#—enjoyable/interesting but at the same time. it might come across as a touch random or off-beat maybe. im al for the mobile games and their—

[cosmiclatte28]

Long Flight (Taeyong x you x jaehyun)

SUGGESTIVEEEE YAHOOO (sorry idk what’s with me, I made this into suggestive fic and the idea started when I took a long flight across Pacific Ocean) 

tagging @neopalette and @yutahoes

a/n : do not proceed if you’re young (innocent) other than that, just go lol i know we’re all thirsty. daddy dom and master kink 

jae is your colleague cabin crew (and your daddy), Taeyong is a famous designer taking first class flights who happens to get you as his stewardess and oh a fun night is about to happen in this long flight 

UH AND IT’S A LONG ASS RIDE

Long flights are a literal pain in the ass. For lee taeyong, long flights are inevitable especially with his business trips that require him to fly from Korea to the Free land of the United States. He is lucky as a designer to be called from one runway to another. Attending photoshoots, ending the runway of his collections and of course after parties.

Though he is never fond of the jetlag and morning flights plus the 12 hours butt pain, he finally meets you. From one of his shittiest flight. He needs to rush to New York but his plane got canceled and that’s how both of you meet. You're in charge of the first class passengers and importantly, him. You're trained to give the best service, making sure his seat is comfortable and his bed ready if he really wants to lay down.

“A long flight ahead sir,” you greet him after keeping his suit on the hanger and helping him with his stuffs.

He looks coy with his fitted bomber jacket and eye glasses. His fragrance reminds you of the forest with deep musk coming out from him.

“Yes and my flight got canceled. I was moved here.” He rumbles, though he is sort of happy because he got upgraded to the first class. His invitation earlier was only for business class but here he is now on the second floor with a nice personal stewardess and of course a bed.

“I am so sorry about that, but i'm here to help you enjoy your flight.” You smile nicely to him.

“For now do you want some drinks?” you take out the menu sheet you’ve prepared.

He takes a glance and smirks “Surprise me? I’m in for an enjoyable flight with you (y/n).” Taeyong winks to you.

You blush, “My pleasure, Lee Taeyong-ssi" you bow before leaving him to take the drink and calm your heartbeat.

You know him, he is famous for his designs and cool godly handsome face. Gosh he really looks handsome!

Your light steps bring you to the bar in the lounge and your fellow mate, Jaehyun, is already busy making orders for the other passengers.

“What may I help you with?” Jaehyun playfully smiles at you and winks. You're used to it, you share almost all of your trips with Jaehyun and you won’t lie, both of you share some nights together.

Your eyes scan the liquor collection and hum while you think “I'll just get him some gin and tonic.”

Jaehyun nods “Who is the special guest tonight?”

You gulp “Lee Taeyong, the famous designer.”

Jaehyun smirks, “Lucky you! Guess I'll be alone tonight and the night after.” He steps out of his cubicle and playfully slaps your ass. You glare at him but he just pushes you the drink and kisses your cheek “Goodluck, heard he was a bad drinker.”

You professionally go back to the narrow hallway and stop just in time to see Taeyong taking off his jacket.

“Here's your drink and please let me help you with your jacket.” You reach out your hands and he gladly passes it to you.

“Hmm gin and tonic, simple but best for me.thanks" he winks and gulps down half of the drink.

His face turns red and you clearly knows tomorrow an apple juice might be a better option.

“Did I turn red?” he asks with big eyes while touching his forehead and cheeks to check his heat.

You nod “A bit sir, but you still look great.” You blurt out and turn shy suddenly when he smiles and runs a finger over your arm “Aw thank you, heard that a lot but it sounds better from your red lips. I wonder why you don’t end up on my runway but here instead in this small airplane!”

He sure is not hearing himself, you know he's more humble than this. Must be the drink.

You just smile and nod “Well, I am glad I can serve you tonight. Now, we'll take off soon. Please fasten your seatbelt and ring me up if you need anything. Enjoy your flight sir,” you bow before returning to your seat so the plane can take off.

Taeyong keeps his eyes on you as you exit the aisle and he can’t help but bite his lips when he sees how perfect you walk in a heel and how beautiful your legs are.

“I should probably start making stewardess uniforms.” He giggles to himself before feeling fuzzy and closes his eyes to sleep.

--

“So, any sign he's into you?” Jaehyun asks after the plane is steady in the sky and you're not called over yet. You sit on the stool and lean your chin on your arms.

“What? No way. He's out of my league.” You look to your arms and feel Jaehyun staring at you.

“Huh? Don’t you see how he looks at you when you leave him?” Jaehyun asks while his hands are still busy making drinks. The bar is empty, the passengers are still mostly sitting on their compartments.

You raise a brow “You were stalking me?”

He wiggles his brow “Gotta make sure you are working and not flirting with him.” He pulls your chin and blows over your lips “I know how naughty my little baby can be.”

You feel heat creeps into your core and cheeks. If both of you are not in duty, you'd play along and ask for drinks already.

“Stop teasing me, I am working.” You cough and try to remain professional though Jaehyun's deep stare is not helping you at all.

“We’re going to stay in New York for two nights, where do we wanna go?” Jae traces random lines on your arm and you hold your breath “I don’t know, guess we can have a night of sleep and the other one for fun.” You wink and his smile blooms “Fun? Are we thinking of the same fun?”

You want to answer him but a bell chimes and you glance to the intercom to see Taeyong's request for your assistant.

Jaehyun sighs “Tough competition I smell here.”

You tap his shoulder “Aw don’t be sad. I'll be right back, promise.” You blow him a flying kiss and tidy up your uniform before marching to Taeyong.

“Yes, how may I help you?” you nicely check on his stuffs, and he looks at you with clouded eyes. Gosh how many alcohol did Jaehyun put earlier? Is Taeyong this light headed?

“I- I want some snacks.” He looks at you with “that" gaze.

You gulp “Oh right, I can do that. We have-" you almost recite him the snack options before he pulls you onto his lap and snakes his arm around your waist.

“Not that snack, come on I know you know it.” He boldly presses his nose on your neck taking a whiff of your scent

You shiver and breathily moan “Sorry sir, I'm on duty.” You remind him but your hands are already touching his hard abs and thigh

Taeyong giggles next to your ear “On duty? baby I saw you flirting with that bartender guy right there. Didn’t you promise me you'll serve me well tonight?” his tone sounds sad at the end and you never like to hear someone sad because of you, so you quickly look around and whisper back to him

“I- I am-" you stutter when he runs his hand closer to your core “You're what princess?” he grins smugly

He sure is drunk. But he's super hot and you're super aroused!

“I am Sorry sir,” you whisper and he smiles with satisfaction.

“Good girl, now after dinner when the bed time is near, I'll ask you to prepare for my room and princess, be ready." He presses a small kiss on your nape and you gasp. Taeyong quickly presses his hand over your lips “uh oh we don’t want to get in touble right?”

You nod and when he taps you back, you get up and return to work like nothing happens.

Dinner is served and you notice the first class passengers are just few tonight. Only Taeyong and three other people. You notice Taeyong's bed is also far from the other's rooms.

He requested for a glass of red wine on dinner and when you collect his plates, you notice he finishes all of it. Wow, just how drunk is he planning to be?

**

“Baby, just remember you owe me one fun night,” Jaehyun whispers next to you when he sees you fix your face and tidy your appearance.

You roll your eyes “You look more interested into him, do you want to join us?” you tease him

Jaehyun turns red and he growls “Baby, try to remember all the wrongs you make today. We'll see if you can get as much spanks as your faults, daddy will reminds his baby about her attitudes.” He palms your breast and you clasp your mouth when you see the light for your duty lights up.

“Duty calls, gotta go-" you lean next to his ears “Daddy,” you kiss him quick and walk to Taeyong.

“Evening sir, tired already? Do you want me to prepare your bed?” You ask the standard procedure and he nods.

“Alright let me take you there, master.” You whisper before kissing him quick and following him to his cubicle.

“You're such a good kitten aren’t you? So ready for your master.” He grins when he sees the small bedroom already tidied up and shone in dim lights.

He goes into the room and after making sure no one sees, you enter and lock the door.

“I am glad I got to do this in first class, not in the lavatory.” Taeyong sounds drunk and confused to which you mentally slap yourself.

“Whoops sorry, ruined the mood. Come here kitty, master can show you how great he is when powered with wine!” he unbottons his shirt and you climb to his lap

“Tell me sir, do you want the soft kitty or bad kitty?” your fingers already play with his hairs and you lightly grind on his lap.

He groans when you touch his hardness and from his hooded eyes he makes his request “Both kitty, both.”

“Greedy, but as you wish master. Your words are my command.” You tie your hair up before diving to a deep desperate kiss with both of your hands roaming wildly around each others curves.

Your breathy moans could be heard if anyone is standing right in front of the door, you don’t mind it though. The room is locked, Taeyong rocks you so well and he is wild on bed. It's like having the best wildest fever dream and you're reaching cloud nine on a plane!

He was a great man in bed, a great master who puts you back in place and a great one to teach your soft side more about the wild fun.

You slip out of his hug when you notice he'd fallen asleep. Gently you tuck back your heels and uniform. Your under garments are broken but you'll skip them

With one sticky post it left on the bedside and a kiss, you slowly creep out from his room to meet your cabin crew.

“last night you were both wild and loud.” Jaehyun already greets you on the bar and you pause in track

“You were eavesdropping?” you turn to look at him

He shrugs his shoulder “Someone ordered a drink, I happened to pass by you and your master.” He playfully scans your body.

“Where did your bra go baby?” He walks closer to you and calmly pulls your chin up to face him.

“Look at daddy when you want to answer.” He warns you when you're about to answer.

Your eyes shake as you lock eyes with his fiery one.

“Broken, i'll change into another pair.” You gulp suddenly feeling small and vulnerable to Jaehyun.

“Don’t bother wearing one. I want to see them suffer in cold.” Jaehyun flicks one of your nub and you shudder

“Yes daddy.” You gulp “Anything else?”

“Oh, no touching yourself until I got to be the one touching you. Also, once we land… you're taking a room with me.” He takes your neck and pulls you into his chest “I want all of his traces gone by the time we're together.” He growls next to your ear “Understand baby?”

You nod “Words" he coughs and you mumble “Yes daddy.”

“Good, now don’t forget all the things you did and good luck finishing your errands.” He pats your ass and pushes you lightly.

--

“Good morning sir, how's your sleep last night?” you go back to your daily routine like nothing happened last night.

Taeyong looks sober already and his stomach is rumbling “Good. I had a good sleep, lucky me for I have to catch up a runway this afternoon.”

You nod “Coffee or tea for breakfast?”

He smiles “Coffee, without alcohol okay" he winks and you smile “Alright one coffee coming to you along with your breakfast sir.”

He turns red “calling me sir just makes me turns hot again princess.”

You wink “I'll be right back sir.”

:”Wait!” he holds your hand and you pause in track “Here take this,” he fishes something out of his bag and hands you a nice invitation

“Come to the gala, walk to the backstage pass and meet me for your dress.” He puts on his sunglasses

“I am invited? Well thank you sir, it's such an honor.” You smile widely

He shakes his head and peeks from his shades “Invited? You're my guest of honor. You'll walk the runway!”

You stare at him in disbelief and he quickly taps your arm “Now go princess, prepare me your best breakfast and i'll see you later.”

Oh yeah this will be the greatest experience and oh no tomorrow is gonna be the longest night with Jaehyun.

end, yow any great smut writers if you see this and want to  make the hot scene TAG ME I WANNA READ :D thanks!!

[botwstoriesandsuch]

An Enjoyable Evening Part 3 of 3 The Legend of Zelda: Breath of The Wild Revali x Reader

Hello! This is actually my first time requesting on Tumblr May I request a Revali x Reader? I really liked the last one you did and I was wondering if you could do a continuation of that oneshot. I'm curious of how the party will turn out. Will the other Champions be suprised that Revali bought a "date?" :0 

Here’s the final part to the series! Sorry if the ending is rushed, enjoy!

Also yes, this was reposted, because I was trying to edit a typo on my phone and I accidentally deleted the entire thing...good job me!

It was around 9pm when the two of you landed at the castle grounds. The towering stone walls of the castle were in stark contrast with the tranquil view of nature you had witnessed in the sky not an hour earlier. Revali was leading you through a stone path. Ahead you could see a silver gazebo, with cream colored lanterns illuminated the surroundings, basking nobles and servants alike with light. Figures of blue, gold, black, and red drifted and danced through grass. While most seemed to be Hylian, there were also Zora, Sheikah, and other races in the mix. The night air was now cool, winds only strong enough to barely sway the lanterns. You walked behind the Rito as a guard approached the two of you.

“Ah, Master Revali. We thank you for your presence tonight.” He gave a polite bow. His deep blue outfit, adorned with silver trimming and gold tassels, gave an aura of authority.  “The Princess and the other Champions are here, shall I show you to them?”

“No, I don’t need an escort, thank you. I have the gift of sight so I’m sure I’ll manage fine.”

“Alright then, how about you lover here?”

“My wha-”

You both suddenly tensed. Revali’s feathers poofed up. You shuffled to the side and put some distance between you and Revali. The two of you started speaking rapidly over each other.

“Oh no, he’s not my— ”

“Uh, no. That’s not. they didn’t actually want to be here—”

“He’s incredibly annoying, and we hate each oth—” 

“I mean, me, with a Hylian, *cough* obviously I w—”

“Well I don’t hate him, I’m just not, er—”

“Who would surround themselves with such a rude, and intelligent, b-but mostly rude—”

“—um, the point it”

“We’re just friends.” You both finally sputtered out in unison. When you went to look at Revali, your eyes met, and you both quickly turned away. Your cheeks were on fire. WHY? Why were they on fire???? The guard stood there with a raised eyebrow, staring at you both blankly.

“…OK then.” An awkward silence. “So, do you want me to—”

“We’ll just be on our way then!”

Revali quickly grabbed your hand before pulling you away towards the courtyard. You moved past the guard with steps, wanting to leave behind the embarrassing scene as fast as possible. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to take your mind off it as when you approached the rest of the party, delicious smells filling the air. 

You stopped in your tracks, taking in the full picture. Tables were lined up on the side, cloaked in white cloth. On them, sat plates and plates and plates of food, more than you had ever seen in your life! There was meat and sauce and fish and steamed vegetables. Cakes and sweets and stews and rice. And in the center of it all sat a tower of exotic fruits, filled to the brim with apples, berries, hydromelons, bananas, and palm fruit. Sweet and savory aromas filled the air, not clashing, but blending into indescribable sensations that allowed you to taste everything before you could even touch it. 

You then noticed Revali staring, how long had he been observing you?.

“What?”

“Why are you smiling so much? I thought the sight of such a large gathering might intimidate you.”

“Oh it does, but the food! Can you smell all that?? The food! It smells so good here…”

“Yes, well you see at parties, typically people attempt to enjoy themselves by eating edible foods, rather than five-day-old honeyed candies that you store away in a desk for when you stay up all night.”

You ignored his comment. “I’m going to the buffet.”

“Woah-woah, wait. We had a deal didn’t we? I’m sure you’ll still have ti—”

“A-shh-shh-shh-shh-shh!” You held a finger up to his face. “Hold your beak giant cucco, it’ll be just for a minute. I’ll come back if some boring noble attempts to bend your ear. Besides,” You gestured towards a Goron, Gerudo, and Zora, all adorned with bright blue garments. They were looking at Revali with curious expressions, seemingly wanting to approach . “It seems there are people here who have made the mistake of wanting to talk with you. I wouldn’t want to intrude on such a rare occurrence.”

Before he had a chance to object, you raced off towards the buffet.

… . .

“So, who was that?”

Revali sighed. “Just some scientist that desperately wanted to attend this event. So I did them a favor, considering I am known for my boundless generosity. It really doesn’t concern you, Urbosa.” 

“OH-HO! You have a DATE, Revali?!?” Daruk slapped him across the back, playfully. Revali stumbled forward, nearly tripping over himself.

“AGH! Would you— ugh, first off,” he turned to face Urbosa, Daruk, and Mipha, “their name is [Name], and as I just stated, they’re not a date. If anything, we’re enemies, I don’t like them, we hate each other.” Mipha tilted her head askew. Urbosa cocked an eyebrow. “Secondly, [she’s/he’s] incredibly boring. Don’t bother asking them questions about me, or them, or how they got here, or how we met, anything that might cause unnecessary embarrassment between the two of you. As I said, they’re not that interesting, so I’ll be taking the burden of speaking with them throughout the night. Understand?

“Thirdly,” Revali glared at Daruk, “I would appreciate it if you didn’t bellow out things like that in the future. I’m sure [Name] wouldn’t appreciate you acting out so brashly during the night.”

“Aw,” Urbosa cooed, “Is Revali afraid we’ll scare away his date?”

Daruk gave out a mighty laugh, accompanied by Mipha’s giggling. Revali then shot daggers at Urbosa.

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“Yes I know, that’s why we laughed.” Urbosa gave out a smirk. Mipha started to snicker.

“Look little Rito,” Daruk moved closer, attempting to give a more gentle pat on his back. “I’m sure your buddy there is really great.”

“Did you say, little?”

“It’s nice to see you making new friends! Better than you being cooped up at the flight range every day, right? None of us are judging you here, we’re happy for you! I’m sure [Name] is a great, poised, confident, and respectable Hylian.”

CRASH!

The four Champions, along with the other startled guests, suddenly turned towards the buffet table where the noise originated from. The once towering fruit pile now sat collapsed in the dirt. The table it rested on was now a mess of colorful juices and littered utensils. Beside the scene, stood you, arms full of exotic fruits. Revali sighed, then chuckled to himself.

“Well, you never fail to make things more interesting, huh?”

He stared at the scene as he watched servants come rushing in to attend to the situation. “Definitely more exciting than spending anymore time praising that pesky knight.”  After a moment, Revali turned back to the others. His eyes narrowed.

“Where is Link anyway?”

… . .

You were shuffling between the servants, desperately trying to apologize for the mess you made.

“I am so, so sorry! I was just trying to move a random durian, and the whole thing just fell, I’m so sorry. The structure of the tower was off anyway, maybe you should add a frame behind it or something…without any infrastructure it was bound to fall sooner or later, it’s as tall as a Vah Naboris…n-not that I’m trying to blame this on you! It’s my fault, obviously, just, you know, it could have been prevented if the fancy lords and ladies put a bit more effort into public safety rather than grandiose gestures…but again, I’m really, really sorry.”

The servant waved you off bluntly, as if to say “it’s fine.” You attempted to spout out more words, in your ever expanding internal conflict of apologizing sincerely, but not sucking up to the noble guests who were eyeing you with distaste. However, you comically slipped on a banana peel.

“Wha—OH SH-”

The world tilted, as just as you were sure you were able to eat dirt, someone caught you. You staggered onto your feet and turned around.

“That was close. Thank you so much…” your eyes suddenly widened, “Master Link?”

Link shook his head and waved his arms. It’s not a problem, he seemed to say. You stood there blankly. You had heard about the Champion Link. Supposedly he rarely spoke, only in instances when it was necessary, or if he couldn’t communicate with his body language. He was wearing his bright blue tunic, the same shade as Revali’s scarf, and it was outlined with pearl white designs, spiraling down his chest in the shape of the Master Sword.

He then started moving his hands, around. His fingers danced through the air, leaving you a bit confused, before it hit you. Oh! He’s using Hylian sign-language. Really committed to keeping silent, then. You asked him to repeat the motions before you understood.

Can you understand?

“Yeah, I learned Hylian sign in college.”

That’s good. Not many know it now-a-days. Are you all right?

“Nearly fell flat on my butt, but I’m fine now, thanks to you.”

Is your name [Name]?

“…yes, how did you know?”

Revali used to talk about you a lot.

You gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Oh really? That’s…nice.” You moved your fingers through your hair in an attempt to give your hands something to do. “Master Link is rather blunt, isn’t he?” You thought.

You know, in Rito culture, they typically trade their feathers to show affection. 

“What?”

“AH! Would you look who it is, the knight of the hour!”

Revali appeared behind you, but was looking at Link with a stern expression. 

“Happy anniversary of pulling out the Master Sword. I hope you’re enjoying yourself, considering the King and Princess insisted on celebrating with all the useless pomp and grandeur, we could muster.” 

Link just started blankly. Then, after a moment he just gave a thumbs-up.

“Well, there’s no need to irk [Name] or I with your presence any longer. I’m sure there are a variety of other guests that would trip over themselves for a word or two with you. No point in talking any further with [Name], so why don’t you start intruding on the other guests’ conversations.”

The knight looked between the two of you, still standing quietly, a confused expression just barely creeping onto his face. Then, he snuck a quick smirk your way, whatever that meant.

“Flap to it then!”

Link moved his shoulders up and down, shrugging. He waved to you before moving back towards the crowds. You glanced at Revali. 

“The hell was that?”

“Come with me, I’ll help get you cleaned up.”

… . .

You stood in the gazebo, its marble structure glistening around you, as if it brought the stars themselves down to sit on the grass. 

“And here I thought I was special”

“What?”

“Back there with Link? Well, it’s nice to know I’m not the only person in your life that you’re so rude too.”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, you’re the one who startled the guests and tainted the party’s entire mood by wreaking havoc on these innocent fruits.” He picked off a piece of apple out of your hair. “Now your whole look is ruined.”

You shrugged. “Can’t go anywhere but up from here, right? Look on the bright side, the conversation tonight might start focusing on the clumsy, idiot scientist rather than the ‘little knight’ or the other Champions.” 

Revali shook his head, a typical smirk on his face. “Shut up so I can actually make you look presentable. Here.”

He took something out of the pouch by his side. A cleaned, silver quill, more specifically, your quill. Before you had the chance to question him. He plucked a few of the loose feathers on his wing. He then wrapped them around the quill and presented it to you.

“Deep, navy blue, like a setting starry sky, pairs well with the silver, no?”

“Right. And I should care…because?”

He sighed. “Well, a crimson tunic wouldn’t be my first choice of pairing,” Revali set the weave of feathers behind your ear and through your hair, “but it looks good enough on you.”

You brushed the feathers behind your ear. They were soft, the edges bending ever so slightly in the calm breeze. Suddenly, the realization hit you as you remembered Link’s words, or hand gestures. Immediately, your face suddenly became flustered, cheeks starting to pink from blushing.

“Uh, so Revali?”

“Yes?”

“About my quills, uh,” your voice was resigned, almost meek, “my quills, they’re probably the closest thing I have to feathers, right?”

“Well, I suppose—”

“Kinda funny how we’ve been trading them around, huh?”

Now it was Revali’s turn to get flustered. His feathers were poofing up, once again. The gazebo was silent was silent for a few moments as you both looked into each other’s eyes.

“So, you know? When did you find out about the tradition?”

“Like 15 minutes ago.”

“Huh.”

The air was still once more. For an eternity, you watched the sky. The same sky that Revali had flown through, as he showed off his grand entrances and moves, the same sky that you had seen as as you drifted above the world. And now, it was the same sky, that you both looked at together. At just the right angle, you could look past the stone walls and gaze at the fields of Hyrule. Looking towards the eastern most part, you could see crimson hues just starting to rise. It was late, or perhaps it was very early? It didn’t matter, because despite this, the stars continued to wink in the west. They were perched on a canopy of ink, strokes of indigo were painted underneath as the stars glistened above both you and Revali’s reach. Finally, he broke the silence.

“[Name],” Revali stood up, pacing around the gazebo, “look, I think you’re incredibly smart and sharp tongued and attractive and charming, and an all around brilliant person. Sometimes, I’d be annoyed by you’re stupidly blunt comments, and other times I can’t get enough of our idiotic banter. For the longest time, I couldn’t fathom why I was always looking forward to our next meeting. It took me a humiliating amount of time to come to the simple conclusion that…I enjoyed spending time with you.” He paused and turned his head back at you. “And I want to do it more often…”

You sat there, smiling. Look at feather face over here, pouring his heart out. You couldn’t hide the blushing on your cheeks. Your fingers continued to graze the feathers in your hair. However, Revali seemed to take your silence the wrong way

“U-unless of course you don’t feel the same way!” Revali started sputtering out nonsense. “Wait, wait, this was a joke! My acting skills are quite convincing, I know. Obviously, you prefer to keep stay friends, right? I mean, platonic friendships are just as strong. Anyone would be lucky to simple be good friends with me anyway, It—”

“Ok, now’s the part where you shut up.”

“—and I would, wait what?”

You got up, and pecked a kiss on the tip of Revali’s beak.

“I said, now’s the part where you shut up”

[nautiscarader]

Billythesquid here. I should probably type it up myself instead of farming it out, but: "The Princess Commands". Adventure Time: Finn, Bubblegum, Marceline, and Huntress Wizard play a party game where they draw cards. One is the princess, the others get a random card 1-3. Princess orders a number or multiple numbers to do something, the one holding the number must obey. Every round they re-shuffle.

Holy smokes, this one took me a while to plan out. But it was also the most enticing of prompts, I hope you will find it to your liking.

Finn/Harem, very much E

(Ao3)

- I have never heard about this game! - Finn exclaimed, eagerly sitting around the table. - Neither have I. - Huntress added, taking a seat next to his boyfriend. - That's because I've just invented it. - Princess Bubblegum explained from opposite him. - You're gonna love it... - Marceline winked at their guests, making them exchange curious looks.

Princess Bubblegum was known to hold opulent, extravagant parties, but she equally often threw smaller ones, just for her very close circle of friends. And with what she had on her mind, they definitely wanted to test it on a small sample. She waited until Peppermint Butler brought them their drinks, taking her time to fill it it with a casual small-talk, and only when he left the chambers, she continued.

- The game is called "The Princess Commands". There are four cards, and only one is labelled "The Princess".

She showed the card with a golden crown, and continued shuffling.

- The other three have numbers on them...

Bonnie took the other three cards and expertly formed a small fan from them, showing them in order.

- Whoever is "the princess", tells the other three to do something. - Bubblegum looked at her friends - And they have to obey. - Wow, pretty mathematical! - Finn raised his eyebrows. - But when you said "obey", did you mean... - Huntress wizard spoke, before Bubblegum sharply interrupted her - I meant exactly what I said. - she spoke coldly - That person has to perform whatever action the "princess" demands.

Huntress and Finn exchanged nervous looks, before looking at Marceline, who so far has been sitting - or rather levitating - in silence.

- Meh, pretty standard for Bonnie, honestly - she shrugged - I'm game. And you?

  The couple looked at each other and then nodded at once, bringing a wide smile to Bubblegum's face.

- Excellent! - she clapped - I'll deal the cards first... - Why you? - Marceline protested - I'm gonna bet she will end up a princess. - Ruhe! - Princess Bubblegum ordered and tossed the four cards to each side of the table.

Each of the players reached for their card, eyed one another, and with knowing looks they turned towards Bubblegum.

- Oh, wow, what a surprise! - she threw a pretence giggle, showing them her princess card. - I guess I am worthy of the crown. - She does that all the time... - Marceline leaned against Finn and whispered. - Okay! - she interrupted - My first order as the princess is for number one to...

She cleared her throat, eyed the players and spoke again.

- ...to stand on their arms!

Eagerly, Finn leapt to his feet, and with a single jump his world turned upside down, much to the princess' enjoyment. For a moment, he couldn't see the reaction of the three girls, as his shirt sropped onto his eyes, but with a bit of acrobatic moves, he managed to peek from underneath it.

- Bravo! - she clapped - And now, number two has to... say a limerick!

Marceline snickered, watching as Huntress rolls her eyes.

- There... once was a dog named Jake, who fell into a great big lake. He swam back and forth, proving his worth, just so he can eat the cake. - Utterly nonsensical, but it fits a definition of a limerick nonetheless. - Princess Bubblegum addressed her. - Uh, PB? - Finn asked - How long will I have to stand like that? - Until I say so. - she replied sharply - And now, number three...

She looked at Marceline, slowly turning around in the air, assuming a position similar to Finn's.

- ...has to kiss me. - Here we go.

Marceline dived underneath the table and emerged effortlessly in front of Bubblegum, sliding into her arms, before they closed behind her back, and their lips met. A soft "thud" filled the room when Finn fell to his back, desperate to see the make-out session properly and not in his inverted vision.

- I think the demand was to "kiss" and not to "eat each other's face"... - Huntress pointed out, and it took Bonnie a while to reply to this issue with a decisive blowing of a raspberry.

PB's hands gladly wandered Marcy's back, until they slipped to her jeans, and only then Bonnie remembered they were just on round one.

- Okay, new game! - she exclaimed, taking a hefty gulp of her drink after Marcy sucked a little bit of colour from her face.

Huntress took the cards and shuffled them, though less neatly than PB. Four players received the cards, and they didn't have to wait too long to wait for "the princess" to emerge.

- Wow! I'm in charge now! - Finn exclaimed. - So I get to tell anyone what to do? - Genau. - PB nodded. - Remember, Finn, you can order us to do anything.

Finn looked at the three girls eyeing him with intense stares, and finally, when he spotted a flirtatious spark in Huntress eyes, he got the message she was trying to send to him.

- I know what to do... - he smirked - Arm-wrestling contest!

Silence fell across the table, as the three exchanged confused looks.

- Wait, what- - Seriously...? - Marceline burst into laughter, finishing Bubblegum's thoughts. - What? - Finn asked - I want to know which of you is the strongest. I mean, I'm gonna root for HW, fo course, but...

Bubblegum let out a deep sigh and slammed her arm against the table.

- Okay, let's do it.

There was no contest here; Huntress easily defeated both Princess Bubblegum and Marceline, even despite the latter's vampiric powers. Princess Bubblegum turned out to be a double loser, when Marceline not only defeated her, but tossed her into the air with her strong grip.  

- Well, that was... unusual. - PB gasped, landing in Marceline's arms. - Okay, now Finn, your turn to deal.

A quick shuffle later, four cards were dealt again, though unlike his predecessors, Finn simply gave each of the ladies their cards, instead of tossing them across the table, croupier-style. And once again, Bonnie's face brightened when she looked at her card.

- Right, back to me! - she eyed her friends - Let's make it a bit more interesting... Finn, I want you to take off your clothes. - Wait, what? - Finn nearly choked on his juice when he heard her words.

Suddenly, the hero of Ooo felt the heavy stare of the three ladies in the room, and just when he was about to protest, Huntress repeated Bonnie's command.

- You heard what Princess had to say. - a soft smile appeared on her face - Do you want me to help you? - I... uh... - he stuttered. - Excellent initiative. - PB interrupted - Huntress, you help him. - As you wish, my princess.

Hearing the unnaturally obedient tone of her voice, Finn has taken a step back, before Huntress' delicate touch calmed him down, followed by even more soothing kiss. Her hands sneaked around his body, and soon the other two girls in the room could marvel at Finn's long golden hair, his skinny, but sill muscular chest, and then, the two eagerly waited for Huntress to finish disrobing her boyfriend.

And she did that in the most alluring way possible: Wizard got to her knees, blocking the two the view they desired, letting her be the first one to see Finn's naked body, and only Finn's broken voice told the two that Huntress might have done something else when she was down there, something that allowed them to see Finn in his most presentable state, when she moved to the side.

Marceline and Princess Bubblegum let out a murmurs of delight when Finn's naked physique was presented to them, and they couldn't help but giggle at his blush and his desperation to hide his impressive manhood, standing proudly erect in front of them.

- Excellent... - Bonnie spoke - Now, Marcy, do the same to Huntress. - Wait, what?

Huntress mimicked Finn's confused tone, and in a split of a second her confidence was gone, replaced by confusion. But that moment of deconcentration was just enough for the shadow of Marceline to swoop over Huntress and engulf her in darkness, only to emerge with her clothes in her hands.

The same blush from Finn's face now appeared on Huntress', as she found herself standing naked in the middle of the room, once again judged by the two girlfriends, as well as even more perplexed Finn, who never thought he would be able to see her naked body with other people around. His girlfriend eyed him with equal embarrassment, though as her stare moved from his face to his crotch, a soft smile crept onto her face, replacing the flummoxed expression Marceline's disrobing brought onto her.

- Marcy, it's your turn. - Bubblegum ordered, as if nothing happened

Huntress and Finn sat back around the table, glancing at each other's naked bodies every few seconds, unable to concentrate on anything else. Marceline dealt the cards, and for the first time, Bubblegum appeared to be surprised by the results of the shuffle, eyeing her girlfriend with a cold stare.

- Well, looks like I am the princess now. - Marceline smirked. - And my first decree is... for PB to get naked too. - Marceline, that is not what we- - Oh really, you thought I'm gonna keep playing the game of yours without messing with it? - Marceline laughed - Come on, girl, that dress has to go.

Reluctantly, PB stood up and slowly undid her pink dress, letting it fall to the ground, much to Marceline and Finn's delight. The latter had to actively prevent himself from looking to excited, but when he spotted Huntress eyeing PB's naked butt as well, he felt he doesn't have to pretend he is oblivious to PB's beauty.

Of course Marceline was getting the most of Bonnie's striptease; the vampire queen flowed around her, looking at every corner of her body with fewer and fewer clothes covering her, until the ruler of te Candy kingdom was as naked as the other two people around the table.

- Happy now? - Oh yes, I am... - Marceline licked her lips. - Now... as for you two...

She turned around mid-air and flown towards Finn and Huntress Wizard.

- I definitely want to what you two are doing in that jungle house of yours when no one is looking.

Huntress and Finn looked at each other, and as their eyes moved to Princess Bubblegum, it became clear that at least some part of her plan has been restored.

- Come on, you've heard the princess... - PB crossed her arms and looked at the two lovers with a smirk on her face.

Still somewhat reluctant by their states, Huntress was the first to adhere to princess' orders and stood up, presenting her naked body to Marceline, PB and Finn, before she saton the table and spread her legs, watching as his eyes widen with each second of her erotic show.

- Well, Finn, let's show them what they are missing...

Her warm smile was enough for Finn to gain a new dose of confidence and dive between her legs. Huntress yelped and threw her head back when Finn's lips touched her wet sex. he could already smell her enticing aroma before, but only now, when his face was pressed against her folds, he could see the source of it. The translucent, sap-like juices oozed from her opening, awakening a very primal instinct in his mind, and in his hungry state, Finn could only lick, desperate to leave her dry, despite the fact that more and more of her sweetness was overflowing his mouth.

With a strong grip of his hands around her thighs, Huntress was flailing in the middle of the royal room, watched by the other two ladies, and though her vision was somewhat blurry and hazed, Huntress definitely saw the pink and blue figures against each other, before the familiar sound of lips smacking reached her from the side.

- Oh, by the way, there is a new turn and PB is a princess again, and she told me to get into her laps - Marceline added, before she let out a moan as well, when PB sneaked her hand into her jeans. - What a surpr-ISE! - Huntress voice cracked when the first wave of her orgasm appeared on the horizon.

Finn brought not only his lips and tongue, but his fingers as well, the combination of real and metallic ones giving enough contrast and variety in temperature and texture of his caresses to make Huntress flail with pleasure. And it surprised no one when she let out a roar, mimicking some animal's mating call when she climaxed, giving Finn another dose of her fluids to take care of, which he gladly did, once she stopped thrashing against his face.

Their eyes met, and they both saw their reddened faces, brimming with ecstasy, before Princess Bubblegum's voice reached them.

- That-that was fine and all, but... not e-exactly what I was talking about... - Bubblegum mumbled through Marcy's caresses, who evidently took a page from Finn's book and sneaked her long tongue into PB's candy folds, lapping at her carmel - Huntress, I order you to give Finn your potion.

At once, the smile vanished from Huntress' face when she realised what PB was talking about.

- Wait, how- - You gave me a sample, didn't you? - she answered at once - And I'd be surprised if you didn't carry a vial with you just in case you get bored...

Huntress swallowed loudly, watching as PB's face fills with a sly smirk just before it transforms into a sardonic, twisted one when Marceline brought her to a brink of her own climax. She cursed under her breath and reached to the stack of clothes Marceline took from her, producing a vial from her satchel.

- Well, you were right... - she looked at PB, this time with a faint smile - I do carry it with me on our dates...

She took Finn's juice, poured a few drops into it, and gave it to him, seeing the understandable anxiety in his eyes.

- HW, do you think... - It's the princess' orders, Finn. - she smiled - Drink up.

Finn gulped, and when he brought the elixir to his lips, the three women in the room waited patiently for its effect. And they knew exactly when the potent aphrodisiac started working.

- Uh, you know, girls, I think I wasted my arm-wrestling command with you... - Understatement of the century - Bubblegum spoke, cleaning Marceline's face from her juices with her own lips. - Finn, as the princess I command you to take each of us!

As if his growling voice wasn't enough, when Finn leapt to his feet, PB and Marceline were once again blessed by the sight of his manhood, now pulsing with the magic that was spreading through his veins. Despite his skinny physique, Finn easily grabbed the three girls and brought them to his lips, one at a time, exchanging quick, ravenous kisses with each, while their hands battled to take place on his cock, just in case there was a fear of him going limp anywhere in the next four hours or so.

Just like the cards on the table, he placed the three naked girls next to each other and looked at their exposed pussies, oozing with their welcoming juices.

- Alright, who's gonna be first...? - he asked with a tone of dominance in his slightly husky voice, before PB replied at once. - I command Finn to choose Huntress to be your first, seems appropriate.

Huntress Wizard nodded and just like before yelped when Finn took the initiative, though with nothing subtle or delicate about it. He rammed himself inside her folds, that has managed to already soaked up from his lengthy cunnilingus, and let him reach her depths without any troubles. This time, However, Huntress had two other girls to help her combat the waves of pleasure that raged through he body. Time after time, with each thrust of Finn's powerful body she found solace in PB's or Marceline's arms, especially when their fingers brought much needed finesse to the rutting session she was experiencing.

And just when she was about to explode again, Finn shuffled his lovers and Huntress felt the pang of his absence just before Marceline yelped when he filled her pussy. Repaying for her previous work, Huntress kissed Marceline, letting her moan seep into her mouth, while PB continued her fingerwork between their three bodies, mashed against each other, bouncing in sync with Finn's moves. But soon she became the center of attention when Finn took her, ending the permutation, while his other two lovers eagerly lapped at PB's sugary mounds.

Effortlessly, Finn kept switching between the three ladies, moaning their praises towards him into each other bodies, giving them each a few minutes with his manhood, before even in his pumped-up state had to admit defeat.

- Gi-Girls! - he moaned, keeping a strong grip on thighs, though he wasn't sure whose - I'm clo-close! - Finish inside her! - PB suddenly yelped, pushing herself and Marcy to the side, revealing Huntress Wizard in between the two.

Huntress's eyes opened wide and she frantically looked between Finn and PB, exchanging knowing stares with the host of their party. She knew, she must have known... And it was Marceline that saved her the trouble.

- Wait, PB, you already gave her the command this turn. - Marceline swooped over her, yanked the princess card from her hand and handed it to Huntress - I think she should have a say in this, don't you think? - Y-yeah, cos- isn't-isn't it dangerous? - Finn gasped, unable to stop his frantic thrusts.

Finn looked at his girlfriend, and saw how the fear in her eyes turns into a ravenous, lusty fire he has seen before.

- Come inside, Finn. The princess commands you.

Her legs crossed behind his back, locking him in his position, and just before he was gonna say something, Huntress' lips were pushed against his, silencing any worries he might have had, as well as giving her the chance to moan into his mouth, while his hips bucked into her for the last few times. Her toes curled, and she instinctively raised her hips when the first stream of his cum flooded her, followed by a few hefty more that soon overflowed her pussy.

The two lovers bucked in unison for a solid minute or two, before Finn's powerful orgasm subsided, and the hero of Ooo could look into his lover's eyes, now joined by two more pairs, looking equally satisfied at what has happened in front of them.

- You guys have been together for such a long time, we thought we could speed things up a bit. - Princess Bubblegum admitted, dragging her finger across Huntress' belly, perhaps just to feel Finn's cock pulsing inside her. - Yeah, you know Bonnie, she kinda has a thing for having those master plans of her... - Marceline added from the side. - Well... let me make some plan of my own...

Huntress huffed and sat in place, gently pushing Finn away from her, though not before giving him a fiery kiss. She pointed at Bubblegum and with a commanding tone she spoke.

- On your knees, Bonnie. And you, Finn, I think we need to punish that smart-mouth for tricking us... - Ah-ah! One command per turn! - PB protested, but the card was already flying to Marceline, who gladly continued Huntress' orders. She flew towards PB and kept her in place, while she commanded Finn. - Finn, fuck her face.

Princess Bubblegum took one more breath before her sense of smell and taste was overwhelmed by the aggressive, musky aroma of Finn's masculinity, filling her to the brim, just like it did a few minutes before in her pussy. tasting the sweet juices of Huntress on her lips as well, which made the torture a bit more pleasant. Huntress was watching as the scene unfolded from the side, recuperating after her climax, while Finn's previous orgasm seeped from her used opening. And PB had to say that she looked utmost content, probably not just from the mating session she was put into.

Suddenly, Finn grabbed the back of her head, and if PB thought he has reached deep into her mouth, she was wrong, as her neck suddenly bulged when Finn's cock reached her throat while he continued face-fucking her. His blonde pubic hair filled her vision, and her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head, when she heard the familiar grunts coming from above and knew her punishment would be over soon.

- You know what to do, Finn? - Marceline asked, but it was Finn's quick answer that alerted PB. - Oh yeah!

As quickly as he rammed himself inside her mouth, Finn pulled out his magically enhanced cock and when Pb looked at it, she suddenly realised what was going to happen.

- Oh, glob.

The same hefty stream of cum that flooded Huntress womb now gushed against her face, covering it thoroughly with a single dose, meaning that each subsequent one would simply drip to her naked chest. And the aphrodisiac Bonnie made Finn take turned out to be a double-edged sword, since despite his recent climax, Finn had no problems firing several more ropes onto the princess, until very little of her pink could be seen.

- Al-Alright, I get the point, I sh-shouldn't have tricked you... - Bonniebel spoke with annoyance in her voice, as she admitted her wrongdoings - Marcy, can you pass me- - Woah, woah! - Marceline suddenly interrupted her - I am still in command, Bonnie! - Come on... - PB spoke, feeling ashamed every second. - Don't worry, it's just one last command. - Marceline spoke - I command you to... give a speech to your people from the balcony. - WHAT?!

Though her vision was obscured by the layer of cum, she undeniably heard two people high-fiving each other, and she suspected who were they.

- Come on, PB, you made the rules... - Huntress spoke in a sing-song voice, while a breath of fresh air reached her back. - No worries, PB, there's almost no one down there... - Marceline helped her stand up - Almost no one...

With her legs trembling, Bonnie stepped onto her royal balcony and saw, just like Marceline told her, that the square underneath was mostly empty, aside from a few Banana Guards.

- Just wave and smile, that's all... - Marceline whispered into her ear, getting only a icy-cold glare in response.

And as she did so, PB realised she has gained their attention, though thankfully, from the distance they couldn't see that much.

- *Oh, hey, it's Princess Bubblegum!* - *And she's wearing whipped cream, celebrating the Banana Split day!* - shouted another guard - *We love you, princess!* - I love you too! - she replied, catching some of Finn's cum into her mouth. - Alright, the gig's up, let's end this. - As you command, *princess*... - Marceline giggled and let the princess inside, though not before she took a lick of the whipped cream.

She handed her the towel she was mentally begging for, and when PB cleaned herself up, she found Marceline and Huntress Wizard looking at her with their arms crossed. Finn, still somewhat confused by the situation that happened, kept his arms around Huntress, looking back and forth at the three naked ladies he was pleasuring.

- Okay, Bonniebell, what have we learned today? - Marceline asked.

PB rolled her eyes.

- That I shouldn't have enrolled Finn and HW into my "Heroes breeding program" without consulting them. - she spoke, making air quotes - And I definitely shouldn't expect to get some of the side benefits for myself and Marcy... - That's what you called it? - Huntress raised her brow - Are we another experiment to you? - You say that, but then out of the blue some another cosmic deity comes to Ooo and we might now have enough heroes to defend it.

PB looked at their three friends, before she let out a deep sigh.

- And... I'm sorry, I was carried way with the whole "princess commands" game.

Huntress and Finn exchanged knowing looks, before they kissed each other.

- You should have just asked, we... We were thinking about it for some time anyway. - Huntress explained - You were going to get first soldier in your army like, maybe a year later. - But you have to admit it was exciting, wasn't it? - PB asked, getting a fain laughter from Marcy. - Yeah, in the most twisted way possible only a true politician could imagine. - So... what are we gonna do now?

Marceline looked at the three, and handed Princess Bubblegum her princess card, which she ostensibly torn into pieces.

- I say that the princess is dead, it's time for some anarchy.

And with that command, the four naked, horny people leapt into each other's arms and moved their caresses to the spacious sofa, as the small table sudden;y became too small.  

[johaerys-writes]

Day 12: Watching the Sunset

For day 12 of @scharoux‘s @14daysofdalovers, featuring my OC Tristan Trevelyan and Dorian Pavus! From the as-yet-untitled Modern AU @oftachancer and I have been working on :)

**********************

The cold southern wind whistled through the narrow cobblestone streets, bringing with it smells of burning wood, damp pavement and fresh salt spray, mingled with Antivan spices from the many restaurants along the road. Dorian wrapped his coat tighter around him, shivering. He had been in Ostwick for months, and he had gotten somewhat used to the random bouts of rain, followed by bright sunlight, which was in turn followed by more drizzle. That drizzle was the worst; that slow, steady spattering, too light for an umbrella to make a difference, but that still managed to dampen his coat and the top of his head. It could go on for days- days that seemed grey and miserable and never ending, days that Dorian had become accustomed to. What he never thought he could get accustomed to was that wind. The wind that seemed to come from everywhere all at once, swirling about him, making the leaves and scattered papers on the street whirl in lazy, unfocused patterns. It froze him to the core, and made his eyes water and his lips crack, and disheveled his carefully combed waves. It irritated him to no end. How those dratted Ostwickers never seemed to mind that awful weather, and would walk about in the middle of winter with T-shirts and thin sweaters while he had to bundle up in layers and scarves was beyond him. Southerners. A bizarre lot. 

He muttered curses under his breath as he made his way to his flat, swerving past the throngs of people and laughing students. That part of the city was the busiest that time of day - the old Merchant district, that was now filled with bars and coffee shops and small restaurants, the scent of ale wafting from half open doors. Marcher ales were decent, if one liked that sort of thing. Dorian himself prefered wine, red and deliciously dry, for which the Free Marches were hardly renowned. Even so, the selection of Antivan and Orlesian wines was astounding, even in the tiniest bars. The Marchers were an odd assortment of people, that was certain, yet they seemed to know their liquor as well as any Tevinter. In that respect, Dorian had grown quite fond of the place. He wondered what else he might grow fond of, with time.

Muffled conversations and drifted from the bars and shops he passed by, and Dorian found his steps had slowed down as he glanced at the people gathered inside, chattering and laughing. He managed to spot a few familiar faces - students that showed up pale and weary at his morning lectures, dark circles under their eyes and steaming cups of strong coffee in their hands, yet were now rosy cheeked and merry under the influence of whatever brew they were sipping from tall glasses. His gaze swept over them all, never lingering on any particular one, when his steps suddenly stopped short before a small and rather dim bar, simply decorated and its chairs carefully arranged in a semi circle. The reflection on the glass window made it hard to make out details, but Dorian would recognise that hair anywhere. Light blonde, the highlights in it so pale they almost looked white, falling in soft waves around a high forehead and a sharp jaw. A strong nose, a stubborn chin, a small line in between brows furrowed in a focused frown. The soft curve of that bottom lip, curling downward, interrupted by the bite of white teeth, glistening as a rosy tongue was swept over it soon after. Glistening.

Dorian blinked, leaning forward to peer inside the bar. Yes, it was definitely him. Tristan Trevelyan. He hadn’t seen him in quite a while - not since Professor Walker had returned to the University, resuming the teaching of the Rune crafting course. Dorian didn’t miss much about teaching that course. Its preparation took up way too much of his time, time he needed for his own research, yet there was one thing in particular that he now realised he had missed. His TA meetings with the young Trevelyan had been entertaining, in a way that Dorian had never quite anticipated. Quiet and reserved most of the time, with a reticent gaze that always lit up when they talked about all the different elements of runes and their composition. Conversations about rune crafting could soon derail into deep discussions about history and philosophy, until they somehow found themselves talking about Rivain coffee and all the different reasons why it was preferable to Nevarran tea. Dorian had learned that Tristan was fond of pastries and gin, often in unusual combinations, that he disliked early mornings, that he abhorred scratchy sweaters, that he would much rather spend his summers by the beach than in the mountains. He seemed approachable, tangible, tactile, yet still so out of reach and understanding that Dorian’s thoughts couldn’t help but stretch towards him, almost obsessively. 

Without quite realising it, he pushed the door open, walking into the small bar. It hardly looked like a bar; there was no music playing from loud speakers, no overpowering smell of beer and whisky wafting off the tables. In the center of the semi circle was a small make-shift podium, where a young man was sitting on a dingy wooden chair, a book open in his hand. 

“...What is the true nature of the poet? What is the proper role of the poet in society? Is the artist a medium through which universal truths are expressed, or is art forged in the depths of the artist’s psyche, corrupted by flawed world-views and personal biases? What is the function of imagination and inspiration? Polmear begins by declaring that a poet has no self or identity. A poet, like a chameleon, absorbs the colorations of the outside world, becoming one with the things seen, heard, and touched. Poets should free themselves of their own limited experiences of the world…”

Dorian approached silently, taking a seat at the very last row, close to the door. There were only five or six people. Tristan was by himself, so far as Dorian could see, nodding absently as he listened to the man on the podium. When the man was finished, a woman was invited to the podium, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, her eyes obscured by the thick rim of her glasses. 

"How many bards gild the lapses of time! A few of them have ever been the food of my delighted fancy,—I could brood, over their beauties, earthly, or sublime: And often, when I sit me down to rhyme, these will in throngs before my mind intrude…”[1]

Others followed after her, each one with a careful selection of poems. Some of them were quite enjoyable, that even Dorian could admit, others just sounded like pompous fluff to his ears. Soon he found his mind drifting, choosing to study the young Trevelyan instead. He hadn’t noticed him, his expression dreamy as he listened, gently nodding when one by one the poems finished. 

It seemed like an eternity later that the young man from before came to the podium. “Would anyone else like to read a poem before we finish for tonight?”

“I would.”

To Dorian’s surprise, Tristan rose from his seat. He shifted awkwardly on his feet for a breath, then made his way to the center of the semi circle. He sat at the edge of the chair, clearing his throat. Long fingers brushed over the outside of a small pocket book, its yellow pages contrasting the paleness of his skin. 

“We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon; How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver, streaking the darkness radiantly—yet soon, night closes round, and they are lost for ever: or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings give various response to each varying blast, to whose frail frame no second motion brings one mood or modulation like the last. We rest.—A dream has power to poison sleep; We rise.—One wandering thought pollutes the day; We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep; Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away: It is the same!—For, be it joy or sorrow, the path of its departure still is free: Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability.”[2]

Dorian’s skin prickled as he listened to his voice, smooth and slightly nasal, the soft timbre as it deepened, his tongue delicately rolling over the vowels and the consonants. Dorian was never one for poetry, but at that moment he would gladly listen to every poem in that book of his and more, if it simply meant listening to him. 

He was startled out of his thoughts by the quiet applause that echoed across the room as the poem drew to a close, and Tristan lifted his eyes, gaze sweeping over the faces there. And saw Dorian’s. And blushed. Dorian blinked a couple times, just to make certain, yet there it was. A rosy glow, climbing from his neck to his cheeks up to his ear, behind which a pale blonde lock rested. Tristan blinked back at him, his lips twitching in something that looked like smile -was it a smile?-, then he stood up, returning to his seat without ceremony. The poetry reading was concluded not long after, and Dorian found himself standing by the door, trying to suppress the flutter in his stomach as he watched Tristan sling his backpack over his shoulder and approach him. But why in the void would he be feeling fluttery? This was just foolish. Juvenile and foolish. 

“Of all the places I expected to see you, this must have been the very last,” Dorian said with a bright smile in the best imitation of a teasing tone he could muster. 

Tristan’s smile was reserved when he came to stand before him. “Likewise.” He glanced behind his shoulder at the people leaving the cafe. “You came with someone?” 

“No. I was just passing by and decided to drop in. It looked like an intriguing little assemblage. I couldn’t well resist.”

His eyes flashed with interest as he pushed the door open, gesturing for him to walk out first. “Are you a fan of poetry, then?”

Dorian licked his lips, stepping out into the chilly evening. He gave him a quick nod, and instantly regretted it when the fellow turned to look at him in awe. “Evidently, not as big a fan as you are,” he said quickly. “Although, I have to say, this was a very interesting reading. Which poet was it you were discussing, again?”

“It wasn’t a single poet,” Tristan said simply. “It was a feature on Blessed Age Free Marcher naturalist poets.”

“Ah.” Dorian shoved his hands into his pockets, looking ahead. “I lean more towards Tevinter poetry myself.”

Tristan hummed softly at the back of his throat, his steps falling alongside his. “Don’t ask, we may not know what the gods plan for you and me. Be wise, strain clear the wine and prune the rambling vine of expectation. Life’s short. Even while we talk, Time, hateful, runs a mile. Don’t trust tomorrow’s bough for fruit. Pluck this, here, now.”[3]

Dorian blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Tristan blinked back at him, then frowned. “‘Carpe diem’. It’s one of the most well-known Tevinter poems here. I’m afraid I only know the modern translation. Did I say something wrong?” He stopped, searching Dorian’s face. Then, a small smirk curled the edges of his lips. The audacity. “You’re not a fan of poetry, are you?”

“Very well, you’ve rooted me out,” Dorian said with a soft sigh. “Poetry has never held too much interest for me, I’m afraid. Although I do see the appeal.”

Tristan’s smile widened just a hair before melting away, the tiny dimple at the corner of his mouth deepening for a blink of an eye. He walked on, his strides steady and confident, the wind blowing through his hair.  A faint scent of lavender and citrus flowers and… and something else that Dorian couldn’t put his finger on drifted towards him. He quickened his pace, catching up to him.  

“So,” he said decisively, “how are your runes?”

“They’re well. Multiplying, actually.”

Dorian huffed in amusement. “Enjoying Professor Walker’s lectures, I take it?”

Tristan shrugged. “They’re alright. She is quite knowledgeable. Although I prefer your methods.”

Dorian could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. So he prefered his methods, did he? Why did that make Dorian feel giddy like a besotted schoolgirl? And why did he suddenly feel the burning need to show him the full range of his methods, preferably while slowly peeling that snug dark blue coat off him, then that fitted black sweater that hugged the muscles of his arms, then those jeans that... 

He gave a minute shake of his head, swallowing thickly as he smiled. “I’m pleased to hear you found my method of teaching appealing, but I have you to thank for that. The lectures would have been significantly duller without your assistance.”

Tristan chuckled under his breath, that rosy blush returning to his cheeks. Or was it from the cold wind? “I doubt that. You have a way of captivating your audience.”

There it was again. That awkward little hop-scotch in his chest. “You flatter me,” he said, hoping his voice betrayed none of his emotions. 

“I’m not. I’m only stating the obvious.” 

His expression was serious, his tone as matter-of-fact as Dorian had ever heard it. “I see. Well, in any case, thank you for thinking so highly of me.”

Tristan shot him a sideways glance as he walked on, taking a step to the side to let a merry company pass them by. When they found themselves side to side again, his bottom lip was flushed, as if he had been biting it. “You’ve taught many classes before? In Tevinter?”

The mention of his country made Dorian bristle. He straightened, head held high as he walked. “I have. Quite a few different ones, in fact. I finished my doctoral thesis in only three years in Minrathous, but I assisted my mentors with many of their courses during that time.”

“Three years? That’s… bloody hell. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone finishing their PhD in less than four.” His gaze was thoughtful when it landed on Dorian. “How are you finding things here? Is Ostwick up to par?”

Dorian scoffed. “Up to par? Hardly. But I’d give them an A for effort. Or a B.” He paused for a moment, pretending to think. “An A minus?”

Tristan huffed a laugh. “Let’s settle for a B plus. That sounds fair.” Their shoulders brushed as the pavement narrowed, leading them down a small lane squeezed between two stone brick buildings. The sharp gust that blew through it smelt of sea spray and seaweed, and only then did Dorian realise that they had been walking towards the shorefront all that while. He had been so absorbed by the company of the man beside him that he hadn’t even taken a moment to think about where they were going. 

Dark grey blue waves frothed and crashed against the rocky shore as they stepped upon the wide promenade. Seagulls squawked and crooned above them, gliding with the gales to perch themselves atop the old carved railing. The sun was nearing the edge of the horizon, painting the heavy clouds in shades of gold and orange and violet. Dorian followed Tristan as he walked up to the railing, his coat stretching across his shoulders when he rested his elbows on the cold marble.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. The wind swirled about them, thick and sticky with salt, while Dorian gazed out at the stormy sea, the side of his hip touching the railing. The way Tristan seemed so focused on watching the sea stretch before them, it seemed to Dorian that he had entirely forgotten his presence. 

“Do you miss Minrathous?”

Tristan’s voice drifted along a sharp gust, mingled with the susurrus of waves, was almost drowned out by the gull’s insistent squawking, yet Dorian heard it clearly. It was the last question that Dorian had expected him to ask, even though his time with the man had shown him that nothing about him was as it seemed. The question itself was simple. The implications behind it immense. Dorian wondered whether Tristan realised that. 

He always despised that moment, the dratted moment when the matter of his heritage came up. It always did, sooner or later, no matter who he was talking to. To the people around him he must have looked odd, unusual, outlandish even. It wasn’t like he could do anything to hide it, even if he had wanted to. The Imperium had been a looming threat on the whole of Thedas for centuries, and the tales that had been woven through the people’s consciousness were of charlatanism and blind fanaticism at best, horror and despair at worst. No one was bold enough to say anything to his face, of course, but Dorian could see their reservations plainly. He could see it in their wide, friendly smiles that quivered when they were finally able to place his accent, or after he had helpfully informed them where he had learned all the “fascinating things he knew”. He could sense it in the awkwardness that followed, thick enough to be sliced through with a knife. A comment would usually ensue, something about the weather in Tevinter, where it was summer all year round, apparently, or the fine wines that surpassed Antivans in quality and lay far beyond what their meagre salaries could stretch to. Idle statements, irrelevant, inconsequential, aimed at steering the conversation carefully around the elephant in the room rather than crashing head first into it, hastily changing the subject to something else. Something safer. More acceptable. As if the very fact that he came from Tevinter was a frightful affliction, and any mention of it had to be avoided at all costs. 

Dorian held his gaze on the crashing waves and the jagged rocks below them. “Occasionally,” he replied slowly. Cautiously. He stole a sidelong glance at Tristan, waiting. Another long stretch of minutes passed before the man spoke again.

“I’ve heard it’s a wondrous place. I always longed to see it.” He paused for moment, worrying the inside of his lip. “What is it like?”

Dorian’s ears pricked up, searching for the sarcasm, the apprehension, the hidden trap. There was nothing there. It was a simple, straightforward, guileless question. He took a deep breath. “It is indeed beautiful. It is unlike any other city I’ve ever visited.”

“How so?” Tristan turned to look at him, dark blue eyes glinting with interest. Once again, not a hint of mockery in them. What an odd fellow.

“The city inner is made almost entirely of white marble,” Dorian began, forgetting his hesitancy for a moment. “The marble spires of Minrathous were once the tallest buildings in Thedas. An architectural marvel. They’re still there, most of them. There are covered walkways all throughout the center, and entire markets held in loggias. There are hidden gardens everywhere, too, carefully tucked away. One moment you could be making your way through a crowded street, and the next you could turn a corner and find yourself in an oasis, with trees and fragrant rose bushes and fountains. And the bazaars…” He paused for a moment, not quite able to stop the fond smile that widened his lips. “The bazaars of Minrathous are the finest in Thedas. Of that I can assure you. There isn’t a thing you could possibly covet that you wouldn’t be able to find there. The gemstones, the exotic foods, the trinkets, the fabrics…” Dorian let out a soft sigh. “I could go on.”

“Please do.”

Tristan had straightened and was now facing him, his eyes wide with wonder, hanging from his every word. Dorian blinked, taken aback for a moment. He didn’t quite know what he had expected when he started talking, yet it certainly wasn’t it. He had been fairly certain that the younger man had only asked about his homeland out of courtesy, that he probably didn’t care a fig, yet here he was. Reciting Tevinter poetry, listening intently while Dorian spoke, eagerly awaiting more. Who was he, then? Where had he come from?

Dorian looked away, a breathless laugh escaping him. “Perhaps I should show you some pictures. I doubt anything I could say would do it justice.”

A smile, warm and slow spreading, blossomed on Tristan’s face. “I’d love that.” 

Dorian looked at him then, at the strands of flaxen hair carried by the salty breeze, catching in his eyelashes and his lips. Dorian returned his smile with one of his own, following Tristan’s gaze when it left him to focus on the setting sun, and its golden hues that fell upon the thrashing, violet waves. In the day’s waning light, Dorian could have sworn that his eyes had changed their colour to match that of the stormy sea below them.

“The sky puts on the darkening blue coat, held for it by a row of ancient trees; you watch: and the lands grow distant in your sight, one journeying to heaven, one that falls; and leave you, not at home in either one, not quite so still and dark as the darkened houses, not calling to eternity with the passion of what becomes, a star each night, and rises; and leave you (inexpressibly to unravel) your life, with its immensity and fear, so that, now bounded, now immeasurable, it is alternately stone in you and star.”[4]

The words were carried by the wind, whirled in lazily circles about him, cradling him, enveloping him. The promenade was now empty save for the wandering seabirds, and it felt to him like they were both standing at the edge of the world; two people connected by a deep longing for the unknown, and companionable silence. 

Dorian cleared his throat, swallowing through the knot that had found itself there. “Your ability to recite entire poems off the top of your head is truly astounding.”

 Tristan hummed in amusement, and the flush that crept up his cheeks was definitely not because of the wind this time.  

*****

 [1] How many bards gild the the lapses of time! - John Keats

[2] Mutability - Percy Bysshe Shelley

[3] Carpe Diem - Horace, translated by James Michie

[4] Evening - Rainer Maria Rilke

[marinaaniseed]

Dark ‘n’ Stormy Pt. 8

A/N: I wrote this in one go this evening, so it’s probably crap. I’m also ignoring the existence of Thor: Love and Thunder because to me, personally, I just don’t think Thor would’ve given up leading the Asgardians like that. And I’m not sure the Asgardians would’ve been too happy about Valkyrie just popping up from nowhere and then being handed the throne. 

Content: You have a hangover. Thor helps you feel better (yes, that means there’s smut). Then there is much discussion about the state of New Asgard. All is not well. 3.2k-ish

If you like this, please let me know. If you don’t like it, let me know constructively, please :)

You woke up aching and blinded by the light. The headache made sense, the rest didn’t until you realised you’d fallen asleep in your underwear. The underwire was digging in and you wrestled out of it with immense relief. A large hand moved up to massage your tender chest. There was also an erection poking into you.

“Too bright...light on. Why?”

“You fell asleep on me last night, I didn’t want to wake you up. Shall I turn it off?”

“Mmm.” You tried to nod, but it was a bit much for your fragile head.

Thor got up and turned the light off. Sunlight was trying to make its way into the room but it was a lot better than the harsh light of the bare bulb. That was another thing you’d want to change, a shade you make it look more...homely.

“You’re not doing too well this morning, are you?” Thor rumbled into your ear. That’s an understatement, you thought. “Perhaps I can make you feel better?”

“Painkillers?”

“No...no I don’t know what those are. I meant something more like this…” he said, moving his hand between your legs. You definitely didn’t feel sexy right now. More like someone was crucifying you. Through the head.

“Paracetamol. Orange and white box. Bring water. Please.”

Thor did as you asked, helping you to sit up to swallow the tablets.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help? It’ll help with your headache…”

“Ehhhhhhhhh. Dunno. You’re the sex god, I guess…”

“Excellent. Let me know if you want me to stop.”

You laid back onto the pillows, one arm flung across your face to hide the light. It wasn’t the sexiest thing you’d ever done, and you knew you should’ve been more involved, but frankly, you just didn’t have the energy. Trying to drink like an Asgardian was a poor life choice. Whatever Thor wanted to do to help you, it probably couldn’t make things worse. Unless you vomited. That would be worse. Just as well you blew him last night. Your gag reflex would be non-existent this morning...your internal monologue lost its train as you heard a cockerel crowing somewhere in the distance. The cocks in New Asgard must all be earlier rises. You let out a brief chuckle at that.

“Is everything alright?” Thor asked, looking up from between your legs. You raised your arm slightly and squinted at him.

“Yeah, yeah...just remembering something funny.”

That was new. People didn’t usually remember jokes when he was about to pleasure them. Perhaps you were still drunk? He remembered from drinking with Selvig that Midgardians had a much lower tolerance than Asgardians. He pulled down your underwear cautiously, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. It wasn’t the softness of his lips against your skin that made you tremble, it was how the loose tendrils of his hair tickled you. Your mouth was dry and the blood was pounding in your head - you weren’t sure if it was the hangover, the God slowly licking between your legs or a combination of the two.

He was gentle and loving, which was good considering your fragile state, but he was also frustratingly slow, just taking his time. He was enjoying you, the taste, the smell, the raspy noises you made. Slow, steady, consistent. Once he felt you really relaxing into it, he upped the pressure and the pace. Gradually working up, the change imperceptible until your thighs were squeezing tight against the sides of his head. The arm not covering your eyes was rigid next to you, gripping the sheet so hard that one corner had come free.

Thor couldn’t talk, his mouth was otherwise occupied, but he was silently willing you to let go. When you did, he didn’t pause, he just kept licking. All of his focus was on your clit. You’d made him feel so good the night before, he was to do the same to you. He really hoped that he could get you to a point where you’d want him inside you. Laid down like this, his cock was trapped against the bed. He could’ve tried to fuck himself into the bed but you were the priority, so he stayed as he was.

You weren’t sure if it was the paracetamol kicking in, or the endorphins, but you were feeling much better after the third orgasm. Your headache was down to a mild background irritation and you felt brave enough to open your eyes and look down at Thor from where you still, just about, propped up on the pillows, despite your writhing.

“Th-thor?” you asked, peering down at the blonde head still sandwiched between your legs. You could feel how damp the sheet was beneath you, the room smelling of sweat and sex. He didn’t stop what he was doing but made eye contact with you, letting you know that he was listening, even if he was still focused on your pleasure.

“Sex? Now? Please? Gentle?”

You huffed out each word as Thor continued to overstimulate you. Part of him wanted to keep going, to see if he could get you to the point of making random noises instead of words, but he knew you were still pretty fragile. Besides, how could he turn you down when you’d asked so nicely?

He got onto his knees and slid his hands under your bum, lifting you up before thrusting into you. He kept his word and fucked you gently, even without the hangover you were very much still feeling sore from the spanking session the day before.

It was interesting, a slight change to missionary, but the intimacy remained. You could see the lust in Thor’s eyes as he maintained heavy-lidded eye contact with you, not pounding into but still hitting all the right spots.

“Would you like it if I used my thumb?” he whispered down to you. He didn’t want to speak too loudly in case your headache was still bad.

It was kind of him to ask. It was odd, having someone be so considerate of your wellbeing and enjoyment. Most men tended to just take what they wanted, with no regard for how you felt.

“Erm...it might be too much, but you can try.”

Thor nodded and adjusted his hold on you, his dominant arm sliding further underneath you to continue propping you up, while he brought his hand beneath his rounded tummy to gently part your lips and press his thumb to your clit, rubbing in small circles.

“Good?” he asked, noticing your sudden intake of breath.

“Very,” you managed to squeak. You knew from the way you were gripping his cock that it wouldn’t be long. “Oh my god, oh my god.”

“Yes, yes. I am your god,” he soothed as you came, feet digging into his back, he continued to stroke you in small circles. Your face now had a healthy strawberry tinge to it, much better than the pallor you’d woken up with, he thought. “I’m going to need to be more vigorous if I am to finish, is that ok? I can use my hand if you prefer.”

You’d shut your eyes during your orgasm, but Thor’s question made you blink them open again, eyeing him curiously. It was such a contrast to the way you’d violently made love over the arm of the settee.

“I’m sorry, Thor,” you mumbled, concerned that your delicate stomach might not enjoy a faster pace. “Perhaps we can compromise and use my hand?”

“A fair deal indeed,” he smiled down at you, removing himself from you, and lowering you gently back onto the bed.

He laid down and waited for you to summon the energy to move. You shuffled down on your side, resting your head against his soft stomach, one his hands moving to run through your hair. Reaching out, you stroked him upwards, alternating hands, for seven strokes, before moving downwards with both hands for one stroke. His hips thrust up towards the air, and that was all the encouragement you needed. You moved harder and faster, glad that your body had already lubricated him for you.

“Oh Norns, more please!” he almost howled, no longer able to keep his voice down. You didn’t mind though. You were enjoying feeling him respond to your touch, hearing his breath get shorter, the curses that came just under it.

With one particularly sharp thrust upwards, he came, splattering onto his tummy. You didn’t let go until he was done. You stayed cuddled into his side, enjoying the heat of him.

***

You weren’t sure how long you dozed, but a sharp knock on the bedroom door woke you up.

“Are you two at it again?” asked the unmistakable voice of Brunnhilde.

“No...did you want to watch again?” you asked, trying not to laugh.

“Y/N!” Thor gasped.

“What? Hey, better idea - you could join us!” You didn’t need to see Thor to know that his face would’ve gone white as a sheet before burning a deep wine red. Asgardians were pretty open about sex, he just didn’t need that particular thought rattling around his head.

“Tempting...but no. You need to get dressed. Both of you.”

That didn’t sound good. You reclipped the black lace bra and began rummaging in your backpack for clothes. It didn’t need to be a coherent combination, just enough to be decent. A baby blue blouse, a pair of briefs, an ankle-length skirt. You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, the remains of last night’s makeup on your face.

“Fuck, I look like a raccoon,” you chuckled at the dark smudges around your eyes. Thor was confused, you looked nothing like Raccoon, the rabbit he’d traveled with. He certainly wouldn’t have let the rabbit give him a handjob.

You padded barefoot from the bedroom, Thor just behind you. Brunnhilde was sat on the settee, with Korg and Miek.

“Hey man,” Korg said when Thor lumbered into view.

“Hey,” he said, returning the greeting. “Brunnhilde, have you come to join us for some Fortnite?”

“No, Thor,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ve not looked outside, have you?”

You both shook your heads. Why would you have done that?

“Either you’ve incited a really peaceful revolution-”

“Oh, a revolution! I’m interested!” Korg enthused.

“-or,” she continued, with a side glare at Korg, “there are some people who want to apologise to you.”

You went over to the window and peeked behind the curtain. At least a couple dozen people were politely stood in front of the house.

“Uh, Thor. You should probably see this.” He came to stand behind you, resting his chin on your head.

“Brunnhilde, what is going on here?” he rumbled back at the Valkyrie.

“Korg and Miek came round to play that game with you. When they got here, the crowd was already here. They came to find me...it would seem that your little rant last night had an impact, Y/N.”

“Well, they don’t have torches or pitchforks, so that’s a good sign,” you laughed uneasily. “I suppose we should see what they want.”

Thor was less sure, but let you lead him by the hand to the door. You took a deep breath before opening it.

��Um, hello,” you said. “Why are you here?” Thor held you tight against him, like a shield between him and the crowd, many of whom had now dropped to one knee.

“I, we, wanted to apologise,” said the woman from the bar. “To you. And to the king. I’m sorry for saying those things, that wasn’t right. And as a whole, we are sorry for the way we have treated you, your majesty.”

“But, I’m not the king,” Thor tried to protest.

“Thor, you’re missing the point,” you hissed at him. “I accept your apology,” you told the woman.

“Yes, yes, it’s fine...I understand that I have not served Asgard as I should have. That is why I made Brunnhilde king.”

There was a lot of murmuring in the crowd. It was clear that this was not an entirely popular situation.

“Well, erm, thank you for coming here to apologise. It’s appreciated but you didn’t need to do it,” you continued.

“Ah!” came a shout from the back. “It is lunchtime and you didn’t appear at the tavern. We want to learn about Midgard.”

You’d forgotten about that part of your diatribe. The crowd was looking at you expectantly. Shit.

“Could you...could you give me a few minutes? I’m not really dressed,” you said, indicating your bare feet.

“Of course! We shall wait here until you are ready.”

You moved back inside, shutting the door. What had you done?

“I guess I’d better find some socks,” you said as much to yourself as to Thor, before heading back to the bedroom. He was still stood in the same place when you returned to grab your cloak.

“Is this wise?” he asked.

“Probably not, but I said I’d do it.”

“What will you teach them?”

“Not a clue,” you noted, standing on tiptoe to kiss his nose. “I guess we’ll just see how it goes.”

*** The Asgardians plied you with water and bread after you vehemently declined the offer of a beer. You had no idea where to start so you decided to just let them ask you questions, which you answered as best as you could.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

*** Back at home, the situation wasn’t much better for Thor.

“We need to have that talk,” Brunnhilde said, firmly. Korg nodded, so Thor resigned himself, sitting down between the two of them.

“What do we need to talk about?”

“We have a lot of problems. New Asgard has a lot of problems.”

“Like what?” Thor hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Then again, he supposed, he hadn’t really noticed anything.

“We need to provide more housing, permanent housing for the people who were undusted. We need to develop our economy. The Norwegians resent propping us up. We need to engage with the other Midgardian nations. We need to trade, to develop, to rebuild. There’s no school, no library, nowhere for the community apart from the tavern. There’s a lot of problems with drinking, brawling. The soldiers don’t know what to do with themselves. Some have been lured away, to fight Midgardian wars, although I have tried to stop that. I’ve tried, too, to keep the press, the media away from here, but there is always gossip, always prying eyes. They want to know what we’re doing here. What you’re doing. My position is not respected. I am respected for what I have done since Ragnarok, but it is well remembered that I abandoned Asgard for many centuries. I am not trusted. The other realms...well, that’s just a mess. They feel that we’ve abandoned them. And we have. There are many who believe that only a descendant of Odin can, indeed, should rule Asgard. So unless you’ve got any other hidden siblings, or hidden children for that matter, that really only leaves you.”

“Can’t I adopt you? Make you my daughter, like my father adopted Loki?”

“That’s...disturbing. And wrong. On many levels. No. Your brother was raised as an Odinson. And even if he wasn’t, he was still royalty. And even if I agreed to be adopted, which I won’t, we still have other problems.”

“Such as?”

“I wish to marry.”

“That is wonderful news Brunnhilde. I will make your union very blessed indeed. Your husband will be a lucky man indeed.” He could see it now, a new generation of Valkyries to protect Asgard.

“No, Thor. Wife. I love a woman.”

“Oh, oh right. Well, that’s even better. Asgard can have two queens. Kings. Whichever.”

“No, Thor. Sif and I have talked-”

“Sif!?”

“Yes, Sif.”

Wow. He really hadn’t been paying attention. All these years of friendship with Sif and he’d never realised she liked women.

“That is an excellent union indeed,” he said, making a note to never get involved in any disputes between the two of them.

“Sif and I don’t want to rule. And even if the people accepted it, we would still be unable to produce an heir. And yes, we know there are options, but we don’t want a child. We are happy to serve as your advisors but we want to explore this world, and others, in the time that we have.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“When Ragnarok happened, it destroyed the whole of Asgard. Nobody brought any apples. Any seeds to grow new trees. Without the golden apples of Idunn, we will no longer retain our youth. We will age, like the mortals. We don’t know how long it will take, but it will happen. Sif and I, we’ve fought for so long. We want the chance to live our lives.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Hey man, it’s alright,” said Korg, clapping a hand onto Thor’s shoulder.

It was most definitely not alright. Facing Thanos again seemed a better proposition than trying to deal with this mess.

“There must be something we can do?” Thor replied, eventually.

“If there was a way, that knowledge was almost certainly lost when Asgard was destroyed. I asked your friends, Star-Lord and Strange, to keep an eye out for anything on their travels, but it is unlikely that we’ll find anything.”

Thor sat in silence. Things were just starting to go well again. He had you, his nightmares were getting a little better. But now there was all of this.

Why did Loki have to be dead? He would know what to do.

“Do I have to be king? Can’t we have one of those president things, like the Americans do?”

“That is an option,” the Valkyrie admitted. “However, you would need to get the support of the people.”

“Yeah, make sure you print enough pamphlets before you try to change the system,” Korg added.

Thor needed a drink. He went to the fridge and came back with enough beers for everyone.

“I need some time to think about this,” he said, eventually.

“Of course, I won’t throw you into this, but perhaps we could start by getting a consensus from the people on how they wish to be governed. Once we know what their preference is, we can go from there.”

Thor nodded. He just wanted to go back to bed and hold onto you.

“One more thing,” the Valkyrie said as she got up to leave. “I’ve asked some friends of ours to do some digging on Y/N. Nothing bad, I just want to know who she is. Once it gets out, and believe me, it will, that you’re bedding her, the Midgardian press will want to know everything they can about her. If there’s anything that’s likely to cause problems, it’s best if we know about it first.”

Thor nodded. It had upset Jane so much that her achievements were overshadowed by the fact that she was with him. He didn’t want that to happen to you. But whether he was the Asgardian leader, or not, his life would always be scrutinised by the Midgardians he loved so much. Perhaps if he was king, he would have more power to protect you? That was certainly worth thinking about.

And the problem of an heir. Would you want that? It was certainly too early to ask you.

What a day. This beer wasn’t going to be nearly enough.

@innerpaperexpertcloud @morganhoran1671

[filmfanatic82]

Read on AO3 (HERE)

Chapter 7: Raven (II)

Where the hell is Blake?

The question shoots through Raven’s mind for the umpteenth time as she’s forced to watch Clarke and Lexa pretend they aren’t mere seconds away from jumping each other’s bones. She runs her hands over her ponytail and lets out a heavy sigh.

After having spent the better part of the afternoon with Octavia, hiding out from the world underneath the school bleachers, Raven suddenly finds herself craving the younger girl’s presence much more than usual. Sure, she’s always had a soft spot for Octavia, sometimes preferring her company over that of anyone else that she knows. But lately…

Lately, it's been different.

Then again, everything has. Ever since that night a few months ago when Raven had drunk one too many cups of Monty Juice and found herself locking lips with a dark and mysterious junior name Echo.

It had started off innocent enough. Just a friendly game of spin the bottle between the usual delinquents and a few other randoms that went to their school. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

Not until it was Raven’s turn.

At first, thanks to the ever-growing effects of Monty Juice, Raven had thought the bottle had landed on Clarke. Which wouldn’t have been anything new. She had ‘kissed’ Clarke a million and one times before. Usually just a quick peck on the lips or, every so often, when Clarke had downed one too many tequila shots, it would be something deeper.  

And sure it was enjoyable… More enjoyable than any of Raven’s makeout sessions with Finn. But, she had always chalked it up to the simple fact that it was Clarke.

Who wouldn’t enjoy kissing Clarke Griffin?

But, it wasn’t Clarke who moved forward towards Raven. Is was an unknown girl, rocking heavy eyeliner and a ‘don’t fuck with me’ black leather jacket, that slowly made her way across the circle. Her rich hazel eyes locked in on Raven, causing a strange, electric shiver to shoot down Raven’s spine. And…

Shit.

Raven couldn’t move. She sat there, muscles frozen, fixed in the girl’s gaze like a helpless prey seconds before a predator pounces. Breathing wasn’t an option. Nor looking away. All Raven could do was watch as the girl’s red cherry lips inched closer and closer to hers and…

Then, it was as if someone had turned on a freakin’ floodlight within the depth of her brain, finally illuminating the obvious fact that had been there all along.

Gay.

The word flashed in blindly neon lights. A simple yet powerful revelation.

A truth, that up until this point, Raven had been struggling to put into words.

By the time the girl pulled out of the kiss, there was no turning back. Raven’s eyes had been opened and her world could never be the same. And…

It fucking terrified her.

“You okay, Rae?” Clarke questions. She stops drawing suggestive circles with her fingers on Lexa’s chiseled bicep and turns her attention toward Raven.

“Yeah. I’m good.” Raven straightens herself up in the bean bag chair and glances down at her phone once again.

Still nothing.

Raven fights against the itch to shoot off yet another text as her fingers wander upwards and grasp hold of the tiny metal crane that’s tucked away just beneath her soft heather gray t-shirt.

The necklace had been a birthday present from Octavia. A simple yet elegant origami crane on a plain metal chain that all but screamed Raven’s style. She had found it dangling from inside her locker on the morning of her birthday with a handwritten note that said ‘Saw this when we were on vacation and thought of you. Know it’s not a raven, but figured it was close enough. Happy Birthday, Rae. I know it’ll be a good one. Love O’

They had never talked about it nor did Raven ever mention the present to Finn, but it resided around her neck nonetheless. Day in and day out. A tiny reminder of her favorite constant human being in her tumultuous life.

Her Octavia.

Well… Not hers…

But maybe…

The far off sounds of the front door opening echoes throughout the basement, instantly snapping Raven out of her thoughts.

“Who’s that?” Raven asks.

“Not sure. Lex?” Clarke nudges Lexa in the shoulder, breaking Lexa’s intense concentration on the tv.

“Huh?” Lexa gives a hard blink, clearly not sure what was just said.

“The front door just opened,” Clarke responds.

“Strange. Doubt it’s my mom. She got assigned a big case last week and has been pretty much living in her office all week.”

“Maybe it’s O,” Raven offers up with a slight nonchalant shrug.

“Octavia?” Clarke asks, confused.

“Yeah. I invited her to tag along tonight. She seemed to be having a rough day and figured she might wanna join us.”  

“Rough day?”

“Dunno. Just something I picked up on.”

Clarke gives a bit of a nod signaling that she doesn’t need any further explanation. She gets it. “Thanks.”

“Always.”

The dull drone of the tv filters back in between the three of them as Lexa and Clarke zone back out, mindlessly spoiling each other with feather-like touches across the patches of exposed skin.

Raven let’s out another sigh and then, without another moment’s hesitation, gets up and heads up the basement stairs.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Yo, Blake. What the hell took you--” Raven trails off as she rounds the corner into the kitchen and spots…

Anya.

Anya freakin’ Woods. The older of the infamous Woods sister and the one human being on the face of the earth that can manage to throw Raven off of her game in a matter of milliseconds. Anya doesn’t talk. She spars. Verbally poking again and again, until she achieves what she wants.

“Reyes,” Anya says in a calm draw, not fully bothering to look up from her phone.

“Cheekbones,” Raven responds, matching Anya tone. She knows this game well. It’s one that they’ve been religiously playing since the very first time Raven step foot in the Woods house almost six years ago.

“Sexiled?”

“No. Just taking a break from the mad orgy down there.” Reyes makes her way to the fridge, trying her best not to pay Anya any more attention than she needs to. It’s a move. A deliberate and obvious one.

“Hairboy finally learned to share his toys with others?” Anya asks with the slightest rise of her eyebrows. Her classic tell. One that Raven has learned throughout the years to watch for. Anya has the itch to play. “Interesting.”

Raven visibly bristles at the mention of Finn’s name.

Shit.

A wave of instant regret washes over Raven. She doesn't need to turn around to know that a small but noticeable cherisher smirk is crawling its way across Anya’s lips.

“Or is Hairboy not in the picture anymore?”

Raven takes a deep breath as her hand grips tighter around the door of the refrigerator. A thick, suffocating silence settles within the kitchen. It’s her move. And she needs to make it before Anya catches on. Before…

“Hello?” Octavia’s voice cuts through the kitchen bringing an immediate sense of physical relief to every inch of Raven’s body.

“Thank fucking god,” Raven mutters under her breath as she grabs a bottle of water and shuts the fridge. She turns around just as Octavia make her way into the kitchen and greets the younger girl with one of her signature, cocky grins. “You made it. Was beginning to worry we were gonna have to send out a search party or something.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t sure about what to wear and--”

“And you dragged your heels for a good 25 minutes before deciding to raid Bell’s wardrobe?” Raven says finishes Octavia’s sentence with the greatest of ease. Her eyes can’t help but give Octavia a once over, pausing to appreciate just how perfectly Bell’s skinny gray jeans and faded Led Zeppelin henley exemplify Octavia’s nature androgynous features as her mind starts to head towards those ever-tempting thoughts. Thoughts that Raven knows she shouldn’t have. Especially about Octavia. But it’s practically impossible not to.

Not when she looks like that.

“Yeah. Sorta,” Octavia replies, shifting a bit from foot to foot, shoving her hands deeper into the back pockets of her jeans as she does. “Where’s Clarke and Lexa?”

“Downstairs.”

“Cool.” Octavia gives a slight nod and then without another word, ducks back out of the kitchen, leaving Raven once again alone with Anya.

The silence seeps back in between the two of them for a moment or two as Raven’s mind lingers on her Octavia fueled thoughts, then--

“Careful, Reyes. Your gay is showing,” Anya says with a strange underlying sense of knowing to her voice. She slips out of her chair, tucks her phone in her pocket, and gives Raven a parting wink before making her way out of the kitchen.

Checkmate.  

“Fuck,” Raven exhales once Anya is out of sight and races her hands over her ponytail in a burst of undiluted frustration.

Anya freakin’ Woods.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Crying.

Anya’s crying.

Anya doesn’t cry. Never. Not even when she accidentally broke her wrist in four places last summer at the Roadhouse pub.

Oh god… Why is Anya crying?

The question flashes across the blurred mess of jumbled lights and sounds within her mind for the briefest of moments, but before Raven can even attempt to form the words, a blanket of darkness falls upon her once again.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Lightning.

A bolt of freaking lightning.

Raven’s mouth opens to scream as every nerve in her body ignites at once but no sounds come out.

“Clear.”

“Got a pulse.”

“Good. Push another round of atropine.”

All Raven can do is helplessly stare up at the semi-blurry blob like images above her move in a strange, frenetic dance. Tears flow freely down her cheeks, cutting a clear definitive path against her olive complexion.

What the hell’s happening?

Why is her body on fire?

Raven’s mind gropes at the array of questions as they fly in and out of her consciousness, utterly desperate to hold onto one long enough to fully grasp the truth behind it.  

“What’s her name again?”

“Rae… Raven… It’s Raven,” Anya’s voice cuts through the sea of Raven’s fragmented thoughts, so fragile and broken.

“Okay good… Raven… Raven, can you hear me? Can you feel my hand? I need you to squeeze my fingers if you can hear me?”

Raven tries to locate the part of her brain that controls her motor functions but comes up short. Nothing seems to work. She tries again… and again… and again…

“Raven? Raven, stay with me… Shit. She’s coding again. Get the paddles ready…”

Raven battles harder against her failing body as the darkness starts to creep in, slowly invading every inch of her consciousness. She needs to give them a sign -- any sign -- that she’s still there. That there’s still life in her.

But the darkness continues to spread. Blanketing everything it touches with its dense nothingness. A black sea that stretches beyond infinity. It inches closer and closer, only milliseconds away from consuming the whole of Raven.

“Clear!”

Unable to fight it any longer, Raven simply gives in and lets the darkness swallow her whole.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The steady beacon of sound breaks through the darkness of Raven’s mind, awakening her synapses once again. Unlike before, though, there’s a pedicular sense of clarity. As if the lights have been suddenly flipped on in the dark expanse and finally the stray bits and pieces merge together, forming one holistic picture. A terrifying yet decipherable picture. One that Raven needs no further explanation to understand.

They crashed.

Rapid images of glass shattering and metal twisting pop across her consciousness like fireworks lighting up a night’s sky. And then the screaming and followed by a tsunami of pain.

Just the mere memory of it is enough to make Raven want to fade back to the comforting warm of the darkness. But instead, though, she pushes down those memories with a hard swallow, allowing them to venture into the place where she stores all of her other life moments that she doesn’t want to have to deal with.

“I’m sorry.”

The words instantly grab hold of Raven, like a familiar hand reaching out and intertwining their fingers with her own. It’s comfort. A comfort that, up until this very moment in time, she thought was long gone. Only meant to reside in the now tainted memories of Raven’s past.

Raven blinks. Her eyes crack open and the world around her comes into focus revealing a glimpse into her surroundings. Cold and sterile.  A plethora of sickly green tinted curtains mixed with a small army angrily beeping machines. Although she can’t move, she can feel the constricting presence of the numerous wires and tubes, snaking their way into different parts of her body, some pumping her with a concoction of drugs while others reporting in on her vitals.

Raven blinks again and yet another layer of her current world reveals itself. There, tucked away in the far corner of the room, sits an amalgamation of someone she once knew and someone she has always secretly desired to meet. The human being who's solely responsible for the deepest of scars etched across Raven’s soul.

Sure, their clothes and undercut hairstyle are slightly foreign to Raven, but nonetheless, those hazel eyes are exactly the same. The ones that have the ability to bore through her rock-solid emotional walls with the greatest of ease and strip her down until there’s nothing left but the truth. Those eyes are the ones that until this very moment have plagued Raven’s dreams. A bitter reminder of all that could’ve been.

Raven attempts to call their name, but her voice is simply nowhere to be found. The mere effort causes another wave of exhaustion filled pain to wash over her, forcing her eyes to shut once again. It’s too much.

Everything is too much.

A whisper of a groan escapes Raven’s lips as she fights to remain lucid. It’s so faint that it should be lost amongst the chorus of the machines, but…

But it’s not.

Raven is suddenly aware of the familiar sensation of someone’s hand slipping ever so carefully into her own. Fingers interlacing themselves one by one, like a strong and comforting lifeline.

As darkness starts to seep in once again, luring Raven back into the land of unconsciousness, she can’t help but think that maybe -- just maybe-- after all these years of painful avoidance to the point of almost non-existence, that they can reside in each other’s lives once again.

Just maybe…   

[mister-lucky-bunny]

Scooby Doo: Monster Menagerie Chpt. 10

Description:  Shaggy and the gang meet up with Colonel Calloway to schedule the volleyball tournament.

Dusk was coming to a close, which would soon welcome the dark night sky, the moon barely visible beyond a thick sea of clouds above. During this time, any occupants of either school that sat next to each other would be inside, keeping to themselves with dinner, studies, or any other interests. In the military school, Colonel Calloway would be studying over his calender. Unsurprisingly, each day would be completely filled with his neat, yet tiny, writing. Black, red, and blue ink would be used for reasons only he knew, for different situations.

Currently, he was searching ahead a month, looking for any open positions that he may schedule the annual volleyball tournament between the two schools. In his opinion, volleyball was a little bit... dated. Especially since the students who took part in it were now much older, and probably didn't have as keen of a liking to the sport. However, it was also tradition, and he himself didn't like to stray too far from the usual. After all, as a headmaster of a military school, it was his job to keep everything as orderly as possible.

His finger carefully moved from day to day, thinking to himself about which day could work best. After a couple of minutes, he reached towards a pen, resting on his desk, and began to write neatly into the box. Exactly one month from today, the day before Halloween. It would work perfectly. After placing his pen down and stepping back from his desk, he moved over to his door, lifting his hat and jacket off of the rack before him and putting them on. The Colonel began his walk towards the old mansion of a private school.

The man kept an even, brisk pace, standing up straight and looking professional. Despite having a plain, thoughtful look on his face, his brain kept going, as it often was. Calloway knew that it wouldn't exactly be enjoyable to visit the school, though not because of the school itself. He was quite used to the odd exterior (and interior, for that matter). Instead, he knew that the monster students inside would not be happy to see him. He was thankful that he did not have to teach physical education to them anymore, but that just lead to another question that he began to ask himself. Who was teaching them? That question never left his head, though due to the fact that he was already quite a busy man, he never bothered to look for himself.

Now that he had a perfect opportunity, though, he would finally get his answer. As the Colonel crossed the border between his school and Miss Grimwood's, his movement slowed to a halt, an eyebrow perking at the vehicle parked nearby. He remembered that the only other coach he could remember seeing there drove a red van. The van parked here, however, was a strange clash of bright green, robin's egg blue, and orange. A very... retro hippie feel to it. The name on the side of it was also brought to his attention, his eyes thoroughly scanning over it. 'Mystery Machine'? For some reason, the name was somewhat familiar. Where had he heard it before? Radio or newspaper, most likely.

The Colonel shrugged to himself and sighed gently, turning his attention back to the school. If it was the same guy, maybe he touched up his van with a new coat of paint? Or maybe it was a new van altogether. Maybe, he secretly hoped, it was a new coach as well.

After moving across the drawbridge, he reached the front door, rapping his knuckles against the door before waiting patiently. Eventually, the door would open, revealing the strange octopus butler. If it were anyone else, they probably would have been weirded out by such a sight. However, Colonel Calloway was used to the cephalopod butler, and merely greeted with him with a tip of his cap. Soon enough, the octo-butler gave a small bow of it's own, stepping to the side and allowing the Colonel in. Time to get down to business...

___________________________________

Despite Shaggy ultimately being okay after the odd incident with him fainting for no apparent reason, the news would still come as a shock to the others once they finally returned from the crime scene. The fact that Phanty seemed so nonchalant when she brought up the fact to them didn't do anything to soften the blow. It wouldn't take long before the rest of the gang swamped around the lanky man, regardless of how many times he told them he was fine.

After the fifth examination from Velma, Shaggy waved them off, beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed. "Like, c'mon guys! I've already been looked over plenty of times! Nothing is wrong!" He insisted, sitting at the dining table with everyone else, Velma having just stepped away from checking his head.

"There aren't any injuries, that's for sure," Velma said, sitting beside of him, looking over him in a thoughtful manner. "Still, it's awfully strange how you just fell over so suddenly like that."

"Maybe you're just a little overworked, Shag," Freddie suggested. "I don't imagine being a coach is all that easy."

"That's probably it," Elsa interjected. "If it's been awhile since you've done any actual teaching, Coach, it's safe to say that your body is trying to get used to it again."

The lanky man scratched his head, thinking a little bit. He didn't feel worse for wear when that happened, but he also didn't want to worry his friends any more than he already had. With a small grin and a weary laugh, he nodded. "Like, that's probably it. Having a class before dinner probably distracted me or something."

Despite a small wave of laughter among everyone, there were still a couple of people who were worried, though kept it secret. If Shaggy looked and felt okay, then there was no reason to worry right? It was still concerning because no one knew why. Googie, with a raised eyebrow, turned to the detective, who sat across from her, eyeing the other man over some. "What do you think, detective?" She asked in a quiet, worried tone.

He remained quiet for a bit, not looking at her. After a few seconds, his grin flashed and he merely shrugged, turning to her. "It might just be exhaustion, like they said. I'm not a doctor, so unless he's dead, I wouldn't have a clue," He chuckled. That statement did little to make her feel better. With an uneasy glance back towards Shaggy, she sighed and fixed her hair idly with one hand. Nothing to fret about for now, at least.

During their dinner of some sort of quiche, Sibella had decided to speak up about a topic that Shaggy had not elaborated on. "So, Coach, if it's no trouble, could you please tell us how you, Scooby, and Googie met my Father?" Shaggy glanced upwards in the middle of his bite, first looking to the imploring vampire and then to Googie, who was looking at him back. Scooby was also looking to her for affirmation, which she gave with a small nod, mixed with a shrug. The rest of Mystery Incorporated had already heard the story, but they tensed up, wondering how she'd react. The detective looked their way, an eyebrow raised. It was obvious he was interested in hearing the story as well.

The other ghouls were very intrigued by this development too. Phantasma, not wanting to turn down a free opportunity for a free story, perked right up, eyes glued to her coach as she rested her chin in her hands, waiting eagerly. Winnie also perked up, becoming curious. "Hey, yeah! What happened between you and Bella's dad?" She'd ask, her words slightly muffled due to the fact she was eating with her mouth full.

Everyone was soon watching him, silently urging for the story. Even Miss Grimwood looked expectantly to the coach, a small, knowing smirk forming on her face. 'Like, does she know? Or does she just like watching me react under pressure or something?' Shaggy found himself asking to himself. After setting down his fork, Shaggy cleared his throat. "Well, uh... like, here's how Scooby, Scrappy, Googie, and I met the Count..."

The next few minutes would be Shaggy retelling the story of how he became a werewolf, with Googie adding in some points from her perspective, with Scooby concurring. Just like before, reactions were somewhat mixed, though from the ghouls' side, the most palpable emotion would be anger. Especially from Sibella, who's facial expression barely changed. While she did listen with interest, her somewhat curious look became more unreadable and stone-faced. With how badly her hand was shaking, though, it was clear to say that she was not pleased. She made sure to put her dining utensils down, hiding her growing fury. The anger from a vampire was so feasible, you could cut it with a knife. Winnie, who was much less subtle, looked less than pleased by this. On one hand, Shaggy had been a werewolf. On the other, it was against his will. And for what? A dumb road race for monsters? If she'd have known that this was going on, she would have immediately gone to her Papa and told him.

Tanis listened to the story with her eyes wide, rapt with attention. She was clearly shocked and horrified that Sibella's dad would do such a thing. After all, she had met the Count many times before, and he had always seemed so nice and pleasant! Why would he do such a thing to their coach? She was thankful that it didn't seem to leave any lasting effects on him, at the very least. Still... being turned into a werewolf against one's will didn't sound fun.

Elsa, Phanty, and the detective seemed to share the general emotion of vast intrigue. In Elsa's case, she was mostly wondering how (and why) the full moon could possess such powers to randomly decide when someone would become a werewolf under it. Was it even random? This was something she'd have to study about, surely. The detective's train of thought was more or less the same, minus the fact that his face was split into an expression of what could best be described as maniacal glee. To him, nothing was more fascinating to him currently than learning about gaining a werewolf curse without actually being cursed. As for Phantasma, her thought process didn't have as much depth as the other two. She was merely captivated by the amazing story the two were telling!

After a bit of time, Shaggy awkwardly ended his story with, "So like... that's it, I guess. All in all, a very weird story."

"I'm just glad that we don't have to see Dracula again..." Googie gulped, quickly turning her gaze to Sibella. "Um, n-no offense of course!"

Sibella didn't turn her gaze to the blond, looking as if she was doing everything to keep herself from flying off the edge, so to speak. "Oh, none taken, I assure you," She replied, her voice sounding quite cold. "I sincerely apologize about my Father. If I'd have known sooner..." The vampire quickly stood up, quickly turning away and moving out of the dining area. "If you all will excuse me, I have a letter to send to Father," She continued, almost sounding as if she was suppressing a growl. No one dared to try and stop her, not even Miss Grimwood. The aura she was emitting was frightening enough as it was.

It wasn't until the room was one vampire short did anyone speak up anymore. "...well I know someone who won't be getting any Christmas cards this year," Daphne muttered, grinning a little at her own joke.

"Well, that was an awesome story, regardless, Shaggy!" Phantasma giggled. "It does suck that you all got kidnapped like that, plus having to go through with that awful race? My dad's very lucky he doesn't have to partake in that. Glad you all made it out okay and taught him a lesson or two!"

"If he did do something, though, I wouldn't have hesitated to teach him a lesson myself," Winnie huffed, growling some. She did flash Shaggy an apologetic look, though.

"All I know is, I have a very stern letter to send to my parents," Elsa lamented, deciding to keep her interests to herself. After all, it was clear that they had been through a lot, and being reminded of it or showing any levity towards it probably wasn't very polite.

"Same here!" Tanis interjected. "I can't believe Mummy-Daddy would act so mean for a race! He was no better than those Calloway boys!" She huffed, crossing her arms.

"Like, girls, relax! This all happened years ago," Shaggy commented, moving his eyes from one girl to the next. "I'm just thankful we don't have to go through with that again."

"I'm not willing to forgive Dracula just yet, but as long as he doesn't butt into our lives again, I'll be thankful," Googie sighed, turning her attention towards where Sibella walked out from. "Is she gonna be okay..?" She asked cautiously.

"Oh don't worry about her," Miss Grimwood said, waving her hand. "I don't assume she's going to do much more than send a very strongly worded letter to her Father." She took a sip of her drink, thinking a couple of seconds before continuing. "...however, if she remains in her room, I'd be cautious about checking up on her. A brooding vampire is one that is filled with emotions. Sibella will be ready to talk about her emotions when she feels like she can. Until then, we'll just have to wait."

Dinner soon ended afterwards, since everyone had finished eating. Just as the detective was about to question Shaggy about the whole race, he was saved when someone had knocked on the door, gaining everyone's attention. As the octopus butler walked himself to the door to answer, Freddie spoke up. "Who could be stopping by this late?"

"That's probably the Colonel," Miss Grimwood answered, a snort of disdain coming from a certain red-haired werewolf, who soon got up and began to head to her room. After a glare towards Winnie, she continued. "He's probably here to schedule the volleyball tournament, and meet up with his replacement."

"Like, I remember him. Is he still as stuck up as usual?" Shaggy joked, sharing a laugh with the headmistress.

"I doubt he's ever going to loosen up, Coach."

The rest of the Mystery gang decided to stick with Shaggy, curious as to who this Colonel was. The detective was going to join them, but was soon flanked by Phantasma, who eagerly suggested that he tell her about the crime scene they had investigated earlier. More specifically, the dead body. At first, Velma wasn't too keen on the fact that he quickly agreed to do so, beginning to head up the stairs after Phanty flew into the ceiling, laughing in her usual giddy manner.

"They wanted to help us out, right? Might as well share the details with those who are willing," He answered simply before heading out. Velma's intuition told her that the ghost girl asking about the crime scene would not lead to her helping with the mystery, but she decided against bringing that point up to him. Phanty was nice and all, but she was a loose cannon. The only thing more dangerous than one of them is two of them in the same room.

Miss Grimwood, Shaggy, and the rest of the humans seated themselves in the living room, watching as the octopus butler walked in with the Colonel, still dressed in his navy blue suit, medals His mustache was still long and stringy underneath his long hooked nose, although it was clear that age was starting to take it's toll on the man. Despite that, he still carried himself with immense dignity and pride.

The look of pride soon wore off as his eyes fell upon the group of humans, recognizing two specific ones out of the whole group. Mainly, the tallest one and his dog. The look on his face was comparable to one who had just stuck his nose in a garbage can. This look quickly went away as the man cleared his throat. "Coach Rogers. I see we meet once again," He began, offering a hand. Shaggy quickly shook it, smiling politely.

"Like, good to see you again too, Colonel," He answered. Afterwards, Scooby took the hand with his paw, confusing the Colonel, but returning it.

"Er, likewise." His attention looked around to everyone else. "Are these fellow staff members?" He asked, sounding quite perplexed, soon taking a seat that was offered by the butler.

"Oh no, Colonel," Miss Grimwood replied. "They're all here to assist the local town with a few... attacks that have been occurring there, lately. I'm merely allowing them a place to stay and work until they solve it."

"A pleasure to meet you, Colonel," Freddie began, pointing between everyone in the group. "My name is Freddie, and that's Velma, Daphne, and Googie." Everyone gave a small wave to the man, who saluted them back briefly as a greeting.

The Colonel would then look a bit apprehensive about the headmistress's comment. "I see... well, good luck with that, in any case. That's one good thing about being in the middle of nowhere. I do have to protect my students, as I'm sure you understand Miss Grimwood." After a bit, he cleared his throat and straightened up. "However, right now I am here to discuss our upcoming game, if that's no problem."

With a nod, Shaggy leaned forward a bit. "Like, what do ya wanna discuss?"

________________________________________

It took every ounce of self control for Sibella not to slam her door shut and let out a loud exasperated scream. Rather, she gripped her fists tightly and let out an exasperated groan. She absolutely could not believe the nerve of him! Hadn't he sunken low enough without having to resort to kidnapping people for his dumb hobby? The vampire stormed over to her desk, digging out a spare sheet of paper and reaching for a pen, starting to write a letter. Her scrawl was a bit messy, due to rage, but she didn't seem to care about that.

At least, she wouldn't care about it until she heard something clatter against her floor. Her hand froze in place as her eyes widened, her face turning from anger to fear. Another small clatter got her to turn around towards her coffin, seeing a suitcase tremble around some. Sibella slowly set down her pen and made her way over to the suitcase. It was still closed tightly from the day she first arrived.

As the vampire reached her hand out towards the twitching suitcase, it seemed to pause, as if expecting her. She hesitated, as if it was going to suddenly attack her. She quickly moved her hands to the clasps and undid them, slowly opening the case up. Her large eyes seemed to widen some more upon what she saw. She had almost forgotten she had packed this, or rather, she wanted to forget she packed this.

Without waiting a second longer, she grabbed the item in her bag before it could move around some more, clinging it tightly to her chest. This had to be the reason for all of her nightmares, right? Had to be. Sibella moved towards her door and quickly opened it, peeking her head out. No one was in the hall, and she could hear talking. One conversation was coming from Phantasma's room, though music would play out in between every few sentences. Good. That would keep her distracted.

It was better to be safe than sorry, however, so she decided to levitate, though just barely. It was best to make as little noise as possible. As she carefully floated herself down the stairwell into the foyer, she peered her head just barely into the living room. Miss Grimwood and the others were having a conversation with Colonel Calloway. A perfect distraction, though she knew he wouldn't be sticking around for long. She had to hurry and hide this... particular item.

Thinking quickly, she hurried off towards the laboratory. Despite the door creaking open some, it didn't attract anyone closer to her, so she hurried down further into it. She was greeted with the dark room, barely lit by small candles that never seemed to burn out. Sibella began to look around, trying to find the best spot to hide it. The first thing she did was look towards her desk. That wouldn't do, there wasn't anywhere to hide it with her desk. Sibella's eyes then darted towards the cauldrons. Nearby shelves and boxes kept ingredients for potion work, but all that would do was make a big mess. Besides, with how often everyone went over there, it wouldn't be long before someone found it.

She then turned to the bookshelves. Debatable, since no one's really looked through a book there in awhile. With the layer of dust masked onto the shelves, it would be easy to hide her item. It would still stand out, though, if she put it there. Moving her gaze to the side, she figured it out. Rather than hiding it in the shelf, she would just have to hide it behind the shelf. Thankfully, the shelves weren't pushed up too close to the wall, but it would still take a bit of effort in hiding it in such a place.

Sibella got to her knees and started to shove the item inwards. It was much tighter than it looked, but thankfully managed to hide it away, almost out of sight. If anyone bothered to get really close to the back of the shelf, they might be able to see it, but other than that, it was a pretty good spot.

A thought occurred to the girl as she began to levitate once more, starting to move back to her room. She could easily destroy it, as she had the capabilities. She shook her head upon thinking that, though, knowing better. First of all, it was her Father's, and despite the fact that she was still rather angry with him, this was a very important item for him to protect, and he didn't even know that she had taken it from him in the first place. Incurring the wrath of her father wouldn't do her any favors, especially since this item was incredibly important. And also very dangerous. The vampire quickly closed the door behind her and sighed, moving back to her desk.

'Hopefully the bad dreams will stop, at least,' Sibella thought to herself, continuing her letter.

____________________________________________

"Burns and scratch marks?! Oh how gruesome!" Phantasma giggled madly, floating at least a couple of feet off of the floor, making the detective have to look up at her.

"Oh it was. Any hair remaining on him was smoking and singed so badly, I'm surprised he even had any hair," The man replied, grinning in an excitable manner. He did so love to share details of his investigations, even to a ghost that was just as crazy as he was. The man was leaning against the nearby wall, hands remaining in his hoodie pockets.

"How much blood was there?" The ghost asked curiously, her voice just as eager for more details.

"There definitely wasn't a shortage, though most of it was around the body, as to be expected," The detective mused, almost disappointed that there wasn't more.

This didn't stop the phantom from giggling crazily. "Eww, gross! I bet that whole place just reeked!" She floated closely, face to face with the other man, both of them sharing wide smiles. "Tell me, was he missing any limbs? Fingers? Maybe something spilling out of him?!"

"Busted nose, though it was kinda hard to tell due to the fact that he had no face on him." The detective's grin seemed to widen in amusement as Phanty reacted in shock.

"Woooah! No face, really? I can't imagine being without a face!" Phanty spoke aloud, crossing her legs as she 'sat' in midair. "Whatever's out there, it must be mad as hell!"

"That was the case with the other one we found. No face, scratch marks, burns, all that jazz." He put his hand on his chin, looking marginally more thoughtful. "I'm not sure if that's a motive or not. All it proves to me is that this thing is persistent, whatever it is."

"Well, let's hope you and the others figure out what it is before it finds us! I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm safe, since I'm incorporeal and all that, but it still wouldn't be pleasant to have that face burner come around here," Phantasma rambled, shrugging and grinning.

"I'm sure we will. I believe we're getting closer." With that, he stood straight and turned his attention to the large organ in the room. "On a different note, I take it that's your organ?"

Phantasma brightened up, giggling madly as she floated to the organ, sitting herself down at the seat. "Yup yup! Well, sorta, anyways. Technically it's the school's and Miss Grimwood's, but she lets me play it! This is technically the music room, but I stay around here so much, it's practically my bedroom at this point!" After saying that, she began to play a small, haunting refrain on her organ. The man listened to it, smiling and enjoying the music. After a minute, she stopped and turned around, returning to laughing. "Do you play anything?"

The man merely shrugged, eyeing over the old, yet very intricate, detail of the organ. "Well, sort of. Not an organ though. Used to want to play in a band, so I learned guitar." At this point, he moved a hand out of his hoodie pocket, showing his fingers, which were very calloused and scarred. "I decided towards a different career choice when that didn't work out."

Phantasma eyed over his hands a bit before getting an idea. "Oh really? One second!" She soon got up and floated over to a large walk in closet, rummaging around. The man raised an eyebrow and watched her, curious as to what she was searching for. In a few seconds time, she came back, holding a dusty old acoustic guitar, which she quickly handed over to the detective. While it looked old, it was still in perfect condition.

After giving it a quick glance, he turned to look at the ghost girl, who was now eagerly watching him. It was clear she was expecting him to play. With a small shrug, he grinned and pulled the strap on, straightening out the guitar. He'd strum the strings a couple of times, using his other hand to tune. Once that was done, he began to play, shutting his large, owl like eyes. The song he decided to play was also a bit of a haunting refrain, with almost a Spanish feel to it. He wouldn't keep the song to simple strums and chords. He wanted to play.

He kept going for about a minute as well, stopping and looking up at the Phantasma, who soon began to giggle and applaud for him. "Wow, that was... awesome!" She fixed herself on the seat, her body facing the organ once more, but turning her head to look back towards him. "Say, wanna try and see if we can work out a duet together? Or I guess in my case, a 'boo-et?'" She laughed at her own pun, which the man followed with a wide smile.

"Sounds like a scream," He answered, giving a few idle strums to the old guitar.

__________________________________________________

"The 30th of October will work just fine, correct?"

"Like, sounds good to me. What do you think, Miss Grimwood?"

"Works perfectly for us."

The meeting was moving to a conclusion as the Colonel confirmed the date. For the most part, no one else really had anything to add, and merely observed. Thankfully, the meeting wasn't too long or boring, lasting about five minutes.

"Excellent. I will be expecting you," He concluded, standing up and offering another handshake to Shaggy, which he took.

"Sounds cool, man. Like, may the best school win!"

With a somewhat smug grin, the Colonel replied. "Don't you worry, Coach Rogers. We intend to." With a small tip of his cap, he bid the others good day and left the building, heading back to his own school. Scooby and Shaggy scratched their heads as Miss Grimwood spoke up. "Well, I'll be expecting you to whip those girls into good shape, Coach! After all, you did such a good job last time, I assume it'll be no problem."

"Yeah, Shaggy! It shouldn't a problem. They're already really talented, and with you helping, they're bound to beat that military school," Daphne concurred enthusiastically.

"I have to admit, I didn't believe it at first when you said you used to be a coach. But now that I've observed how you do it, I think it's safe to say that we all have a lot of confidence in you two and the rest of the girls," Velma added, smiling at gently at him.

"Reah, Raggy! Re got this!" Scooby said, wagging his tail as he beamed up at his best friend, who returned the smile.

"Wow, like, thanks everyone! I know we'll all do the best we can. The girls are already showing lots of improvement. Like, we'll win for sure!" He added, chuckling some.

"That's the spirit!' Freddie beamed, adding in a thumbs up for good measure.

_____________________________________________

...

I see now.

The skinny one.

He has the most experience out of everyone else.

I am quite lucky to have gazed inside of his mind.

...

But this is only the beginning for me.

I know more than before, but not enough.

Never enough.

If I want more, I must delve deeper.

But who?

...

Oh.

Perfect.

They won't suspect a thing.

I will have to wait.

It will be torturous.

I do not like waiting.

No no no no.

But it must be done.

Until then, I must wait.

...

_________________________________________________

Author's Notes: To be honest, I don't like how short I made this chapter. It took me forever to figure out any sort of direction, and even then I don't think I added in enough. Writer's block sucks, so sorry if I made you all wait for a short chapter that probably isn't written well. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy it! Leave a review on what you think of the story so far and what I could be doing better. Until then, thanks for reading my works!

[stopreadingthisanddance]

2018 top albums

Okay, so hopefully you read (& enjoyed listening to) my top EPs list, this one is a little longer, and hopefully a little prettier. They’re ranked 10 -> 1, with my honourable mentions up front here. I hope you enjoy at least some of the music I loved this year, and don’t find my writing unbearable. Once again, I’ve included spotify links for each album if and youtube links for my favourite tracks of each album. 

honourable mentions:

alison wonderland - awake/remxies

standouts: good enough & no (umru & kid froopy remix)

This was really tough for me to place, it would have likely made it onto the top 10 list had it not been for how much I loved the remix album that accompanied this album, and including both felt like cheating. Despite her trap banger roots, Alison Wonderland manages to hit that dance/cry sweet spot over and over on this project, from the manic banger Good Enough, with her gorgeous cello backed by an anxiety inducing rising bassline, to the anxious "is it good enough!?" ringing out, to hip-hop influenced High, to the big room trap banger that is Happy Place. It's got all of that and more on the base album, and the collection of remixes that were done afterward by her contemporaries managed to even further diversify the track list, while still keeping enough of the original to be recognizable. Even if you don't like electronic music, listen to No (umru & Kid Froopy Remix) and tell me that xylophone lead isn't catchy as all hell.

ross from friends - family portrait

standout: pale blue dot

A mainstay in the lo-fi house scene, Ross From Friends released his first full length project this year, and it gave everything I had hoped. Lovely, danceable grooves, ace production, and the feeling of being transported, if momentarily, to another plane of existence. If you have even the slightest inclination towards electronic music, check out Pale Blue Dot.

joji - ballads 1

standout: rip

The transition George Miller aka Filthy Frank aka joji has made throughout his young career is pretty spectacular. From absurdist comedy to the angsty, low key R&B on this project is pretty amazing, and while he certainly exhibits a lot of similar traits to the S A D B O Y aesthetic that has taken over mainstream hip-hop the last few years, he does it with enough of his own flavour that it's hard to discount that it is his. RIP and Attention are two of the most overtly sad songs I've heard in a long time, both in lyrical content, as well as production and the slurring and gravely vocal delivery. While tracks like Can't Get Over You throw in some needed dancey beats, while still maintaining that raw emotional delivery and content that defines this project so much.

top 10: 

10

jizue - room

standout: grass

I can't explain this album, I've spent the last 30 minutes attempting it, and I just can't. It's an instrumental album from Japanese group jizue that blends elements of jazz, math-rock and hardcore into...whatever this project is. I love it, but it's just the right side of complex and listenable to serve as the perfect background music, and still manage to stand on it's own. Check it out, maybe someone can explain it to me.

9

anderson .paak - oxnard

standout: brother's keeper

It took a while for Anderson .Paak to hit it big, but even back when I first heard his stuff, it was pretty apparent that it was only a matter of time before he hit it. Not only are his producer chops on display in full effect here, from rattling kicks and afro-soul influenced melodic leads, to the heavy jazz influences, all layered with a touch of 90s hip-hop. Dr. Dre helped with production and executive produced, and the influences of that era shine through heavily. Speaking of, .Paak's vocal performance is entirely different from what I had come to expect, and covers a wide array of topics, from the politically charged 6 Summers, to the sensual The Chase, that feels a lot it needs to be halfway an action scene in an 80s movie, to the savage Pusha-T feature Brother's Keeper. While .Paak himself is more a singer than rapper, his voice and flow fits the aesthetic of this project, and the brilliance of the production variety while still maintaining the feel of a cohesive project. From the all star feature list, to the frequent use of beat change-ups midway through tracks, back to front this project demands your attention.

8

rl grime - nova

standout: ucla

My first listen of this album resulted in me thinking "eh, this is just a bunch of electronic tracks", they weren't bad, but I didn't really feel it until my 3rd or 4th listen. RL Grime's ability as a producer has never been in question, and his live shows the stuff of legends. Throw into that with his yearly, highly anticipated Halloween 7 mixtape, featuring a vocal open by Shaq, he didn't need to come through with a project as diverse as this, and yet here we are. He manages to flow easily from big room trap Feel Free and Pressure, to the more housey Shrine and the emotional Atoms and the manic instrumental Rainer. It was really hard for me to pick just one favourite because of how cohesive this album has ended up feeling for me, like being taken on someone else's emotional roller coaster ride. But I've settled on the trashy, trappy R&B UCLA, where the lyrics manage to come across a little insecure, while the beat makes up for it with astounding bravado, and massive trap drops.

7

chvrches - love is dead

standout: deliverance

I've written before how vital live music events are to my enjoyment of certain genres & music acts, and if I'm being honest,  this album wouldn't be on here if I hadn't had the chance to see CHVRCHES live this year at the Commodore. It's a good album, don't get me wrong, it's got all polish of their previous two albums, and even more varied song selection with the more typical synth-pop bops with Miracle and Heaven/Hell, there's a huge change up with the moodier God's Plan and the incredibly sad and moving instrumental ii. Even Get Out, one of the lead singles from this project is laced with a lot darker subject matter and musical elements. Seeing Lauren Mayberry dance under neon lights to the intro rift of Graffiti will stick in my mind for years to come, and that feeling is what this kind of music is all about.

6

soccer mommy - clean

standout: cool

My musical tastes have been diverse for as long as I can remember, but this style of grungy, lo-fi bedroom pop-rock has never really been on my radar before. That being said, Nashville native Soccer Mommy has a lot of what I look for in music, catchy hooks, lyrics brimming with emotion and someone willing to take risks. While it's undeniable that this is far from a production masterpiece, which I don't understand in 2018 honestly, the great song writing and Sophie Allison's distinctive voice and nonchalant delivery gives me that summer feeling no matter what time of the year it is. Cool is one of my most listened to songs of the year by a long shot, with it's upbeat music and sad lyrics, it sounds like what teenage regret felt like. Scorpio Rising on the other hand, covers a lot of the same topics, but it manages to do to it in a very different way, sort of in a Slow Dance On The Inside by Taking Back Sunday kinda feel.

5

rezz - certain kind of magic

standout: teleportal

Even with my list this year being highly varied, I think this might be the least approachable album on either this or my EP list. Rezz has managed to create a cult of personality around herself in a way very few electronic musicians ever manage through her phenomenal set construction, heavy emphasis on showmanship with lights and video during her live sets, and brilliant production. Add on top of that very few artists are making this style of music anywhere close to this caliber, and you end up with a dominant force of heavy basslines and dark aesthetics. If you have ever had any interest in dubstep, be it the traditional UK variant or the trashy late 2000s-era bedroom-produced bangers, you will likely love this album. It's no surprise that deadmau5 signed her in 2016 given that her style of building up layers and layers of effects and sonic elements, only to cut them all out to isolate a heavy drop or gorgeous orchestral melody is very reminiscent of the house legend himself.

4

hinds - i dont run

standout: tester

Spanish all girl quartet came out of no where for me, but once I was into their vibe, I didn't look back. They sing in English (mostly), but their accents taint all their lyrics with just a little touch exotic flavour, giving their cacophonous musical style one more element to throw into the mix. They sort of sound like a mix of The Velvet Underground, and the Strokes, with a modern pop twist, and the fact they're women making, or more accurately, fighting the transition from care free 20s, to the reality of their 30s comes through in spades. The variety of their voices, and their writing styles gives this album a distinctly personal touch, but not so much it's impossible to relate to. This album is perfect for sitting in the sun on a lazy afternoon and letting the entire project wash over you, if I had to pick just one track though I'd go with Tester, a track about navigating complex, undefined personal relationships, and coping with it however possible.

3

let's eat grandma - im all ears

standout: it's not just me

I knew that PC Music wouldn't stay off my list entirely this year, the entire label seem to be steering pop music on the whole, and the production influences from SOPHIE fly in pretty fast on the glitchy-noisey delicious mess that is Hot Pink, the opening track. They follow that up with my favourite track of the year in It's Not Just Me, with the angsty lyrics, the way they seem to just float over the top of the beat that manages to be both groovy (dig the dance moves in the music video) and still challenge the listener with complexity and a touch of cacophony. While these two 17 year old girls from some random town in the UK might only be releasing their second project, and the lyrical content is for sure written by 17 year old girls, they show a capacity for having a vision for a track and getting it across in a truly astonishing way. They manage to blend genres, topics and feelings seemingly effortlessly, and I can't get enough of it!

2

the midnight - kids

standout: america 2

The nostalgic, synth-pop, retro-wave duo The Midnight came through with an ode to the 80s and 90s, laced with modern sensibilities. Stick these tracks over some 90s action movies, and they won't feel out of place, nor will they as your cruise into the sunset of 2018. With lyrics that are wistful for the past, and aware of the fact it will never come back, they manage to make you want to groove along, while slightly pricking that part of your brain that says "hey, is there where you thought you'd be when you were 12?". The whole project is laced with news clips from the 80s and 90s, talking about how exciting, and how terrifying the future looked. It's easy to forget even in those less connected times, sometimes all you could do was blast the stereo, drive into the night, and hold onto the best parts of your past, and try and be optimistic about the future.

1

brockhampton - iridescence

standout: tonya

Brockhampton is one of those music groups that is such a cultural phenomenon, it'll inspire kids making music in their bedrooms for a long time. No hip-hop group has made such a massive impact since Wu-Tang, and we all know they ain't nuthin' to fuck with. Both the group and each member manages to display astonishing range as they move from emotional ballads like the brilliant Tonya to bangers like New Orleans, they manage to make you want to dance to the driving basslines and clever lyrics, only to snap change to the slow and deeply emotional tracks like San Marcos. From Kevin Abstract's masterminding, to Dom's undeniably amazing bars, to the dreamy Matt Champion and the angst filled bearface, it's easy to see why this album is so diverse. What's harder to understand is how cohesive they manage to blend it all together, trappy vocal effects on top of acoustic guitar, the gospel influences, it's all mashed together into perfection. Tonya was on heavy rotation this year, with it's haunting vocals, brilliant piano melodies, and the change up it's so hard not to feel the heart that went into this project.

annnnnnnnd we’re done! I hope you listened to a shit load of good music this year, and I hope some of this resonates with you. Happy Holidays, have a good New Year, roll on 2019.

[outlanderfanfics]

Getting to Know Abby Debeaupre

This week, I interviewed another great Outlander fanfic writer, @abbydebeaupreposts!

Abby was born on the East Coast of U.S and grew up in and around New York City. She is 50% Greek and 50% Mutt, but can only (barely, she says) speak her native tongue of English. Without exactly revealing her age, she did admit that she has a playlist stuck in the 80s. She only started writing Outlander fanfics a little over a year ago. In school, she studied Political Science and Economics. Currently, she does mostly transaction work, focusing mainly on contingency planning and a lot of technical writing. For fun, Abby enjoys hiking, biking, playing tennis, reading, cooking, and watching documentaries. As a unique talent, she revealed that she can tie a cherry stem with her tongue! If she could travel through the stones, she would like to relive her life as a baby boomer or possibly go to Paris in the 1920s. She was adamant that she would not be all that adaptable to the 1740s, as she has a healthy respect for deodorant, tampons and indoor plumbing.

Keep reading to see the full Q & A.

What inspired you to start writing Outlander fanfiction?

The long droughtlander between 1 and 2. I started writing fanfic probably like everyone else --because there were some things I wanted to read that weren’t written yet. Also one of my children had a serious medical issue and needed surgery (he’s doing really well. If any parents out there need to figure out how to go about finding a peds neurosurgeon feel free to DM me). It was a hugely challenging thing to go through. I had a lot of time waiting and pacing in doctor’s offices and hospital corridors. The thing is you are still processing later on-- months later...it echoes across a lot of your life even after and there was upheaval for awhile. Anyway, I stumbled on Outlander fanfic -- perfect small snippets -- the fandom platform is a kind of shorthand that cuts through the expositional crap-- we know who the the characters are and mostly where they are going. Fics usually have regular updates so you stay interested, etc. A handful of writers in particular gave me something to look forward to, a nice escape and lovely food for thought about something other than the things happening IRL. That made a difference to me and I -- corny as this sounds--hope maybe I’ve been able to return the favor/pay it forward.

What are some of your favourite quotes that you have written?

This is a great excuse to reflect on what I have been doing so thank you for that. Let me preface this by saying that I love writing but readers make it fun, special and interesting. So I just wanted to say how enjoyable readers have made this experience. In the process of reviewing everything to try and pick out some quotes has made me realize that I did accomplish my starting goal-- I wrote some things that I wanted to read that remained unwritten and I am kind of happy with how things turned out. Here we go:   

“He kissed her as if she was the essence life itself and she kissed him as if by doing so she could bring him into the light.” --An Outlander Affair to Remember

“If my lips touch yours, Sassenach, I might no’ be able to stop. I’ve been holding heaven in my arms while you slept.” --An Outlander Affair to Remember

“Kiss me quick, all’s quiet, no one is coming.” Claire huffed as she dropped into his lap. “Aye? Well, if it ‘twas you coming, Sassenach, it certainly wouldna be quiet for long!” -- An Outlander Affair to Remember 

“I could have been content, you know...Everything changed when you came into Faith’s life.” Jamie could not remain silent. “Sassenach, I came into your life, too.” “I know. That’s it, exactly.” Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, as if the truth of the statement made her heart break. -- This is Us

“Dearest LJ, If the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach; Your best chance is with a scalpel, not a spatula!” -- This is Us

“Sassenach, if ye think that kiss’ll help me focus on something other than how much I look forward to doing it again, I must tell ye I am no’ of the same mind as you. Come here, lass,” he said as he moved in for the kill. -- Queen’s Gambit

What is your writing process when writing your fanfics? 

I very specifically choose a quote or a scene or a theme from the source material and then challenge myself to drop it on its head and slide it from the OL-verse into my fic in a way that changes its meaning, reconstructs it or reinterprets it. This is true of all my stories except perhaps the Abby After Dark Collection-- which is a little less….literary in nature. This Is Us in particular uses many influences from the book-verse (and TV show too actually) and it has resonated with readers despite the fact that I know about half of the readers haven’t read all the books. I love the fact that it appeals to both kinds of readers.

Do you write during a specific time of day? 

I work looooong hours, I have a fairly busy life with my family and friends and so I try and attend to writing a little bit every day but some days more than others.

Do you ask for input from peers? 

Not in the way you mean--I don’t have a beta and I know it shows! But my peers are beyond supportive of me. We do discuss story arcs and character development, funny plot bunnies, etc. Especially when you get the odd mean anon. They are so great in those low moments. I have been blessed with cheerleaders in the fandom from day one. A lot of people ask how can they get traction for their work and on their blogs-- here is my best advice: team up with someone or several someones--There are artists out there, GIF makers, book analysis bloggers, script nerds, BTS photo blogs, photoshop wizards- find them team up-- @smoakingwaffles started really getting traction with @annalisedemoodboards and the Polaroid series. @futurelounging was just flat out funny and caught @bonnie-wee-swordsman‘s attention. I started on AO3 and @pissedoffsoka13 found me as did @thistlekat777 and really encouraged me to come to Tumblr and then @outlanderedandoverhere drew an amazing This Is Us the fic that is my blog banner and @cantrixgrisea started much as I did posting (but fanart on AO3)-- incredible stuff--and she is so adorable and funny. These are just a few of the ways people give input-- I learn everyday from what they are up to. 

Do you edit while you write or do you use a more stream-of-consciousness approach?

I am the worst proofreader in the world-- but I edit constantly, it’s why it takes a long time between posts. 

What is your favourite genre to write and why?

I don’t have one. I write more modern AUs. I am too much of a nerd about wanting to fact check things and it’s just easier to do that with a modern world setting. The only genre I don’t think I could do are the kinds of fics written by @futurelounging and @diversemediums and @kalendraashtar-- these fantasy/futuristic/past complexities that are fantastically unique.

What has been your favourite season of the show so far and why?

Season One 1-8 because a more perfect glorious season there never was. That is not to say that I haven’t been blown away by several episodes in all three seasons-- they have their strengths and weaknesses. 

Have you read any of Diana’s books? 

All of them and many side ones as well.    

Do you have a favourite book?

ABOSAA.    

Do you read/write fanfics for any other fandom?

Until a few years ago I hadn’t heard the phrase fandom let alone… so no.

What is one random fact about you that you have never revealed on Tumblr before?

I play Texas Hold ‘Em and a mean game of Oh Hell.   

And that’s Abby. Even though I haven’t added her stories to my archive YET, you can check out her fanfiction master list on her blog.

[lightsandlostbells]

Skam France 2.4 reaction

Double episode this week! Here is the French take on Ouija, psychics, and potatoes.

Clip 1 - Romain

This is an episode where I’m definitely missing a lot of Norwegian/French context so if I’m missing something, please feel free to elaborate or correct me.

So on the one hand I enjoy the cabin episode, it’s a lot of fun, and it’s great to get a break from the main drama and just see the girls interacting and having fun together. But is it really necessary for a remake? From my non-Norwegian perspective, I thought the cabin episode/Easter special was a spooky mystery as a nod to Norway’s tradition of reading/watching crime stories around Easter, as well as structuring an episode with our main characters when they would have been off school. It seems like it was very culturally relevant to airing at that time, in that place? Of course non-Norwegian viewers also enjoy the cabin episode even without the context, but we were not the target audience for the show.

I mean, there’s not a lot in the cabin episode that’s vital to the main storyline of the season or that can’t be transported to other clips. Really only the potato conversation between Noora and Vilde seems like something that needs to stick. Everything else - Noora getting texts from William, Vilde talking and speculating about William, Eva talking about Jonas still being into her, talk of Isak’s sexuality - has already been covered or could easily be condensed or added to another scene. Like they could have fit this into Saturday clip where the girls are sleeping over at someone’s house and end up using a Ouija board, if they wanted to include that, and a Sunday clip where they’re hanging out and Manon and Daphne talk about potatoes.

IDK, I’m not saying this is bad - again I enjoy the concept of the episode - and I know the episodes have to be like <20 minutes so it might be easier to make a cabin episode than to cram the relevant parts into the rest of episode 5.

Anyway, at least this is scenic and the girls are cute. Hat game exceptionally strong.

Lol, I have no problem with bringing Kasper (Romain) into the show but if they hook up him and Alex, I’ll be kinda bummed. Of course bi girls can be with boys, but I’ve not liked how they’ve ignored her bisexuality at times when it would be relevant to the story. Plus we already have multiple on-screen het relationships and hookups and no f/f ones through any of the Skam remakes other than Alex’s one line about Clara; if they have a female character who’s into girls, I want them to finally deliver on that, you know?

At least they found a guy to play Romain who looks like he could be a spirit. I buy it.

Clip 2 - Everyone is tired of hearing about Charles

Alex giving us the guitar playing that we lacked last episode! ❤️ I love her big sparkly sweater.

Uh, that’s a straight-up Michael Myers mask. Alex, why does your grandmother have that?

Alex being 200% done with talk of Charles … relatable.

Imane and the girls teasing Daphne about hooking up with Romain was a good bit.

“We can’t talk about feminism without talking about men’s role in it” - Mmmm … I disagree … but that’s just my opinion lmao.

Oh Daphne,making it awkward between her and Imane when their dynamic was so cute just now.

Poor Alex, going from excited to exasperated in an instant when Daphne immediately decides she can use the Ouija board to ask about Charles. She thought she would be free for five minutes...

I love that she made the board herself though!

Lol, you can’t tell me that all of the other girls wouldn’t immediately get up with Imane and go to bed as well to avoid more Charles discussion.

Clip 3 - Ouija

This is a fun scene but kinda random. For instance, Alex had flirted with Lucas before but I’m not sure why it would be on her mind now… in the other scene Vilde and Eva led up to it by asking about guys, so Chris did the same.  … and kinda not sure why she doesn’t think he could be gay considering she (unlike Chris) knows about the porn on his phone. Hoping she still has a chance, I guess? (Or well, I guess her thing about it being nonsense could be her thinking he must be bi rather than gay since he’s with Sarah, but that’s not really implied.)

But I do like Manon asking about Romain and Daphne, that whole bit of teasing is fun (and you could interpret it as her wanting Daphne to move on. Though who doesn’t at this point, really.)

Emma feels less put out about the Yann situation in general than Eva was even though less time has passed between the Emma/Yann breakup. I’m not sure what to think of that. I mean, good for her, I guess?

I do really like the staging/setup of this scene, with the girls sitting around the table with the lights. That set a spooky spiritual atmosphere.

Clip 4 - Breakfast

God DAMN I would be so sick of hearing about Charles by this point. I feel Emma’s intense boredom.

I love Daphne’s fantasy about Charles coming to her in a dream like he’s in a ‘90s music video, though.

It’s pretty interesting to see how little changes in terms of what the director chooses to show can have an effect on the messages we register from a TV show. One thing Skam France needs to improve is being very, very hyper aware of those little things. 

For instance, in the original we get a shot of Vilde’s sparse plate and we get a shot of Noora noticing how little Vilde is eating. Without spelling it out for us (such as Noora saying, “Vilde, there’s not much on your plate, why don’t you take some more food?”) we can connect the dots as to why Noora offers her the bun. That’s just basic cinematic language, we almost take it for granted.  Here we don’t see Daphne’s plate or how much is on it, we don’t see Manon looking at Daphne’s plate with any kind of concerned expression. So when she offers Daphne the bread, there’s no clear connection within this scene for us to think Manon is worried about Daphne not eating. And because of that, when Daphne goes off on her gluten allergy, it comes across less as an excuse for her not eating, and could be just her rambling and making huge leaps much like she is about Charles, whereas with Vilde we can definitely pick it out as her trying to deflect questions about her not eating.

Clip 5 - Potatoes

The taxidermied animals are a nice touch for a spooky cabin, I must say.

I love that Alex decided Daphne will be the one to attack Romain, Alex will hide behind her, and Emma will hide behind Alex. Solid plan.

The potato scene is one where I don’t know how I would feel about it if I had not seen the original version.

The way it was acted and paced was not nearly as effective, in my opinion. What I adore about that scene is that how subtly the situation is handled. Noora doesn’t confront Vilde directly about her eating disorder; does it in a gentle way, one that will get through to Vilde (I love that the mention of antioxidants helping fight cancer is OK, but antioxidants helping against old skin is what really gets Vilde’s attention, and was a smart move on Noora’s part). Part of it is the pacing. I know we sometimes knock Noora’s slow delivery, but in this scene the unhurried pace absolutely works. Because Noora’s words are so slowly and calmly delivered, you can see them getting through to Vilde. You can see her turning over all these details about nutrition. All of the pauses between dialogue contain the information sinking into Vilde’s mind. And the pacing also emphasizes the extreme vulnerability of this conversation, how very careful Noora’s approach is, how Vilde maybe (possibly) (probably) realizes what’s going on and isn’t arguing or putting up resistance like she did when Noora was more direct about it at the end of S1, how despite Noora doing most of the talking, this still feels like a conversation between them. 

This version of the scene … it’s not bad and I can imagine it working, but it’s so hurriedly paced that it feels like Manon is talking at Daphne, it’s not a two-way conversation, and I don’t feel that what Manon’s saying is getting through to Daphne at the same level.

That Romain reveal, though? Excellent.

Clip 6 - “Romain” revealed

The girls are very cute huddled together and I’m liking their dialogue. It does feel more rushed though, like it’s very enjoyable but they’re flying through it just because it was in the original. Like the line about “my hijab will protect us” is very random when Imane doesn’t tie in the hijab to her psychic powers during her explanation.

Alex and Imane hugging and kissing after the reveal! ❤️

Lol they cut out Emma talking about how some of the Ouija must have been real because of Yann having feelings for her, and the irony of her saying that when Manon is getting a text from Charles about Yann hooking up with someone else. They’re downplaying that arc a lot, tbh.

I see Manon’s little smile at that text. Whatever I feel about Charles, that’s a smooth as hell text.

General Comments:

Aside from my nitpicks and wondering if this episode is at all necessary in the French version, I did have a lot of fun with this episode. The girl squad dynamic continues to be a strength of Skam France, and there was lots of cute banter and friendship. Alex in particular got many moments to shine.

As much as I love lesbian Daphne, if they’re not going that route, I would kinda be down for her hooking up with Romain in the finale, in place of Alex. You know. As a fun fling. Get her mind off Charles. Alex can find a nice girl to smooch.

Here are some English-language articles about Norwegian Easter traditions, especially the crime stories, that gave me some context on the original episode.

http://relocation.no/expat-communities/expat-resource-articles/easter-in-norway/

https://www.thelocal.no/20180329/bloody-easter-the-origins-of-norwegian-holiday-crime-fiction

https://www.visitnorway.com/media/news-from-norway/norways-mysterious-easter-tradition/

If you got this far, thank you for reading!

[light-puns]

Kiss for @nihil-remedium and the rest of their muses since I know they do your Varus as well

// Someone is painfully unaware of how many muses Birdie has. Or they know perfectly well and just want to torture me? Hard to tell, not gonna tag every single one of Birdie’s blogs just gonna link [X] this post which has a full list while also tagging. @nihil-remedium I’m going to attempt the whole list, we’ll see how far I get. 

Lux is finding it hard to breath with how tightly Cassi is coiled around her. She’d known the other’s tail was flexible, but she hadn’t expected to be nearly crushed in it. It wasn’t that it hurt, not really, it was mostly just making her dizzy. Thankfully the other didn’t seem to mind when Lux rested her head against Cassi. How she’d ended up sitting in the serpents nest of pillows was a little beyond her at the moment. It’d started out simple, something about letting Cassiopeia play in her hair and now? Lux glanced up at the other woman, eyes a little dazed. There was the softest little sound, almost like a hum from Cassi, as if she was debating something. Lux wasn’t sure what she was debating, and didn’t care either as she leaned up slightly to nuzzle under Cassiopeia’s chin. The snake stilled, but didn’t pull back even when Lux pressed feather light kisses to her throat. Was she losing her mind? Possibly. Was this a terrible idea? Most definitely. 

He didn’t look angry, as she’d thought he might. It had been a cheeky move on her part but self defense training wasn’t something she was keenly interested in. Not at least in the way Varus had planned for them. His pace was grueling, and she was reminded once again that he just liked to fight. Combat for him was fun, exciting, even if it was tiring for her. She’d tossed out a flash of light followed by tackling him to the ground. The resulting scuffle had ended with him pinning her with an almost bemused look. His expressions were always minimal, and she’d had to learn how to read the slightest change. She still didn’t get it right all the time, despite how hard she tried. 

“Sorry, just needed a break.” Maybe it was pride then, at her doing something unexpected? Lux had a habit of surprising him after all, despite his attempts to understand her. She lifted her hand to play in the strands of silver that had tumbled over his shoulder during their fight. He stilled for a moment, waiting, before relaxing into her touch. He always did that, tensed as if ready for an attack or a threatening motion before relaxing when he realized it wasn’t. 

He was about to pull back, likely to insist they pick back up where they’d left off when she stopped him. His skin was always warm under her touch but his lips were fire on hers. It had her stomach fluttering, and him freezing in place, if he put an arrow through her a few moments from now at least it’s be worth it. 

You’d think meeting a dragon would be easy for her. What with Shyvana living in Demacia. It wasn’t like she’d never seen a dragon, but she’d never seen one quite this large before. She’d also never seen one that shimmered like the stars either. The fact that he’d done nothing more than lazily spoken with her was an even stranger occurrence. He was sassy and hilarious, and she found his company quite enjoyable. Thus the parting kiss to the tip of his snoot as she promised to return had seemed entirely natural. At least until she remembered that he was a dragon and he might find it offensive. Ah well, hopefully he liked her enough not to smite her. 

Lux has rarely in her years of travel met someone shorter than her, or quite as fascinating as Orianna. The young woman has been decidedly pleasant throughout their entire conversation. She’s answered as many of Lux’s questions as she can but there just seems an overwhelming sense of loss about her. She seems confused about her place in the world, and Lux can understand that. The offer to dance is a random one, but Orianna accepts it with grace and Lux can’t help the kiss she places to the back of the other’s hand. It’s silly, it’s not her place, but she doesn’t care because it just felt right. 

The feeling of his nose pressing into her stomach has her heart fluttering in her chest. The flick of his ears indicates he’s heard the sudden increase in her heart rate. Lux forces herself to calm as she reaches out a gentle hand to rub one of Warwick’s ears. Her small hand vanishes into the fluff around it as she smiles at him gently, though he can’t see it. 

“Good boy. I brought you something.” Her voice is soft, her tone the most gentle and calming thing as she pets his ears. His breath is warm against her abdomen as he huffs against her. He can smell the meat she’s brought him, carefully devoid of blood lest he frenzy. This isn’t their first meeting, but this is always how it goes. It’s as if each time he has to acclimate himself to her scent. He’s clam today, more himself, less feral but still just as sad as he always is. She runs her other hand along his maw encouraging him to lift his head, across his cheek and into his neck ruff, all her motions slow, calming, but deliberate. There can be no fear, no trepidation, so the kiss she places on the side of his muzzle is firm, but shows no hesitance. 

“Missed you.” 

“Kayle.” Lux has dropped to the floor at the angel’s feet, exhaustion finally kicking in. She can feel the arms around her, the wings draping over her gently. Too much energy, too much effort, and yet somehow Kayle doesn’t seem to be the least bit tired as she gently lifts Lux into her arms. The tiny mage curls up easily, tucking herself small against the other woman who’s lifted her wings to shield them. There is no need really, other than the fact it makes Lux just feel safer in general. 

“Sleep.” It’s a bit of a command but Lux doesn’t mind all the same. She leans up slightly missing her mark and ending up kissing Kayle’s jaw instead, close but not quite where she was aiming. If the angel is shocked she doesn’t show it, just continues to hold the tiny mage without complaint. 

She doesn’t want to believe it, even when he stands there before her cigar between his lips and shotgun in hand. To his credit he looks just as shocked as she feels, at least in the way his eyes widen at the sight of her she perceives it as shock. Tears spring to her eyes and she drops the piece of wood to the ground next to the other member of his group. The man is unconscious and bleeding but at least he’s breathing. She holds her hands up and takes a step forward. 

“Malcom, he... I.. . I’m sorry.” He’d attacked her, pretty ladies didn’t walk alone at night in these parts. Especially not ladies of rich families, but she’d come to warn him. Her brother had picked up his trail, asked her questions about him being a member of the mafia. Lux had denied it, every word, she wouldn’t believe it. That wasn’t her Mal. He was an honest man, sweet, shy about some things, not this, never this. 

“It’s alright Lux, go on.” He puts the cigar out on a nearby wall and motions to the door with is head. Graves shouldn’t let her go, should end it quickly but he doesn’t have it in him. Doesn’t have the heart. He half expects her to flee out of the room. To run past him, and for a moment that looks like what she’s going to do. He’s got a few moments to consider his options before he’s got an armful of sobbing blonde who’s peppering his face with kisses until she finds his lips. 

“Please don’t hate me.” Her voice is a broken little whisper against his lips as he carefully moves the shotgun out of the way. Gods this was a mess he’d never expected to find himself in. 

It had started simply enough, stroking his ears had been a simple process. The soft sound of his pleasure at such menstruation, the feeling of his arms around her. Of being pulled into his lap, his hands on her hips as she’d moved her fingers through his hair. It had all seemed so natural at the time. She loved the feeling of his feathers, and Rakan had never begrudged her petting him, touching him. She wasn’t sure how it had gone from simple petting to the feeling of his nails digging into her hips and her lips on his. It had been a very strange turn of events. It was a dizzying display of lights behind her eyes, and electricity along her skin wherever his fingers touched. Really, how had it ended up like this? More importantly, why was she still kissing him, and even more than that why as he letting her? All questions she supposed she could answer later, after she’d finished drowning herself in the bird below her. 

[pippki-writes]

An Ill-Fitting Name: Snippet 5

NOTES:

Snippet 1; Snippets 2 & 3; Snippet 4

Going back in time now! Isaiah, thinking about how alone he is at present, starts thinking back on when that very much was not the case.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Vespar was his name, because he had stolen it, along with the life of the mage it had belonged to before. Vespar had been almost too easy—a paint by numbers manipulation of a self-styled loner who had mostly been shunned for his burgeoning interest in necromancy and other dark pursuits. He fell apart at the first hint of attention, let alone the first kind touch. Too easy, thought the young man who now had Vespar’s name. That had all been several months ago, and Vespar was already starting to itch for his next target. For the next name to take.

He rarely let himself spend too much time in any one name, lest he become too comfortable with it. Lest it start becoming too true. A true name holds power, and Vespar would not let anyone hold power over him if he could help it.

Power. That’s what he craved. Vespar began to work the spell to find the next closest powerful source of magic being practiced. With any luck, he’d find that magic attached to someone charming, with a name worth taking for his own.

On paper, Asmodai Fowler held regular office hours at convenient, ordinary times. In practice, most students who made the mistake of trying to seek out their TA for the chemistry wisdom he could offer found themselves lost, or missed the bus they needed to catch to get to his office hours on time, or forgot they were intending to make their way to his office at all, with the end result being Asmodai could go entire semesters with his office hour time blissfully uninterrupted by the need to answer the same questions he’d gone over at least a dozen times before.

Magic had its benefits.

He’d finally convinced his girlfriend, Vinea Villegas, of the benefits (“free time! Free time!? More free time!”) and eloquently dispelled concern over any drawbacks (“there are plenty of other grad students in this department; think of all the free food we’ll find at random little functions in that free time!”). He was still working on convincing her to trust the spells and actually leave their shared office with him during said office hours, but he did notice she had started bringing out some of her sorcery notes during that time, instead of keeping her work strictly limited to chemistry.

As much as he wanted her to come with him, he couldn’t be mad at her for taking the time to work on a little black magic spellwork—her sorcery, after all, was what kept the department from discovering that they’d been together for over half the year now. It had helped nudge funding towards their research. When it came to magic, Asmodai was raw power, and Vinea was clever finesse. They were going to accomplish such fantastic things together, and damn, he loved her for it.

For this Friday, however, all he felt like accomplishing was finding the most handsomely appointed snack table at the nearest unguarded department meeting, and relieving it of all manner of tasty cheeses and freshly sliced fruits. He gave Vinea a lingering kiss, and grabbed his jacket to head towards the humanities. Their professors could almost always be counted on for an obscenely furnished Friday afternoon spread.

Vespar admired the spread of youth before him, lounging around the quad in spite of the autumn chill, or smooth legs flowing from one side of campus to the other, by and large a steady sea of beautiful people endlessly in motion where they weren’t briefly frozen in a moment on the grass. A college campus was perfect—Vespar was the right age, just barely twenty, and had the untroubled, tousle-haired look of the kind of young man who belonged on a college campus.

The odds were in his favor that the source of magic he was looking for would be one of these pleasurable youths, but Vespar had to brace himself for the possibility that this would be another crusty old wizard, and then he’d be making some hard decisions. Let it be someone handsome, he hoped. Taking a name and killing for it was just so much more enjoyable when seduction was involved, and he simply did not want to seduce someone two, three times his own age or more. Not again, though it had been a few names since the last time...not again.

Vespar took a deep breath and focused on the spell, pinpointing that magical signature. First to see who he was dealing with, and then he’d decide on how to deal with them. He strolled slowly as he focused, hands in his pockets so that no one would see the sigils he traced with his fingers, and within about fifteen minutes his efforts were rewarded with a sharp inhale of breath and a grin.

It was someone handsome. Tall, dark, handsome, and headed toward some unknown destination with purpose. Vespar angled his own path as he walked, tracing sigils in his pockets, and set them on a collision course.

Asmodai would not have guessed he’d been focusing that hard on finding an afternoon cache of hors d’oeuvres, but he’d nearly run over some poor underclassman, and fallen down so hard himself that papers and notebooks had gone tumbling out of his own bag, shit, and now this poor little bastard he’d practically steamrollered in his hunger was helping grab papers and gather his scattered effects before the cruel wind snatched them across the quad.

“I’m so sorry,” exclaimed Asmodai, offering a hand to help pull the younger man up, “are you alright?”

“I’m fine, no really I’m fine, my fault, wasn’t paying attention,” said the younger man apologetically as he allowed Asmodai to pull him up. He squared the gathered papers and handed them back along with the other odds and ends he’d rescued. “Asmodai, right?”

“Oh shit,” said Asmodai, “you’re not one of my students, are you?”

The younger man laughed, and looked at him with warm brown eyes. “No, no. I’ve just heard about you.” He held out his hand again. “I’m Vespar.”

Names have power, and among fellow practitioners of various sorts of spellcraft that power can be felt, a hint of resonance when a true name is spoken. If you didn’t know to look for it, you might miss it as simply some ordinary human emotion, like the thrill of a crush or the sharp sting of desire. He’d felt the same thing when he’d met Vinea.

“Vespar?” Asmodai sized him up, the pale, dusty brown hair in soft, wild curls, the hint of a smile playing on his lips as he looked up and met Asmodai’s gaze, inviting. “Say, would you be interested in going to grab something to eat?”

Vespar licked his lips, eyes never leaving Asmodai.

“I’d love to.”

The name had been easy enough to glean from the things he dropped. Asmodai. He contemplated the syllables, and found the name strange but pleasing. They ducked into the nearest little campus cafe, and Vespar made a valiant effort to attempt to pay as apology, which Asmodai fended off, convinced the fault was his own. They spoke in conspiratorially low tones over chicken salad sandwiches and overpriced tea about magic—Vespar opened the conversational door, and Asmodai hissed triumphantly.

“I knew it. I knew there was something about you,” said Asmodai with a grin.

“Besides my charmingly good looks and roguish smile?” Vespar teased.

“You’ll have to meet Vinea—my girlfriend—she does magic too,” Asmodai continued excitedly. “We thought we were the only ones on campus.”

A girlfriend too? This would be a most exquisite challenge. Vespar took a sip of his tea, and couldn’t help licking his lips again at the thought of who he might conquer along with the handsome man before him.

“I would love to meet her.”

They found Vinea leaving the hallway near the chemistry labs, tucking a couple of vials in her bag as she walked.

“Vinea!” Asmodai ran over to her, whispering in her ear, as Vespar strolled leisurely down the hallway towards the two of them. What a beautiful matched set, thought Vespar. Vinea was shorter than Asmodai, and perhaps a bit taller than Vespar, with wavy dark hair pulled up in a ponytail, accentuating her thin, lovely neck. A weaker man than Vespar would have been forced to look away at the sight of them, but Vespar drank them in, steeled with the conviction of knowing, in due time, he would have them both.

Vespar couldn’t hear what Asmodai was saying, but noted with amusement as Asmodai wiggled his fingers for emphasis in what had to have been a hand gesture meant to indicate magic. Vinea quirked an eyebrow, looking Vespar up and down with obvious interest. Vespar approached and offered his hand to her.

“My name is Vespar. You must be the wonderful Vinea he’s told me so much about. I understand we three have something of a shared hobby.”

Vinea shook his hand firmly. “So I hear,” she replied. “Why don’t you come have dinner with us tonight, and we can discuss it further?”

Vespar held Vinea’s gaze, looked over to Asmodai, and then slowly back to Vinea, his face full of the promise of shared mischief to which they all would be invited. “Oh Vinea. I would love to.”

Vespar was in no hurry. Many people had fallen in love with him before, and the likes of Asmodai and Vinea would not be the last. He started slow, the first dinner spent talking late into the night about magic and listening to the two of them go off on their studies of chemistry and its relation to magic and alchemy, striking rich veins of shared humor and laughing together until they cried. The first dinner turned into an invitation for a second, became a standing weekly dinner, became twice weekly. And as far away as Vespar lived from their apartment (surely it was far, they insisted on him texting when he got back to his own place, and that was usually almost an hour later, shame he didn’t know a good teleportation spell), it quickly became accepted that Vespar would just spend the night in the extra bedroom, when it got too late. Vespar would come early on dinner nights, and help Asmodai prepare the ingredients while Vinea spun out some new thought or theory for the two of them to listen to, or just listen to her play the little piano that had come with the apartment in pleasing melodies while they chopped vegetables together in the close quarters of the kitchen.

They enjoyed having Vespar around. Asmodai and Vinea never questioned the extent to which he was slowly integrating himself into their lives. They couldn’t even remember which of them suggested to the other first that they ask Vespar to simply move in with them. They had a spare bedroom, after all, that he practically already lived in two, sometimes three, sometimes four nights a week. Why not make it official?

Vespar smiled and clapped his hands together.

“Oh, I would love to!”

It was absolutely critical, thought Vespar with satisfaction, Vinea writhing beneath him, Asmodai behind with hands roaming across his chest, to start with both of them at once. He’d built up the tension equally over the past couple weeks until it was clear he had no intention of driving them apart, but bringing them together, with him, the sooner the better. Living together helped build up the level of intimacy and physicality Vespar had cultivated in their interactions. Finally, days of dropped hints were gathered with interest after a few full glasses of wine late one Friday night, and it wasn’t long until the three of them found themselves only a little tipsy, but bold enough to act on the heady desire Vespar had so expertly crafted.

The morning after, that was the delicate part. That was when the whole enterprise was in danger of being dismissed as drunken indiscretion, and Vespar was not interested in the three of them not screwing around more. Many, many times more. This was not a process to be rushed. He made sure the second time, in the warm and sober light of morning, was even better than the first.

First, establish trust among the three of them as a unit. Done. As they settled into this new dynamic, the realities of the graduate student commitments of Asmodai and Vinea meant that it wasn’t always feasible for all three of them to be present when they wanted to fool around. Vespar didn’t begrudge Asmodai and Vinea having a go without him, and likewise neither Asmodai nor Vinea had a problem with the other sleeping with Vespar alone, when the schedules just didn’t line up. It was just practical.

Vespar noticed and kept track of every little detail he could. The positively animal way Asmodai had about him, the guttural noises he would make when he was nearly mad with desire. The way Vinea would arch her head back, her neck exposed and just begging to be grabbed when she was close to coming. The deeply hidden fear Asmodai had that Vinea was too clever for him. The irrational worry Vinea harbored that Asmodai would stop loving her. The fondness on Asmodai’s face when he would come home and lay eyes on Vespar lounging on the couch. The hesitating way Vinea would trust him with little confessions, because she needed to submit to the inescapable desire to be known.

They both loved him dearly. They loved how Vespar made them feel, physically, emotionally. And any insecurities? They kept these to themselves, an imperfection to be concealed, because they didn’t want to ruin what this was. And Vespar knew and delighted in the slow-building rot they each harbored inside, helplessly in love.

All good things must come to an end, thought Vespar as his hands closed around Vinea’s neck, and it was important to get while the getting was good. She arched beneath him, her last words gasped on the edge—“Oh, oh Vespar, I love you”—oblivious to the fact that Vespar had Asmodai magically bound and concealed against the wall, oblivious to him sobbing, oblivious to the mad glint in Vespar’s eyes as they both came and he killed her. The choking, the light draining from her eyes, Vespar panting and laughing. This was merely foreplay. Bound against the wall, and now lowered to the floor, Asmodai was the main event.

Vespar traced sigils, lowering himself onto Asmodai, shuddering with pleasure at the culmination of these many months. A new name, soon to be his. He relished the look in Asmodai’s eyes, fear and horror, pain and anguish, and the fight against the sheer physical pleasure and the love he’d felt for Vespar. His name, his power, his heart, Asmodai would be completely his. Vespar stole a kiss, bit Asmodai’s tongue until he’d drawn enough blood to seal the sigil, and took his time taking everything he wanted.

Magic had its benefits. Two grad students missing, never found. Grad student life was hard—perhaps they were too ashamed to formally drop out. Never heard from again, quite a shame.

He licked the blood off his lips, off his fingers, before lazily running a hand through his curls. Asmodai was his name, because he’d stolen it along with the life of the wizard it had belonged to before.

- NEXT SNIPPET -

[polyputthekettleon]

Month 1 on HRT Round Up Post

It's been one month since D started HRT! There have been some really cool things happening, along with the occasional big and little bumps (lots more on those in other posts). Based on what I've read, her body has responded VERY quickly in comparison to many other people's experiences. For what it's worth, she's in her mid-thirties and had a pre-HRT testosterone level of around 300, and has only been taking estradiol, not an anti-androgen. Additionally, in case it helps clarify things, she and I are polyamorous, I am very sexually and physically expressive with my partners and having a lot of sex and touch in my life is important to me, and I'm about a 2.5 on the Kinsey scale (I can feel sexual attraction to people across the gender spectrum, though I lean a bit more androphilic than gynephilic). Also, my emotional experience of this past month was incredibly heightened, thanks to my anxiety running out of control (so much so that I'm now taking pills for it, phew!), and the stuff that felt like HUUUGE problems for me may be far less of a huge deal for other people.

Month 1 On Estrogen

Week 1

The night she got her prescription was pure joy. The clinic she went to practices informed consent for hormone therapy, and in my partner's case that resulted in her only having to go to two appointments -- one initial consultation so her provider could order lab work to make sure she was healthy (she made sure to fast the morning prior to her appointment, so she could get her blood work done right away!), and then a few days later, an appointment to make a treatment plan and get her prescription. She declined an anti-androgen to start and made a plan with her provider for her to take 2mg of estradiol daily. We walked out of that appointment with her *bouncing* all the way to the car because she was so excited, picked her prescription from the pharmacy the moment it was available, and she took the pill while we were still in the drug store's parking lot. I have never seen her so happy and at peace than after she took that first pill. Seriously -- in the face of such beautiful, sublime JOY, any lingering anxiety I had been feeling over the changes that these pills might cause and what those changes could mean for my relationship with her dissolved faster than that blue tablet under her tongue (at least for the next few days). She was euphoric, and I rose right with her.

After 3-4 days, she would feel warm and tingly and extra cuddly starting about half an hour after she took her pill every morning, and her nipples were feeling more sensitive. She also described feeling like she had more emotional energy and generally just feeling very happy, and characterized it as her brain going "NOM NOM NOM NOM ESTROGEN," as it finally received the hormone that had been missing. It was so exciting and fulfilling for me to get to witness her joy, and we shared some *really* enjoyable touch and sex during this phase. In one I will say, in one encounter, she described her skin as feeling "on fire," and pretty much everywhere I touched or kissed made her gasp and moan. It did not suck, AT ALL. Something else that had started to shift prior to HRT became really significant and noticeable to me at this point (I'm including it because aspects of it may have been impacted by her hormones changing): she became less interested in penis-in-vagina penetrative sex (she uses different terms for her genitals, but I'm using penis here for clarity), and started preferring to orgasm under her own stimulation, or just skip the orgasm entirely (there were lots of "mini orgasms," though, and those were super fun). As someone who gains a lot of pleasure and satisfaction from being an active participant in my partners' orgasms, and who has felt a LOT of anxiety over how HRT was going to impact my sexual connection with my partner, this change was hard for me to sit with, and I struggled to feel sexually connected with her as this became more commonplace over the course of the week (pre-HRT and during this first week, we tended to have sex at least every other day, sometimes a couple of times a day). Additionally, in the back of my mind, I was worried about what things would look like if/when she lost her sex drive, whether it would come back, and how I would feel if penis-in-vagina sex entirely stopped being an option for her and me. It had always been something she and I enjoyed immensely with each other, and I felt SCARED that without that particular flavor of interaction, our connection would suffer. This was quite different from what I observed in her response to the possibility of no longer getting erections -- she stated that while she would prefer to still be able to become and stay erect, she was "along for the ride" wherever the hormones would take her.

Within 7 days, her energy really started to dip, and I noticed that she was no longer waking up with erections the way she had prior to taking HRT. She started splitting her pills in half so she got some estrogen in the morning and some in the middle of the day, which helped with her energy levels somewhat, but she still slumped HARD whenever the estradiol had been fully processed by her body, and she looked and acted absolutely exhausted and out of fuel at night.

Week 2

By 10 days, her sex drive was nil and her energy was super low between estradiol doses. This coincided (unsurprisingly) with her not experiencing any erections and also having zero desire to receive touch in a sexual context. The lack of energy and sexual desire also reduced her interest in giving touch, sexual or otherwise. This hit me hard: between her exhaustion and the inaccessibility of one of our favorite ways to connect, I was hurting and missing my person, a lot. I also really struggling to feel desired in my relationship with her, since she literally wasn't feeling desire, even when she very considerately provided occasional sexual stimulation to me (and expressed her enjoyment at seeing me enjoy that stimulation). It was very challenging for me to attempt to receive from a partner who didn't want anything given back when previously in our relationship sex had always been very much about an exchange of pleasure, and the experience brought up a lot of feelings of shame on my end. This week was HARD to get through, and I credit therapy, friends (including folks on here), and my very lovely other partners as the support that helped me get through without directing all my anxiety her way and/or remaining in a near-constant state of crying (though there was a fair amount of that, too). For her sex drive vanish so soon after starting hormones, and for it to feel so completely gone felt VERY disorienting to me, and it kicked off a fresh wave of fear and feeling like I was losing my partner*. I found out later that she was missing our sexual connection too, and honestly, it felt really, really good to hear that I wasn't alone in feeling frustrated about the absence of her sex drive - I wish I had asked her sooner and hadn't tried to bury my feelings. [* For the record, before someone goes off in the comments about it: I know that I have not lost the person who is my partner, and that she is living more as herself than ever before, and that this is a beautiful, happy thing that is happening in her life. I know, and I am ecstatic for her. HOWEVER, grieving the loss of the male persona I thought was my partner for two years is a feeling that I have been working with, and if there's anything that years of going to lots and lots and LOTS of therapy have taught me (heh, I must be in my 30s!), it's that it's important for me to feel and acknowledge ALL of my emotions without judging myself for having them or attempting to censor them, so that I can actually process stuff and not get stuck. Thanks for coming to my TED talk!]

Somewhere between the 2- and 3-week mark, she reached out to her doctor and asked if she could increase her estradiol dose because her energy was so incredibly low and was impacting her work and her ability to show up for her kids. The doctor agreed and increased her prescription to 4mg a day. She tried just taking two whole pills, one in the morning and one in the middle of the day, instead of continuing to split them, but she found that breaking the estradiol up into 4 doses of 1mg apiece and spreading her doses 3-4 hours apart helped her energy and mood feel the most stable (note: there are 1mg estradiol tablets out there, for those who don't want to mess with splitting their pills). The increase in estrogen did indeed improve her energy levels -- it also made her INCREDIBLY emotionally volatile for a few days after increasing her dose. She described the feeling as wanting to cry and kill everyone at the same time. It reminded me of the hormone drop I experienced in the days after I gave birth, and her other partner compared it to her own cis experience of PMS mood swings. Once my partner's body adjusted to the new level of estrogen, the random crying spells stopped, BUT she has expressed that it's now just generally easier for her to cry, and I've observed that she gets teary more often these days than before she started HRT. Another thing she noticed at this point is her muscle strength starting to lessen, which I understand felt bittersweet for her. Since deciding to start HRT, she's been working to reframe muscle loss as not being something that's going to keep her from doing the stuff that she enjoys (woodworking and blacksmithing, in her case), but instead being something that may ask her to learn a different approach to some of her work. That reframe has seemed to be empowering and reduced the feeling of HRT's effects meaning a choice between transitioning in the way that feels best to her and her being able to pursue her passions. One more thing: somewhere around this point, I noticed a shift in her body's smell. She started to smell sweeter on her skin. Just a subtle note, but definitely a change.

Week 3

Around the beginning of Week 3, her sex drive started to make an appearance again, along with occasional erections. She had been taking Cialis prior to starting HRT, but has since stopped, so it isn't clear how much of the change in the behavior of her erections is due to her antidepressant's side-effects no longer being countered by ED medication, and how much is due to lower testosterone levels. That said, her penis is now less likely to become fully erect, and her erections seem more easily impacted by her emotional state than before; if she's feeling really, really good they tend to happen, but a shift in mood can make her penis flaccid very quickly. Her feeling aroused also doesn't always equate to her getting or sustaining an erection anymore, which is more similar to my experience of how cis clitorises tend to behave. I felt a HUGE sense of relief when her sex drive returned, and my perception is that she was quite happy about it as well. That said, while she has a sex drive again, it's different than it was before - her libido seems to be lower (though of course, this could also be for non-hormonal reasons), and instead of having sex 3-6 times a week, we're having sex 1-2 times a week (if a two-week sample size is enough to judge by, and it might be higher if we saw each other every day, but alas, the perils of polyamory 🤷🏻). While she and I have continued to enjoy penetrative sex sometimes, that way of interacting is making up a smaller portion of our sex life than before. I'm enjoying, and she says she is also enjoying, me approaching her body more like how I approach sexual interactions with cis female partners --- lots more touch and kisses and nibbles all over her body, making sure to emphasize her breasts and nipples with both my hands and mouth, and lots of oral and manual stimulation on her entire pelvic/genital/upper thigh region, anywhere that seems to feel good. Her stomach and neck/back areas started to become more sensitive during this time as well. It's been really exciting to explore and find new spots to touch and play with on her body.

Also by Week 3, it became undeniable: her breasts started to grow!! Just teeny ones, but it became clear that there is more fat there than there was before, and they hang like breasts do when she lays on her side (in their gorgeous teeny tiny way). They also started hurting more; prior to this week her breast tissue been sensitive and a little sore, by this point they felt sore to brush up against or tap on them. Righty started out bigger than Lefty, but Lefty started to hurt too (and spoiler alert: by Week 4 Lefty showed more growth). I've been avoiding putting too much pressure on them, and I'm being extra careful when I handle her breasts and nipples. Another change: one day, I noticed that her skin on her back had become softer to the touch, as well, which was kind of the coolest, most magical thing for me. For whatever reason, I hadn't believed the thing about estrogen making skin softer, but sure as hell, there the proof was right under my fingertips, super soft skin. It was WILD. One more thing that happened this week: her ejaculate tasted sweet. Especially her pre-cum, which was sweet like sugar. Her cum was less tangy than usual, but not really to the point of the candy-sweet that I've heard some people talk about. Still a definite different flavor -- and when she came back into the bedroom after cleaning up post-sex, she said it smelled different as well.

Week 4

This past week (Week 4), she shared that me running my hand over the bottom of her ribs on her stomach was feeling particularly erotic to her, which is something that previously didn't do anything pleasurable for her, and that the physical sensations of touch in her genital area and when she orgasms have changed, becoming more spread out. Orgasms are definitely seeming to be rarer than they were pre-HRT, but she also seems to be feeling more readily sated with sensation without orgasm. I am also adjusting -- honestly, it's so nice to have ANY sex back in our relationship, I am just happy that it's happening when it happens!! She also noted that when she ejaculates, the little globules in her cum that she's used to seeing aren't there. Her breasts have also progressed all the way to SORE now, and she can fill out the cups of a AA bra she bought. I can feel the difference on her chest; there is a distinct dip between her breasts that used to be much smaller, and I love running my hands (LIGHTLY) all over her chest. Finally, at the very end of this week, I realized with absolute delight and surprise (as well as some passing disorientation weirdness, because her face looked different than the face I'm used to seeing) that I could actually see something different about her cheeks. They really are looking fuller and softer, just ever so slightly. And she says it seems like the circles under her eyes have lessened a bit. Maybe it's the increase in nutrient-rich food she eating and the improved sleep she's been getting -- or maybe it's the subcutaneous fat shifting around courtesy of estrogen. Or both! Either way, it felt really cool that when I saw a FaceApp feminized picture of her that she made way back at the beginning of her gender exploration journey last year, I had to do a double-take before I concluded it wasn't just her with a particular make-up look on or something. It's not so much that she looks exactly like that image (though they do have a lot in common); it's more that I see the HER in her face, instead of the HIM I used to see, and judging from HRT's effects so far, I am certain that more and more people will be able to see her too. And I am so very excited to be there for it.

[pixelproductions]

Chatbot Best Practices: How to Make Your Chatbot & Website Work Together

Replicating the human process in website design is key to converting visitors and understanding chatbot best practices is essential.

Image Source: Loyalty Apps

Is your company currently doing business online?

Are you curious to know how you can incorporate chatbots on your website?

The impact of artificial intelligence and machine learning is spreading across industries. Among these modern technologies, chatbots are arguably, the most universally adaptable application for businesses with an online presence.

In this era, companies are online feverishly trying to find the secret sauce to increase their market share. One thing that has been known to build brand image is to offer live customer service on your website. The live chat feature has resulted in visitor confidence in a brand’s ability to service their needs. The chatbot is the automated version of the live chat. Let’s take a closer look at ways you can use chatbots to enhance your website’s user experience.

How Chatbots Work

Image via Wizeline

Chatbots are computer programs that mimic human-to-human interactions. The simulation of authentic human communication allows the user to get a similar experience to a live human chat with a customer service representative. Natural language processing (NLP) is the technology used by many of these bots to hold text conversations in a way that closely resembles organic human interaction.

There are three specific types of chatbots:

Rule-Based Bots

Intellectually-Independent Bots

AI-Powered Bots

Rule-Based Bots

Rule-based chatbots are the simplest form of this technology. Users interact with these bots by accessing pre-determined answers programmed into the application. The relevant answers are selected by choosing a series of prompts that lead to the answer that the user is looking for. The rules and answers are pre-defined, and the multiple-layer process results in a slower journey to customer solutions.

This style of bot is excellent at qualifying prospective leads. The application asks questions of the user, and the user selects the appropriate answer by clicking the correct button. The input is analyzed, and the relevant response is given. However, if there is a situation that is more involved and detailed, the rule-based approach is not the best solution.

Intellectually-Independent Bots

Intellectually-independent chatbots use machine learning (ML), which is a technology that aids in the bot’s process of learning. ML enables applications to actually learn by data gathering, data analysis, and pattern recognition to determine the correct response with little or no human interference.

Intellectually-independent chatbots are programmed to spot specific keywords and phrases that trigger the proper response. Over time, the chatbot’s understanding and accuracy develops. In other words, these applications learn from their customer interactions.

AI-Powered Bots

With artificial intelligence-powered chatbots, the best elements of rule-based and intellectually-independent chatbot technology. Artificial intelligence describes technologies that simulate human intelligence. This facet of computer technology endeavors to help applications and machines process in a manner that is nearly indistinguishable to human thought.

Chatbots powered by AI understand natural language, but also have a pre-determined ensure that the customer’s issue is addressed. These bots remember the customer’s preferences and the context of the interaction. These types of chatbots can effortlessly skip from random topics with a full understanding of the subject matter.

Chatbot Uses

There are a variety of ways that chatbots can be used to enrich the user experience (UX) on your website. More than just supplemental custom service technology, chatbots can assist your site visitors in a variety of ways, while also driving sales.  You should find the right chatbot to fit your marketing needs. The following methods show examples of how chatbots can be implemented on your website.  

Welcome Bot

The visitor’s first impression of a website is decided within moments of their arrival. The New-user welcome chatbot is used to roll out the red carpet for your new visitors. It is crucial that you let your prospects know that they are appreciated and acknowledged. This type of bot can be used to address any initial questions or concerns the customer might have.

Offer Recommendation Bot

Many online shoppers are uncomfortable shopping online because the eCommerce world is often devoid of the personal experience that comes from shopping in an actual store. Offer recommendation bots help add that personal touch that is required to ease the mind and make the online experience more enjoyable. This type of bot gives suggestions to shoppers based on their demographic and interest.

Price Page Bot

When it comes to sales, the price page is quite possibly the most significant page. Customers are likely to have some questions that need clarification before making their purchase. The bot on this page can be geared towards FAQs that are common among shoppers before completing their purchases.

Customer Care Bot

Customers support is the fundamental reason that chatbots were created. Customer service representatives are often tasked with answering the same questions repeatedly by site visitors. These questions are easily answered by chatbots by being programmed with the proper responses to these FAQs.

Exit Bot

The exit-intent bot is used to stop users from exiting the website before making a purchase. As the user navigates the mouse toward the exit button at the corner of the window, the chatbot comes in to make sure that the customer gets the information they need to complete a sale or educate themselves about what you are offering.

Conclusion

There are a few ways to show that you care about informing your prospects and customers than using live chats. Chatbots give your visitors 24-hour access to the answers they require. You can also use the power of chatbots to present special offers to your visitors. How can you use chatbot technology to build your brand and increase your company’s market share?

[i-know-you-can]

Love to Hate You - Chapter 5

Summary: AU - There is something about the way she looks at him. The way her cheeks flush and her beautiful green eyes sparkle. Like she wants to wrap her hands around his neck and strangle him, but she thinks better of it. It amuses him like nothing else. No other woman has been able to fire him up like Betty Cooper. And yet he hates her.

Rated: T

Chapters: 5/11

A/N: Big thank you to everyone who commented on the previous chapter, it really brought a smile to my face and I had so much fun reading through your comments. Hopefully this chapter will be enjoyable for you as well.

read on AO3

read on fanfiction.net

Betty gasps when his teeth pull on the skin of her neck, the pain surprising her in the best way possible. He quickly soothes it with a kiss, while his hands continue to roam her body and she bites back a moan, not wanting him to know just how much she's enjoying what he's doing. How much she wants him. Needs him.

He continues, pressing sloppy wet kisses all over her chest, but the movement of his fingers is anything but sloppy, finding all the right places to touch to make her shudder under him. In any other situation she would hate that he has so much control over her. But not now.

“I still hate you,” he mutters into the crook of her neck matter-of-factly, but she doesn’t care what he thinks of her. Not as long as he continues whatever it is that he’s doing with his hands that feels so good. She’s close. So damn close.

“Good.” She manages to squeeze the word between the gasps and moans that grow more frequent with his every stroke. She's not holding back anymore, finding it too hard and too pointless. She can't hide the way her body reacts to him and she doesn't want to. Especially when he seems to be doing everything he can to make her yell his name by the end. “’Cause I hate you too.”

 Betty gasps and wakes up with a startle, a trickle of sweat running down her back. It’s been two weeks since the little moment of passion she and Jughead shared in the kitchen, but the more she tries to forget it, the more it gets burned into her memory. This was not the first and she suspects not the last dream like this. Each of them slightly different, but they all feel so real and make her wake up covered in sweat and with an ache between her thighs that can’t be satisfied by her alone. Just one more reason for her to hate Jughead Jones.

At work they have been doing everything they can to avoid each other. Betty brings enough food and caffeine with her to be able to get through the day without entering the room where it all happened. They are both avoiding eye contact whenever they pass each other, but Betty is pretty sure she’s felt him watching her on more than one occasion. Not that she hopes he’s dreaming about her the same way she does about him, but she hopes that his decision to kiss her is torturing him at least as much as it does her.

Ever since his moment of weakness Jughead has been trying to occupy himself with work to get his mind of the blonde sitting at the opposite side of the office. He isn't all that successful considering he occasionally catches himself staring at her across the room, letting his mind wander to all the things he would do if he ever got the opportunity to touch her like that again. As much as he's trying to force those images out of his mind and remind himself of all the reasons why he hates her, most of which are quite trivial and only based on his insecurities if he's being completely honest, he still can't forget how good it felt when she was running her hand through his hair and her thighs were squeezing his hips. He gives himself a mental slap and tries to come back to work.

Thankfully he has been getting a surprising amount of emails in the past week, all concerning a restaurant in Brooklyn he had yet to visit. According to his research it has recently gotten a new owner, but also a new set of problems. Several people have reported to him terrible cases of food poisoning. Their reactions ranging from the more common stomach issues to people ending up in a hospital. Despite all of this, the restaurant seems to have a clean record and seems to have passed the health inspection with flying colors.

While Jughead usually prefers to keep his articles simple, focusing on his own experience rather than what other people seem to be saying, the emails coming to his inbox more and more frequently peek his interest. He knows it wouldn't be the right thing to ignore such a serious issue. Especially as his writing could have a serious impact on the situation. But it isn't exactly his area of expertise and he’s afraid there isn’t much he can do on his own.

That's why he ends up in his boss' office, telling him about the whole issue and asking him if there is someone in the office he can hook him up with to help with the investigation. Mr. Weatherbee, all happy considering an article like that could bring a lot of traffic to their website, agrees and promises Jughead to find someone to help him as soon as possible.

It’s barely twenty-four hours after Jughead’s discussion with Weatherbee when Betty strolls to his desk, saying she’ll be the one helping him with his article.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Jughead exclaims, running his hands across his face. “Out of all the people here it has to be you to work with me on this article.”

When Mr. Weatherbee called Betty to his office with an offer to help with an article that could for once actually help people, she didn't ask for details before agreeing. She has been writing silly clickbait articles and occasional interviews for months, but what she's wanted ever since high school was to do some actual investigative journalism. When he told her she would be working alongside Jughead, her smile quickly disappeared, but her determination didn’t waver.

“It’s not like I won the lottery with you.” Betty rolls her eyes. She is definitely not happy that she and Jughead are supposed to work together, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to finally do some investigative work. “But I’m not gonna let you ruin this opportunity for me. So throw your insults and stupid jokes at me all you want. I’m not backing out.”

Jughead has to admit that she is determined and a very small part of him admires it. Finds it hot even. Seeing her fight for what she wants for once. But it certainly doesn’t make him feel happy about having to cooperate with her. Especially since they haven't spoken a word to each other since the moment he stormed out of the kitchen after their little make out. The one he initiated, but she gladly participated in. Or did she?

Jughead has been desperate to know how she felt about it. He felt chemistry between them he has never experienced with anyone else. Though lately he didn’t have much to compare it too, so his sex deprived body might not be the most reliable judge when it came to sexual chemistry. He suspects Betty has been avoiding him because she is either embarassed or disgusted.  “This never happened,” he said and maybe she decided it was better to pretend it didn't. How stupid was he to think that pretending it never happened would actually make him forget it? He would never forget about it. But he would have to learn to work alongside Betty and act like he did. Since that was exactly what she was doing.

“Okay. Whatever.” He throws his arms in the air resignedly. “But it's my article, so we're gonna do things on my terms.”

Over the course of the next couple of days they work side by side on their article, trying to gather more information about the restaurant, its owner and trying to get in touch with the people who fell ill because of the food. It's a slow tedious process and their working sessions usually end with Betty calling him an asshole and storming out, while Jughead mutters insults of his own. But somehow their relationship improves and they are no longer just scowling at each other every chance they get. They are working towards a common goal which makes them set their differences aside at least for a little while. However, they're both quickly getting frustrated when they make little progress. They've contacted the authorities responsible for the hygiene and safety of the restaurant, but they claim everything is in perfect order and there is nothing to worry about.

 “I think we need to go there ourselves,” Betty says one day when she and Jughead meet again to compare their progress, concluding there is none. Most of the people who got food poisoning never saw a doctor about it and those who ended up in the hospital didn't show anything unusual on their test results. At least not anything that could be traced back to the food they ate.

“And do what, get ourselves poisoned as well?” Jughead asks bitterly. He has been putting way more time into this article than he first expected, yet the results were frustratingly low.

“No, dumbass.” Betty rolls her eyes. “We need to take a look around, take some food samples with us or something. Have you never seen a detective show in your life?”

“I think you may have seen too many,” Jughead scoffs, but he knows there is not much they can do from the inside of their office. The information they have gathered from other people doesn't seem to be enough to draw any conclusion and emails from random customers are not exactly a reliable source either. “But okay. We could use to take a look at the place ourselves,” he agrees after a moment of consideration. “I'll try to hook us up with someone who can get the food samples tested.”

“Great.” Betty claps her hands excitedly. She knows it's unlikely that they will find something, but it's better than staying inside and hoping for evidence to come their way on its own. She will do anything to solve this case. Even if it means going to dinner with Jughead.

[ceaac]

Why I like the Past

Apr 16th, 2020

I like history – or at least I enjoy a  particular set of activities in my mind of trying to piece together my own understanding of a historical order (whereby sensibilities can be drawn into question) of events. This has led me to look for  the implications of history on the way people lived at given times. I try and search around for a fundamental property of our collective relationship.

History is a guide, a pointer to bits of events; I am born – start school – make a friend – have various birthdays – I am now at my present event; typing on the computer at 00:17am.

Pretend there is an alternate reality and this is our future; a black hole whirls in ending all life on Earth – the aliens studying us, fly away.

‘Ending all life on Earth’ is used to represent an end of human history so we can imagine it as a big history book, start to finish. The aliens are there to illustrate an outside perspective; an alien perspective. When the aliens open this book they can jump into it at any point. They could read about pre-history and understand early tribal communities, delve into the parts about kingdoms and empires, learn the developments of societies across the world; at any and all points these events took place they could read about it and piece together a picture of humanity.

They may notice widespread ramifications of an event. They may notice the relationships of smaller events, which seamlessly lead up to the same thing.

Imagine a little further that these aliens also had the auto-biographies of every individual person who ever lived. It would be an extensive collection. Then imagine trying to study all the relationships between all the events (large and small) ever recorded. You might go a little crazy, because what is being illustrated is a super-complex interwoven picture of a particular set of activities connected to the circumstances of another’s set of activities, and another’s and so on and so forth. We could go further and suggest that these aliens have video footage of every blade of grass, bacteria, giraffe, mollusc, fish and all the animals that ever lived on Earth. The aliens could even have complex 3.D maps of every point that the atoms of the Earth have traveled throughout this time span, and begin to study the relationships of it all.

Let’s step back for now, and look at what there is; the history books that any one person can delve into at any one lifetime. Comparatively to the aliens, its a slim read �� between each person their reading is proportional between other readings. Simply put we can look at events but never the complete picture.

My knowledge of history is a slice. Not least because I haven’t read all the books and T.V. programmes of it all. The same is true for my knowledge of science, art, and in fact everything considered a knowledge for anything – I have access to perpetual slithers. What is knowledge? Knowledge is something refereed and when one come across knowledge it is remembered. When we are born do we know nothing? A great deal of us seem to know exactly how to use our bodily functions; our bodies know how to live. It is the body we use first to engage in the world to understand its properties; a baby’s limbs kick and jerk in order to sense the world. With the body it senses soft and hard qualities of things, making connections with ears and eyes, touch is continuously reaching for our mothers tit or the history book. The body helps us connect to the world, so to me the body is instrumental to the thing of knowledge. Bodies have a genetic history towards human biology, and more presently; you and me. The relationship between the body and knowledge is a deep one.

The process of evolution is on-going and happens as a random occurrence on the individual level; each body (and all the atoms that makeup the genes inside it) evolve (requiring and acquiring knowledge in doing so) with random genetic mutation into environments to be life. Little by little all the animals have found a fit in a moment in time and their understanding in any environment as we continually evolve. Into what, or would it be inter-sectingly through what?

I’m not sure exactly but whatever knowledge really is it needs the body to remember it. As a topic, history is an interest of mine but more accurately all topics are an interest of mine but in varying proportions in time. It just so happens I find a heightened sense of enjoyment and interest with the local and world history my body has access to. So what is it about history that I felt to write this of it?

As I explore the avenues of my mind; I can refer to set of images. Non of these histories are true or false. For me what history offers are bits of information I can pull into view (wound up with other bits in parallel within my ordered pre-conceptions) as I search for another way forwards towards ‘inventive’ ideas. In creative terms; I enjoy mixing up my pasts. However if that is an angle to inform a practice, it must be kept ‘up-to-date’ - to be ‘up-to-date’ of knowledge my body only has access to, I have to choose the readings I do. And in choosing what history to read:

As mentioned I enjoy a certain view of history and piecing together my own chronological understanding of events and the social implications with our relationship to one another. And my view of history is shrouded by the closest (UK elections) and/or most intense (K-T extinction) of events; until my present. It upsets me that more than likely the histories of our earliest past and of the first emerging communities and societies, are hidden only in the fragments of our modern age.

How do we get there? Experimental archaeology is a very interesting field; exposing present-day experimenters to conditions set by their estimations of the past; connections are found. Walking the body through working the structural limitations of building mud houses or testing the limits of replicated armour, archaeologist piece ever finely the historical record. It is a field that overlaps others. Could it be occasionally the archaeologist feels themselves somehow misplaced in one given situation of their experiment?

I can by no means provide any scientific answer, but I can point you to my artistic perspective; by reading history I base my understanding of a creativity I enjoy. Trying to go beyond the superficial readings I interchange with other topics to form imaginings of two points in time. As mentioned, by no means is this accurate as it must bring into question the sincerity of the accounts I have read. No doubt my mind will change in time. However, it is fun to pretend.

Now. If you don’t mind, I have a date with Leonardo da Vinci at the Palace Promenade...