#again this applies to all mutuals and non mutuals

[lyvhie]

do you write for chenle? if so could i request angry sex with chenle? and plotwise/anything else can be up to you, you always make such creative works 😍

desert island | zcl

boyfriend!chenle x fem!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.

a/n: sorry for being so late, anon 😭! ofc i write for chenle, how could i not?! thank you for the kind words, i hope you like it!! 😚

cw: smut, use of 'whore' (only once), hair pulling, slighty spanking, begging, reader is DRAMATIC, chenle is kinda mean, petnames.

honestly, you can't think of a better partner than chenle. he's always so sweet, caring, and considerate, and you could talk for days about every single thing you love about him because you really love him a lot.

the same applies to chenle, who thinks you're so perfect for him. every time he wakes up and looks at you beside him in bed, he can't help but think how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side.

arguments in your relationship were rare, but not non-existent. like any kind of relationship between two people, disagreements occasionally arose.

you generally handle them with a mature conversation about the issue once the dust has settled, addressing the problem and coming to a mutually-agreed solution. however, sometimes, you both seem to be unable to agree on a resolution to the problem at hand. that was the case now.

it was a real stupid argument. you were released from work early and figured it would be a good idea to stop by the studio to see chenle and head home with him. as it turns out, it was a surprise when you showed up without prior warning, but he was happy to see you and it made your visit all the more meaningful.

during chenle's break time, the dreamies were engaged in a light and silly conversation about "who would you take to a deserted island." it was an innocent little game to pass the time and have some fun. when it was chenle's turn to answer, he surprised you by not choosing you, but one of his staff’s. this simple and seemingly harmless choice was the root of your trivial fight.

you didn't react immediately, simply laughed it off as if it was nothing but chenle could tell that something was off the moment you both got into the car. the car ride was unusually silent on your end, and chenle began to brace himself as he realized you were upset about something. he mentally prepared himself for whatever he felt was about to come as you walked through the front door.

"so..." he began in a gentle but careful tone, sensing there was an underlying issue you weren't being open about.

"nothing," you casually responded with a shrug, walking off and towards the bedroom. "it's nothing," you repeated again, but he wasn't fooled by your tone.

following close behind you, he asked another question, "is it me? did i do something to upset you?" he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, wanting to get to the bottom of the problem.

"no" was all the response you gave him, short and sharp just like before. as you continued into the bedroom and began to tidy up the already clean room, he leaned casually against the doorframe and observed you closely. he didn't say a word because he knew he would just have to wait until the "you know what's funny?" and there it was, your signature phrase for when you're in a bad mood, spoken in a slightly annoyed tone. he knew this would be coming.

"no," he said calmly and crossed his arms, looking directly at you and watching you make some futile attempts to find anything out of place in the already immaculate room. "please, enlighten me," his gaze intent as he awaited the inevitable moment of venting that always ensued after that phrase.

"of course you wouldn't," you replied back, feigning innocent ignorance and even rolling your eyes as you dramatically shook your head and sighed. "i didn't expect you to have kept a list of all the female entertainers you would consider taking to a desert island. so why don't you enlighten me on your priorities?”

for a moment, chenle's eyebrows were raised in a mix of confusion and slight surprise as he heard your words, genuinely believing that you were joking or being sarcastic. then came his soft laugh, as he was almost incredulous that you kept up this attitude with your arms crossed and a serious expression. "baby," he spoke gently but firm as a warning, "you can't be serious right now. it was an innocent little game that you shouldn't take so seriously.”

"oh really?�� your words laced with mockery. “an innocent little game? then it shouldn't bother you to explain to me why i wasn't even on your radar. it was a stupid game but your answers just proved to me that i'm an afterthought, even in your fantasies. at least in your fantasy of the women you'd be willing to take to a godforsaken place with no hope for escape. so am i so insignificant that i didn't even make the cut for you?”

chenle pauses for a second to process the situation and your words, running his hand through his hair in an almost unconscious gesture of self-soothing. if he didn't know you better, he would've thought you were crazy, but after that incident with the stupid "worm" question, he knows that you're just dramatic.

he approaches you, cupping your face in his warm hands as he gazes at you.

"baby, please," he pleads, the affection evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. "look at me," he says softly, using his palms to gently guide your eyes to focus on him. once your eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze deepens as his expression softens and his voice grows more gentle. "this was just an innocent game and you're blowing it out of proportion. please don't be like this. i love you and you know it. there's no other woman that compares to the love i have for you, not in a thousand lifetimes would i ever take anyone else over you. you're mine and always will be.”

even though you could sense the sincerity and love behind his words, you maintained a guarded demeanor, refusing to give in to it until you were completely satisfied with his explanation.

you know, you had a sharp tongue and an even sharper intelligence than some could imagine when you chose to use it. unfortunately, this was a time where the first worked, but the second didn't.

“well, it seems that you just have to be on a desert island to fool around with someone else, right? you just want to enjoy some fun and pleasure while away from the world,” your tone became sarcastic as you continued challenging his words and reasoning. “so who are you going to enjoy it with?”

your thoughtless words brought you to this moment. one of chenle's hands was intertwined between the strands of your hair in a tight grip, pushing your head against the softness of the mattress, forcing you to stay with you ass up. your eyes slightly red, your face puffy and wet, both from sweat and crying.

“fucking. stubborn. whore,” he spit out, each of his words was accompanied by sharp thrusts that made your bones shake and you gasp, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “can't listen to what i say for not even a damn minute,” he slapped your ass hard, making you whine and your eyes water again.

you lost track of time during this torment. it felt like torturous hours, where he kept teasing, edging you, not even letting you touch him, your ass was already marked by his hands, you felt the sting of each spank he gave, saying that brats like you don't deserve to feel good.

chenle knows you with the palm of his hands, he knows what you like, what makes you melt and he would definitely use it against you. his slow but powerful thrusts hit all the right spots that make you see stars behind your eyelids, his hand slipping between your legs to rub your clit in equally slow circles.

“…. ase…” your tiny, teary voice echoed through his ears. “oh?” he scoffs, pulling you by your hair until you were close enough for him to whisper in your ear. “i can't hear you, say it again,” his warm tongue sliding through your neck, sending you goosebumps.

“p-please…” you raised your tone slightly. “i'm so, so sorry, chenle,” the desperation and pleading in your voice is obvious, as is the remorse that you felt for your actions. “please, please, let me cum, please, just once, please,” the need seeping through every word, begging for relief and satisfaction.

a smug grin crept up his face when he heard your desperate tone. he loved how hopeless you sounded. he loosened his grip on your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he stopped his thrusts to savor the moment. his hand moved away from your clit to held your cheek as his tongue invaded your mouth, completely taking over the kiss.

your emotional state was so volatile right now that you honestly felt like crying. chenle knew that you loved kissing him, and by constantly pushing you away, he knew it was torturing you. your attempts at kissing him were met with a painful slap to your cunt, almost as punishment for trying to force yourself on him.

this simple yet deeply cherished kiss was enough to make you melt completely. you were yearning to feel this level of affection again after he kept pushing you away from him, it was all you were craving since he pushed you down onto the bed and shoved his cock inside your pussy.

as he pulled away from your lips, leaving you desperate for more, he let out a short, breath laugh at your reaction. he found it amusing how you chased after him to continue the kiss, but he was quick to remind you who was in control here by just pulling on your hair to keep you in place, making you whine pathetically.

"well," he purred against your ear, moving his hand caressingly over your body. he made lazy circles on your soft skin, lingering on your belly, you suddenly felt him be a lot more gentle. "since you asked so nicely, should i give you what you want, baby?" he raised an eyebrow teasingly as he waited for a response from you and all you could do was nod fiercely, letting small pleas of "yes, please" roll off your tongue as you awaited his move.

chenle hummed, feigning deep thought as he observed your face. He worked hard to maintain his composure and keep from showing his mischievous, devilish smile as he saw the light of hope that your expression lit up. "okay," he said finally, "i think you seemed remorseful enough,” his words were enough to bring a jolt of excitement to your system, you felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins and every single muscle in your body tensed up, waiting intently for him to give you what you wanted.

with a light kiss on your lips, he turned you over and positioned you so you were laying on your back. hands that had recently been mistreating you were now caressing your body delicately, as if you were the most delicate thing ever made. his kisses traced your jawline before moving to your neck and breasts, making you think that the wait had been worth it. the punishment had ended here and he made you believe that the only thing you deserved now was his gentle touch and loving kisses.

he straightened his back, the movement causing his hands to move from your sides to the back of your thighs. in one swift motion, he lifted your legs and pressed your knees against your chest, and the sharp sob that escaped your lips was all the confirmation he needed that he has you right where he wanted you.

you felt his tip teasing your clit and your entrance, your pussy glistening from how wet you already were, his hard cock sliding inside you without any difficulty, your warm, gummy walls welcoming him as he filled any remaining space in your pussy.

“you feel so good, don't you?” his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, and a low grunt slipped past his lips as he threw his head back slightly in a gesture of complete relaxation. he would never tire of this feeling that was almost overwhelming at this point. this applied to you as well, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you moaned softly, feeling just how deep inside of you he was.

“you feel so damn good,” he whispered in a low, husky tone as he begins to thrust into you relentlessly, his tip kissing your cervix every time his hips slammed back into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling.

he increased the pace, leaning closer towards you. the full weight of his body was now pressing onto you, keeping you down and pinned to the bed but there's no resistance from you as you are simply overwhelmed by his size and intensity.

he had been playing with you for such a long time that it didn't take very much effort at all to push you over the edge. your moaning and whimpering got louder, your body tense and your breathing more shallow. your voice was coming out in a pitch that was nearly unrecognizable, with a few "thank you's" and some other incoherent words escaping your lips, your pussy clenching around him—he recognized this as the ultimate sign that you were approaching your orgasm.

“are you close, baby?” he asked even though he already knew the answer. “y-ye—” you were interrupted again by another hard thrust that made you let out a soft yelp. he grunted as he felt your muscles clenching around him once more, gripping him tightly. “c-chenle,” you mewled his name, “i-i’m gonna c-cu—”

before you could finish your sentence, he was quick to pull out of you, releasing the grip on your legs, making you let out a soft whine in disbelief when he pulled out without letting you finish, and all you could do was lie there as a deep emptiness washed over your body, your walls now clenching around nothing. you look at him with wide, teary eyes and trembling lips.

chenle’s grin widens when he watched your expression, a look of disappointment on your face as you realized you didn't get to cum as he made you think. he was satisfied in the knowledge that he had denied you the satisfaction you wanted and was pleased with how desperate and frustrated you were looking at him.

"aww, is my baby about cry? " he mocked you, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he reached out to wipe away the tear-filled eyes that now betrayed you. his hand lightly traced the curve of your face, moving slowly and tauntingly, as if he was enjoying your helpless reaction far too much. “that’s what you get for acting like a spoiled little brat,” his voice filled with condescension as watched how your emotional state seemed to sink lower and lower as a result of his words.

"you thought i would just let you have it your way?” he scoffed and shook his head at your naivety. "i thought you would know better by now, baby," his voice taking on a false empathetic edge as he leaned in closer. his voice became softer, his lips pressing lovingly against yours for a quick peek. "aww, no, no, don't cry," he echoed the soothing words with another kiss, teasingly brushing away the tears with his finger. "if you beg good enough, i might give you what you want."

[sanjisblackasswife]

“ℤ𝕠𝕣𝕠 𝕊𝕒𝕪𝕤”

Blk Fem Reader

CW: Simon Says game is used for Zoro’s pleasure (and yours ig🦦) Fingering, Mirror Sex, Demanding!Zoro, Dom!Zoro, Teasing, Cum Eating, Mutual Masturbation, Implied cowgirl

Just thinkin bout Zoro teaching you how to please him and yourself.

“This is…embarrassing..”

“Then look at me.”

Feeling Zoro’s hand dwarfing yours as you both face the mirror, legs parted over his, your body consistently feeling a small shiver of the breeze when it hits your bare breast.

You gatta admit though.

You looked damn good when you play with yourself in front of him.

“Simon says; Don’t go too fast.” His slurry voice fell to your ears causing you to clench around his two thicker fingers, Zoro grins. “If you cum again we’ll stop right now.” Maybe it was the pheromones because he smelled intoxicating.

“This stupid ass game.” You thought. You knew playing this while drinking was a bad idea..

“Ffuck!” Your voice exhausted out, your head rested on his chest, you felt it rumble out a chuckle seeing your fucked out expression.

Your rest didnt last long, he gripped your cheeks, his warm fingers making you look at yourself , and what his fingers were doing to you.

“C’mon…” His voice rasped, “Simon says; Look at how pretty your pussy is.”

“Mmmhmmm.” Moaning out a whine Zoro quickens the pace of his circles on your clit, they became messy, his eyes fixated between your legs. He felt the contraints of his black pants tighten so much it felt painful,

“Simon says…” Zoro’s free hand that was once massaging your tits reach down to his zipper with urgency, “Keep looking baby, keep looking.”

You could feel his hand in your lower back fiddling with pulling out his shaft as much as he could, he couldn’t take it, seeing you fucked out by his fingers alone. He wanted in on the fun.

The feeling of your orgasm was closer than before, you trued so hard not to let it go but the overwhelming sight of your greenhaired boyfriend could tell so he turned to wider and slower circles.

“You like that?”

Why is he asking such a stupid ass question? Na dyou can hear it in his teasing tone, you met his sharp eyes in the mirror, he was already looking at your face, seeing the frustration and annoyance written all over you. Without words he made your spine shiver, almost as if he was non verbally telling you to quit the attitude you were about to give him.

You just nod at him. He smirks, giving your chubby cheeks a kiss, it was so soft and sweet compared to the harsh pressure he applied on your clit.

“Simon says…cum….when i do.”

You sucked back in your huff feeling him add three fingers inside your pussy, immediately clenching down on how thick he was, you felt so full, and it wasn’t even his dick doing it to you. Your legs started to spread more further apart making a bit of Zoro’s ego inflate justttt a little.

“Z..Zo…” You purred his name, turning your head seeing his pretty side profile resting on your shoulder, his eye lids lidded low still watch your entire body, your left thigh twitching when he curls his fingers, the way your tits jiggle evertime he adjusts his body, you reached over and kissed his cheek back, your grinned shortly seeing his face turn red.

He backs up, dammit. You always knew how to fluster him even when he was taking charge.

You looked back, hearing Zoro’s oanting get louder you knew he was close so he speeds up the pace on both rubbing his shaft up to his tip and playing scissoring you. It was kind of amazing if you think about it.

“C-cum…fucking cum!”

“Z—zoro w-wait!”

“Fucking cum Y/N!”

The bass in his voice made you clench down on him, pressing your thighs together to try and slow him down but he wouldnt let up. He grunts in frustration, using his forearm to push your back against his chest and just take it.

Your orgasm was approaching with him, you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted so you guided his fingers back inside you, using them to drag in and out of you as you play with your clit.

“Fuck fuck fu—“

Zoro couldn’t take it, his heavy breathing and panting in your ear, his low whines of your name, the way the bed creaks, the way how he couldn’t keep his eye open was all too much.

Letting your highs wash over you both. You fell back on his chest, feeling his fast heart beat on your spine, you groan, pushing away his hand still trying to make small circles on your sensitive clit. You turn and straddle him. Grinning in pleasure as he rest on his elbows.

“What?” He huffs looking at you up and down.

“You lost.”

“WH-W-HOW?!” His slit eye almost looks like it was ganna come out.

“You.” Pushing Zoro weakened body flat on his back with one finger you “Didn’t…” Your slit grazed his warm shaft, still twitching he hisses at you looking at your hips grinding, “Say…”

Using the bit of strength you had (and a little help from zoros hands) you slide yourself down on his dick, holding it with one hand,

“Simon says….so Simon says… let me fuck you.”

Zoro’s eye went large again, Fuck. That was the whole point of the game.

For him to prove he can win anything.

But alas. From how you kissed the corner of his lips, down to his sweaty neck, and to his chest right before taking the first bounce atop of him, he for once didn’t seem to mind losing.

[maybe-the-problem]

Hiya! This is a blog dedicated to all of my fun little desires and fantasies. My name doesn't matter, so you can call me whatever you like (I respond well to baby, baby girl, and slut🤭). I'm an eighteen year old virgin exploring her naughty side.

Most of my content is dedicated to dom/sub relationships. Tw for rape (entirely fantasy) and cnc as two of my main kinks! I do not support rape or similar actions in real life, and cnc and other bdsm practices should be well discussed and consensual.

I do have rules and expectations on my page to make sure both myself and you are respected and respectful! Read them before interracting!⬇️

- Minors do not interact please! I know I'm only eighteen but this is still ADULT content so you will be blocked🥰

- I am a sub. I am not your sub, and I do not want to be your sub. I'm not looking for a partner on tumblr.com.

- I only answer dm's from blogs I follow, sorry! If you think I'd really want to talk to you, send me an ask and I'll follow you if I'm interested!

- If you send pictures without asking me I will BLOCK you! I'm not always comfortable receiving photos, and consent is important! This also applies to sexually explicit posts that aren't my own, unless we're mutuals!

- Once again, I am producing this content for fun and you are not entitled to my attention! I like to play sometimes, but spamming my dms is not the way to get my attention!

- I AM ONLY ON TUMBLR! I will not answer asks or dms asking me for smapchat, session, discord, telegram, Twitter, or anything else! Do not push this boundary!

- This is a safe space, where I do not appreciate negative behavior such as racism, homophobia, transphobia, or kink-shaming (unless such kinks involve the exploitation of minors or to similar effect!)

- Age play is one of my hard limits, especially extreme age play! Dd/lg and age regression are not strictly included in this, but it is not one of my main interests. It is my belief that littlespace is best practiced outside of a sexual context, but that is simply my own opinion and should not affect you if your beliefs are different!

- Hard limits: race play, gender play, gore, scat, anal without previous discussion, necro, vomit.

- A list if some of my interests if you want a taste: General bdsm, non-sexual bdsm, impact play, misogyny kink, patriarchy kink, rape fantasy, humiliation, public humiliation, degradation, free use, dacryphilia, and dumbification.

This is a fantasy blog! Consent is key and important in all sexual and romantic relationships! Healthy communication is necessary for healthy bdsm! I love you guys!

Pictures: #maybespics

SFW: #maybesfw

[heavenangelly]

(Some) Anons will be the downfall of this community. This is just a silly little community where we learn abt manifesting, shifting and the void. We all want to be happy and live life to its fullest. We share success stories, cute interactions, mutuals, helpful advice, etc. Yet it doesn’t matter bc there will always be an anon hating and telling bloggers shitty things.

Us bloggers just want a niche, helpful and kind community where we all vibe and have fun. But then we get asks like that and it just makes us so demotivated. What more do you want from us? We’re helping you get your dream life, giving you free information because we understand more than anything that people want to get out of shitty circumstances, and all we get is anons like that.

It’s honestly so disgusting. Why can’t we all just be happy and be motivated to manifest our desires together? Why can’t we just support each other?

This community could be so beautiful but some of you anons are fucking ruining it. Just bc you can’t apply doesn’t mean it’s anyone’s fault but your own. You need to want to change and stop being so goddamn desperate. Don’t take it out on our beautiful community.

And to the non believers that call us delusional; so what? Why do you care? Why must you push your beliefs onto us? We certainly don’t do it to you. Just block the account and move on if it bothers you so much about what OTHER people believe. Grow up.

There used to be so many good bloggers on this app. Anons could interact with bloggers and form connections with them. There was emoji anons and we’d all share success stories. People actually wanted to apply the law. And to be fair, this community always used to have haters and liars in it, but not like this.

Stop taking your anger out on others. It’s not our fault, it’s yours. Switch your phone off and go on a walk or something. But hating on bloggers is not the right way to get rid of your anger.

I’ve honestly thought about leaving a few times. And I know other bloggers have as well. There is so many little (active) bloggers compared to a few years ago and if we all leave, assuming that the anons that are dedicated to getting their dream life also leave because they’ve succeeded, this community would be left with angry, hurt anons. And it would die with us unless we went to YouTube or something bc there is no way those anons would actually apply.

I just want this community to be happy and have good vibes again. We’re all in this together, guys. We all want our desires, we all know the law, we all help each other. So why are you hating? Don’t let this community die because of your anger.

And to the anons and bloggers that are dedicated to getting their desired life no matter what: I’m proud of you. I just know you’re going to make it far. Don’t become demotivated, your desires are yours. Never give up and you’ll win. You’ll get your desires and your life will be beautiful. You’ll wake up everyday, happy you took that leap. Just keep going and prove to yourself over and over that you can do this and that you are powerful. Ily guys <3

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

[molinaesque]

Cooper Howard and Lucy MacLean's rare and wonderful dynamic (and how it's ultimately alright if they don't become "endgame" or whatever)

First off... I'm saying this as a HUGE ghoulcy shipper btw. I don't wanna hear about some bullshit about how "you just don't like the ship" or something dumb like that (have you SEEN the state of my blog??). I ADORE this ship. These are also ultimately my own thoughts. Do not be affronted if this somehow doesn't apply to your hcs. At the end of the day, this is fiction, nothing more.

Something I have to note on about the wonderful dynamic between Cooper and Lucy. Even if ghoulcy stays platonic, I'm fine with it because this is the closest dynamic to Jack/Liz from 30 Rock that l've seen, and if anyone's seen that show, you KNOW what I'm talking about. Let me explain.

Jack/Liz were two v complex characters that had so much chemistry but the way their "relationship" worked was so unique in that they were never romantic but they're WAY more than just colleagues/ friends, etc. There was literally an article titled like "why you'll never see this kind of relationship in television again" and ghoulcy has the potential to be that again which is still GREAT! It even goes on to talk about how they're COMPLETE AND POLAR OPPOSITES but the dynamic still works and how they feed off of each other in the only way no other characters can. The "dynamic" is THEIRS and theirs only. Seem familiar?

From what we're getting not just in the Fallout show but from interviews with the actors and creatives involved, we're already getting that special dynamic. However, I must stress that many of the comments and those interviews (imo) are sometimes taken TOO literally. The existing text and subtext of the ship is already abundant and ripe so I feel like not EVERYTHING has to be referred to the ship and the ship only. I know it's mostly funsies but I legit wonder if some of this is taken too seriously to the point of misconstruing an actor's words and getting tunnel vision JUST for the sake of the ship and ship only, in turn cheapening what is already there. Kinda like what I've seen with people having to vilify Barb further with unnecessary inferences to scenes that give her more layers (like questioning her genuine love for Janey and Cooper. She can be loving AND a villain y'all. Both things don't have to be mutually exclusive) EVEN THOUGH SHE IS CLEARLY VILIFIED BY THE SHOW BY THE REVEAL SO WHY MAKE UP STUFF? To "punish" her more?? Apologies but this kinda reads as "I need to prop up my ship further so I MUST degrade the other ship" even though it's again... SUPER UNNECESSARY (I must stress I've seen this on ALL sides of shipping/character stanning. Both sides suck when you engage in this behaviour). Have fun and faith in the strength of your ships (ESPECIALLY if they're not "canon" adjacent)!

Anyway, as I was saying...

Going back to 30 Rock, there's literally a scene in the show where they get married due to shenanigans, they get in a big fight the whole episode and in the end sit down and have the most revealing discussion with a councilor about why they're so much more complex than typical relationship. And another scene where they sleep in the same bed together and addressed why they never hooked up with each other and why that's okay. By the way, I was also a HUGE shipper of these two... But I was fine with how they ended up with because the story of their special relationship that makes them uniquely THEM was clear and concise. This did not stop me from reading fics where they make kissy faces. It is possible to do both and I think some ppl tend to forget this.

I'm not saying this for the antis (don't like what you don't like, but if you harass shippers then you can suck eggs and leave. This applies to shippers to non shippers too btw. Be. Nice.), I'm saying all this because I want shippers to not "despair" if the ship that they've become so invested in doesn't come to fruition (and not go overboard into thinking that writers should listen to whatever audiences want all the time, we've been down this road SO many times, it's terrible. Do we REALLY need to talk about how The Rise of Skywalker turned out the way it did due to unnecessary pressure from the loudest antis/asshats in fandom? I think not). Maybe this is also more towards the younger audience members as a cautionary tale because we old ass millenials have seen and been through this but didn't have the immediacy of social media at our finger tips, so it was kinda easier to not be as reactionary. I don't like playing the "you youngins don't know what it was like" card, but at some points it is just a statement of reality. Some of you are/were LITERALLY too young to have experienced this.

Ultimately, what I'm saying is even if ghoulcy doesn't become "romantic", I'm fine with it as long as they stay within the "something more/beyond definition" dynamic which is ALWAYS refreshing to see. Give us more "what are we"! Give us more "it's complicated"! Give us more "we can't be summarized in neat little boxes"!

As long as they don't end up in the pit of "one dimensional interpretation of the Found Family trope which is somehow only just Familial and in this instance Father-Daughter". Please, I BEG. Nothing wrong for people to like this dynamic, but to immediately categorize this into that box is just... Tiresome. You can make the same arguments about "shipping two living beings together on screen all the time" too for sure... But again it leads to my point of if we're going the platonic route how about we NOT just shove it in the same boring dynamic of Father-Daughter that if you want, can find in multitudes of other forms of existing fictional media.

Tldr; have fun but always remember this is all fictional media in the end where we play with dolls in a sandbox. Just remember to BE. NORMAL. and not forget this and start shitting in it and flinging poo at each other. That goes with relationships with creators of said media too. Do NOT become parasocial and expect everything to be catered to you. The creators want to tell a story THEY came up with in the first place.

LET THEM.

[actual-changeling]

On unhealthy relationship dynamics

A little while ago, I stumbled across a post discussing Aziraphale's character on a meta level, and without knowing the content, I was completely unprepared when one single sentence pushed me from 'uncomfortable but doable' into 'triggered and panicking'. The post itself was triggering from start to finish, but that phrase stood out to me.

Why am I telling you this?

After calming down and thinking about it for a few hours, I realised what exactly my brain had reacted to—victim blaming rhetoric repackaged to fit Aziraphale and Crowley's situation. Victim blaming is, to provide a short summary, the act of putting blame for mistreatment on the victim instead of the perpetrator. It's a concept often used in r/pe discussions, but it can be applied to any abusive or non-abusive situation as long as a power imbalance is created, meaning you have at least one person harming another in whatever shape or form.

If you broaden the definition, you can apply it to more situations, including—and this is where we reach the actual topic—their relationship and the Final Fifteen (F15).

That is exactly what some people have been doing—putting all the blame on Crowley and absolving Aziraphale of any and all responsibility as if it were his fault that Aziraphale broke his heart

Before anyone runs to the comments, let me clarify what I assume will be the FAQ.

no, I do not think Aziraphale is abusive

I do not think that their relationship is abusive either

no, I do not hate Aziraphale

yes, I know what I am talking about

everything I will talk about is largely based on what we as the audience actually see and know, combined with interpretations of the intentional subtext Neil wrote into the show.

I have been actively in this fandom since the second season was released, and I have seen a lot of (hopefully accidental) ableist & generally insensitive takes. These are the ones I see the most and what I personally consider to be important topics of discussion, but the same logic I will be applying to these can be applied to many, many more situations.

Since my meta posts get very long very quickly, I will be posting them in parts and always linking back to the others, plus this one as the masterpost.

Part 1—Nice Is A Four Letter Word

The basic pattern is this:

Aziraphale refers to Crowley with a 'nice' term -> Crowley gets upset and tells him to stop -> Aziraphale hears him but continues anyway.

There are reasons behind Crowley's rejection, and I will go into detail, but I want to make one thing very clear: It does not matter why Crowley asked him to stop. He set a boundary, and Aziraphale repeatedly and intentionally overstepped it; this causes understandable anger and frustration.

Crowley does not owe Aziraphale an explanation, just like you would not owe someone an explanation when you don't want to be called x-term. Mutual respect requires the acceptance of personal boundaries like that, and by breaking them over and over again, Aziraphale tells Crowley that his own wants are more important than Crowley's needs.

In the 1827 Edinburgh flashback, we see the consequences of Crowley doing good/being called good (which are usually connected, meaning if they notice someone is calling Crowley good, he most likely did something to cause that) firsthand, and so does Aziraphale. He gets dragged down to hell and tortured for up to thirty years.

Even before that, Crowley expresses numerous times how hell punishes good deeds, and they are 'always listening' in on him. You would assume that Aziraphale would stop to keep him safe—and yet he doesn't because he cannot accept the reality of Crowley's situation and refuses to listen to him.

On top of that, Aziraphale only ever "praises" Crowley when he does something he personally sees as praiseworthy, aka something good/kind/nice/angelic/etc. but never when it is something that CROWLEY would like to be praised for, or at the very least acknowledged. We see it in season 2 over and over and over again: Aziraphale cares for no one's thoughts or plans except his own and has no interest in even hearing Crowley out.

Aziraphale calling him nice is not a sweet little gesture, it is an intentional overstepping of a boundary Crowley has been trying to enforce for centuries, and it reinforces the dichotomy of good angels/bad demons, with angelic existence being the ultimate goal. At the very least, it's disrespectful towards Crowley, and at worst, it is actively keeping Crowley in a trauma response, tugging on his leash whenever he tries to explain reality to Aziraphale.

To have a healthy relationship, Aziraphale needs to stop.

part 2 - part 3

[hardly-an-escape]

Square: B2 - FREE SPACE

Title: "would you go along with someone like me?" (ch. 2)

Rating: T

Ship: Dream/Hob

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Additional Tags: college AU, non-traditional college students, don’t worry they’re actual grownups, poet Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, history student Hob Gadling, referenced character death, rating will go up in later chapters, more tags to be added

Summary: Hob is a freshman history major and a first generation college student, while Morpheus is completing a graduate degree poetry. When they're crammed into a small room together due to a shortage of on-campus housing, it seems like an odd couple situation at best and a recipe for disaster at worst. But as the months go by, mutual respect turns into real friendship. And then... something happens that Hob never expected.

Link to AO3.

another @dreamlingbingo fill! I know it's been over a year since I posted the first chapter of this fic. I know. I'm sorry. I will try to make sure it takes less than a year to post chapter three.

October blew in, blustery and bright. The campus glowed with autumnal light. In the long, cool afternoons it would bounce between windows and gild granite columns. It even illuminated the study carrels in the fourth floor stacks of the undergraduate library, turning dim and dusty rooms into little pockets of brightness and learning and hope.

There were rainy days, too, but even they seemed apt and atmospheric; it wasn’t cold or dark enough yet for the grey days to be truly dismal, so the inclement weather was still more a novelty than anything else. A good excuse to spend the extra dollar on a hot mocha and wear one’s favorite cozy sweater.

Hob was either hugely elated or fantastically depressed, depending on – well, it could be anything. The weather, the grade on his latest paper, the relative freshness or staleness of the bagels in the history department, the phase of the bloody moon. On some level he knew it was just emotional whiplash from throwing himself into the deep end of academia after so many years spent in unacademic pursuits, but on his harder days he was beginning to think the hormonal soup of his young undergraduate classmates was rubbing off on him somehow.

On one such day, Hob returned to their tiny dorm room, dropped his bag on the floor, and faceplanted on his narrow bed with a heartfelt groan.

Morpheus was in his usual spot – perched on his desk chair and curled into a position that should not have been possible for his thirty-something spine and hips – and did not look up from his notebooks at Hob’s flop.

Hob groaned again.

“I imagine you want me to ask you what’s wrong,” Morpheus said, still not looking up.

“I am a fool,” Hob said dismally. “A fool and a buffoon. A nincompoop, even.” He pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Sometimes I wonder what I’m even doing here, mate, I really do. I mean who am I kidding? I’m almost thirty two years old and I’m sitting in these fresher history lectures and fucking Stephanie is running rings around me. Have I told you about Stephanie? She’s nineteen. Nineteen, Morpheus. We have, like, three classes together, and she’s kicking my arse, she has her entire career planned out, all the way to a Ph-bloody-D, and I can’t remember whether ‘Ottoman’ has one T or two.”

“Two.”

“I know that, you insufferable git, I’m trying to have an existential crisis here.”

“Ah. And is that happening concurrently with your one-sided competition with a child? Or does one precede the other?”

Hob raised his head enough to stick his tongue out at Morpheus. Something he’d learned about his roommate over the past few weeks – something their dorm neighbors and many (if not most) of Morpheus’s classmates didn’t quite seem to understand – was that Morpheus could actually be screamingly funny at times. The problem was that his humor was so bone dry, his delivery so absolutely deadpan, that it was difficult to tell the difference between the times he was being funny by accident, the times he was being funny on purpose, and the times he was actually being deadly serious and would be incredibly offended if people misinterpreted his words as some kind of joke.

Hob had already been on the receiving end of his irritation more than once, usually through pure misunderstanding. He knew he had a puppylike tendency to assume that everyone was his best friend until proven otherwise; Morpheus clearly had a tendency to assume exactly the opposite. The very first time Hob, barely a week into their shared existence, had asked if the other man wanted to get lunch together some time and help each other study, Morpheus had bristled so severely that he looked like a porcupine and claimed that he had no interest in either food or company.

He’d never apologized, per se. But later than night, the sandwich Hob had smuggled back from the dining hall in his jacket pocket and left in their dorm-sized fridge, labeled with Morpheus’s name on a sticky note, had mysteriously disappeared.

Much worse had been the time Hob, in one of his occasional fits of organization and cleanliness, had dared to tidy Morpheus’s desk.

He’d been on a roll – had done his laundry (and put it away!), and changed his sheets, and swept, and tidied up the shoes and jackets in the tiny shared alcove that passed for their hall closet, and then he’d turned his attention to the built-in desk that spanned one full wall of their little room. Hob’s half was always a bit messy, with some piles of notes and one or two books left haphazardly open to key pages he was certain to return to at the right moment. But Morpheus’s side looked like a bomb had gone off. He always had at least four or five notebooks on the go, plus what might be described as a small mountain of poetry anthologies, chapbooks, and photocopied coursepacks. The corner where the desk met the wall contained a veritable snowdrift of various ephemera: scraps of paper, receipts, dried flowers, bottle caps inexplicably labeled with dates and locations, labels carefully peeled off of beer bottles, a scant handful of beads and other shiny bits and pieces, and a single earring that looked like some bright young thing had lost it on her way to the club.

And Hob wasn’t stupid. He knew Morpheus could be a little prickly about his space and his things. Protective might be a better word. He supposed it was a side effect of growing up with a bunch of siblings; though he was an only child himself, Eleanor had had an older sister, and had told many tales of epic battles over favorite shirts and library books and other such treasures. So hadn’t thrown anything away. He’d moved it all aside and dusted and wiped, and then shuffled the papers into a neat stack, set the books against the windowsill in a semblance of order, and collected the ephemera in a little plastic basket that had been in the share box in the common room. He thought, when he was done, that it had still looked pleasantly cluttered – just less like a tornado had gone through their little room.

He hadn’t been expecting praise. He already knew better than that. But he also hadn’t been expecting Morpheus to project a wall of furious silence for the several days.

It got so bad that he’d spent half an hour hunting through the “ethnic” aisle of the grocery store to see if he could find any English sweets with which to mollify his roommate. The closest he’d gotten was a Ritter Sport with whole hazelnuts and a packet of Canadian potato chips, both of which sat, unacknowledged and uneaten, on Morpheus’s side of the desk for nearly a full day before being shoved unceremoniously back over to Hob’s side while he was in a lecture.

Hob started to consider emailing Teleute (who had given him her business card before she’d flown back to London) on the fourth day, just to ask exactly what level of unforgivable sin he’d committed, and whether any penance could possibly absolve him of it.

He was, luckily, saved from the indignity of asking his roommate’s sister how to circumvent his little temper tantrum, and by none other than Morpheus himself.

He got home after a lecture one day to find Morpheus perched nervously on the edge of his bed, a bottle of Bass beer clutched nervously between his knees.

Hob shucked off his shoes and tossed his bag on his own bed before flopping down, legs akimbo. The room was so small that if he and Morpheus both stretched their legs out, their ankles would probably touch in the space between their narrow beds.

“Hello, Hob,” Morpheus said formally.

“Morpheus,” Hob said. “Talking to me again, then, are you?”

Morpheus, to his credit, flushed slightly. “I would. That is. I have… I would like to apologize.”

Hob made an expansive sort of go ahead gesture and leaned back, waiting.

“I was talking last night with my sister – not Tel, whom you met, but my youngest sister. I was…” He ducked his head. “To be frank, I was complaining about you. About how you had tidied my desk and how much it upset me. She pointed out, quite rightfully, that it sounded like you were trying to help; trying to do something kind. She also pointed out that there have been several occasions when she herself has made an awkward or unwelcome choice in an effort to do the right thing. I… cannot argue with her logic.”

“I really was just trying to help,” Hob said. “If I promise never to touch your side of the desk again, will you stop ignoring me?”

Morpheus flushed again. “Yes. And I would extract no such promise from you. It was. Thoughtful.” That seemed to be a hair too much genuine emotion for the man, who stood abruptly and shoved the bottle of beer at Hob. “I have brought you this. A peace offering.”

“Thanks, mate. I –” Hob began, but Morpheus was already throwing on his peacoat and out the door in a whirl of black. “Okay. What a fucking weirdo.”

The beer was good, though. A taste of home. Hob picked the label off and left it on Morpheus’s side of the desk.

read on AO3 >>>

[fsbc-librarian]

Hi! I hope you are good! Feel free to mention some of your works that aren't yet posted to tease us all with the potential we're waiting for!

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love! <3

I don’t have many more works than 5 😂 here are some of my favourites 💜

This took me over a year to write, and I was so insanely nervous before I posted it, but I’m so so proud of it. It’s still my most popular fic by hits/kudos (and it recently got a short one shot sequel).

Summary: Bucky looked at Steve. Steve carefully did not look at Bucky.

“You didn’t tell him?” Becca asked, pausing in the doorway. Steve shook his head.

“He only just got here. Besides, I thought you would have told him over the phone,” Steve grumbled, now also carefully not looking at Becca.

“He is also standing right the fuck here,” Bucky snapped. “In case you both forgot.”

“Steve,” Bucky started, quietly, purposely not looking at either of them now. “Why is Becca your doctor?”

Neither Steve nor Becca answered him. Bucky looked up. Becca was watching Steve, who was staring intently at a wrinkle in the sheet covering the bed he was sitting on.

“Why is Becca your doctor right now?” He asked again, more forcefully, this time looking to his sister. “And why are we in the fucking family rooms?”

*****

Steve’s a marathon runner. He’s still friends with his ex-alpha, his life revolves around training, work, and Bucky, his best friend. He’s also 6 months pregnant and he doesn’t know who the sire is. If he ignores his problems, they’ll go away, right?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Lorraine, Rebecca Barnes Proctor, Winifred Barnes, Howling Commandos, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mpreg, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, hidden pregnancy, Secret pregnancy, New York Marathon, Mechanic Bucky Barnes, Marvel Cameos, Easter Eggs, so many easter eggs, Rating for later chapters, Anal Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Fuck Or Die, Hand-Wavey Medical, Pining, Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Mildly Dubious Consent, only because both of them want it but both think the other doesn't

✨✨✨✨✨

Summary: Bucky Barnes is running from his problems. He's housesitting for his best friend while she's on her honeymoon - the almost a year prior that he's been staying in her house doesn't count - when he's woken in the middle of the night by an angel and a demon. Okay, maybe they're not a literal angel and demon, but Steve Rogers *looks* like an angel, and his daughter Charli certainly *acts* like a demon.

The father/daughter duo are running from their own problems, but that doesn't mean that they can't crash headlong into one another's lives. Throw in a cursed book for good measure, and it's about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Original Children of Peggy Carter and Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author!Bucky, Architect!Steve, Peggy Carter & Steve Rogers Friendship, Human Disaster Bucky Barnes, Homophobic Language, Cursed Book, Eavesdropping, Past Bucky Barnes/Brock Rumlow, Past Bucky Barnes/Alexander Pierce, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Steve's Daughter has a British Accent, Gay Steve Rogers, Gay Bucky Barnes, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, meet ugly, Top Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes

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Summary: An Avengers fundraising event in Las Vegas takes a left turn, and Captain America wakes up with a brand new spouse and no way to get a divorce. Coupled with Tony Stark's current obsession with reality dating shows, obviously nothing can go wrong, right?

Bucky Barnes isn't even Tony's PA - Pepper is his actual boss - and he does not have time to even date anyone, let alone be married to one of the most famous people in the world, especially not with a sick sister and precocious niece at home depending on him. He just needs to keep his head down, and wait it out til they can get a divorce. Easy, right?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Tony Stark, Thor (Marvel), Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Happy Hogan, Jennifer Walters, Darcy Lewis

Additional Tags: Accidental Marriage, Shrunkyclunks | Modern Bucky Barnes/Captain America Steve Rogers, pa bucky barnes, Captain America Steve Rogers, alcohol consumption, Crack Treated Seriously, Sort Of, mentions of illness, Cancer, Hand-Wavey Legals, There Was Only One Bed, Kidfic, Public Sexual Acts, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Teasing, Bottom Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, light Dom/sub tones

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Summary: How do you mourn for someone who isn’t dead? That’s the big question, and so far, Bucky hasn’t been able to answer it.

He’d fought for seventy years, even when he didn’t remember his own name, when he didn’t know he was a person. Always the first memory to come back to him was a set of blue eyes, touched with a tiny bit of green. The whisper of a voice in his ears, the flash of memory that someone should be there, right beside him.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes

Additional Tags: no happy ending, Angst, Hallucinations, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Anger, Unrequited Love, Canon Compliant, Not A Fix-It

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Summary: He's not sure how it happened. One moment, he was the Winter Soldier, and the next he's working in a Brooklyn coffee shop, where the prickly owner is someone who treats him like a person, not a machine. And just maybe, he can be a person again.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Yelena Belova, John Walker (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Captain America John Walker (Marvel), Former Captain America Sam Wilson, Shrinkyclinks | Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes/Non-Serum Steve Rogers, Coffee Shops, Coffee Shop Owner Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Minor Character Death, Past Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Amnesia, memory problems, Hand Wavey Medical, Sad, Feelings, Gay Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Gay Sex, Anal Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

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Upcoming fics

Sympathy for the Devil

Summary: Alpha Bucky Barnes has been a headlining rock star for over 20 years, both as the lead singer of the band The 107, and as a solo artist. The Reunion World Tour of The 107 also features the up-and-coming punk rock band SHIELD, with lead singer (omega) Steve Rogers. The chemistry is undeniable, and when one thing leads to another, Steve Rogers finds himself with an unexpected souvenir.

Working Title: Runaway

Summary: rich kid Bucky Barnes is an omega who has had to pretend to be a beta his whole life, until he’s faced with something that will literally change his life. So, he does the only thing he can think of - he runs away. Right into the dive bar owned by ex-army captain, and alpha, Steve Rogers.

[foggystarrs]

Vanessa finds out your secret, only for you to find out a secret of her own.

On the bright side, Sun and Moon have yet another surprised planned for you! They spoil you too much don’t they? But when you’re given some vital information, you’re starting to realize that maybe those gifts they had been leaving at your door could have some… romantic intentions behind them.

But that couldn’t possibly be true… could it?

When some truths are revealed you suddenly realize you might’ve been reading this all wrong.

Chapter 10 is out now!!

Chapters: 10/?

Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Moon/Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader, Daycare Attendant (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader

Characters: Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's), Moon (Five Nights at Freddy's), Reader, Vanessa A. | Ness, Gregory (Five Nights at Freddy’s), Glamrock Freddy, Roxanne Wolf, Glamrock Chica, Montgomery Gator

Additional Tags: MerMay, Merperson Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's), Merperson Moon (Five Nights at Freddy's), Sun and Moon are Separate Animatronics (Five Nights at Freddy's), Siblings Moon and Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's), Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, No Smut, Gift Giving, Sleepy Cuddles, First Meetings, Slow Burn, for reader anyway, sun and moon fall for reader first, Courtship, Cultural Differences, Mutual Pining, Eventual Romance, Soft Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's), Soft Moon (Five Nights at Freddy's), No use of y/n, POV Second Person, gender neutral reader, Vanessa is your mother figure, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bioluminescence, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, but it’s just reader being oblivious, Feelings realization

Summary:

You find two merpeople stuck in a fisherman's net and decide to help free them.

You don't expect to see them again after that night, but it turns out that they have other plans. As you're suddenly being showered with gifts and shiny trinkets from the depths of the ocean, you start to wonder what you've gotten yourself into.

After all, you didn't expect the two mers to suddenly start courting you.

or basically, Mer! Sun & Moon try to romance the reader, but reader is as dense as a rock.

[imbecominggayer]

How To Reinvent Cliches

Warning: I am going to be talking exclusively about Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows. Luckily, I never watched them or interacted with the fandom. There are no spoilers!

From @stabbyapologist we have our first non-mutual request: "Should I, or should I not, make the oc try to seduce Severus Snape as a bargaining to stay alive so Bellatrix doesn't torture her anymore? Is it interesting or constantly used?"

To address concerns, OC is NOT underage and the story is particularly dark so we won't be talking about anything relating to that.

Again, like I told this person, I can't give character-specific advice. And for the sake of getting more interaction, this post won't only apply to this specific situation :)

Interesting AND Cliche?

I can't say personally whether or not this counts as cliche since I don't read harry potter fanfiction HOWEVER I can say this: Your stories will always include tropes so all you need to do is to reinvent and reuse tropes in an interesting way!

When giving advice on tropes I think this is an important one:

"Think of your story like a closet where the characters are your clothing and the hangers are your tropes"

Tropes are the foundations that shouldn't be physically seen until someone is doing some literary analysis.

To reiterate, what makes a trope lack intrigue is whether or not it's handled with care by the author. If the hanger is just thrown into the closet and is not holding up anything, it's a poorly laid out thing.

You can practically use whatever tropes/hangers you like as long as you are able to disguise them underneath characters and worldbuilding.

If you can make your OC trying to seduce Severus Snape into a natural extension of this character and their circumstances then the development is going to seem natural and logical :)

How To Reinvent Tropes?

There are various different ways of revamping tropes so i'll just run through some common ones!

Change the expected ending. If it isn't required to succeed, having OC fail in seducing Severus Snape would be an unexpected plot development!

Bring It Back Down To Earth. This is when the author understands something to be inherently fucked up and writes it as fucked up. By having your OC acknowledge how horrible and humiliating this situation is, you have not only limited possible romanticization but also changed the trope's aftertaste.

Plot Twist. In general, using tropes as plot twists can definitely work. Since I don't know your story all I can do is spitball. Severus Snape is revealed to be evil? Bellatrix wanted this to happen?

Conclusion:

We covered the fact that tropes can be interesting regardless of their "constantly used" status and we covered some common ways to reinvent tropes!

So @stabbyapologist, have I given you good advice?

[rgr-pop]

I have a friend in the midwest who's looking for a political org and i was wondering if you could you offer some advice. Are there qualities you would look for in an org that would make you feel like, okay, these are people I can work with?

Yea! I think there’s a ton of variation and it depends on what kinds of work they like to do or want to learn to do. I’d be happy to talk to them directly about their city.

As a materialist, I sort of think any group or org can be worth trying—doing so gives you a sense of the conditions and things to learn, and helps you follow where people are, which is the best way to learn about a new place you live. Always join stuff, you can always stop going if you don’t like it, never try to start something from scratch until you’ve been going to stuff for a long time (unless that something is a union in your workplace :p). Your friend should just trust their instincts but be open to learning from others, honor their time/energy/boundaries, and watch out for red flag orgs that don’t respect boundaries and don’t allow members to vocalize concerns or bring ideas to the table. I think that’s the key line.

For me personally, I am only interested in deep involvement with democratically organized groups that are not primarily concerned with providing service to people who are mostly non members. I definitely respect and work with these kinds of orgs all the time, but it’s not where my organizing energy goes — I am not a mutual aid person, but your friend might be! Examples of groups locally that I like and work with and would trust as a model are food not bombs style mutual aid as well as some urban farm style stuff (some of which can be soooo fashy but some i like here!), syringe access and harm reduction, eviction defense and other anti carceral rapid response. I do work with abortion funds and infinitely recommend anybody who can stomach it do the same (they can reach out to me for info on their local funds). I’ve been doing stuff around parent/childcare/repro and I would strongly advise to tread carefully there given the entrenchment of socially conservative religious actors. Just stay vigilant and research. Antifascist style orgs are also very interesting, frustrating, messy, frequently dangerous, occasionally surprisingly fascist, and presently useful—look into them but be thoughtful.

Questions to ask, many of which especially apply to mutual aid style groups: is there a leadership structure, and if so, how do leaders become leaders? Is there a board of directors? Who is on it? Do we have money, and if so, where does it come from, who decides how we use it, and what is its legal status? Who decides what work we do and how? Do I as a participant have a vote, the potential to run for leadership, or the right to propose work or organizational ideas? How does this group conceptualize the relationship between me, the community at large, the people we focus on, and people in other places? What other orgs do they seem to be connected to? Is anyone paid staff, and if so, what are their working conditions and how do they relate to the non paid staff? What does this org have on paper, online, etc.? What kind of safety or security norms do they have? Do they have a procedure for handling violence or just mundane conflict between participants? How are everyday decisions handled? None of my judgments relate to an assessment of the people themselves, per se—which is NOT to say I don’t make those judgements lol.

Many different responses to the above are valid depending on the work, and not having clear answers doesn’t mean that an org is bad, especially if it’s open to development. Having said that, again, I only organize with groups that give me a vote. And I think everyone should consider that guide.

My pitch for joining DSA if you have a chapter is that it has the best answers to the above compared to anyone else. It has the most things you can do as a beginner, the widest variety, and the best opportunities to grow yourself as an organizer, and it’s the biggest leftist organization in blah blah you’ve heard it. I strongly recommend not getting too involved with small communist leftist factionalist orgs (I won’t name them here), but there are a million exceptions, especially in cities like Chicago and Minneapolis with long deep weird histories. And no need to hate on them, either. If some communist league seems to be really doing something and not uhhh openly trafficking people or something lol, go off. (Where I live this is the case on campus!) The other exception is the IWW. It’s always fine to join the IWW, especially for labor, and there really are a handful of cities where the IWW is effective and the place to do rank and file labor work (and mostly those are in the midwest!) In many more cases the IWW is a sad little thing but it’s our duty to be nice to them.

In conclusion “make you feel like you wanna work with them” is complicated—I’m a hater, and do not enjoy the company of most of these people, or in fact even the masses in general. You have to find your own balance, which requires pushing yourself out of your comfort zone for a little while, and see how the org reacts. But ultimately, you don’t need to want to work with the people—you need an org that is productive and moves by creating conditions for people to work together regardless of whether they like each other. Fundamental premise of socialism and communism specifically, and it’s what sets us apart from tendencies on the right and common versions of certain tendencies on the left whomst I won’t name. My #1 advice is always to avoid any group whose mission is based on affinity and friendship between its members. (But if you make friends with them, go off)

[mooncrestedwaters]

Immortalized Muses

Authors Word: Woo, ok, this took me easily two months to write.

This came to life after having a dream about Rafayel and I attending an art exhibition and him begging me to be in a picture with him after I refused. (Basically this is a glorified retelling of the dream tbh haha)

This is my first time displaying my writings on this account so I hope you all enjoy

- Mikaela 🤍🪽

Warnings/Themes: Mutual Pining, swearing/profanity, non-established relationship (they're friends/employer & employee), Rafayel throwing hints like confetti, mild smut(??), mentions of sexual tones of voice, mentions of alcohol/being tipsy and/or drunk, banter banter, Rafayel is a princess (big surprise)

Please let me know if I missed any themes

Tags: Rafayel x MC (MC is they/them so it can apply to any gender)

"Why do you keep disappearing?"

With a jump, y/n turned towards the intrusion of their solace.

"Rafayel..." With sheepish welcome, they bowed their head looking at their reflection in their drink, knowing that they'd wandered off again and left Rafayel alone at the after party for the exhibition, "Sorry, I just needed some air..."

He made a grunt of recognition and came to stand beside them, leaning his elbows on the intricate steel woven fence around the balcony, overlooking a calm rippling lake, decorated with trees and local habitations to be spotlighted by the gentle moon hung in the night sky, speckled with stars like diamonds on velvet to bounce off his sun kissed skin and lavender locks, "I thought you'd gone home."

Looking down into their drink they swished it around the glass, ice knocking against the crystal and straw poised between their index and middle finger, eager for another sip, "No, I wouldn't do that."

"Overwhelmed?"

They nodded in reply, "I just needed to take a break."

Rafayel's eyebrows creased, a pout working its way onto his charming features, "The reporters were taking pictures downstairs, I couldn't see you anywhere and had to make this perilous journey to find you."

They deadpanned, pursing their lips as Rafayel started his theatrics.

"For all I know you could've been swooped up by some criminal who'd gate crashed the party!"

"Aren't I supposed to be your bodyguard?" - they sipped their drink with a snide snort - "What do you pay me for if not to look after your safety and my own?"

He genuinely pouted now, shooting y/n a half hearted glare, "Oh, you know what I mean."

They smiled, genuinely knowing exactly what he meant.

"That lonely, hmm?"

Rafayel looked away, leaning back from the railing to stand tall, ears burning red, arms crossed as he kicked his heel out and spun away from y/n to saunter off with a huff, "Just come back downstairs already."

°°°°

Smoothing the silk of their outfit, y/n took a deep breath, their shoes clacking against the grandiose marble floors.

They felt a little out of place in such an outfit but Rafayel always insisted. Y/n had no choice when the ornate crisp white outfit made of silk and chiffon was laid on their bed, pearl accessories and details lined with tints of pastel blues.

Then Rafayel would insist on doing make-up for y/n, his skills on a paintbrush transferring to an array of beauty brushes.

Y/n always came out looking like the multiple zeros on a check he'd get for one of his paintings and they always felt their heart beat a little fast when they noted how much time and care Rafayel put into dressing them up to be the prized Belle of the Ball.

"Ah, there you are!" Rafayel greeted them, wrapping an arm around their shoulder and whispering a quick 'Help me!' in their ear.

Y/n chuckled but it soon died in their throat as they heard the business man drone on about monetary prospects of Rafayel's studio.

His arm was retrieved to his side and he showed utmost interest in the poor fool as he droned on, gums flapping like a pig at a troph, greed seeping into their every word and not a care for the art that Rafayel poured his blood, sweat and pearlescent tears into that was displayed around the exhibition like an ornate frame to the arrogant masses.

Y/n even swore they saw Rafayel's eyes twitch once or twice and couldn't tell if it was from the other mans ignorance, Rafayel's affinity with boredom or if their little rest bite from the party before was still grating on him.

They deemed it well to stay put and endure the rest of the night and took a sip of their drink, eyeing the bar like an old lover already.

"Hey, get me a red wine?" Rafayel whispered in their ear, goosebumps flooding their skin, "I fucking need it."

They looked at him from the corner of their eyes and nodded, seeing the ever present smirk and surety displayed in his eyes, behind it was waves of exhaustion and desperation.

He wanted nothing more than for this night to end, just as much as y/n did. They pitied the poor artist.

With a curt nod, they excused themselves to the drink bar, "Old fashioned and a wine."

"Top or bottom shelf?"

They looked over their shoulder as another business man slung his arm over Rafayel's shoulders, laughing boisterously as Rafayel visibly stiffened, his white knuckled fists slipping into his pockets to disguise his annoyance and crafting a smile on his face.

"The one that'll have the highest alcohol percentage." - They snuck a glance at him again, his jaw now visibly tensed, his smile becoming a grimace - "Stat."

°°°°

As the money hungry ladder climbers of the night slowly dispersed to their ubers and chauffeurs alike home, Thomas, Rafayel and themself got to winding down the night. Close friends, family and beneficiaries hung back for group pictures and y/n stuck to the side, nibbling on some fancy hors d'oeuvres.

Rafayel's aunt pulled him in for a selfie, pinching his cheeks as he weakly protested with a groan and y/n couldn't help but giggle when Thomas threw himself into the mix enveloping them both from behind in a hug to join the picture.

There wasn't a sober soul in the venue, that was for damn sure.

Y/n couldn't help the smile creeping onto their face at the pleasant scene of Rafayel - despite his eagerness to leave - visibly loosening up and finally enjoying himself with his people, not the riff raff with obese wallets and closed minds.

Looking up from the empty glass, y/n saw Rafayel's gaze over his shoulder at them.

They raised a brow, wondering why Rafayel was staring at them.

Maybe he was tired and wanted to be escorted home?

They'd get their answer, as Rafayel slipped from Thomas' and his Aunts embrace to stride over and stand against the wall beside Y/n.

"Having fun?" They asked.

"I guess," Rafayel sighed, "Just really fucked."

Y/n could tell, since Rafayel's pleasantries and ability to save face had flown out the window with his language and demeanor.

They dusted their curled finger against his cheek, his dark under eyes starting to show through the concealer he'd applied before the event.

He sighed, his bunched shoulders dropping slightly as he closed his eyes, basking in the gentle and tender touch they gave him, his fists loosened, going slack in his pockets as he revealed in the touch.

"We'll get you back to your home soon," Y/n spoke, retrieving their hand away, pressing their watch as a holographic monitor buzzed to life, "It's nearly one in the morning, Gods...."

They called for a ride to take him back to his place and the other guests were doing the same to head to their own respective abodes.

"Rafayel!" His Aunt called and waved him over and he stiffened, "Come over here, we're taking one last picture."

They leant against the wall as Rafayel began to stride over to meet the group of people. He stopped, turning to them and placed out his hand in offering to join.

"Pass." Y/n held their open palm up in front of him, "I'm not someone who should be in such a picture, I'm just your bodyguard."

He turned fully to speak to them, eyebrows creased and lips pursed, "Nonsense, come."

They shook their head, an apologetic smile on their face, "No, no...you go, I'll keep an eye out for-"

"Quit being stubborn," Rafayel quipped, his tone more rough than usual with his fatigue and waning patience, "I want you in the picture, so you'll be in the picture."

Deciding to skip their words of protest they turned on their heel to go stand outside and wait for the ride. Their plan fell short as Rafayel grabbed their arm, his hold strong enough that they couldn't break free but gentle enough as to not hurt them, "Stay..."

Y/n tilted their head, irritation spiking as they looked over their shoulder with pursed lips and a raised brow. They decided to play on his ego, hoping their bargaining chip would shake the painter off, "Beg then."

A look of shock splashed across his features like paint across a canvas. His lips parted, looking for a comeback but instead he let go of their arm.

Y/n thought they were free, going to turn on their heel until his arm snaked around their shoulders, fingers dusting their slightly exposed collarbone with strands of hair interwoven through his fingertips. He lent down, his face to the side of theirs as his other hand tucked their hair behind their ear, his lips dusting against the shell of their ear as he whispered in a low hum, "Please..."

They felt a jolt through their body, their breath hitched to flee their mouth in a squeak.

Rafayel continued his assault of words against their ear, sending electric currents through their veins to rise as a bright crimson blush on their cheeks. His tone was reminiscent of a whine closing in on whimpering.

"Please, Y/n....Please stay, please don't walk away, stay for me? Please darling, I really want you, I really really need you, please I need you beside me-"

With what energy they could muster between their hitched breathing and trembling limbs they pushed the artist off them and stormed towards the group of people readying themselves for the picture.

"Fine! Gods, Rafayel..." Y/n groaned and stood fixing their hair to the side of the group.

They could feel Rafayel's smug, triumphant smirk burning into the back of their skull and they tried not to bristle with frustration that Rafayel got his way.

As Thomas set the timer everyone huddled in and around the artist. Rafayel pulled Y/n flush by his side, his arm around their waist, fingers gripping into the plush flesh of their clothed hip. He leant down as the timer counted down to whisper once more in their ear.

"Art is meant to be witnessed...Do you really think I wouldn't pose with my favorite art piece?"

Y/n blush and Rafayels smug smile of victory were immortalized within that photograph forever.

Y/n blamed it on the alcohol.

Rafayel always held a knowing smirk as to the real reason.

[starflungwaddledee]

hii!! i just wanna say your comic and starspeak lore are SO cool omg!! the way you incorporate the essence of the starfolk culture into their language is incredibly creative and very fitting auauagahsahdbsnsnn <3

i'm pretty interested in all the grammar of the language!! i think you mentioned that there's a question particle that kind of works like mandarin chinese, do other final particles exist? little tone indicators in the language seems like it would help mutual understanding between a bunch of mystical star-beings :0

also, if it's been developed yet, how do verbs work in this? granted, i don't know a lot about greek/latin languages or if you're basing the grammar off of them too, but does it lean more towards romance language's crazy conjugations, or a simpler "subject verb noun" structure?

sorry if this is a lot haha i know the language is still a wip, but it's such a cool concept! i think languages are really interesting and the way you incorporate it into kirby is so mmbdbbrnzmxfh✨✨

alright, this one took me a very long time to get to (because i knew it would be long and i've been working on it on and off for a while) and i'm so sorry! thank you so much for your patience veve! and it's been a little while since we've had a starspeak post so let's go!

(i will preface by saying again that the language is still very much a wip which i could change at any time, and that i'm no trained specialist; i'm just doing this for fun and there's a high chance i fully have no clue what i'm talking about 😅)

❓ i'll start with the easiest one of these and go for the question particle!

i think that Celestials are not often doubtful or questioning things, but when they do the particle is an opener rather than a sentence-final (such as ma (嗎/吗) in mandarin chinese). it otherwise works extremely similarly in that it is tagged on to turn a sentence into a question.

so the most common starspeak question particle is tc, almost a mouth sound than a word. the letters are a combination not often used elsewhere in their speech patterns, which i like to think also wraps back around to them being fairly certain of most things they open their mouths to say.

tc is predominantly used when seeking clarification about someone else's experiences, which is probably one of the more frequent times they wouldn't know something in (self-presumed) absolution.

combining it with some other things we've learned; épios (see) and eu (you) we can ask someone what they're seeing presently, where the target of the speaker (eu) is in active possession of the seeing action and vl is an active tense:

"tc vlépios eu?" // "(what's) seen (by) you?" // "what do you see?"

unfortunately in the conlangs current state, moving things around even a little bit throws out the meaning of sentences a lot, which is something i could probably iron out more with significantly more time 😅 "tc eu vlépios?" for example would be closer to "you're seen?" and "tc vlépios-eu?" would probably be like.. "what sight possesses you?", which is... still kind of the same i suppose but it's just an unnecessarily intense way to say it 😂

🥰 okay! question particle done and it was not actually the easiest but anyway; onto the personaliser! "ki".

i'm not 100% sure if this sort of thing exists in other languages or what it might be called to begin researching, but it's ostensibly a way to turn an external item or concept into something internal or individualised

asté (star/s) for instance is a very overused word in their language, understandably. you can use it to refer to gaseous bodies, other Celestials, other non-Celestial beings, or even a specific individual rank within a relationship system. ei asté applies an amount of ownership over the star/s, but still does not make them an individual in their own right. you would most likely use this if you happened to be carting around an actual giant flaming ball of gas

ei astéki however immediately makes the star something more personal, a little soul-deep. maybe it's a warm light inside you, or maybe it's the beating heart of another living being. dropping the 'ei' you could use this as a nickname, though it'd be kind of like calling someone 'person'.

"ei astéki skotei koris eu" // "my stars dimmed lacking you" // functionally just a really big ham "i missed you"

🤏 alright rolling on, last one: a diminutive. this one's easier i think; maybe i ought have started here. oh well!

like it says on the tin, this is to make things small and/or cute! the particle is ró and it is usually tacked on at or towards the end of a word. much like in english i think this is usually done affectionately. though it could be done a little pettily or rudely, being small in size is significantly less of a negatively-judged-concept by Celestials than being low in brightness.

here's some examples, probably the easiest way to go about this one! all of these are actively affectionate, not unlike a pet name?

moiydísró - (small) cheeky one astéróki - small star (personaliser; makes this a clear nickname) ei Vaýtitaró - my little gravity

💬 and then to wrap up, this last part about verbs and conjugations!

answering this one with complete confidence would require that i were a bit better at this and had it more fixed and figured out, but i'll do my best!! i'm not really basing the grammar off any one language in particular (I only use translations to form a rough sound/word and go from there), just kind of what feels like the right sort of vibe.

because i was just doing this for myself and for fun i didn't start out with any rules, just rolled with what i enjoyed! if you were doing conlang more seriously i think it would help to set those rules up at the outset 😅

in its present state, my starspeak seems to me to be a topic prominent language with less individual conjugations and more modifiers; including significant reliance on sentence order and word placement

so instead of having many different words for see (seen, saw, to see) it's more about the placement, word combinations, and other modifiers;

ei épios - me see (a request, often used in place of 'wake up') vlépios ei - seeing by me (active tense added by vl but it's not strictly necessary) eu épios - you see (the speaker sees the target) épios-koris eu - without seeing by you (sight possesses a term for "lack", so the sight itself is lacking. "you don't see clearly", ostensibly.) épios ei prioto - seeing by me before (i saw it earlier)

this is sort of a necessity because right now the overall variety of words is limited; both by the earliness of its development and also because i think that this is a species that might not have needed a lot of words.

maybe they moved the same few hundred words around and minced them up in new ways rather than making lots of new ones. maybe they might have communicated through body language as much as with words (despite how much galacta knight clearly loves the sound of his own voice) or maybe i'll change my mind and they'll be a talkative bunch and we'll have dozens of new words soon 😂

anyway, i hope this is a ~fun and cool answer~ that you will enjoy despite its incredible lateness and sprawling length!! thank you so so much for asking me about the language; as you can tell i dearly love to talk about it despite its nebulousness, and i'm sorry it took me so long to get this out!

[little-piece-of-tamlin]

hello my beautiful mutuals followers and anyone else who is reading this post, could i entice you into reading 1,6k words of angst about this one very tragic icy man?

once again inspired by a prompt from this list by @andwhatyousaid

Oh My Cold And Bleeding Heart (1600 words) by silly_zsofi Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Kaeya (Genshin Impact) Additional Tags: Angst, Non-Graphic Violence, lots of blood tho, Mentioned Mondstadt Characters (Genshin Impact), august summery prompt list, the aftermath of a nasty fight with the abyss, Abyss Order (Genshin Impact), i like kaeya therefore he is my stress ball Summary: Kaeya stumbles into his flat in what could only be described as a post-murder-spree haze. His heart is still pumping that adrenalin-filled blood into his veins, his senses are still catching every little twitch and shift in his surroundings, his mind is crafting battle strategy after battle strategy, expecting an enemy behind every corner. He swallows his agitation down and closes the front door behind himself. It's over. He's out. They are all out. ~ An Abyss Order stronghold has gone under the radar of the Knights of Favonious, and when they finally take notice, clearing it out is not an easy task. Kaeya deals with the aftermath alone.

[angelbear-s]

[🧸] NOW TRACKING #HIBIEBEAR !! ♥︎

hello hello friends <3 in order to get things a bit more sorted here again (re: catch up on all the little gifts you left in userbbie for me <3), a change must be done ! so, after much though + asking for opinions, i will now be using hibiebear (all lowercase) as my tracking tag from here on out :D from today onward, please use it instead of userbbie.

i will still be checking userbbie for the next month or so while i catch up, but PLEASE don’t use it for anymore of your lovely creations — i will no longer be tracking it.

the same rules i had for userbbie apply to hibiebear; any whitewashed/colorwashed/etc. sets won’t be rb’d(so please save us both time nd either a) try to Not do any of that or b) don’t tag me.), don’t tag me in b.ts/n.ewjeans/i.llit/s.uju/etc. — i am under no obligation to rb Every post under my tag .. so don’t even try it, stolen works won’t be rb’d and poster will be blocked/muted, and lastly — it’s open to everyone! mutuals nd non-mutuals are welcome to use it. (for any more info/rules, feel free to climb into my askbox/message me💗)

thank you, and i hope you feel very loved this week,

- ur local bie bear 🧸💗