I Don't Want To Fuck My Mutuals But I'm Pretty Sure Several Of Them Would Want To Fuck Each Other

I don't want to fuck my mutuals but I'm pretty sure several of them would want to fuck each other

People are always talking about how distance is the only thing stopping then from having a big orgy with their mutuals, and maybe this is just my asexuality or my mutuals, but really I'd just go give them a hug and then hang out for an hour or two looking at their figurines or plushies or something.

I dunno. It seems the people I know on Tumblr need a hug and some time with a friend more than they need mind-blowing orgasms.

Snippets from Book 2 I'm particularly proud of

Editing Book 2 right now, and the massive suck of doing a second draft is at least sometimes mitigated by those moments where you come across a really clever bit. Here are some of the ones I'm really proud of. ---

Dee shook their head, overwhelmed by the prospect of being casually told to delete a good portion of what they’d spent a lot of money learning. “That… sounds hard. And like a lot of work.”

“It is,” Rav agreed cheerfully. “But when you find what it is you love to do—”

“You never work a day in your life?” Dee finished wearily.

Rav looked offended. “Hell no. I’m here to help you, not give you Insta platitudes. I was going to say that when you love what you make, that’s inevitably what people respond to the most.”

---

They aimed for casual and landed on cringe when they responded with, “that’s what friends are for.”

Corey blue-screened, which Dee decided was their cue to make way for a paying customer. “See you at five,” they called over their shoulder as they absconded with their thank-you pastry.

Dee berated themself for being weird the entire way back to their car. That’s what friends are for? What were they, some lovable scamp from a 20’s themed Broadway musical about newspaper-selling orphans?

---

“I mean. I’m not as good as you…” they disclaimed, breaking off in dismay when Rav rolled his eyes.

“Okay, first - we’re completely different artists. Second, take the compliment, okay? I was walking around the whole time and you still captured a lot of detail and got a really good likeness.” Dee’s embarrassment only increased when he pulled out his phone and snapped a photo.

“But. You’re not..” They sputtered as they watched him send it to Aspen, only for their cousin to respond immediately with several sparkling heart emojis.

Rav gave them a quelling look. “You’re going to be praised and you’re going to like it.”

It wasn’t exactly possible to slide down in their seat while sitting on a backless stool, but Dee gave it their best shot anyway. “Um. Thank you?”

Welp. Since my demi ace ass had to write a fic about platonic fellatio once I'd thought of it...

New FFXIV fic: Can I suck your dick platonically? No romo.

Length: 5.3K words, (Eventual) very smutty smut Aymeric de Borel / Warrior of Light & Aymeric de Borel / Estinien Wyrmblood Excerpt below the cut:

My already-hard cock stirred, registering its interest in exploring the warm body we were curled around, since we couldn't remember doing it the first time. So, since my bed mate and I had presumably fucked already and today was going to be difficult enough without adding 'sexual frustration' to my long list of very potent woes, I squeezed my bed partner's waist and kissed their shoulder. "Good morning," I murmured.

They stirred and made a sleepy noise. When I ran my hand up one powerful flank, they shifted to press back against me with a noise that might have been interest.

I groaned, rutting against them as I curled my arm around their waist, and...

Look. I'm not proud of this, all right?

I was hung over from too much weeping and desperate for a small moment of bliss before I had to take up the mantle of the Warrior of Light once more. Which isn't an excuse for what happened next - groping someone who is asleep because they weren't immediately unreceptive is inexcusable, and I know that.

But, nevertheless, it's what I did.

I reached around to grip their cock through the soft fabric of their pajama pants, and found it just as hard as mine. My bed partner moaned and bucked against my hand, and I was just about to slip that hand under the waistband of their pants when I finally woke up enough to remember where I was and who I was with.

At which point I disengaged so hurriedly that I would have fallen out of bed if I wasn't on the side right against the wall.

"I'm so, so sorry," I stammered as I tried and was not able to put any amount of distance between us.

Gods, how had we managed to sleep in this tiny bed? Aymeric was so tall, and while I was short by the standards of my own people, I was still taller than Thancred. Even after flattening myself completely against the cold stone wall, there were still so many points of contact, and my only options for escape were either climbing over Aymeric (not an option) or out a second story window (rapidly becoming an option).

Aymeric turned around and caught my wrist before I could do more than brace my elbow on the window sill, and for a wonder his expression held nothing but understanding. "Anyone would have been disoriented after the circumstances of what you have just been through. Rest assured that I am not angry, and on my honor as a Knight I will tell no one of this."

I stared at him in wide-eyed shock, but finally I managed a hoarse "thank you".I must still have looked quite the madman - Aymeric released my wrist dubiously, as though he expected me to attempt escape through the window anyway - and there was an excruciating eternity of eye contact before he sighed. "One night of comfort does little to redress a debt that I can never repay. Would you allow me to. Ah. Provide you some... relief?"

Read the entire fic on AO3

Aymeric is the jock version of G'raha Tia.

Charismatic. From a distinguished lineage. Leader of a nation. OBSESSED WITH ME. Also, captain of the football team and Homecoming King.

So G'raha literally does dimensional time travel to save the WoL and STILL thinks he would never have a shot.

Meanwhile, Aymeric DEFINITELY at some point was like: hey can I suck your dick, like, platonically? No romo

i think i may have just realized why i have the hots for lestat de lioncourt

Just me and a friend making G'raha's backstory a lot funnier

Working on a fic about G'raha and Alisaie falling in lust with each other after G'raha's return from the First, and am amused by where a chain of logic took me. First, my headcanon is that G'raha is trans, as is Alisaie, because if NO ONE is explicitly gay or trans, then anyone can be. No I will not take questions on this point. Second. Transition would have been pretty easy at the Studium. None of the professors give a fuck about your gender as long as your assignments are on time and your research is sourced correctly. So G'raha transitions quickly and seamlessly after arriving in Sharlyan because less time lost to dysphoria = more time for books.

Third. For most trans mascs, T horniness is A Fucking Thing[1]. Unlike Alisaie, who who sucked lots of dick[2] because she liked it, G'raha would have seen this horniness as an imposition. He transitioned so he'd have more time to read, after all.

Fourth. because he's far from the only nerd whose sexuality is "books" at the Studium, G'raha would have ended up with a circle of acquaintances who were willing to discreetly give each other "relief" in the library so they didn't have to interrupt their research.

CONCLUSION. Because G'raha is both a massive overachiever AND a people-pleaser AND a messy bottom, he got really good at letting people fuck his throat.

- - -

[1] I mean, I'm 95% asexual and the T horniness is hitting HARD, which is why I've spent all my time for the past week thinking about G'raha and Alisaie sucking my WoL's dick.

[2] From my previous fic: "Shut up and let me suck your dick, already" She leaned forward, arms crossed. "I've known you a long time, Warrior of Light, and I'm positive that I've had more sexual partners than you," she said, clearly trying to shock me.

It worked. "What... I mean. How--"

She cut me off with another of her edged smiles. "You only sleep with people you have a strong bond with. I, on the other hand, have sucked so. Many. Dicks." She paused for emphasis, fluttered her eyelashes at me, and slowly licked her lips. "And I'm very good at it."

Trying not to think of Alisaie's pretty mouth wrapped around my cock was like not thinking about a pink elephant - utterly impossible once the image had been conjured. I held myself utterly still, trying not to react to the dizzying rush of arousal I felt as my pants suddenly grew far too tight. Unfortunately, my lack of rebuttal only gave her room to press her advantage.

Alisaie held my gaze as she raised a finger to her lips and delicately circled the tip with her tongue before sucking it into her mouth with a soft slurping noise.

Oh Gods oh Gods oh Gods.

My face was on fire. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think of anything but the fantasy of blue eyes on mine as my cock sunk into the wet heat of her mouth.

Alisaie slowly withdrew her finger, then pointedly looked down at the ridge of my erection, which was starkly visible through the pristine white pants I loved wearing with my Red Mage's coat. "Hmm."

(Read the whole thing on AO3)

I feel like Bruce Wayne projects the kind of amiable playboy 'fun' vibe that he'd be the type of celebrity that certain interviewers feel comfortable surprising with puppies.

You know the kind of shows I mean.

The late-night talk show situations where they're making benign small talk with their smiling guest, and there's a segment where animals get brought out, usually to talk about some sort of ecological relief effort.

So you're watching your trash TV talk show late at night, and you get to watch billionaire pretty boy Bruce Wayne be begrudgingly talked into holding a (relatively) harmless creature which inevitably gets a lot of delighted shrieks from the audience as it starts being a lot more active than the handler promised. And to his credit, Bruce doesn't flinch, he doesn't freak out. But his eyes are a little wide, and his voice a little tight as the smile on his face takes on a slight rictus quality before he's inevitably rescued by an apologetic handler who is also laughing because they all know there was no real danger, it was just funny to put Bruce, who is an undeniable good sport and already laughing along, out of his comfort zone for the sake of charity.

Meanwhile, up in the Justice League headquarters, several founding members of the League are wondering how fast they can get a fake Oscar award shipped to the space station because fuck off. Absolutely fuck off, Bruce. Where the fuck did he study? Juilliard? (Probably.)

(Clark ends up going to a novelty store during the commercial break. It's faster than trying to get anything shipped, even with the infrastructure Bats built for them. He finds it several days later taped to his console in a conspicuously empty briefing room. It's gaudy and awful, the words "Best Actor" engraved on the plaque. No one's around to see him smile. No one comments when it vanishes. Everyone thinks it's been yeeted out an airlock. Dick absolutely comments when it shows up in the manor, stashed in one of the trophy cases that sprung up for all the bat kids' school awards. Bruce has no idea how it got there. Must have been Alfred. (It was not.))

Anyway, consider, for your amusement, Bruce Wayne getting highjacked on The Gotham Toight Show with a handful of wriggling puppies and, for a split second, not having to pretend he's delighted to be there.