#<- that's a writing tag

[lunastarhawk]

Tides of Memories part 28, Chapter 3 - The Privateer: On the Tides of Fate

These chapter names are getting ridiculous.

WiP Wednesday has turned out to be a freshly posted entire chapter, hurrah!

It's silly, and too long, I know it is. I've lost control. It's Julian and Altheia's story and they are out of control. But I'm having fun, and that's the point really.

Summary

Julian continues to regain memories of the beginning of his and Altheia's time together from her days as a privateer, reliving the intense spark of attraction and intimacy, the thrill of life aboard her ship, and a close encounter with pirates.

Excerpt

“Are they pirates?” “Not the aggressive kind, but yes. Her captain and I have something of a history,” she said tersely. “He’s a nuisance.” “The Vesuvian smugglers you were talking about?” “Either that, or he’ll know about them.” “He’s tacking towards us, Cap’n,” Maurice called. “I see that, thank you. Keep steady, the wind’s in our favour.” She grinned suddenly. “This’ll be fun. I do love when he puts up a fight. I wonder if he’s got himself a magician yet.” Julian felt the thrill of adrenaline rush through him, but he was conflicted. He’d had enough of standing on the sidelines of a battle for one lifetime. And he certainly didn’t relish the prospect of watching Altheia get hurt - though he couldn’t deny finding the sudden fierceness of her incredibly attractive. And then he felt guilty for doubting she could handle herself - he was very sure that she could - and guilty for having such inappropriate feelings at such an inappropriate time. Altheia turned her head to look properly at him for a moment, and her expression softened. She sighed, glanced up at the sails and, apparently judging that there was enough wind that they didn’t need any of her magic, gestured to him to follow her. “Come with me. We’ve got a few minutes.” She hopped down the steps and onto the main deck, and then through the door to her cabin. Julian followed her, but as soon as the door closed behind him she swept him into her arms and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. He was so surprised that he didn’t respond immediately, but when she pressed her thigh between his legs he melted into her. Between kisses, he managed to murmur, “I have… absolutely no idea… what’s going on.” Altheia couldn’t help but laugh against his mouth, but she entwined one hand into the curls of his hair while the other wrapped around the small of his back, pulling him closer. After a moment they broke apart for air, and Altheia gave a breathless chuckle as she rested her forehead on his collarbone, her hands on his shoulders. His hands came to rest in the curves of her waist and he looked into the bright sea-green of her eyes as she reached up to tug affectionately at a curl of hair that had escaped the tie at the back of his head. “Julian, I…” She paused, bit her lip, looked down. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Julian blinked down at her, struggling to form a thought, never mind words. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said eventually. She lay her palm on his cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. But you should go below decks, I think. Maybe with Kiri.” Julian, still very aware of Altheia’s lean thigh between his legs, her hand on his cheek and the other on his hip, her waist beneath his hands, grappled with what she was suggesting. He shook his head, and gave a rueful burst of a laugh. “I can’t… quite find words,” he told her. “Or thoughts, actually. But I… I don’t want to hide away. I want to be by your side.”

The rest is on AO3!

[cityelf]

this poem is about being nonbinary.

[so-many-ocs]

[on the verge of having a complete breakdown] i need to make some kind of list or perhaps sort things into categories

[evidently-endless]

i think we should remind musicians they can absolutely make up little stories for their songs btw. it doesn’t have to be about them at all. you can invent a guy and put him in situations to music. time honoured tradition in fact.

[samuelroukin]

they need to invent a writing that is easy. and fast also

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[frankierotwinkdeath]

Y’all want Taylor Swift to be gay so bad but you won’t even write femslash about her

[noodles-and-tea]

Icons, truly

[beepboopappreciation]

Is this anything

[lunastarhawk]

Dancing with Ice and Shadow

Part 26 of Julian post-route series Tides of Memories

I struggled a bit but found my va-va-voom eventually. It's finally coming together. I think.

Summary

Julian and Altheia finally find everything they need to complete the ritual to break the spell holding back Julian's memories of their past. But as Asra's last secret is revealed, with potentially devastating consequences, they find that the stakes are far higher than any of them could have imagined.

Excerpt

The tug on her magic was becoming uncomfortable, and she realised it was leading her to the desk.  She sifted through some of the papers and pages of Julian’s book that he’d left there, and then ran her hand over the leather of his belt, its pouches, the spyglass, the compass… but no, that wasn’t what was pulling her.  Frowning, she opened the drawers beneath the desk, though she was certain that she and Julian had thoroughly checked them when they’d explored the ship; and indeed, they were empty. But just as she started to close the largest drawer in the centre of the desk, a sound like the wind chimes in her bedroom window touched the back of her mind.  She pulled the drawer out as far as it would go, reached inside and felt around; and found an indentation at the back.  She pressed it, and a secret compartment popped out.  The tug on her magic stopped as she reached inside. Her fingers brushed over a smooth leather surface - a book, she realised, and carefully pulled it out, pushing some of Julian’s papers aside so she could lay it on the desk and shoving the drawer closed with her hip.  The pre-dawn light was still dim, and so she cast an orb of light above her, illuminating the dark red leather cover with lettering that might once have been gold-leaf but was faded from use, the cover itself worn at the edges.  But she could still make out the title; Nautical Almanac and Astronomical Ephemeris Altheia bit her lip, a tremor running to her hands, her heart pounding and thundering in her ears.  She opened the book to somewhere in the middle, and let the pages slowly slip past her thumb towards the front cover.  There were charts and tables of numbers she supposed were coordinates, symbols she didn’t recognise, the names of stars, planets and constellations she did recognise but couldn’t fathom the context.  Here and there, notations were scribbled in pencil in handwriting she couldn’t read and didn’t linger on.  Despite not recognising it, it was all… familiar, somehow.   A cold, numb sensation troubled the base of her skull as the realisation crept over her.  It was hers.  Like the pennywhistle and hat they’d found in the chest below decks, with Julian’s vielle, relics from their distant, forgotten past.   She reached the inside cover, and held the first page down with one finger.  There, the title was printed again, bold against the well-thumbed and crinkled paper.  But beneath it, a simple scrawl scratched with quill and ink in a hand she recognised.  Her breath left her in a rush and came back in a gasp, and she pressed her hand over her mouth as she read; May the stars guide you Yours always ~ J.

The rest is on AO3! :)

[jonquilandlace]

[sanct1f1ed]

favorite stan twins characterization is that they're both equally insane. stanley just gets more air time to show it off. loosely inspired by a post i read earlier but here's some absolutely insane things both of them have done

stanley:

drugged a person and turned them into an exhibit in the mystery shack

had a vegas wedding to a prospector-themed novelty dispenser

gave mabel a grappling hook

failed to steal an animatronic badger

chewed his way out of the trunk of a car

punched at least three bald eagles

is multiply divorced, possibly even with the novelty dispenser

committed premeditated murder on a llama

faked a heart attack to get on Wheel of Fortune

took his clothes off in front of a live studio audience on Wheel of Fortune

has a rivalry with a fifth grader, a grandmother, and a man who exclusively dresses like a corn cob

stanford:

pulled a gun on a bus driver when he wouldn't let a pig on board

directly assisted in mind-controlling ronald reagan during his election in 1980

gave mabel a crossbow

got bitten by a vampire bat and subsequently began sampling human blood

owns contraband outlawed in 9000 dimensions; keeps it in an extremely flimsy plastic case

"accidentally" set a hawk on fire

has exes ranging from as normal as his old college buddy to as weird as a triangle and an alien with 7 eyes who put a metal plate in his head

wears turtlenecks because he's hiding multiple tattoos he regrets, including one themed around "all star" by smash mouth

is an Extremely wanted criminal across hundreds of dimensions; was completely kicked out of one for card counting

is, bizarrely, super into the band Eurythmics

can see shrimp colors

[euthymiya]

“Did you know—”

“I don’t care,” Sukuna interrupts, wholly disinterested. It’s half past three—(which is, of course, his fault, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less tired).

But you, wholly uncaring, promptly ignore him. “—That some female spiders eat the male ones after mating?”

“What do you want me to do with this information?” He looks at you irritably, glaring at you from the corner of his eyes. You flash him a grin—it’s a mischievous little thing, your lips curled in a cheeky, flirty way that warns him silently that he’s about to risk popping another vein. He seems to do that around you quite often, and it certainly feels like it’s underway once more.

(And, as it always is, his intuition would be right).

“It’s a warning,” you hum.

He snorts, raising a clearly disbelieving brow as he hums, “oh yeah? For what? Are you gonna—wha-hey!”

Not a lot catches Sukuna off guard. You giggle as he barks out a surprised yelp of your name, harshly shoving you away from his chest. There’s a nice, fresh, very crystal and very clear outline of your teeth marked right on the flesh surrounding his nipple.

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks incredulously.

You let out a soft, amused little giggle that sounds through the room before he feels your weight shift and fall onto him, making him grunt as his arms steady you and his eyes stare up at your hovering face with an agitated purse of his lips.

“I’m eating you,” you say cheekily, “see?” For emphasis, you leave an equally as shocking bite to his bicep, your head leaning down to get a mouthful of his bare arm. He lets out a low, startled grunt before one large and very firm hand grabs the back of your neck and yanks you off.

“Have you completely lost it?” He hisses.

“We just mated—”

“Who on Earth talks about sex like that? We are not animals who—”

“—And now I’m going to eat you after mating. Like a female spider.”

“If you’re going to be weird, just go the fuck to sleep,” he grumbles lowly.

Sukuna is tired.

(And yes, the reason is partly because he’s a bit inexhaustible once he’s felt the velvet heat of your walls, and yes, it’s technically his own greediness that’s worn him out so physically for the night. But that’s all been the cost for something of greater benefit to him. Something he doesn’t exactly mind draining his energy for.

Bur your odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird schemes are not a part of the list of things he’s willing to sacrifice his energy for. There isn’t much pleasure in entertaining your nonsense most of the time.

If anything, there’s pain—the stinging bite marks on his skin can attest to that.)

“I’m not tired,” you hum.

“Then let me make you tired,” he offers smugly, lips tugging into a cocky grin as he looks up at you.

“If you didn’t manage that the first time, what makes you think that’ll work the second?” You tease.

He doesn’t seem to like that very much, because with a growl, he pushes the back of your neck until your face falls into the crook of his neck, a strong, bulky arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place against his body.

It’d be awfully intimate, and awfully sweet if he didn’t mumble, “I love when you sleep because it’s the only few hours of the day I get to hear you shut the fuck up.”

“Maybe if you’d just appreciated my fun fact—”

“You bit my fucking nipple.”

“I could bite the other one, too, if you want,” you pipe up with an excited grin. He can feel it pressed against his skin as your face buries deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Sukuna is tired. Most of the time, it’s because of you. All of the time, he chooses to allow it because he likes having you around for a good fuck.

(And, of course, there’s all that bullshit about love and affection, too. But that’s just that odd stuff you like to babble about—that odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird emotional part of you that somehow ropes him into being the same way every once in a while.

He doesn’t like it.)

“You need a lobotomy,” he mutters, wincing when you bite the skin of his neck in response. Not in a manner he likes, either—very much in a manner that makes sure he feels the sharpness of your incisors.

“Don’t be rude,” you scold, “I’m biologically meant to be your predator.”

“You biologically give me fuckin’ migraines.”

You grin—it’s a smile that’s easy. Smooth. Maybe a little giddy, too. It comes out only around Sukuna. Him and his gruff, rugged way of accepting your affection, and his double as rough and crude way of giving it back. His callused hands and toughened knuckles that brush along your cheeks carefully. His crass and undignified words that are carefully thought out enough to never cross the line. His downturned lips and narrowed eyes that only ever soften at the sharp corners around you.

“Next time, I’ll eat you for sure,” you murmur, settling against his chest and getting comfortable. He wraps both arms around you, warm and tight enough that you almost think you can forgo the blanket altogether. “Assert my dominance.”

“You can’t even open the pickle jar.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s only a matter of time until natural selection gets you,” he snickers quietly. You huff, biting back a smile as he yawns.

Gently, with a kiss over the bite mark you left against his neck, you say softly, “goodnight. Love you.”

“Night.”

“I love you.”

“For the love of—love you too, holy fuck. Go to sleep.”

[moldycigarette]

this x simon “ghost” riley

cw!: praise, size kink, creampie, breeding kink, bulge, simon’s a nasty dog (and i tried to warn ya)

—————

simon never fails to remind you how much bigger he is than you.

you’re short? no problem, all those missing inches go to simon. oh wait you’re tall? whatever, he still towers over you.

are you chubby by society’s standards? just means there’s more for him to love. skinny? that’s okay too, he’s always down to eat whatever you can’t finish.

no matter what size or shape you are, it’s a guarantee that simon is still bigger than you. and he always manages to remind you of that in the bedroom.

his large hands around your waist, pounding into you with his thick cock. he obsesses over the bulge in your cute tummy from his size, practically drooling over the fact that he can’t even fit inside you’re pretty pussy all the way.

whether he’s fucking you doggy style or in a mating press, he will always tower over you. he makes sure you’re cum is on his fingers and his tongue alone before he shoves his meaty dick inside you; this man has the libido and stamina of a god.

“g’nna fuck this p’ssy so good, love. fill ya’ up to the brim,” he moans, his thrusts growing more erratic as he feels that familiar heat in his stomach.

you’re coming right along with him, seeing stars while he peppers kisses in your neck. “such a good girl f’r me, g’nna make the best mama.”

—————

um sorry didn’t mean to let out my inner whore

[samuelroukin]

hell yeah brother

[daisywords]

One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.

Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.

It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?

Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.