“What’s the matter?” Sanemi taunted, throwing your words back into your face. “Dick too good?”
You whimpered a reply, digging your hands into the covers that had rucked up around your head from all the movement. The ridges of the ropy scars adorning his hips were quickly imprinting themselves into the skin of your backside from the harsh impact of each thrust. Sanemi’s pale skin had flushed across his chest and cheeks from the exertion, heat rolling off his figure in waves. A faint sheen of sweat covered both of your bodies, glittering in the low light of Sanemi’s bedside lamp as lewd sounds filled the air.
Your keens began to pitch upwards at the end as Sanemi adjusted the angle he fucked into you at, curling his body over yours and pressing his lips against your collarbone as you released the sheets to anchor your hands in his hair once again. Dark marks painted the column of your neck and along your decollete, purple and damp from Sanemi’s mouth. His hips stuttered against yours, movements starting to become frantic and erratic as your legs instinctively locked around his waist, drawing him closer. He snaked one hand down between the two of you, fumbling fingers flicking your clit with a marked lack of the earlier finesse he’d displayed.
You legs flexed, core winding tighter until a well-timed thrust had you spilling over the edge, his name tearing from your throat. The fluttering of your lush walls around him as you came was Sanemi’s undoing, his own orgasm ripping through him as he groaned your name in a hungry desperation, hips still rutting into you even as the bliss began to fade. It was as if he didn’t want it to end, pushing himself impossibly closer to you and locking his arms around your neck in an embrace as his body slowed to a standstill, half-crushing you under his weight.
“Stay for a bit?”
The faint request was mumbled breathlessly, almost inaudible. You cracked open your eyes, which had fluttered shut in ecstasy earlier. Sanemi was propped on his elbows, half-hovering over you. The tension rose again, something in his eyes melting your heart into a warm sludge that settled in your stomach.
The moment was shattered by a loud voice shouting just outside Sanemi’s door.
 “You have five seconds to become decent before I come in!”
Shinobu’s voice wasn’t hard to recognize, and your face went white. Sanemi threw his shirt at you, grabbing his pants and shoving both feet in, comically wiggling them on. His shirt was just long enough to cover up the important parts on you, even if your nipples were a bit visible through the thin material. The door flung open (Shinobu had granted you an extra second, which you were thankful for) to reveal the dark-haired woman standing with one hand on her hip, the other holding the door wide. The rest of your friends were accumulated behind her, peering around and over her shoulders in varying degrees of shock and delight at your compromising position.
Sanemi glanced between your embarrassed face and the group of girls blocking his door. You could see him put two and two together in his head.
“Did you all have to tail me?” you covered your red face with your hands.
“I take it I have one of them to thank for that dare?” Sanemi’s resting bitch face was back in action as he left the bed, striding over to the group.
“You’re welcome,” Makio raised her bottle in a lazy salute.
“I’ll send you a thank-you card later,” Sanemi took control of the door back from Shinobu. “In the meantime; I’d appreciate it if you’d stop clogging up the hall.”
“I can’t believe she’d rather fuck you than Tengen,” Makio shook her head, pushing off the wall.
“Tengen?” Sanemi raised a brow.
“She chose to kill Tengen in Fuck, Marry, Kill,” Suma offered. “And to Fuck you.”
“Suma!” you groaned. “Can you all just leave?”
Sanemi leaned lazily against the door.
“So is that why you dared her to fuck me?”
There was a chorus of laughter, none louder than Makio’s. Sanemi raised his brows, watching the woman doubled over in laughter.
“We never dared her to sleep with you,” Makio finally straightened, wheezing. “Just to flash her tits.”
The door slammed in their faces, Sanemi’s back to you as he locked it. You swallowed, hands holding the hem of his shirt down over your thighs as you sat in his bed. Sanemi’s shoulders heaved as if he was taking deep breaths.
“You… didn’t get dared to fuck me?”
Sanemi spun on his heel, in front of you before you realized it. His lavender eyes locked with yours. It took a second for you to notice the cocky smile playing on his lips.
“No, but I wanted to, though,” you wet your lips, eyes roving over Sanemi’s face. “Does it matter?”
His lips pulled back to reveal a full smile, something you’d never seen before. His hands came up to either side of your face. When his face was a fraction away from yours, he paused, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.
“Hell-fucking-no,” he growled, surging forward to catch your mouth with his.
Outside the room and down the hall, the gaggle of girls waited at the elevator, voices not exactly quiet.
“Why did you make her flash Sanemi?” Mitsuri asked Makio. “You know he can be… rough around the edges. What if he’d… not been into it.”
Makio laughed.
“A little birdie told me Sanemi had a bit of a crush on a certain someone,” the blonde tossed her empty bottle into a trash receptacle. “And I had a perfect opportunity to play matchmaker. Why shouldn’t I?”
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Fixated on Sanemi lately thanks to all of the content from @peachdues and now I’m writing a one-shot when I should be working on my unfinished multi chapter fics 😭
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Everyone shut up and listen:
Mafia/Crime Boss Sanemi hiring reader as a nanny/babysitter to take care of little Genya while he's doing mob boss shit and then obviously shenanagins ensue but imagine
I'm literally frothing at the mouth and trying to decide if I should start drafting an outline now or after I finish "And They Were Roommates"
(@peachdues)
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Demon Slayer x Studio Ghibli
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Always the writer, never the reader.
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