#I've had so much fun answering these asks

[embbarnes]

I was sooo excited to see this finished, I couldn't wait to read it. Okay, okay...here we go~

The beginning of it is so pure and sweet, I love how you include so many characters and build the dynamics and world up for the story to begin. You always do such a good job with that, and I love seeing all the details.

I also like how you took this with Logan's view, how you described others and the reactions between them were so perfect for his character. Wade and Al were hilarious, the chatter they had in the beginning was entertaining and 100% something I can see happening.

Anyway continuing below cut because I love reviewing your stuff in more detail ~

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time. You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

The tension that builds is so well done. This one really got me into the story, I've never read one with this idea so I thought it was really interesting and fun to read. Sometimes tension is hard to build up, and with the background and characters in the beginning of the story to now and a bit later on, when the 'peak' comes, it feels so well deserves and satisfying. I'm jealous of how you do that 😭

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits – He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now. Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain. When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

UGH. This part was insane. The build Logan begins to feel is so natural here, and as it goes on you can really sense how needy and hard it is for him to handle it. Someone like him being pent up is such a fun concept.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

These little tidbits of details feel so authentic and real, I adore each and every one. Just like the exposed midriff, the tiny details that add to what we already know, urging Logan's desires on and on.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator. It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

I'm always a sucker for ferals to use their senses and how writers include it in fics. Logan's sense of smell is insane so he would of course smell the reader's arousal. I love love that and how you described it was amazing.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid. “But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

Yess, FINALLY. Be bold.

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

Love this little detail a lot too <3

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach. “This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

This entire bit was super hot too, the idea of this happening was sooo good. His demeanor and actions, the light teasing and slapping was just perfection. It was perfectly balanced, and I re-read this bit a few times.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—” “No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?” He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole. “Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

This gets overlooked a lot but I personally really, really like this part. Enough self control to ask reader if they want to stop, if everything is fine, just giving that option to stop if they wanted to. That is such a good detail and shows the depth of care. It's really refreshing each time I see something like this added in a smut fic.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath. You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss. “I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

LMAO girl-😂😭

i got it bad

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4.9k

summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.

or - getting yourself off on logan's abs

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie

Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.

Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.

Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.

He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.

You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.

He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.

“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”

“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”

The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.

“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.

“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”

Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.

He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.

You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.

He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.

Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.

That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.

God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.

But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.

His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.

“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.

He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.

“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”

“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.

Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.

“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”

For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.

“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”

But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.

The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –

He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.

Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.

When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

••••••

Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.

There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.

He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.

But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.

What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?

He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.

Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?

With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.

It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.

As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.

He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.

“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”

You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.

“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”

Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.

“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”

“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.

He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”

“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.

He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.

The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.

But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.

He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.

It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.

“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.

“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.

“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”

“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.

“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.

“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.

“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”

“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.

“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.

Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.

You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.

He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.

No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.

It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.

He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.

The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.

Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.

“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.

He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.

“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”

He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”

For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.

With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.

He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.

Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.

You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.

“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”

Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.

And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.

You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.

He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.

He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.

He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.

He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.

You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.

“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.

He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”

“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”

He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.

“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.

You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.

“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.

You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”

“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.

You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.

You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.

“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️

for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader

[fawnduu]

do you have any advice for a newly public creator dealing with the lingering psychic damage of a mean spirited bad faith interpretation of their work?

I know it's silly to get hung up on, but that doesn't keep the negative thoughts and hypothetical arguments from bubbling up once in a while

asking because you seem like the sort of creator who gets an exciting and unpredictable mix of adoration and bile, and yet you still seem pretty chill and extremely (admirably, inspirationally, deservedly) confident in the work you do

...or maybe the question is more like: you make good art; how do you know that you make good art? how do you keep knowing?

This is something I've had to deal with a lot recently and I'd be lying if I said it hasn't ever bothered me. In my early 20s especially I agonized over every bad faith reading someone could take on what I was making.

Eventually I realized there is no possible way to tell a story that appeals to every person on earth. Someone is going to absolutely despise what you are making no matter how hard you try but that doesn't mean it's not worth making. For every person who hates your comics and everything you do there is someone who cherishes them.

Over the years I've had a lot of really kind people reach out to tell me how much the stories meant to them or made them finally realize they were gay or trans. You have to let those messages shine brighter than the few bad ones even though the bad feel incredibly loud. Part of that comes from protecting your peace and just not engaging with bad faith messages. I also just in general have a rule of if I'm feeling really charged about something rather than post about it, I go talk to my friends instead. The people who know me best and can give me contextual advice and comfort. I don't want to encourage a space for people to pick fights and argue with each other or me.

As for confidence, I am confident in the stories because I cater the stories entirely to my particular taste. If I'm loving making it and having a good time it's going to exude confidence. If I'm holding myself back it's going to feel toothless. Characters have mess, no story is ever going to be perfect but if you have fun telling it and making it that's where the magic happens!!! I find peace in stories that are campy and messy and just someone having fun with it. If you set the bar too high for media you are 'allowed' to think is good, how will you ever clear that bar yourself???

Ultimately the answer to "how do you keep making art despite it all" is a good network of friends, cutting yourself off from negative feedback loops, touching grass, and just making your stories/art so utterly catered to you that you wake up with a burning desire to create despite it all.

[qwertyprophecy]

Mortholme Post-Mortem

The Dark Queen of Mortholme has been out for two weeks, and I've just been given an excellent excuse to write some more about its creation by a lenghty anonymous ask.

Under the cut, hindsight on the year spent making Mortholme and answers to questions about game dev, grouped under the following topics:

Time spent on development Programming Obstacles Godot Animation Pixel art Environment assets Writing Completion Release

Regarding time spent on development

Nope, I’ve got no idea anymore how long I spent on Mortholme. It took a year but during that time I worked on like two other games and whatever else. And although I started with the art, I worked on all parts simultaneously to avoid getting bored. This is what I can say:

Art took a ridiculous amount of time, but that was by choice (or compulsion, one might say). I get very excitable and particular about it. At most I was making about one or two Hero animations in a day (for a total of 8 + upgraded versions), but anything involving the Queen took multiple times longer. When I made the excecutive decision that her final form was going to have a bazillion tentacles I gave up on scheduling altogether.

Coding went quickly at the start when I was knocking out a feature after another, until it became the ultimate slow-burn hurdle at the end. Testing, bugfixing, and playing Jenga with increasingly unwieldy code kept oozing from one week to the next. For months, probably? My memory’s shot but I have a mark on my calendar on the 18th of August that says “Mortholme done”. Must’ve been some optimistic deadline before the ooze.

Writing happened in extremely productive week-long bursts followed by nothing but nitpicky editing while I focused on other stuff. Winner in the “changed most often” category, for sure.

Sound was straightforward, after finishing a new set of animations I spent a day or two to record and edit SFX for them. Music I originally scheduled two weeks for, but hubris and desire for more variants bumped it to like a month.

Regarding programming

The Hero AI is certainly the part that I spent most of my coding time on. The basic way the guaranteed dodging works is that all the Queen’s attacks send a signal to the Hero, who calculates a “danger zone” based on the type of attack and the Queen’s location. Then, if the Hero is able to dodge that particular attack (a probability based on how much it's been used & story progression), they run a function to dodge it.

Each attack has its own algorithm that produces the best safe target position to go to based on the Hero’s current position (and other necessary actions like jumping). Those algorithms needed a whole lot of testing to code counters for all the scenarios that might trip the Hero up.

The easiest or at least most fun parts for me to code are the extra bells and whistles that aren’t critical but add flair. Like in the Hero’s case, the little touches that make them seem more human: a reaction speed delay that increases over time, random motions and overcompensation that decrease as they gain focus, late-game Hero taking prioritising aggressive positiniong, a “wait for last second” function that lets the Hero calculate how long it’ll take them to move to safety and use the information to squeeze an extra attack in…

The hardest attack was the magic circle, as it introduced a problem in my code so far. The second flare can overlap with other attacks, meaning the Hero had to keep track of two danger zones at once. For a brief time I wanted to create a whole new system that would constantly update a map of all current danger zones—that would allow for any number of overlapping attacks, which would be really cool! Unfortunately it didn’t gel with my existing code, and I couldn’t figure out its multitudes of problems since, well…

Regarding obstacles

Thing is, I’m hot garbage as a programmer. My game dev’s all self-taught nonsense. So after a week of failing to get this cool system to work, I scrapped it and instead made a spaghetti code monstrosity that made magic circle run on a separate danger zone, and decided I’d make no more overlapping attacks. That’s easy; I just had to buffer the timing of the animation locks so that the Hero would always have time to move away. (I still wanted to keep the magic circle, since it’s fun for the player to try and trick the Hero with it.)

There’s my least pretty yet practical solo dev advice: if you get stuck because you can’t do something, you can certainly try to learn how to do it, but occasionally the only way to finish a project within a decade to work around those parts and let them be a bit crap.

I’m happy to use design trickery, writing and art to cover for my coding skills. Like, despite the anonymous asker’s description, the Hero’s dodging is actually far from perfect. I knew there was no way it was ever going to be, which is why I wrote special dialogue to account for a player finding an exploit that breaks the intended gameplay. (And indeed, when the game was launched, someone immediately found it!)

Regarding Godot

It’s lovely! I switched from Unity years ago and it’s so much simpler and more considerate of 2D games. The way its node system emphasises modularity has improved my coding a lot.

New users should be aware that a lot of tutorials and advice you find online may be for Godot 3. If something doesn’t work, search for what the Godot 4 equivalent is.

Regarding animation

I’m a professional animator, so my list of tips and techniques is a tad long… I’ll just give a few resource recommendations: read up on the classic 12 principles of animation (or the The Illusion of Life, if you’d like the whole book) and test each out for yourself. Not every animation needs all of these principles, but basically every time you’ll be looking at an animation and wondering how to make it better, the answer will be in paying attention to one or more of them.

Game animation is its own beast, and different genres have their own needs. I’d recommend studying animations that do what you’d like to do, frame by frame. If you’re unsure of how exactly to analyse animation for its techniques, youtube channel New Frame Plus shows an excellent example.

Oh, and film yourself some references! The Queen demanded so much pretend mace swinging that it broke my hoover.

Regarding pixel art

The pixel art style was picked for two reasons: 1. to evoke a retro game feel to emphasise the meta nature of the narrative, and 2. because it’s faster and more forgiving to animate in than any of my other options.

At the very start I was into the idea of doing a painterly style—Hollow Knight was my first soulslike—but quickly realised that I’d either have to spend hundreds of hours animating the characters, or design them in a simplistic way that I deemed too cutesy for this particular game. (Hollow Knight style, one day I’d love to emulate you…)

I don’t use a dedicated program, just Photoshop for everything like a chump. Pixel art doesn’t need anything fancy, although I’m sure specialist programs will keep it nice and simple.

Pixel art’s funny; its limitations make it dependent on symbolism, shortcuts and viewer interpretation. You could search for some tutorials on basic principles (like avoiding “jaggies” or the importance of contrast), but ultimately you’ll simply want to get a start in it to find your own confidence in it. I began dabbling years ago by asking for character requests on Tumblr and doodling them in pixels in whatever way I could think of.

Regarding environment assets

The Queen’s throne room consists of two main sprites—one background and one separate bit of the door for the Hero disappear behind—and then about fifty more for the lighting setup. There’s six different candle animations, there’s lines on the floor that need to go on top of character reflections, all the candle circles and lit objects are separated so that the candles can be extinguished asynchronously; and then there’s purple phase 2 versions of all of the above.

This is all rather dumb. There’s simpler ways in Godot to do 2D lighting with shaders and a built-in system (I use those too), but I wanted control over the exact colours so I just drew everything in Photoshop the way I wanted it. Still, it highlights how mostly you only need a single background asset and separated foreground objects; except if you need animated objects or stuff that needs to change while the game’s running, you’ll get a whole bunch more.

I wholeheartedly applaud having a go at making your own game art, even if you don’t have any art background! The potential for cohesion in all aspects of design—art, game, narrative, sound—is at the heart of why video games are such an exciting medium!

Regarding writing

Finding the voices of the Queen and the Hero was the quick part of the process. They figured that out they are almost as soon as writing started. I’d been mulling this game over in my mind for so long, I had already a specific idea in mind of what the two of them stood for, conceptually and thematically. When they started bantering, I felt like all I really had to do was to guide it along the storyline, and then polish.

What ended up taking so long was that there was too much for them to say for how short the game needed to be to not feel overstretched. Since I’d decided to go with two dialogue options on my linear story, it at least gave me twice the amount of dialogue that I got to write, but it wasn’t enough!

The first large-scale rewrite was me going over the first draft and squeezing in more interesting things for the Queen and the Hero to discuss, more branching paths and booleans. There was this whole thing where the player’s their dialogue choices over multiple conversations would lead them to about four alternate interpretations of why the Queen is the way she is. This was around the time I happened to finally play Disco Elysium, so of course I also decided to also add a ton of microreactivity (ie. small changes in dialogue that acknowledge earlier player choices) to cram in even more alternate dialogue. I spent ages tinkering with the exact nuances till I was real proud of it.

Right until the playtesters of this convoluted contraption found the story to be unclear and confusing. For some reason. So for my final rewrite, I picked out my favourite bits and cut everything else. With the extra branching gone, there was more room to improve the pacing so the core of the story could breathe. The microreactivity got to stay, at least!

A sample of old dialogue from the overcomplicated version:

Regarding completion

The question was “what kept me going to actually finish the game, since that is a point many games never even get to meet?” and it’s a great one because I forgot that’s a thing. Difficulties finishing projects, that is—I used to think it was hard, but not for many years. Maybe I’ve completed so many small-scale games already that it hardly seems that unreasonable of an expectation? (Game jams. You should do game jams.)

I honestly never had any doubt I was going to finish Mortholme. When I started in late autumn last year, I was honestly expecting the concept to be too clunky to properly function; but I wished to indulge in silliness and make it exist anyways. That vision would’ve been easy to finish, a month or two of low stakes messing around, no biggie. (Like a game jam!)

Those months ran out quickly as I had too much fun making the art to stop. It must’ve been around the time I made this recording that it occurred to me that even if the game was going to be clunky, it could still genuinely work on the back of good enough storytelling technique—not just writing, but also the animation and the Hero’s evolving behaviour during the gameplay segments which I’d been worried about. The reaction to my early blogging was also heartening. Other people could also imagine how this narrative could be interesting!

A few weeks after that I started planning out the narrative beats I wanted the dialogue to reach, and came to the conclusion that I really, really wanted it to work. Other people had to see this shit, I thought. There’s got to be freaks out there who’d love to experience this tragedy, and I’m eager to deliver.

That’s why I was fine with the project’s timeline stretching out. If attention to detail and artistry was going to make this weird little story actually come to life, then great, because that’s exactly the part of development I love doing most. Projects taking longer than expected can be frustrating, but accepting that as a common part of game dev is what allows confidence in eventual their completion regardless.

Regarding release

Dear anonymous’s questions didn’t involve post-release concerns, but it seems fitting to wrap up the post-mortem by talking about the two things about Mortholme's launch that were firsts for me, and thus I was unprepared for.

1. This was the first action game I've coded. Well, sort of—I consider Mortholme to be a story first and foremost, with gameplay so purposefully obnoxious it benefits from not being thought of as a “normal” game. Still, the action elements are there. For someone who usually sticks to making puzzle games since they’re easier to code, this was my most mechanically fragile game yet. So despite all my attempts at playtesting and failsafes, it had a whole bunch of bugs on release.

Game-breaking bugs, really obvious bugs, weird and confusing bugs. It took me over a week to fix all that was reported (and I’m only hoping they indeed are fully fixed). That feels slow; I should’ve expected it was going to break so I could’ve been faster to respond. Ah well, next time I know what I’ll be booking my post-release week for.

2. This was my first game that I let players give me money for. Sure, it’s pay-what-you-want, but for someone as allergic to business decisions as I am, it was a big step. I guess I was worried of being shown that nobody would consider my art worth financial compensation. Well, uh, that fear has gone out of the window now. I’m blown away by how kind and generous the players of Mortholme have been with their donations.

I can’t imagine it's likely to earn a living wage from pouring hundreds of hours into pay-what-you-want passion projects, but the support has me heartened to seek out a future where I could make these weird stories and a living both.

Those were the unexpected parts. The part I must admit I was expecting—but still infinitely grateful for—was that Mortholme did in fact reach them freaks who’d find it interesting. The responses, comments, analyses, fan works (there’s fic and art!! the dream!!), inspiration, and questions (like the ones prompting me to write this post-mortem) people have shared with me thanks to Mortholme… They’ve all truly been what I was hoping for back when I first gave myself emotions thinking about a mean megalomaniac and stubborn dipshit.

Thank you for reading, thank you for playing, and thank you for being around.

[inc0mple]

🗝️ ”Keys Are People, Too” 100 Chapter Q&A ⭐️ (ongoing!)

(Last edit: 12/20 10:40 CST)

Hi! :) If y’all don’t know me my name is Inco (it’s not but shh) and I write a fanfiction for Cinderella Boy called Keys Are People, Too. It’s not finished, it’s ongoing and rapidly approaching 100 chapters XD (yes we are like four chapters away but shh rounding) (I PROMISE WE’RE ALMOST TO THE LAST ACT). So because of an ask from @isitamia and, we’ll say the 100 chapter milestone… tada Q&A??

I don’t know how many people are going to engage with this but that’s totally okay :) I love ranting about stuff and I’ve put a lot of thought into this story, so it would be cool to have an outlet to answer some questions where they don’t get forgotten in AO3 comments. And if you guys also have general questions about writing advice/things like that, I am not an expert but I do also like talking about stories.

So please ask! I’m not planning to close this at any specific time—I was thinking y’all could comment questions under this post or via reblogs (I might miss them in reblogs though) and I will edit this post to answer them, and also reply to you so you know your question is answered. This might get like 10 notes and that’s fine haha (I have zero idea how many people regularly read my story beyond the ones who leave comments), but if there are a lot of questions I’ll try to categorize them. Really just a place to drop info for fun :)

Q&A below ⬇️

I tried to make it organized. It's... kind of organized. Kind of.

Plot/Characters

"What key archetype isn't one of the siblings? Do we get to know their archetypes soon?" asked by @spookieee28 12/20

I'm not gonna say the archetypes at this point in time because it risks spoilers. You will find out by the end of the story and hopefully by that points all of the archetypes should be relatively clear. Some have already been mentioned like the chapter "Heralds and Thieves" for Jade and Cooper, I think (?) Cora has been mentioned as the Innocent archetype, etcetera.

"Which character do you struggle writing the most and which feels easier for you, if you have preferences?" asked by @isitamia 12/20

"Do you ever struggle with keeping Cinderella Boy's canon characters in character?" asked by @isitamia 12/20

I'll answer both of these together. Chase is pretty easy for me because I just channel chaotic gremlin energy and it seems to work. Buddy is OKAY although I am struggling right now making him vulnerable while still retaining him Buddy-ish-ness if that makes sense? Deacon is just Deacon... I am sorry, I feel like I don't really do anything to characterize him, he's just there as a sounding board XD I will say- I daydream situations for CB ALL THE TIME which gives me a lot of comfortability with the canon characters and considering what they would do and say and how they would react. I do have a little bit of difficulty characterizing the human keys so I just kinda went like "oh WELL that's because, UUHHHH, the key siblings don't match the keys exactly! That's it that's the answer!" because I felt like Silver wasn't quite Silver-ish and stuff. As for struggling writing the most I have two main answers.

BRONTE. For those who maybe haven't read this but are scrolling through it anyway, or aren't there yet, Bronte is the "human" version of Bronze and I kinda accidentally eliminated him from the story until like... the 80th chapte ror something like that. I had a lot of trouble actually writing his dialogue and scenes with Chase. It just did not have Bronze's snarky energy. So that was tough and I feel bad because I really feel like I did not do him justice :c

DUKE RAVENELL!!!!!! Ravenell hates me. He gives me so much trouble primarily because I just plunked him in at the beginning and didn't give him a real personality beyond a few vague notions. I've really had to sculpt his character as I went and it's especially difficult because Ravenell is intended to do a lot of plot device-ing. He perpetuates a lot of themes in the story and he is a HUGE character foil to Chase, because he often reflects the opposite of Chase's (and Idonea's) values and intentions. I want him to be morally grey and I am constantly fighting a BATTLE with this man to make sure he isn't too likeable or too hateable. I posted on Tumblr like a week ago really just asking for a diagnostic and the response made my day because people are all OVER the place about this man, some people love him, some will never forgive him, some are like "he's alright but there's something off about him and I can't help but distrust him" and others are like "I know he keeps making mistakes but I can't help but trust him" and I LOVE IT. Fortunately I think he's finally in a place perception-wise where I want him. I want the confusion. So badly. Only now I have to continue to fight this stupid tug-o'-war to keep him properly dividing until the end of the story XD

Behind the scenes

"How did you come up with the plot for KAPT? Was it just a little thought that popped up in your head one day, or did you have like inspiration or something?" asked by @xcitrix 12/20

"Did you have an idea for how you wanted the story to end when you first started writing or did you come up with more ideas while working on it?" asked by @lapileaf 12/20

I'mma answer both of these (and any others if they are asked) in kinda the same go if that's alright. In August I was wanting to write some fanfiction for CB, and one idea rotating in my head was, what if Chase went into a nonfiction book? Like he thought it the most effective way to study for a history project, or he saw a mention of Ex Libris, or something. So, completely directionless, I drabbled out the first chapter of KAPT where they find the book in the museum and... adopt it. And then it sat there in my Google Docs for like two weeks while I worked on a different fanfiction, Violets and Chains. I tried to return to it a little bit and got through the first anthology chapter where they're in the Chartesia battle, but that too did not have a plot behind it, I was like "myeh... trebuchets... uh... and now there's a guy... oh maybe they're PRISONERS..." And then brain did not work and I gave up. Eventually got myself together, BS-ed the rest of the scene, and then sat down and essentially ranted to myself about potential ideas until I figured out the plot.

More ideas have kept cropping up as I've worked on it. There are certain puzzle pieces that are foreshadowed in even teh first ten chapters that I didn't even mean to foreshadow because I hadn't thought of the yet - the plot was generally mapped out but has defintely been refined and added to as time goes on. Eventually you get into the flow of a story and everything just starts clicking into place, like you yourself are theorizing about an external work. Keep in mind that because I am publishing it as I write each chapter, KAPT is a first draft, and I have to hatch out plot points and main parts of the story as I write and make my best effort to recover any loose threads or things like that. It's a fun exercise!

"Do you plan to stick to the story you have already till the end or is there a possiblity you'll have to change some things if we get to know more about canon Ex Libris/Buddy lore while it's still ongoing?" asked by @iwikpines 12/20

There are some new bits of information that are kinda iffy for KAPT, but ultimately because KAPT takes place inside a book most of the Buddy/Ex Libris lore is not applicable. Regarding Buddy's situation I am going to go ahead like I was planning to originally, and I'll add a disclaimer when time permits. I don't think either way throws a wrench in the plans too much but I would rather be confident in the themes I've already set up as opposed to trying to hastily recover new lore in the last third of the story, if that makes sense.

"How did you come up with your ocs? I know some, like Jaime, come from another original story of yours ... but what about characters like Ravenell, Galeus, and Rose? What inspired you? How did you decide their personaltiy, their struggles? Did you take inspiration from yourself for anyone, similar to how Punko took inspiration from herself for Chase? Do you follow any specific process to come up with ocs, like follow a list, scheme, or coming up with hypothetical scneraios?" asked by @isitamia 12/20

A lot of the characters are cameos from a passion project I've been working on for years called IFI (no I will not tell you what it stands for) - Jaime and emma are from there, as well as several others including Alexei, Nishan, Mattheo, Kelitia, Indie (the Marchioness), King Aarius, and King Olivyn. So those are just plunked in and then Jaime decided to become part of the plot. As for the other original characters made specifically for KAPT, they just kinda got plopped in for one reason or another (I wanted Rose to connect to the Chartesia lore, Ravenell to have a foil for Chase, and Galeus because, well, there had to be a king) and then I slowly worked to build connections, themes, and character. Often times I don't specifically sit down and think "this character will be this way", it just emerges naturally from their dialogue, like I'm chiseling something out that was already in the stone like an archeologist, as opposed to carving my own new sculpture. I've always written that way and it makes it difficult when I am required to add structure to my writing or explain why I do things the way I do. I will say it is all VERY inspired from my own life and beliefs; Rose exists as a confidante in the story, and many of her more preachy dialogue pieces are things I'm getting out of my system. So yeah, not really a lot of structure to it, they just appear... and I figure them out as I go... most of my characters are in some way facets of myself or the way I percieve life. As I get more experienced with writing I'm sure I'll be more intentional with them, but for now, they are Athena and I am Zeus.

"How do you post daily" (kind of) asked by @isitamia 12/20

To give an actual answer for this because I know it's a lot to post a 2-4k chapter PER DAY - I am a student and have a LOT of downtime in class where I can't really do anything but write. That is how. Also, I have taught myself to be a prolific writer because that is the thing in my life I can always rely on when other things are unstable.

"How did you extend the story so far? I love the plot and it's kinda insane how you were able to develop it so much, at this point it's a full novel and I kinda live for it LOL. Also how long would you consider one act?" asked by @shyve3 12/20

Two parts to this question, I will answer them both;

I didn't mean to. I am really bad about being concise; I can't. When I write and get passionate about a story there's so much I want to stay and I can rarely fit it into what most people consider a pallatable length. I just get going and... idk... unstoppable force or something lol. And yes KAPT is at least the length of a typical trilogy XD ITS BEEN FIVE MONTHS

Regarding the act question, I ORIGINALLY said KAPT would be three acts, with the first ending when Chase goes down into Rose's "tomb" for the first time, the second ending with the Bronte part, and the third being the final one. It is actually more like four now, with the "second" act split into two at the masquerade ball. We are so close to being onto the actual final act, which should be a 4th of the total fic, so we have maybe 30 chapters left (?) (we'll see lol)

I don't have a specific length, it's just the way the story tends to ebb and flow if that makes sense?

General stuff

"Do you have any advice as a writer?" asked by @iwikpines 12/20

I AM SO BAD ABOUT THIS because I really do just go type type type and words appear. I know there's more to it than that but I've spent a lot of time writing and not a lot of time learning how to write so I have the experience without the actual education behind it. Write what you care about :) I mean NO DUH but like - your best stories will come from the heart. You will find prolificness (is that a word?) in PASSION. If I didn't care about Cinderella Boy or the themes I'm trying to communicate in KAPT would I spent my days writing a chapter a day ABSOLUTELY FRIGGIN NOT I'd be writing a different story. So yeah - write what you love and your audience will find you. What the world needs is a buncha people doing what they love really well because it's what they care about. Also, I didn't include your full comment here, but I am excited to read your fanfiction! <3 Please post it on Tumblr when you also post it elsewhere!

[mctartney]

Okay I feel like so much of it was a blur but let me try and write what I remember and share some of my highlights!

- Before the show we heard screaming and everyone rushing the other side of the arena and were like who the FUCK has turned up??? Well now we know lol

- He is such a genius starting the show with AHDN because that first chord??? Instant Beatlemania 

- Let Me Roll It ok ok ok listen. Not usually an old Paul fucker. Him taking his jacket off before and everyone cheering was funny. BUT then him slowly rolling up his sleeves and undoing his top button during the verses?? oooOOH let me at him 🥴

- He didn't tell the "Jimi asked me to tune his guitar" story like usual, was just like "he was a lovely guy, very humble" 🥺

- I don't know why but I found My Valentine so emotional?? I don't know, it's just Paul has lost so many people but I'm so glad that throughout his life he has always found people to love and who love him

- I've Just Seen A Face in front of the Cavern backdrop made me UNWELL

- Paul get everyone to do the little "oh-oh-oh-oh"s in In Spite Of All The Danger and then the crowd kept doing it when the the song was over and he looked so happy and it made him laugh so he did the last verse again AW

- Blackbird -  I've heard him tell the story about seeing the kids going to school in Little Rock before, but he told a story about how he got a text from a lady in Jacksonville who saw The Beatles there when they refused to play a segregated show and she said it was the first time she had ever stood next to a white person. Glad he makes a point to tell these stories because it makes it very clear - this was not long ago in the slightest.

- Here Today, okay I've never seen him have an emotional wobble in person, he's got through it okay. Every time I've seen him have a wobble in a video it's been on the "I love you" line. But this time he kind of had a moment on the "I really loved you and was glad you came along" and oh man. It's just so sad, isn't it? It's so sad.

- Now and Then, he had a little moment to admire the heart cards the crowd held up and it was very cute!!

- He started telling the story of the lost bass and then brought it out to play it and it was SO surreal to be in the same room in that guitar. He was like "I'm going to play it for the first time in 50 years" and then twanged the strings and was like "Well, it sounds like a bass!" djskf

- Get Back with the lost bass and Ronnie Wood was just so fun and they all looked like they were having so much fun!

- Let It Be was really beautiful, everyone lit up the arena with their phone torches. It was so special. Afterwards, he looked out to the audience and says, completely serious, like your dad giving his best advice "Let it be. There will be an answer. Let it be." I love him so much.

- Live And Let Die, one of the loud fireworks accidentally went off in the middle of a verse and scared the LIFE out of me. I jumped a mile and then looked back over to Paul who was just laughing djkdg. Him covering his ears for the last explosion at the end is so cuuute too he's the funny uncle at the party it's true.

- I've Got A Feeling. Ohhh. Sweet boy. Seeing him sing with John. Hearing John's voice ring through the arena so clearly. It's a lot.

- Paul: "We've got another special guest for you" Me: 🧐🙏 The Crew: *start dragging a drumkit on* Me: 😨 Paul: "Ringo Starr!" Me: 🥴😵

- IT WAS UNREAL!! THEYRE SO CUTE. Ringo truly is so little aww and they had a cuddle and Paul kissed him on the forehead. Honestly the affection between them was palpable, I dunno how to describe it. Just really fond.

- Lowkey Sgt Peppers and Helter Skelter were a blur bc my brain was just going PAUL AND RINGO SAME ROOM 50% BEATLES

- Then Abbey Road Medley went way too quickly and was all over so soon sighh

- He kissed the camera on the way out 😘😘 Love him to bits forever & always

[bigfan-fanfic]

Worth More than Gold (Reader x Laios Touden)

@alex126486 Reader first meeting laios in gold scraping , reader listens laios fascination on monsters and what they tasted like then asking he could cook one for him one day

"Do you remember? Back when we first started out with gold scraping?" You chuckle over at the tallman.

Laios doesn't look up from where he sits preparing the rest of the vegetables from Senshi's garden for you to fry up with the last of the basilisk meat and egg you're making. "Remember what?"

it's always been exciting being around Laios.

You were one of the Touden Party's three mages. Marcille with her explosive fire specialty, Falin with her cleric powers, and you with a specialty in protection and gnomish magic.

You once worked together with him as part of a gold-scraping band.

And it was then that he began talking to you all about his fascination towards monsters.

Little facts about the creatures you would face.

And when you gave no indication of disgust, Laios took the opportunity and ran with it, happily expounding upon monster features for hours upon end.

And when it became clear that you enjoyed his sessions of information -

he began to speculate with you about how monsters tasted.

Would a cockatrice taste more like chicken or more like reptile?

Do strangling plants have sweeter fruits than man-eating plants?

"Who knows? Maybe one day I'll cook you one."

Laios' jaw dropped, and he looked almost about to cry before he nodded seriously.

"That sounds great! What are you thinking of cooking?"

And years later, after traveling with Senshi deeper and deeper into the dungeon, you remember your offhand little promise.

"I once said I'd cook a monster for you. Way back when we were gold scraping."

Laios beams, and you know he never forgot. "I did! I didn't think you had."

"I hadn't, til just now. It must be so much fun for you to discover all the answers to the questions you've had."

Laios nods. "It's a dream come true!"

He glances over at a glum Marcille. "Though of course, saving Falin's the top priority."

"Of course." You nod. "Though if I can be honest, I've really enjoyed the stuff you and Senshi have made."

"That's great!"

"I know Marcille and Chilchuck tend to be squeamish about it-"

("Hey!" Marcille whines)

"-but I dunno. So-called 'normal' animals are pretty weird and gross too, but we eat them. Farming can be nasty too, what with fertilizer, but we don't consider crops gross. It's all just... part of a cycle. If you can make it taste good and it's safe to eat, then why not?"

Laios looks at you with something akin to awe. Chilchuck and Marcille look as though they have lost an ally to madness.

"Anyway, try this. I wanna know if I seasoned it enough." You hurriedly say, seeing Laios still looking at you with that strange expression.

He opens his mouth, seemingly expecting you to... feed him?

So you do, resting the chunk of cooked egg and meat on his tongue, feeling his mouth close around your fingers.

So innocuous, but so intimate, your fingertips compressed as his mouth moves from them, slipping out from the corners.

Part of you is going crazy, thinking one thought - that you've just put your fingers in a teammate's mouth and he just... ate from them. His lips touched your fingers.

His eyes flash up to yours. "Mmmmmm! That's perfectly seasoned."

"Oh! Uh... good." you feel your face heating. Chilchuck smirks over at you. "Good. Those vegetables, then?"

He happily hands them to you.

"Thank you."

"Hmm?"

"For keeping your promise. For cooking. For feeding me."

It's an odd way of phrasing it, but you enjoy the sentiment. "You are welcome, Laios... anytime."

He grins, and leans in close. "You might even be better at cooking than Senshi. It might just be that tallmen have different palates and spices they like, but I love it when you cook."

"I, uh... thanks. That means a lot."

You all but flee to prepare the stir-fry, lowering your gaze, smiling to yourself.

Maybe nothing happened yet, and he's just being nice.

But the friend you've had a crush on since those days of gold-scraping has just practically kissed your hand and complimented your cooking.

And that is worth far more than any gold.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Hi, it's Quill! For the fic writer asks, can you please answer 40, 56 and 65? 😘❤️

HELLO MY FRIEND THANK YOU 💛💛💛

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Ooooooh, now THAT'S a toughie. And and all art of my fic would be recived with literal tears of joy, but let's narrow it down lmao. Discounting my horny ass just wanting aaaallll the art of my smutty side account fic (and tbh more horny art of the Cat King in general), I think it would be lovely to see art of Lonely Bones, considering how much time and feeling has gone into it and considering I think you could have a lot of fun with moody compositions. Somewhere Beyond the Sea is only on it's first chapter but especially from chapter two onwards it's gonna have so many fun and whimsical things/characters to draw! I'd also be an absolute GLUTTON for more of mine and L and H's 1920s poly boys as seen in Keep Me Warm, Love Me Long, Be My Sunlight, but that's a bit more niche!

If I had to pick one singular scene, I think I'd melt like butter if someone drew Charles in subspace getting therapeutically, nonsexually dommed by Edwin with silly cat's cradle games in ’Cause You Cut Through All the Noise. I'm so fond of that fic you have no idea.

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

Character voices!! I need to rewatch DBDA again soon to refresh my memory lest I drift into made-up voices but generally speaking I think my dialogue characterisation is pretty fun and believable!

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

I am looking forward to each and every aspect of the 1920s AU I'm working on with @dear-monday and @tw0-ravens, but especially the Thomas dialogue/arc/letters. I'm also huuuugely looking forward to writing my Edge Chronicles AU, but mostly for the world, vibes and character backstories especially pertaining to Edwin -- I'm currently struggling a bit with finding the actual plot, though! I'm also SO excited for the rest of Somewhere Beyond the Sea, there's going to be so much fun and whimsy and fantasy and sweetness, I'm really excited for the bits I've added as well as the bits I'm adapting from the source material!

Get to know your fic writer!

(And because you asked me to talk about WIPs, here we go, a very short, rough snippet of the Edge Chronicles AU from my notes app -- flashback to Charles and Edwin's first meeting!)

It was freezing cold in the prowlgrin roost. Maybe not up in the nests and the roosting poles, where the big old beasts dozed by the light of the burning braziers, the lucky sods. But down in the straw and the muck the winter chill was biting, creeping through every crack in the ancient slats. Charles was huddling down pathetically, dragging the ratty old prowlgrin tarp tighter round his shoulders, when he heard a creak. Louder than the wind through the slats, slower. The door. He froze, holding his breath. The air had... changed. It was crackling with something, making Charles' hair stand on end. And then, footsteps.  Charles shrank back, tried to make himself small. But the shape that stepped into the roost wasn't any boy that he knew — anyone who might be looking to finish what they'd started. It was... strange. It was like looking at those old barkscroll woodcuts from way back; those odd, early academic knights with the leather armour, all tooled and riveted. Like something out of a fairytale. It looked at him, right at him, and pulled off its leather helmet and underneath was just… a boy. Not like any boy he'd seen, though. Pale, worryingly so, and gaunt, eyes the most piercing blue he'd ever seen; unearthly, iridescent. Like open, uncharted sky. "I was looking for the library," said the boy, softly, hoarsely, like he hadn't used his voice in a good long while. "It used to be here, did it not?" Charles frowned, for a moment too confused to be scared. Of all the things to be looking for! "Not anymore, mate. Moved it 'cuz of the rot, didn't they? That was what, thirty years back or summit." "Thirty years..." he hummed like a rumbling storm. "Right. If you might point me in the right direction — I have some very important reading to do.” Charles was starting to think the dunk in the lake had frozen his brain. "It's three in the morning,” he said, baffled. The boy knelt before him, and raised his hand. Charles watched, horrorstruck, as his long, slender fingers lost their shape and stretched, vaporous, into elongated strands of crystalline cirrus. "It is rather pressing," said the boy, deadpan.

And some of my tests of the art style so far 😊 this AU's gonna take me a WHILE with the illustrations as well as the writing lmao

[justcallme-ange]

I've just been going through your blog and seeing which asks I sent, I learned that I've been lurking around in your blog for quite a while.

I made a little list because I did not realize how many they were-

#1 ask was about Techno doing the "Didn't I do it for you?" meme face lmao

#2 If I remember correctly I think my second one was about Human!Techno clothes not fitting him anymore

#3 Then the one about Human!Techno again but in different outfits like dresses

#4 The don't be shy one with Philza lmao

#5 Me just being a Philza simp in your asks

#6 I made the one about Dream being bbg coded, I still think HUG👏THAT👏MAN👏 everytime I see him because of you

#7 Techno being Dream's emotional support pig just like Grizzly to Nom Nom in We Bare Bears

#8 Don't be shy again lol

#9 My official presentation✨

#10 Wholesome boop attack

#11 and #12 Daily boops and also me deciding to be brave-

#13 then me simping as usual in your asks about Philza and your artstyle lol

I just realized as well that you drew for most of my asks :DDD

Ah so you’re the reason my inbox is always full XD

Thanks for being brave Leafie - it’s nice seeing you pop up with asks and ideas <3

Because of you AccidentalHuman!Techno is a thing - happy to be doing collaborations with you, well- now that I know it’s you haha

I have a lot of ideas for all my AUs but it's nice to have some direction when I'm making stuff, takes some of the pressure off and makes it more of a team effort than me just yelling into the void

[sysig]

Growing closer than expected (Patreon)

[grubus]

Looking at your what if post got me thinking

Would Shen Qingqiu have reacted a little...better? Less 'I have no relation to that child' type of reaction if people had assumed both him and Shen Yuan are siblings and not parent and child? Or would it have made it worse?

Probably worse! SQQ has through years of hard work and spite managed to establish himself as a noble born to the point that even LQG calls him one in canon; SY is very obviously NOT a noble born, considering how he acts, how he arrived and his subpar skills in the four arts.

Shen Yuan being assumed to be SQQ's son from, say, a whore, is slightly better than someone assuming they are siblings simply because if they assume they are siblings, then they are a short step away from the truth. Which is that Shen Qingqiu is not a noble.

Of course, there has probably been a few rumors about that as well. But SQQ is in that perfect range of possibly being a young father or a sibling with a large age gap. The young father option fits better for many of the older generation, especially since Shen Qingqiu in syonr stopped going to brothels the moment he got his own house- I've never clearly stated that, only hinted at, but that is how it is.

SQQ refusing to claim any relation to SY despite the "father" option being "better" has many other reasons behind it, one of them being that he is a spiteful bitch who hates doing what people tell him to and now, perhaps, simply because it puts SY in danger. Not that he cares about the brat or anything :/

My SQQ also has a bit of agoraphobia in that he hates leaving his own peak and if he has to leave the sect, he much rather stay in his room or carriage as much as possible <_< this has little to do with your question, I just like holding up that headcanon of mine because it makes a lot of sense to me.

[faytelumos]

Trick or treat!

I will always pick treat.

No matter how late I am. @_@'

cw: alcohol mention, blood, peril

---

@justalittleminishnamedmouse, @mr-orion, @rfallfish, @tildeathiwillwrite, @thelazywitchphotographer

---

He wasn't sure why he'd agreed to take over the gym teacher's after-hours rounds, exactly. He had a lot of homework left to grade and he actually didn't want to stay in this building much at all today. Something about the weather made him want to hunker down in bed with a bag of chips like a bear. But Hugh had a lot going on lately. So Ben agreed to make sure all of the equipment was properly locked up after basketball practice.

It was fine. Hugh would owe him later. Maybe he'd rope the guy into a couple beers, who knew. He'd come up with something.

Ben walked down the hallway to the gymnasium, his footsteps bouncing off the linoleum and across the walls. But they didn't sound right. Was the floor here messed up? He stopped walking to look down, to look for details he could give maintenance. But… the weird sounds continued. They echoed awkwardly through the hall, and he turned his head, trying to find the direction they were coming from. They sounded… wet? Was there some kind of leak? What the hell was that noise?

A small, strangled, pained cry.

Ben's blood froze along with the rest of him. A girl. That sound was coming from the small gym, at the back of the hall. Whoever it was, she whined, weakly. Ben almost thought she'd said, "Stop."

Oh, fuck. Oh, what the fuck.

Ben sprinted, rushing for the small gym door, keys and shoes filling the hallway with so much noise, and then the loud bang when he slammed open the double doors—

There, up there, in the bleachers, two shapes. Ben staggered back when the one turned to look at him. "Monster" was the only word he had in that split second, looking up at the human-shaped thing with gray skin, black eyes, and lips slick with… blood.

Ben was completely out of his depth. He didn't even know how to categorize this. Was it some kind of animal? An elaborate prank? There was the girl, limp in it's hands, and Ben thought he recognized her—

The thing rose, it made to lunge for Ben, and he tripped over himself to get away, falling on his ass just in time to watch the monster get tackled out of the air by something else.

There was something else in here?! What was next?!

The monster and the — the wolf?! — ripped and tore at each other on the floor, away from the door. Not wasting a moment, Ben climbed up off of his butt and sprinted as best he could for the bleachers. He stumbled and banged his shins more than once getting up to the girl, then gathered and pulled her into his arms. He couldn't tell if she was still breathing or not. The thought that he was holding a dead body was like ice water down his back. He looked down the bleachers, holding the full weight of a teenaged girl, and worried that if she wasn't already dead, he'd kill them both trying to carry her down these stairs.

His head snapped up at a terrifying, roar-lile sound that shook the whole gym. Then he looked down, gritting his teeth, and pounded down the steps in a rush.

Holy shit! Holy shit, he made it!

He looked up again, and the human-shaped monster burst into a thick puff of steam. It rushed at him, and his heart stopped, right as the wolf dissolved into a swarm of bats, swirling around and controlling the cloud.

Was he asleep at his desk?! This was a nightmare, it had to be!

He didn't know how much time he had, so he ran, his steps heavy and precarious with the girl in his arms. There was a bang behind him, spurring him on with a punch of fear as he got into the hall.

He did his best to run, to get out of there as fast as possible, to keep the girl safe and balanced in his arms. She made a small sound, a groan, and he would have laughed with relief if he could breathe. He headed for the nearest exterior door, his heart pounding cold as crashing noises chased him up the hallway. He cried out in fear, gripping the girl tighter, and turned to shoulder out of the door.

He tripped, hard, over the threshold, and he had just enough footing left to twist and fall onto his back. The girl fell limp right onto his chest, punching the already winded wind out of him. He gasped, but it was hitched, caught against his sternum like gum. He couldn't get a breath in, he didn't even have the air to get the girl off of him.

The sounds of the fight were getting closer. He couldn't see past the weakly moaning student. He braced, immobile, for whatever pain or horror was about to overcome him.

Bats, so many tiny, screeching, flitting bats burst out of the still-open door, whipping past him and into the night. In the harsh floodlight, he saw several swirl and dive for him, only for several others to swoop over him and attack upwards. He gaped like a fish, still breathless, trying so hard to suck in a breath, mind whirling. These bats didn't move like they were supposed to.

The small animals cleared, screeching and shrieking into the distance. He was able to force half a breath into his lungs, but it hiccuped right back out of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, suffocating. There was another noise, and then footsteps, sprinting to him over grass.

Another set of hands grabbed the girl, yanking on her. Ben gritting his teeth, grabbing for her, trying to protect her from her next attacker, but the newcomer shoved his hands away with incredible force. Then the girl was on the stranger's shoulder, and he ran out of sight. Groaning, straining, feeling ready to pass out, Ben struggled to get onto his hands and knees. The same person — a student — was on him again, then, much to his surprise. Then, to his downright shock, the kid lifted him up onto his feet.

"Walk, walk, walk," the kid growled, his voice urgent, all but dragging Ben to a waiting car. The girl was in the front seat, leaning back, pale as death. The kid dumped Ben into the back seat and slammed the door shut behind him. Ben hadn't even righted himself before the kid was in the driver's seat and pulling the car off of the grass, towards the street.

Ben was finally getting his lungs back, struggling for air, for relief. But now, he could so strongly smell blood. He sat upright, shaking, looking across the car and at the driver. A street light passed in time to illuminate the kid pulling his hand away from his mouth, the meat of his thumb bleeding. Ben stared in horror as the kid reached over to the girl.

"Drink," the kid demanded, and Ben felt a wave of nausea like the inertia around a turn. The girl whimpered in front of him, and the boy turned to look at her. When he spoke again, his voice was downright terrifying, like the barreling of a train rushing up behind you. "Rebecca, you will drink."

She made another noise, and the kid looked away. Ben couldn't see, didn't want to see, if she was doing as told. He just stared at the driver.

"Put on your seatbelt," the kid said in a normal voice. Ben actually didn't want to do that. He wasn't sure he didn't want to bail out of this car yet. But then the kid turned to look at him, another passing street light illuminating a furious look on his face.

Ben slid back and grabbed the belt before the kid could use that voice on him.

The car was quiet, except for the roar of the engine and tire noise as the kid howled through town. It looked like they were headed to the hospital. That was good. So maybe Ben was okay to stay in the car.

Eventually, the kid pulled his hand away from Rebecca's face. He glanced at his hand, and Ben tried not to see the blood smeared across his skin. He could hear the girl breathing now, panting raggedly, fidgeting in front of him. He sighed, shaky and breathless, in relief.

"Rebecca, who was that?" the kid asked. Ben leaned to one side, trying to be quiet, to look forward into the passenger seat. Rebecca moaned. "Rebecca, please, I need to know who that was."

"I… I can't," she slurred. "I don't know."

"Why were you there?" he asked.

"I… we… I don't remember."

Ben looked between them as the kid swore under his breath. What was going on here? Did he think Rebecca personally knew that monster? And where had he even come from? He seemed entirely too calm about Rebecca's state, and he sure had been fast about getting them out of there.

"Who are you?" Ben demanded of the kid. He glanced back, over his shoulder. The lighting was better in this part of town, and Ben recognized the face.

"Abe Mitchell," the kid said. "I'm in your second period European History class." Ben nodded, leaning back slightly. He could see now that Abe was covered in tiny scratches and spots of blood.

What was going on? Where had Abe come from? And where had that wolf come and gone from, and those bats?

And that monster had turned into… mist.

Ben's eyes widened, and he looked again to Abe's hand, now on the steering wheel. Rebecca had been bleeding, he realized now. And she had been pale and chilled in his arms, limp. But now she was suddenly active again?

After… Abe told her to drink.

Ben stared at Abe. Abe threw a stern, sideways look back at him.

When they got to the hospital, Rebecca was still too dazed to walk. Ben carried her inside, and Abe led the way to the ER desk.

"Help," he said to the receptionist, "she's lost a lot of blood!" Ben swallowed another wave of nausea, not looking at Abe's right hand. There was a flurry as the receptionist got nurses into the room, as Rebecca was placed on a gurney and examined as she was wheeled away, as Abe told some bullshit story about the two of them jumping a fence when Ben caught them making out in the parking lot after dark. He threw a look back at Ben during that, looking embarrassed for just a second before his eyes hardened like stone on Ben. Ben responded with a shaken, but still emphatic, glare. As if he would ever in a million years say that it was actually a wolf, a monster that dissolved into vapor, and a swarm of bats that had done this. This kid must have thought he was a complete moron.

When things quieted down, Abe took a seat in the waiting room. Ben eventually sat down across from him. He didn't know Rebecca's emergency contact info, and he couldn't get it from the school at this point, but he had been able to give them her last name, at least. He had her in fourth period, he'd realized when he'd gotten any chance to look at her face. He hung his head and shivered, trying not to think about the moment when he'd picked her up and thought she was dead.

"So," Abe uttered. Ben pursed his lips, rubbing his face, then looked up hesitantly. Abe met his gaze. He looked… nervous. "How… how much of that did you see?"

Ben glanced around the room, but they were pretty much alone. He looked back to Abe, but couldn't meet his eye. Had Abe been the monster… or the wolf? He was the wolf, surely. Unless he was lying to ease Ben's suspicions… Would he do that? He was apparently a pretty quick liar.

"Enough," Ben said, his voice shaking. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Enough to know I probably shouldn't ask questions."

To his surprise, Abe laughed. Then he laughed again, putting a hand across his face to cover his eyes.

"Shit," Abe swore under his breath. Ben shivered. He really hoped this was a dream. It didn't feel like one. Abe lowered his hand to cover his mouth, looking into Ben's eyes. A flicker of fear and something primal in the base of his skull told Ben not to meet that gaze, so he looked away. "Would you believe me," Abe said, "if I told you that was all for film class?"

Ben glared up at Abe, then pointedly looked to the reception desk. Ben's heart was still pounding, his chest still ached from that awful breathlessness, and they were in the hospital, so no. Ben would not believe that.

"Sure," he said with a shrug. Abe frowned down at the low table between them. He looked pensive. Maybe Ben should have actually tried to make that convincing. Was there anything to stop Abe from turning into a wolf or a swarm of bats or a monster and killing Ben right now?

Holy shit. Abe had… Abe was a…

Ben felt dizzy. He put his head in his hands with a moan. If Abe wanted him dead, then there probably wasn't anything Ben could do to stop him. So there wasn't much point in fighting it.

"Are you gonna kill me?" Ben breathed, intentionally too quiet for a normal person to hear. There was silence between them for a moment. Ben was almost relieved.

"No," Abe whispered, dashing Ben's hopes. "But if that other… one recognized you, then you're still in danger."

This was a nightmare. No, no, Ben was probably actually just dead. He was dead already, and his brain was making up stories to explain it away with his last moments of oxygen. Or, he had just gone straight to Hell. That sucked. He thought he deserved Heaven. He wasn't perfect, but he gave more than he got.

"I'll need to protect you and Rebecca," Abe said. "Whoever that was, they're probably pissed now. They'll want to finish Rebecca off, and get at you just to make things worse for me." Ben stared at Abe. He was taking all of this way too well.

"Who are you?" Ben hissed. Abe looked up, meeting Ben's eye. Ben set his jaw, not looking away this time.

"Abraham," Abe said sternly, all of the youth drained from his boyish face. "Your bodyguard, until I tell you otherwise."

---

next

[potatoesandsunshine]

Please share the Preston Garvey thoughts! 🙏

i wish they were more coherent but at heart i just love 'Character Who Knows The World Is Terrible And Tries To Do Good Anyway' & i think preston is the perfect example of that!! something about meeting him in concord and not knowing how close to the edge he is just makes me lose my mind. he truly believes he's failed everyone he's ever tried to protect but he puts a brave face on for these last four people because they don't need to see that, they need him to at least pretend there's a way out - and then there is, because the sole survivor arrives and it's enough of a foothold to keep going a little longer!! and then he builds the minutemen back up into something worth fighting for and being part of (and i do give him credit for that - yeah sometimes the quest-giving got annoying but literally what can he do. another settlement genuinely needs our help) and just 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 thinking about him as the sole surviving member of the minutemen meeting The Sole Survivor is very 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 and THEN there's the MAIN PLOT of FALLOUT FOUR coming to be SUPER ANNOYING -

[gingermintpepper]

hey I hope you’re doing ok!! For the ask game, 🌈? Also perhaps ☔️?💧, even?

Hello hello, thank you for participating ☆ Once again, I can't comment on whether or not this extract is particularly fluffy but I do think it's rather sweet and it's definitely romantic so I think it's good for filling out both 🌈 and 💧!! It's an extract from what I've tentatively dubbed my 'Women and Apollo' doc which is essentially just a big running document I have dedicated to exploring themes and dynamics between Apollo and the women he's been entangled with! This extract in particular is from my Melia section 🥰

The night is a cold sheet spread across her shoulders. She wakes in pieces; first, her flesh, bracketed between the raw heat of Phoebus' bare chest and the sharp sting of the night air's fangs, then her mind, pleasure's fleeting haze quickly swept aside by panic then worry then guilt. What would Kaanthos say if he could see her now, bare breasted and stained in a male-god's desire? What would Father? No doubt she would have to cede the seat of the temple to Kaanthos. How could a carnal woman serve the people after all? And her river - oh, her sweet river! Would his waters even deign to soothe her scales when she was so completely drenched in the scent of a sky-god?

How foolish she's been, throwing everything away just because of some sweet words and a pretty face. Maybe Kaanthos truly did deserve the temple after all. Maybe Melia didn't deserve such a treasure if she was so easily seduced.

She sniffles softly, slipping gently from Phoebus' loose grip. His heat wafts off his skin like the warmth of a well-tended hearth, it lingers in her bones as she kneels in the grass of this unfamiliar field. It makes the sear of shame dig that much deeper into her heart. Phoebus had listened well to her warnings. He'd carried her someplace far away from flowing water, somewhere distant where her brother's scrying eyes could not reach. The tears welling in her eyes finally fall as she turns this way and that, utterly and completely lost without a source of water to follow. How could she return now? Even she was not bold enough to have the man she planned to reject take her back to her father's house.

Stupid girl. Foolish. How could she have been so short sighted?

"Melia?"

His voice is laden with sleep's husk, his arm makes little grabs at the grass searching for her shape. She swallows her tears and bids her voice to not betray her, "Here I am, my lord. You may go back to sleep."

The mildest furrow of his brow. When he turns his head, his hair flows like rich golden oil over the dark grass, "Come here," his hand keeps searching for hers, patting the ground, dragging long fingers over the dirt and frowning when he does not find her. "It is not yet morning, why have you fled so far from my side?"

Melia cannot help but laugh at his visage, clumsy and squinty-eyed, less the graceful gentleman who promised her a taste of change and more a bumbling kitten desperate for its mother's teat. She wipes her tears as quickly as she can muster, "If you but open your eyes, I'm certain you would find me."

He makes a grumbling noise, some cross between a boar's grunt and the crow's deep bellow, "Is this another of your games? I'm much too tired for games Melia." Finally, his finger grazes the edge of her ankle and like a child, he lights up, eyes still stubbornly closed but smile positively radiant, "Ah, there you are!" Diligently, he traces the shape of her leg with his open palm, measuring the smoothness of her calf, the swell of her knee, the broadness of her thigh, then he lays his head upon her, cheek pressed close to her stomach, heated back like warm coals against her skin. "So cool," he murmurs and kisses her stomach, throws his arm around her waist and nuzzles further into her skin, "Tell me when you've need of the water -" a dreadfully wide yawn interrupts him. "- I'll fetch it for you."

Melia finds herself laughing again, just a tiny thing as she runs her fingers through the thick waves of his hair. What is she to do now?

As for a fic idea I'd like to talk about since I don't know if I'll ever write it: Among the many, many, many things I'd like to write but probably never will, I really wish I could just sit down and write a story about Tenes and Hemithea. There's a lot of reasons why I have no plans to ever properly tackle anything regarding the Iliad - chief of which being that there's just too much information and the amount of research would be insane - but a lot of what I would potentially focus on have to deal with people and places Apollo loves and his inability to protect those things throughout the conflict starting with Tenes. I absolutely adore exploring Apollo's paternity in my writing and considering how fiersome Tenes was and how both he and Troilus would die protecting their sisters, I've just always wanted to dig into an exploration of their lives and connection with their father and how Tenes' death specifically would've affected Apollo. Like yeah, I know Troilus is usually the point of focus for such works especially because of the manner in which he was killed, but Tenes was also beloved! Also considering he was originally punished for being falsely accused of sexually assaulting his stepmother, I can't help but want to write his wrath when he realises what it is Achilles intends to do to Hemithea. Alas though, I don't think I'l ever get to do more than think longingly about it, at least right now lmao.

[dragon-spaghetti]

4, 14, 27, and 30 for the artist ask game, if that's not too many!

I also wanna say I LOVE your art!! You're one of my favorite Hazbin Hotel artists, and seeing your work on my dash pretty much every day has inspired me to sketch and explore art more <3

AH????? OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH THATS SO SWEET 🥹 YESSSSS DRAW YOUR LIL HEART OUT!!

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

Angel ilysm but your goddamn ARMS there are TOO DAMN MANY 😭 also struggle so much with Charlie and Alastor for some reason 💔

14. Any favorite motifs

Hmmmm don't think there tends to be many in my own works, however I fuckin LOVE seeing them in other peoples!!

27. Do you warm up before getting to the good stuff? If so, what is it you draw to warm up with

IVE BEEN TRYING TO DO MORE WARMUPS AS OF RECENT ACTUALLY I usually just do quick headshots of like. Angel or Husk since they're the easiest for me to draw on a whim!!

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

These two tbh 😭 the Stolas one was actually v experimental and took about 11 hours,, and I just love the Angel one so much it is my pfp for Everything lmao 💖

[blujayonthewing]

Hi I'm OCmaxxing right now and obviously that means I have to inflict that upon others too, so I wanna ask!

Now that you've had a decent chunk of time to play and develop Felix, is there anything about him that surprised you as you've warmed him up? Any details or traits that you had originally planned, but organically became something else once you started playing him? Any details that you hadn't planned, but somehow came out anyway? How has he changed since you first came up with him?

He's playful!! I guess I don't know that it's extremely surprising that he's playful and has a sense of humor in general, and he's still generally reserved/quiet among company, but he's definitely got a cheekier vibe than I expected him to-- he's a bit of a tease when he's relaxed/ comfortable, adding little quips to discussions and such. Part of his whole concept is that he likes people, but it turns out this applies very much to individual people as well as People In General-- he is constantly amused (affectionate) by the rest of the party, for the most part as endeared as he is intrigued by them. I was a little surprised at how much he smiles-- just leetol grins to himself, but I think I expected more Resting Neutral Face? But he (mostly) really likes the people he's around right now, and he wears it on his sleeve. He's not as flustered by conversation in general as I think I'd originally imagined, as long as he's not the center/ focus of it. On the flipside, he's not as bad about blurting out unfortunate things as I expected or intended, although admittedly I think this is as much to do with my player cowardice as it is his character choices, lmao. He's still not, like, being polite (voluntarily says something diplomatic rather than whatever he's actually thinking), but rather being polite (not saying Anything, controlling the impulse to verbalize thoughts as they enter his head).

He handles failure worse than I expected-- or, rather, he's comfortable with failure on his own, which I knew, but feeling like he's letting others down is something he takes really hard, it turns out. We had a situation where 1) he blamed himself (understandably, but incorrectly) for things breaking bad in the first place, and 2) he couldn't roll for shit and contributed Absolutely Nothing to the ensuing encounter, and afterwards he took it upon himself to banish himself from the group for awhile when we got back to town, partly out of shame and partly, I think, out of an assumption that Fucking Off would just be the best or most preferable thing for him to do, given the circumstances. I feel like there's sort of an emerging picture with him, through gameplay and also thinking more about his backstory since I started playing him, that part of the reason he's habitually on his own is that he feels (for [reasons]) that he doesn't have much in particular to offer anyone else, which of course is fine if he's just on his own doing his own thing for his own gratification but becomes a problem when he finds himself thrust by fate into A Group Dynamic, with people he immediately likes...

Big ol acts of service love language guy. He's gonna notice and remember tiny things about you and then quietly-- anonymously, if possible-- do something nice about it, which is the kind of thing I think I really had to find out by putting him with other people and watching what happens. Felix will see an opportunity to do a small and very personally tailored kindness and say 'is anyone gonna act on that' and not wait for an answer

[kyouka-supremacy]

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