#Look I started writing again

[frenchphobe]

griddlehark modern pen pal au where they don’t know each other but are assigned as pen pals for those pen pal projects you get in middle school and it just turns into them sending each other hate mail and somehow they just keep going for several years, even though they dont rly have to

[annasofthe11thdimension]

Pictured: Loop being extremely normal as they lay in their shallow (homemade) grave as they meditate on existence and also if they have annoyed the Researcher enough THIS time for her to murder them and bury them alive.

(Spoilers - they did not annoy her even CLOSE to that much.)

And there is the required reverse image of Odile arriving - she's had a LONG day (i.e. previous loop), and due to this it will take ten minutes before she even acknowledges the shallow grave Loop is laying in, as she was distracted complaining about what Siffrin just did to annoy her.

----

I'd say there's context for all of that, because like...there IS context? Here's the link to the series of fics that HAS that context even! But also...even with context...can't say that it's going to make any of this less weird.

Mostly Odile is looping because due to Loop's wish the universe got rewritten to make Siffrin's repression and emotional issues (the ones bad enough to get him stuck in a time loop in the game) 'someone else's' problem...or at least that's Loop's best theory atm!

Regardless, context or not, I'm quite happy with how the pics came out, and figured I might as well post them here too.

[elliethefroggy]

Operation Seduction

One night when Buck is a bit tipsy, he takes one of those online sexuality tests. The internet informs him that he’s bisexual.

After he sobers up, he starts to consider the possibility that he’s not as straight as he’d previously thought. He takes a few weeks to discretely stare at pretty men. Reads through some forums. Wanders into a few gay bars. Has one very messy make-out session with a man in one of those gay bars (it’s for science).

Thanks to his very scientific research, he realises that not everything you read on the internet is a lie, and that yes, he’s bisexual.

But that realisation doesn’t change the fact that he’s looking for a long-term commitment, no longer interested in flings and one night stands. He wants to settle down.

Though thanks to his recent revelation, this does mean that his dating pool has significantly expanded, allowing room for a whole new gender.

Then in waltzes Tommy, here to save the day. Here to fly them into a literal hurricane. Tommy Kinard. Hot pilot extraordinaire with an amazing cleft chin, an even better ass, pecks Buck wants to smother himself with, and attractive amount of confidence to boot.

How could Buck resist?

But before he gets ahead of himself, Buck has to figure out if Tommy is actually attracted to men. This is rendered easy by the fact that Chimney can’t keep a secret to save his life and is always willing to wax poetic about how cool Tommy is. One not-so-subtle interrogation later, Buck is now aware that Tommy is both very gay and very single.

Excellent.

The next obvious step is to see if Tommy is attracted to Buck. Now Buck knows how to pick up woman. He’s very good at it. He imagines it can’t be that much different to pick up men (if his one make-out session with a man was anything to go by).

But Buck is a changed man. He is Buck 4.0. He doesn’t want to hook up with Tommy. He doesn’t want a one-night stand or a messy make out session in a dark corner of a bar. He doesn’t want to start dating Tommy immediately after sleeping with him only for their relationship to fizzle out a few months down the line because of lack of communication and a misunderstanding of each other’s wants and needs.

So he tests the waters first. Starts hanging out with Tommy more. Gets an invite to those pub quizzes. Takes Tommy up on those flying lessons. Invites Tommy out to as many pretentious craft breweries he can find (that’s another hot tip he weaseled out of Chim).

During all this, his shorts get smaller and smaller. His tops get skimpier and more form-fitting. He wears less sleeves. He starts discreetly flexing in Tommy’s company. He rushes to the gym area whenever Tommy visits the fire station, showing off how much he can lift. He also uses any excuse to take his shirt off around Tommy to the point of pretending to spill greek yogurt all over his front on two occasions.

Buck pays close attention to Tommy’s every expression. He notices when Tommy’s eyes linger on the almost indecent amount of skin Buck is showing. Notices Tommy staring at Buck’s biceps whenever Buck forgoes sleeves. Notices Tommy’s gaze slide down to Buck’s lips whenever they’ve had a little too much fancy craft beer.

Operation Seduction is a go.

Buck ever so slowly starts making their hangouts more and more romantic.

At first, it’s just sandwiches on a bench in a nice park after a shared workout session.

Yes, he did stake out the park beforehand.

Yes, he did choose a nice, secluded bench where they wouldn’t bothered by too many people.

Yes, the bench just so happens to be located next to a very nice flower bed.

And yes, he did spend an hour preparing these sandwiches before the gym, and they tasted fucking fantastic. Admittedly, the deliciousness of the sandwiches does become detrimental when Tommy bites into his and moans around his mouthful.

He takes Tommy out to a nice restaurant with low lighting, cosy booths and excellent pasta. No candles on the table yet, though; it’s too soon for candles. But, the tables are small enough that Buck and Tommy’s long legs are pressed together during the whole meal.

He starts carrying around Tommy’s favourite snacks whenever he has a flying lesson.

(Buck’s heard that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and Buck is taking that very seriously).

Buck thinks his plan is going brilliantly, that he’s the height of discretion.

Tommy being Tommy, he notices all of this. From Buck’s outfits losing more and more fabric to the ever-closing distance between their bodies. He lets it play out for while, wanting to see where Buck goes with whatever he’s doing, but all Buck does is shower him in ever more delicious sandwiches.

It’s not until they’re having a not-officially-romantic walk along the beach as the sun is setting that Tommy finally asks the question he’s been puzzling over for a few weeks.

“What exactly is going on here, Evan?” Tommy asks.

“What do you mean?” Buck asks back, knowing exactly what Tommy is referring to, but trying to buy himself a little time. He’s figuratively hitting himself over the head because of course a sunset walk along the beach was too obvious. They should have gone bowling instead; there’s nothing romantic about bowling shoes.

“Come on,” Tommy says, “The fancy dinners, the even fancier sandwiches, the sunset walks,” he says, waving at the beach they were standing on, the gentle orange rays turning everything soft and golden.

“Ah. Right. That.” Buck says, pondering what to say. He settles on honesty because he would have had to admit to his plan eventually though that was meant to be at the end of Part 3 of Operation Seduction, and he’s only half way through Part 2. “Well, I’m attempting to seduce you.”

It takes a moment for the words to truly register in Tommy’s mind. And then hope inches its way in.

Because Tommy had an inkling that Evan was attracted to him. But he hadn’t allowed the hope to grow; he’d been burned one too many times when it came to romance.

Tommy enjoys Evan’s company, enjoys it more than he probably should. Evan was a fun, lovable man with a beautiful personality and the face to match. What’s not to like. But Tommy hadn’t wanted to ruin their growing friendship by testing out if Evan really liked him or not.

And here’s Evan, having the courage to try what Tommy could not.

“If you’re not interested, I’ll stop immediately, of course. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Evan says when Tommy is quiet for too long.

“I never said I wasn’t interested.” Tommy says immediately, and then watches as a gigantic and oh so sincere smile blossoms on Evan’s face. Tommy can’t do anything but smile back.

“That’s good. Because I really like you,” Evan says.

“Yeah?” Tommy asks, trying to not sound as breathless as he feels because that hope that he has been beating down with a broom is rising up tenfold.

“Yeah,” Evan says, “Does this mean I can continue seducing you?”

“Seduce away,” Tommy says, then adds because he wants Evan to understand, “But you do know I don’t need all that?” Tommy is more than willing to start making out with Evan on the spot now that he knows he hasn’t been imagining all the wanting looks Evan’s been sending his way.

“But I want to,” Evan says, “It’s just, well, I’ve been told that I sometimes take things too fast, especially with dating, and I’m trying to be better about that. I want to be better. I want to do this properly. You’re the kind of person who deserves it. You deserve to be properly courted.”

“Courted? I’m being courted now.”

“Yes.” Evan nods. And Evan means every word, and Tommy sees that, and Tommy really wants that.

“Okay,” Tommy says because what else do you say when a hot, sincere, wonderful guy informs you that he wants to court you in the 21st century? You agree.

After that conversation, they are both on the same page. They’re not dancing around each other, they’re actively dancing towards one another. Though it’s less dancing and more Evan sashaying towards Tommy, a peacock strutting about with its tail feathers out on full display. They both know full well where this is going, how this dance ends, and they’re both happy to take their time on the journey there.

(Though Tommy is a bit impatient to get to the kissing part because he thinks he’ll enjoy kissing Evan quite a lot. But the joy on Evan’s face whenever Evan gets to do something even remotely romantic for Tommy makes the wait worthwhile.)

Once Buck has Tommy’s full permission to continue with seducing him, Operation Seduction goes to a whole new level. No longer needing to be subtle with his interest, Buck gleefully skips all the way to Part 5.

He goes on full seductor mode.

And Tommy has no idea what to do with himself. He hadn’t realised how much Evan was holding back until Tommy gave him the ‘go ahead’, but having Evan’s full attention on him is a thing to behold.

There are hikes in the hills surrounding LA accompanied by picnics at the very top with spectacular views and spectacular company (and also sandwiches that somehow get even fancier).

There is even more craft beer in places so obscure that even Tommy’s never heard of.

There are movie nights filled to the brim with some of Tommy’s favourite romcoms.

It’s not until Evan takes them to a drive-in movie of Love Actually that Tommy realises Evan has an informant, but Tommy is having so much fun that he doesn’t give Chim shit for revealing all his secrets to Evan.

Evan opens the door for Tommy at every opportunity he can get. When they drive somewhere together, Evan will ask Tommy to wait so that Evan can rush around the car to open Tommy’s door for him all the while Tommy stares at him bemused, but charmed all the same.

There are candle-lit dinners with rose petals scattered over the tablecloth. Tommy’s being showered in so many amazing home-cooked meals that he considers upping his work-outs just so he can eat more of them.

And flowers. There are so many flowers. The first time Evan offers him a bouquet, Tommy doesn't know what to say; no one has ever given him flowers before. Tommy couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day. He’s sure Evan noticed because barely a week later, he gets another bouquet. Tommy had to go and buy himself a vase because he didn’t have anywhere to put them.

Throughout all of this, Evan is constantly asking Tommy if something is ok, checking in to make sure Tommy isn’t uncomfortable.

On their second sunset walk along a beach, Evan asks Tommy if he can hold Tommy’s hand. And of course, Tommy says yes. Evan’s hand is about as big as Tommy’s, and it’s so warm in Tommy’s own.

After that, Evan is always asking to hold Tommy’s hand no matter where they are or what they’re doing. Tommy says yes every single time. Even if it’s during a long hike or just after a gym session together when their hands are both sweaty and disgusting. And despite doing it so often, Evan always has that big smile on his face whenever Tommy agrees. Tommy is just the same.

But after a few weeks, the anxiety starts creeping in.

Because Tommy’s not used to this. Not used to so much effort being put into dating him (Are they even dating yet? Tommy’s not sure; it definitely feels like dating. But when in the courting process is Tommy allowed to call it dating? He should ask Evan for clarification.)

When it comes to romantic relationships, Tommy is usually the one doing all the work, coming up with all the outing ideas. He’s not used to the reverse, and he’s not completely sure how he’s meant to act in this situation.

When he asks Evan if he should be returning the seduction, Evan smiles at him and says, “You ask me that as though you haven’t already inadvertently seduced me. That terrible fake mouth static really did it for me.”

Evan informs him that he’s meant to sit back and enjoy the ride, nothing more. And so Tommy does.

(Tommy does also ask if they’re allowed to call it dating yet, but according to Evan’s clipboard and the very detailed spreadsheet attached to the clipboard, it is still too early call it dating. Tommy nods in agreement when Evan informs him of that, but Tommy still calls it dating in his head.)

(Tommy tries to ignore how hot and bothered it makes him to see Evan with the clipboard because, according to the spreadsheet, what he wants to do to Evan is not in the cards any time soon.)

But then it’s Buck’s turn to be anxious. The last time he took it this slow was with Abby, and that did not end well.

Despite the very detailed plan, despite all the thought he’s put into Operation Seduction, he wonders if maybe he’s taking it too far.

He knows not everyone likes this pedantic side of him, especially when he’s got a clipboard at hand.

When he shares these worries with Tommy, when he suggests that maybe they give up the plan entirely and just admit that they’ve basically already been dating for months, Tommy refuses.

“You made a colour-coded spreadsheet. Of course, we’re finishing the plan.” Tommy is invested now even though he has long since been seduced. Also, fuck knows how much time Evan took to make the spread-sheet. “What’s next?” He asks.

Evan smiles as he looks down at his phone to open said-spreadsheet (constantly carrying around a clipboard can be a hassle, so he also has a digital version on his phone. Tommy would not mind constantly seeing Evan with a clipboard).

“Uh, right. Next up is star-gazing.”

And so they go star-gazing, and they have an amazing time, just like they always do.

One day, Evan hesitantly asks Tommy if he wants to go on a hot air balloon ride. Like every time Evan asks him for something, Tommy says yes.

Even though Tommy is used to these heights, the hot air balloon ride is amazing (though that could have more to do with Evan than anything. Evan who handed him the largest bouquet of flowers yet before they lifted off and who packed them a whole bunch of Tommy’s favourite snacks for the ride.)

As they admire the view, Evan showers him in so many hot air balloon facts that even the person flying them is riveted.

Evan quiets down after a while because even he had to run out of facts eventually.

Instead, they quietly watch the small world beneath them, shoulders pressed against one another, not an inch of room between them. And it’s nice. It’s so wonderfully nice that Tommy’s starting to suspect that that he’s going to want to keep this, to keep Evan for a long, long while.

“So how far along in the plan are we?” Tommy asks instead of asking how much longer before he gets to kiss Evan.

“Actually, funny you should mention that. This is actually the before-last part of the plan.”

“What’s the last?” Tommy asks.

Evan turns to face him, their shoulders no longer pressed together, but their bodies still so close.

“Tommy Kinard,” Evans says, grabbing Tommy’s hand and interlacing his fingers with Tommy’s, “Will you do me the honour of dating me?”

“There is nothing I would love more,” Tommy says, because again, what else can he say?

They lean into each over even further. Tommy lets go of Evan’s hand and instead places two fingers underneath Evan’s chin, tilting Evan’s head up towards him. And finally, after all this time, they kiss.

Operation Seduction is a resounding success, and the infamous spreadsheet will one day be framed and hanging in a place of honour in their future home.

[suja-janee]

what are your thoughts on Harumi x Kuai Liang (I need to see them in your art style)

To be completely honest with you, I’m still neutral to them- but he looked pretty happy in the recent trailers!

[gbirrd]

6/9 - Jason Todd tarot card designs for Complete Candor by @vexfulfolly as part of the @batfam-big-bang

Read the fic here!

Other cards:

1-Babs 2-Cass 3-Bruce 4-Tim 5-Damian 6-Jason 7-Duke 8-Steph 9-Dick

Image IDs

Image 1:

A design of "The Devil" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "THE DEVIL". A symbol of a gravestone is visible behind the numeral "XV".

A young Jason Todd in his Robin uniform tugs at a thick chain around his neck that comes down from the top of the frame. Matching shackles are around his wrists and he is buried up to his waist in dirt. His head is tilted up towards the chain. There is blood on his hands, arms, chest, and dripping down the right side of his face as well as from his nose.

Image 2:

A design of "The Devil" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "THE DEVIL" upside-down. A symbol of a flame is visible behind the numeral "XV".

Jason Todd faces forward, filling most of the frame. He is in his Red Hood uniform and has narrowed pupil-less white eyes. He is holding the end of a thick chain in his right fist. Flames fill the background and bathe him in an orange light. The entire card is upside-down.

[antleredreality]

[somegrumpynerd]

Does anyone else hc that Nightmare can like, absorb his tentacles back into his body sometimes? Like the way Stitch does with his extra arms?

[flickeringquip]

Convince the Fighter abstinence is bad for his health. There may be consequences(?) <<

Part 2 of this post, feat. @thedolmainblog's Blythe

(smut continues below the cut + link for the full nsfw aster pic)

(full & uncropped picture here)

(1) Arrive at Blythe's flat.

It's only when the engine cuts out from beneath you that you realize you're shaking, clinging to Blythe as tightly as you can. It would be easy to assume it was from some manner of fright or nerves from the reckless ride—

But it was certainly not fear that had your face burning beneath your helmet, caught somewhere between dazed by the experience and mortified at the very real worry you'd left a stain on the leather seat of Blythe's bike.

Blythe who disentangles himself from you with little difficulty despite your death grip, dismounting in a smooth, practised motion before turning sharply back in your direction. A few seconds later finds you free of your helmet — and realizing all at once that he hadn't worn one.

"You shouldn't ride one of these things without a h—" The concerned admonishment slips free of you before you even really think about it, but your scolding is interrupted when the Fighter hoists you onto his shoulder like a particularly prized sack of potatoes, your voice pitching high as you cling to the back of his shirt, "—elMET!"

(1) And once again you're along for the ride as Blythe makes for his apartment with the same single-minded focus as before.

You expect this ride to be much shorter than the last, and it is, but you can't help but be a little confused when you aren't set down as Blythe steps into his apartment like you'd been expecting.

It's a confusion that only grows when you remain slung over his shoulder as he locks his door. As he crosses the length of his apartment. As he steps into what you assume to be his bedroom.

He only lets you down when it's to drop you the short distance to his bed, leaving you to blink up at him as he whips his shirt off and tosses it somewhere out of your line of sight.

(1) Get a little distracted ogling Blythe's chest and biceps.

Look.

The man is shredded.

You may be a little restrained compared to some other residents of this hell hole, but you do have eyes. Eyes that are all too happy dip as Blythe shoves his trousers down his hips, and you aren't sure if he had simply skipped on boxers or if they went down with the pants, but it's a question that'll have to wait, because—

(1) Turns out Blythe was very proportional.

In the span of time it takes for you to force yourself to stop gawking at him, Blythe closes the distance between the two of you once more, stripping you from the top down with the same ruthless efficiency he'd rid himself of his own clothes. The last to go are your own pant and panties, tugged off in one go that leaves you splayed on your back on his bed, more exposed in front of someone than you've been in a long time.

"It's-" Your tongue sticks to a suddenly dry mouth as you push yourself into a seated position just in time for the Fighter to lift one knee to the bed — your voice pulls his attention up from your body so fast it almost startles you, the intensity in his gaze more than enough to have you squirming a little beneath his attention, "It's been a bit for me, that is, since the last time I, y'know— I mean, not as long as it's been for you of course—"

After transitioning to working for Landry full time, you had seen no need to continue doing sex work on the side; working for the Criminal had proven more than profitable enough, and you didn't even have to see Bailey's stupid face anymore thanks to automatic deposits. And without that pressure to constantly have to make more money, you simply had found your interest in sex greatly reduced.

You weren't unhinged about it like someone — and besides, you weren't part demon, so it's not like being abstinent would've even hurt you the same way — but it wasn't uncommon for you to go months and months between your little dalliances. You'd never experienced sexual attraction quite like most of your peers, and you found that now that it wasn't a transaction, you generally needed to get to know the person before you'd even really think about sex.

(1) Which was really all to say: you weren't fitting him anywhere without some prep first.

The moment you opened your mouth to offer to handle it yourself (look, you'd never really gotten the hang of the whole 'rely on others' thing), a yelp stole free of you instead. Why?

It probably had something to do with how Blythe grabs your thighs and yanks you towards the end of the bed, looking for the world like he'd heard the words you'd been about to say and found them truly, deeply insulting.

And then his gaze dips between down to your legs as he hoists each of your thighs over one of his shoulders, you, well—

(1) You're not sure what's going to kill you faster: the sudden shocks of intense arousal or the overwhelming embarrassment.

And you just wanted it on the record that you're hardly some blushing virgin, and while you have far more experience giving oral than receiving it, you had been eaten out before. It was just. . . a long time ago. By a client you really hadn't liked much.

And yeah, fine, you are blushing, but it's because this is Blythe, who you'd formed something resembling a friendship just by proxy of co-existing in the same spaces long enough for you to get a little attached — even if you hadn't really thought he felt the same. It had never bothered you, if the people you cared about reciprocated the feeling; you'd managed to shake the guilt over the years, but the caretaking habits had held fast. And it had been nice, knowing someone else who had clear, simple loyalties — him to Aiden, you to Landry. You didn't have to really worry about navigating weird backstabbing bullshit, and if down the line your respective employers' relationship turned sour, well. . .

. . .There wouldn't have been hard feelings, at least.

(But wow, that's an anxiety that's gonna haunt you later, isn't it?)

Which was ALL to say, you think you have a pretty solid grasp on what's about to happen as Blythe yanks you a bit closer, close enough that the feel of his breath has your thighs jolting a little overtop his shoulders.

(1) It only takes one lap of his tongue for those confident expectations of yours to Go Out. The Fucking. Window.

Because you were so wrong, holy shit, you were so wrong it's not even funny, you hadn't even come close up realizing what you were in for—

But how could you have possibly known he'd be this good? That it would only take a couple minutes for you to be squirming something fierce in his hold, mewling as his tongue laves through slick, sensitive folds to flick against your clit. That it would take barely a few minutes more to find yourself cumming embarrassingly fast, hips jerking fruitlessly in his hold as he keeps your climax going for as long as physically possible, pausing only when you slump in his hold, breathing hard.

". . .Why on earth are you so good at that?" The words spill out of you as soon as you have enough air for them, an arm tossed up and over your eyes because you aren't sure you could survive whatever sight he must make between your legs right now, "You've been abstinent for like— Ack!"

The startled squeak that leaves you is far from dignified, but that's a hard thing to maintain when Blythe slides your thighs off his shoulders — only to push them up towards your chest instead, making use of your flexibility to all but remove your ability to squirm and wiggle as he holds you in that position with just his hands.

. . . It's both a little insulting and incredibly enticing how little effort it takes him to keep you pinned down like this.

(1) That's the last coherent thought you have for awhile, because—

Blythe isn't satisfied with only making you cum on his tongue once. The man eats you out like a man posssessed, and each new noise he pulls from you only seemed to encourage him. And when he closes his lips around your clit with a moan that you feel all the way to your core and you're all but thrown into your next orgasm, he works you through it and keeps going until the next one, until your thighs are trembling in his grasp and you keen loudly enough for the sound to echo throughout his room. It's only then that he at last pulls away, and even the groan that escapes him is enough to have you whimpering from sensitivity.

Your legs feel like jello when he finally releases them, pleasure long having robbed your limbs of any semblance of strength. For all that you haven't really done anything, you feel like you've run a marathon, flushed and panting. Blythe's palms are rough against your skin as he smoothes his hands down the backs of your still faintly-trembling thighs, a soothing gesture—

And one that is very at odds with the salacious way he licks his lips and the ravenous glint in his eyes.

(1) Which is obviously a great time for you to realize that you had yet to even really touch him, let alone help him release all that pent up stress form his abstinence.

"Do you want—" A true seductress you are, truly a vixen to be feared, your words winded and blurted as your hand meets his thigh and sweeps upwards, "I could suck you off—?"

Your fingers don't quite get to brush against him before you find your hand caught in his grasp, a full-body shudder rolling down your spine when Blythe growls and guides both of your hands above your head, pressing both wrists hard into his sheets with one hand in clear command — stay — before letting go.

You- you stay.

"Next time," His voice is even rougher than usual, guttural in a way that would've made your thighs clench, had he not already reduced them to jello — he splays a hand over your belly that feels hot enough to brand, something in you coiling hot and tight beneath your skin, "Only place 'm gonna cum tonight is inside you."

(1) This man was going to fucking kill you.

A fact you become more and more sure of when Blythe hits you with that fucking bombshell and does not immediately fuck you into next week, because first he has to loosen you up a little first.

Any attempts on your end to convince him you probably don't need any more prep are utterly ignored as he works one, and then two fingers inside of you — and, to his credit and despite your assurances, even with you all but dripping off his wrist thanks to his earlier affections, there's just enough of a stretch to it to make you shift in discomfort.

And for all that you might have expected him to call you on being wrong about how ready you might have been, Blythe seems to instead throw all of that energy into actually accomplishing that goal. There's a level of meticulous care to the careful way he works you open that you wouldn't have thought possible for someone in his state, and it does things to you, things that have you clenching around his fingers with a shivery little moan.

(1) The sound seems to chip away at the remnants of restraint you're not even sure how he's been hanging onto.

Blythe fingers you through two more orgasms — once with his thumb pressing sinful circles around your swollen clit and another by fucking his fingers and curling them into a spot that makes your legs shake with every stroke — before you start to crack.

Like you'd been the one who'd had a decade-long stint of abstinence.

"—Please," There's just enough desperation in your voice to bring Blythe to a pause as he teased a third finger against your entrance, one trembling leg hooked over his forearm to keep you spread wide for his touch, "I'm ready, I-I promise I am, please Blythe, I want- I need you to—"

Blythe seems to freeze above you, but you keep pushing, because you're not sure how much more of this you'll possibly be able to survive but you know you have to at least accomplish the singular thing you'd set out to when you'd kissed him.

(1) "I need you to fuck me, Blythe, please—!"

Even if you hadn't already been spread too thin to have room for embarrassment, you simply wouldn't have had time to even feel things like that with how fast Blythe sets upon you. The words have barely slipped past your lips when you find them claimed, the kiss as ravenous as the man himself as he hitches your thighs up around his hips, the heavy weight of his cock a brand against your dripping sex that has you both moaning in tandem.

Blythe doesn't leave you in suspense, driven by a lust you barely imagine as he lines himself up and pushes forward with a groan so deep in his chest you can feel it through him and it's—

It's a lot.

Your arms twine tight around his neck as your legs squeeze tight against his hips, needing something to ground you against the almost dizzying sense of fullness as Blythe sinks deeper inside of you inch by agonizing, amazing inch. You realize at once why he thought to prep you to three fingers, but it is not pain that has your nails scrabbling against his back as you cling tighter to him.

It's the way every inch he sinks deeper has you pulsing around his cock; the way his weight above you presses you down into his sheets like he never wants to part from you; the way his lips suck bruising marks into your pulse; the way he sounds, the shuddering gasps and broken groans breathed right into your ear—

(1) And above it all it's the words spilling from him like the sweat across your brows, rough and breathless and adoring.

"Fuck, you feel—"

"You're so—"

"Perfect, fuck, Aster, you're perfect—"

And it's his fault, it really is, it's his fault because you're already so sensitive, so hyper-aware of his everything, and what right did he have to say your name like that? To talk to you like that? Of course you find yourself pushed to the very edge just as you feel him press flush against the back of your thighs, and realizing you'd taken every last inch of him does things to the both of you.

"Blythe—" Your voice quivers alongside the rest of you, his name nearly a keen as tension winds tighter in your middle, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to hold yourself together just a little bit longer—

(1) Only for them to fly open with a yelp at a stinging smack to your hip.

"Eyes on me," Blythe chooses then to begin to pull back, establishing a rhythm that's slow but deep as you shiver and squeeze around his cock, his words half-groan, half-command, "Want to watch you— cum."

His hips snap forward with a force that steals the breath from your lungs, feeling what scant control you'd mustered beginning to slip as you turn your burning cheek to the side despite his demand—

Only for the sound to taper off into a whimper when strong fingers catch you just under your jaw and turn you back to face him with a strength that brooks no room for argument and the barest little squeeze that sets your already racing heart beating even faster.

Your lashes flutter unsteadily, vision blurring as you desperately try to hold your pleasure at bay when every slam of Blythe's hips threatens to send you careening over the edge.

"Aster," One of his hands slips down from your hip, and your whole body jolts beneath with a stuttering cry as his thumb presses into your clit with tight, devastating little circles, "Cum for me."

(1) And damn him, you do.

A pleasure crashes through you that blinds you to all else; light splintering through a prism as waves of heat burn through your veins. Some distant part of you is sure you're going to be mortified by the noises you're making right now, sure to wake his neighbors, but you cannot stop them anymore that you could the climax currently shattering you to pieces.

And throughout it all, Blythe's rhythm only grows more desperate, the sordid sound nearly as loud as you as he fucks you deeper into his bed — and beneath it all, you can hear his voice, a strained mantra of curses as his fingers squeeze and shake around your hips.

(1) And all at once, even beneath the all-consuming tide of your climax, you're filled with a fierce, singular desire: make Blythe cum — isn't that why you'd come?

(a few times, at this point.)

"Blythe, p-please—" It's all you can do to mewl the words, your voice raw from all your cries and still shuddering through your own release; it takes everything you have to focus up on him with blurry eyes, to keep them on him like he'd wanted because you want to be good for him, "You p-promised— wanna feel you cum i-inside, please—!"

"Fuck—" He tenses above you, every muscle taut as his his hips slam into once, twice more—

Before a scalding heat bursts inside of you as Blythe makes a noise so relieved he sounds almost pained by it, fucking you through his orgasm while the feel of him has you whimpering a new, aftershocks of your own pleasure skittering up your spine.

(1) You all but melt into his sheets, feeling well-fucked and accomplished.

Blythe's lips meet yours in a kiss sweet enough to make your chest warm, hands rubbing up and down your sides as he breathes praise against your lips; how well you'd taken him, how perfect you feel, how perfect you are for him — and you ride an altogether different kind of high, a euphoria that has you shuddering as you coast along cloud-nine.

Before you can sink too deeply into the afterglow, all soft-limbed and sleepy-eyed even as the slow drag of Blythe's cock from inside of you, the spill of his cum making your face flush anew—

(1) You're startled back into full-alert as Blythe rises to his knees and rolls you onto your belly, pulling your hips back towards himself and pushing back inside of you with a groan.

"Blythe?" You shake and squeak below him, twisting to look over your shoulder in time to watch and feel him tug your hips higher, trembling thighs unable to support your own weight but so easily supported by his strength, "D-didn't you just—"

He does not start slow this time, setting a rough pace that quickly finds you keening into his pillows; you're just so sensitive now, pleasure bringing tears to your eyes as you squirm, only to yelp when Blythe answers your wiggling with a spank that makes you squeeze around him for reasons you aren't going to think about.

And then you hear a word you've heard once before tonight already, a pattern he's spent all night establishing as his fingers slip over your hip to find your clit, still flushed and swollen from his loving abuse—

"Again, love."

(1) And for the first time this evening you begin to realize the predicament you'd gotten yourself into. Good luck!

[deoidesign]

Quick re-do of a 4 year old piece

[varyathevillain]

no joke but what I really want for Buddy Daddies as a fandom is to make fanart and fanfic post present time ep12 where Rei wears an arm orthosis when working.

I think varied disability aids being represented would be fantastic, and personally would write Rei as someone being deeply proud of something he's done for his family, but also understanding with time that using an orthosis also helps him at work and in raising Miri. with a giant portion of mobility/motorics aids being represented by prosthetics, seeing more variety and exploring it in fiction would also help making a step in normalising disability treatments.

[psychomusic]

oc time again! + her town & culture (heavily inspired by pre-roman italic populations)

she is suri sauthon. her story is linked to my swtor imperial agent, tar'x, but most of her life except for the one year away where she meets him, is spent in a town in the mountains of mirial.

despite mirial being cold and desert, and many cities developing underground, her town flourishes thanks to a force nexus, venerated in the form of an ancient, sacred, alive crystal. the ecosystem of that mountain depended on what "the horned crystal" was capable of giving them, but mirialans couldn't live off of that alone, so they developed trade and some rudimental technology, even if oftentimes it was bought thanks to the highly profitable trade of a plant used to make medicines that slowed down aging and had overall healing properties.

note: everything that's generated by this nexus has these healing properties BUT they have to be processed, except for those who bathed in the waters of the cavity under the crystal - the "real" nexus, but not the worshipped one. the waters were sacred but they were not thought to be miraculous, unlike the crystal, who instead was thought of as the keystone of the ecosystem: without it, everything would fall apart (and that is partially true: the cavity was the "real" nexus but thanks to the crystal, also strong in the force, the properties were spread all over the mountains). those who bathed in the cavity's waters - so, all of the town, who had a sort of baptism there - could eat the plant, make whatever food with it, and not only that plant, but everything generated by the nexus, that, again, had similar properties. this allowed people to live up to normal life-spans without advanced medicines or, much, really. to those who didn't live there, though, after the processing, had incredible effects, slowing down aging - for those who took it regularly - and making people able to live up to half a century more than the average]

originally, there were four tribes of nomads that lived thanks to horned farm animals that decided to settle down into one bigger town and other smaller settlements, to live off of transhumance. this division of the tribes stayed into the political and social organization: every person belonged to one tribe specifically, and had slightly different rituals and culture. for examples, each tribe had their own priests and healers, with different techniques and traditions. the town, tho, was guided by a group of people in the high priesthood, a position you could reach only by having earned the trust of all tribes. those high priests had many roles: they guided the people into sacred processions common to all the tribes, they managed the trading with outsiders, they did the maintenance of the temple of the summit (the one that functioned as casket to the crystal) and created a special liquid to offer the crystal that helps it grow.

this particular temple was important because 1. it was very visible, from every angle of the town, and it became an important identity symbol; 2. it stored the venerated horned crystal; 3. it had the altar where sacrifices were made for the crystals. that altar had a hole connected to the cavity, that allowed the liquids to reach the underground; 4. it had various symbols: statues representing each tribe + the high priesthood, and typical mirialan tattoos carved into the wood of the trees that served as columns for the temple, symbolizing 8 values that who dared to enter HAD to have; 5. it was on the way to an important lake (called "mother lake" because the lake the town was built around to depended on the waters of that other lake) where they traveled to in important processions; 6. it was said that a the wizard who unified the tribes made it with its magic, making the plant grow to hold the temple's roof. this wizard was, actually, a force user, obv.

BACK TO HER THOUGH: she's daughter of one of the high priests, who was in charge of managing the trades with outsiders, and lives in a house on the mountains with her mother and him. her parents are from different tribes (that's one of the things that earned him trust from the 4 tribes): when a child is born from two different tribes, they don't pick one to allign to, but they're usually linked automatically to the one with more relatives in it (in her case, the father's tribe: she had many uncles and aunts on his side while her mom only had one sister).

later, though, she got quite tied to her mother's tribe due to a mysterious illness that only her mother's tribe healer was able to cure. she spent 4 years (from 10 to 14 years old) living with the healer and learned her secrets. to better study, she wrote them down. when she returned home, she studied to become a priestess with her father. at 22 (the average age: you can't become priest before your 20s), she was supposed to take a test and become a priestess, but the healer of her mother's tribe died and the tribe asked her to take her place. she couldn't technically do that, but both tribes estimated both her and her parents and she was allowed to become both. she then decided to try to become a high priestess, and became one at 25 (a quite young age). being part of the council, she tried to convince the various tribe healers to unite their knowledges and write them down, and eventually made it. healers still remained tribe based but they now had an "upper, inter-tribe level" similar to high priesthood.

years later, the sacred horned crystal is stolen from the temple by some Hutt mercenaries looking for a profit. given the trust she has earned from all the tribes and the fact that her father is the high priest that deals with outsiders (and she's been hearing stories and advice about it since she was little), she is the one tasked with getting it back. without the growing crystal, the keystone to their ecosystem, the village would have lasted only a few years. in hrr quest, she meets imperial intelligence agent tar'x laran and, as they "solve the mystery" and fight to have it back, they get closer. they'll get married and have a daughter, Vegoia (who's the only one who actually will get to the plot of my story. this was all background)

[hailsatanacab]

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year. 

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..." 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he... 

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb. 

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

[lemonadehtwooh]

If I have to see One More fucking post that makes Alhaitham a "daddy dom" and Kaveh into a "soft uwu sub" I'm going to fucking kill someone

[marblerose-rue]

basking in moonlight

[causenessus]

hi! i'll keep this short

i came to the realization everytime i've disappeared from tumblr to "take a break" i never really have because of other things going on in my life (which, duh, this isn't my whole life) but! i also realized that if i never actually take the time to recover and rest and think about things i should be writing i'll never feel better. so! i'm (once again)(but now more formally) going on hiatus until maybe may! i might pop in for spring break or earlier if i feel like it, but until then, not really any writing from me! with that being said, i'll still be around, doting on my moots (i.e. like, dorothea <3 wyr <3 and bug <3) because i love them so much and i will probably also post chapters of present ever so often! the reason being (i'm going to try to make this make sense but it may only make sense to me but i'm aware of how contradicting i am to me five seconds ago when i said i need to take a break from writing) present is a very personal fic for me that i've worked on for years at this point. what i'm posting now are chapters i wrote months ago after I've read over and edited them (or in the case of the upcoming chapter, i did randomly add it in and had to write it from the ground up last week lmao) but if it isn't obvious, present is a work i'm very passionate about and am just posting in case anyone else enjoys it but it feels like it's a work that is very individualized just for me and it doesn't cause me any stress or anxiety. on the topic of individualization, although i am of course so so thankful for all of the support and people that follow me, i do sort of miss when my blog and world were a lot smaller. it's something i feel like i only get when i get to reply to people in comments, but other than that, all the numbers and people on my feed give me a lot of anxiety. the hq (smau fandom especially) fandom or at least how much i'm (was) involved in it has grown exponentially and of course i'm happy about that but it's a bit too much for me. i'll be taking a huge step back from the fandom and any hq works i've written at least in the meantime, but that's not to say they'll never be finished! but i either need to grow to handle the bigger audience that now reads my works or wait for things to grow a little smaller again :) i hope to still be able to read my moots works but forgive me if it takes me a bit or i never get to them! i think at the least i'll still like them to show my support <3 thank you if you read my long ramble! i love you all <3

oh also i'll probably post self ship moodboards and the beginning of my reading list (thank you again dorothea for the idea <3)! but again, I think you get the idea by now; I want to go back to doing this for me! so this is a tiny little goodbye now i'm leaving for you all with forehead kisses and flowers and love notes and mwah <3 i'll see you around!

[skitskatdacat63]

Happy One Year Anniversary to Boy King AU!!!! 🎉

Okay wait before I start talking, look at these close ups and the process!! Aren't they so beautiful aaaahhhh

Wow, can you believe it’s really been a whole entire year since my very first post about this AU? Well technically I first started talking about the statuette a day earlier, but the very first sketch was exactly a year ago!! Let us not forget the incredibly prophetic tag on that post: “also in the sense of this au i think the only ship that would work(historically accurate wise) is Vettonso.” Who knew that after that my entire life would devolve into vettonso, this specific period of history, and the lovely combo which is Boy King AU. Also wow this means it’s taken me almost a whole entire year to actually draw a joint portrait of them hahaha. I drew this sketch around the beginning of the AU, but never finished it. It’s fine though because this one is a lot better, and I’m in love with it. Took me a year to draw a couple portrait, and took me almost a whole entire month to finish said piece. 

Okay let me explain this piece, which I am very obsessed with!!! I dragged the process out more than I usually would, but I’m glad, because it was so enjoyable. But also look at that fucking crown, no wonder this took almost a month. Usually I’d write like 50 paragraphs detailing the characterization. HOWEVER! I’ve spent over a month writing little bits of characterization, mostly for fun, but also in preparation for this very post. A lot of the earlier ones, I had this drawing in mind, thinking on how I could expand on the ideas I was drawing. Though there’s definitely some things I could still write about. I’ll probably continue to write more Lore a Days, but yeah, they basically amounted to this drawing where you can actually see the characterization I was talking about displayed. Anyways, here are the explanations of bits in the drawing:

First of all, this is some part of the long process of their wedding. Look at the married couple!! Look at their rings!!!

Okay, but why are there two, almost identical looking pieces?? Because look at their hands!! I talked a lot about how Fernando is the one to give out affection more easily, especially in public, where he knows he can easily fluster Seb. He’s acting all grumpy and out of it, I mean to be fair, it’s probably been such a long ceremony across weeks. But he notices Seb is out of it too, just better at keeping his smile (let’s be honest, even if he’s distracted, he’s super smug.) So Fernando catches him off guard by squeezing his hand. Before that, as you can see, Fernando is just resting his hand on Seb’s outstretched palm, like that one scene from Succession. Very: yes I’m getting married, but I’m not happy about it. The combination of Fernando refusing to even touch him more than lightly beforehand but now going full force, them being in public, and Seb already being distracted catches Seb so off guard he has to try to cover his blush with his fan. He thought Fernando was being super impolite, but now he’s the impolite one!! Getting all blushy and giggly over a simple display of affection, perhaps even ha-

So. Their crowns. Seb’s wearing the crown of Austria, because he is in fact only a king still! Also, because I really wanted to try drawing it after I wimped out of it before in this drawing. Fernando’s a king as well by the point, but the fact he’s wearing only a tiara-like hairpiece is to represent how much of an outsider he still is. At this moment, he’s just Seb’s wi- ,I mean husband, to all these guests. Of course this bitch wears a black veil instead of a white one, to signal that he’s mourning the loss of his autonomy and personhood. Don’t worry too much about his mental state though, considering he’s not depressed enough to be able to resist teasing Seb. 

The fan, oh my god. Back in this era, people would gift/make fans for basically any occasion. To symbolize an event, to celebrate something, to show a story, etc etc. I wish I could have drawn something more narrative, but I think the bull vs. horse is good enough. Also you can see those same symbols on the pendants they’re wearing!! I’m so happy when I can fit irl, modern stuff like that into these drawings, it feels so clever!!

It’s so funny, I wrote a lore a day from a prompt about what they’d be like when doing a joint portrait, while I was already almost through painting a dual portrait of my own! So I got to explain some stuff like their clothing colors and poses before I even posted this. I feel very coy about that still honestly. 

Hmmm what else? It feels so weird to not expand on the characterization, considering I already did it for myself weeks in advance. I can’t imagine what it’s like opening this read more, and seeing more than 10 in-text citations. Happy reading!!!

 Happy anniversary to  this wonderful, crazy AU that makes me download 500pg German papers about 18th century etiquette. I drew a couple pieces of fanart before this AU, but I definitely think it jumpstarted my insanity about drawing/making AUs, and literally is what made me insane about Vettonso in the first place. Remember, if I hadn’t learned about Joseph I/Charles VI, most of my blog probably wouldn’t exist in it's current form. Thank you if you’ve stuck around since the beginning, or if you’re even just learning about it now!! It’s so incredibly niche but I’ve had so much fun researching and building this world and these characterizations, and I hope you’ve enjoyed what I’ve made in the process. I hope I can draw/write many more things in the future. I think next, I’m gonna maybe open up requests. I’d like to try to either write ficlets or draw chibi comics about specific Lore a Day posts on request. I think that’d be a lot of fun, but also will probably kill me. We’ll see!! Anyways. PPlease enjoy this absolute labor of love, which is a result of a year’s worth of work.