#and if i cannot fast for two days or more i’m just not trying hard enough

[lqnar]

Mfw i want to break my fast but i remember some guy on reddit fasts for way longer w ease and doesnt havf anoreixa so im being a bitch and should just keep going bc it’sso easy to just not eat what kind of fatass am i

[nymphomatique]

wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

[shiningmystic]

Messages from your Spirit Guides PAC 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

─── ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ───

Welcome friends, to your sprit guide reading whoever your guides may be they always respond to you.

I only call upon the spirits that look fondly upon you and see the being beneath all the judgement and ego, there is just essence. Unconditional love is what I always dip down to even if there are days that I cannot do it for myself, I know it is always present and that gives me much comfort on my worst days. Mental health awareness is real and always check in with yourself especially being chronically honed in on the bad shit that happens around you or is happening. Cultivating slowness is an everyday job for all of us but when we do it we do become thankful. I'm a bit rusty so forgive me if some of my words may be repetitive. Drop a follow to know when I post another general reading!

Pick your Photo:

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Pile I: colors of light 🧚🏾‍♀️

The lovers (rx), 6 of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, the heirophant (rx), 9 of wands (rx)

Back of the deck: ace of cups (rx), knight of swords, 7 of cups

Pile one to begin, your guides sent me images of the sun peering through glass and reflecting rainbow colors which really makes me feel as though you are a deep person but from day to day you may feel dull. Your guides are reminding you, sending you messages of your inner light and how it shines out even if you hide it and reflects back in people places or things. There is a lot about beauty here and how to stay genuine to yourself; your beauty is unique and comparing your beauty to someone else’s is a crime against them and you. If you genuinely don’t think you’re beautiful on outside, then there are always ways to work with what we have when we are ready to tackle it (honestly sometime i need to cry it out). Now on with the card pull:

Wow, I feel a lot going on with so many messages, I’ll try and keep it concise.

First message: you will always be enough is a huge message. It doesn’t matter even if they left you, even if someone who you loved told you that you were too much or even feeling that way towards yourself and your guides do not agree. The more we believe that the more we hurt ourselves and continue to prove it right. Even if you are ‘too much’ there are people out there that would disagree. - huge lesson I’m learning is that two truths can exist at the same space even if they oppose the other. For example, when I talk about my trauma, I feel vulnerable and fearful yet after the fact I feel both emotions, strong and weak. Both fear and strength. You are not to much and even if they couldn’t handle you, your a whole lot of love and light especially from the energy from the image.

Message two: some of you are away from family or your country, things are changing and it’s overwhelming in many ways. There is a lot of choices and a lot of overwhelming feelings towards making them. Your guides are advising you to trust in yourself and ignore the voices around that do not harbor understanding. Trust in your own judgment and believe in what you’re doing because it is your life and your actions that shape it; you will be the one living with it so always believe in yourself, you know what’s best for you and even when we make that mistake, we need a gentle reminder that mistakes are apart of success. if you don't give yourself the space to learn then you will continue to never know what is for you.

Message three: it’s always you pile one that always gets the message to be kinder to yourself; life isn’t a strict fast paced all or nothing (obviously life is very hard now for many.) but your guides are reminding you life will have its downs and if you can’t take time for those downs then they will be crashes. I’m feeling loved ones coming through this pile, so just know your guides understand your struggle and want to remind you as well that they are always with you.

Lots of burn out energy, you are so strong, please believe me when I say you are enough.

To the lovely humans who broke up with someone or let go of a person who you love but was toxic, you did the right thing for yourself, i send you love my love.

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Pile II: Stepping stones ☄️

8 of cups, the hierophant, 7 of cups (rx), ace of pentacles, temperance, the moon

Back of the deck: queen of wands and 2 of cups (rx)

Right now you’re stepping up to the unknown, it’s natural to be fearful of risk. Pile 2 I sense that good things will come to you when you make the choice, even with hesitation don’t doubt the choices you have already made. all we can do is what we know now. the effort you put into your work will pour back into you. I can sense a lot of hesitation but still moving forward and that takes courage! Your guides are proud of you stepping up to the plate.

I can see some people going back to school and graduating scared that they will never find stability. Some of you are taking chances and starting businesses especially creative ones (relatable content). Your guides are supporting you on your financial endeavors and know the future feels scary for many.

It’s very unstable in many places right now so I understand the confusion and the fear but the pendulum always swings back and things always go back into balance again even by force (which we shouldn’t let it to come to an extreme but whatever.) You are strong people but this creativity needs to be grounded in reality when it comes to money; be realistic and continue with your motivated attitude towards your endeavors. honestly some of you are and are focusing to hard on the little details, relax and just do what's in front of you.

Believe in yourself pile 2. You have grown to doubt yourself and abilities at times because of push back and it’s actually super healthy for intelligent people to question themselves but to much self doubt only leaves us frozen. Now is the time to go ahead and shine!

The energy for you is ripe with opportunities your guides are saying go ahead, take the calculated risk, do the thing you want to but just know take time to do it with love and integrity you will succeed.

The moon and the 7 of cups reverse tell me about your doubt, anxiety and not knowing what may happen is the worst but life is all about the mystery and discovering your path. dear wanderer, not all souls who walk a lonely path are lost, maybe you'll run into another.

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Pile III: Glowing mushrooms 🍄

Page of cups, Death, The Emperor, King of pentacles, strength (rx), Ace of pentacles, 4 of pentacles, Page of Swords

Your path to transformation takes determination and strength, but understand the power is within you and how you have gotten far.

Mushrooms are pretty crazy! They grow in so many places and are resilient; I’m not saying you’re a mushroom (even though honestly, it’s a vibe) but your guides are bringing it up. Every photo is connected to the pile it is above and yours is about your strength and resilience (pile 2 as well but it's much more emphasized here).

I mean so many people are keeping it together right now and you’re no different but I feel an extra sprinkle of shit being thrown your way recently or this could be a theme. Keep doing what you’re doing is a message for many but to keep taking the steps to this new life and I mean new life. I don’t mean moving away and starting over (unless that resonates) but you are changing it up, starting new habits and new routines, taking steps constantly at a different pace but never stopping, (it’s a lot that you have been juggling I’m surprised I don’t see the 2 of pentacles) Your guides are like Dang they got this.

Lots are taking big steps in life atm and your frozen on a choice (pile 2 also has some of that energy) there is a message of that you’re only human and sometimes it’s alright to be vulnerable and look back at the good times but the here and now is calling, stay focused and channel your emperor energy guys.

Please don’t neglect your mental health, many of you may be overworking even when you feel like you haven’t pushed yourself hard enough *whacks head* stop! You are working enough it’s just that things in reality are kinda messed up and that’s why there so many of us like this. the world is dysfunctional so of course we will be too. But of course that doesn’t solve the issue of having to keep on when your anxious and depressed, but a minute of your day is all you need to cry, to get a hug from someone, I always recommend self care. You can be strong and vulnerable at the same time and I’m willingly absorbing the information from my therapist on how two truths can exist at the same time even if they oppose the other. Be upset and when you can get up and finish that assignment, project, shipment, sale, you seriously got this but I know this is more about the stress and anxiety all this work carries with it.

Stable energy is present in the spread which makes me feel like your guides are just cheering you on knowing how hard it has been and that you are reaching positive new things especially with Death and this transformation that been going on. Be wary of spending for right now (as i assume you are tbh) but know that finances energetically will grow , just stay on task and carry yourself with pride because you are amazing!

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So those were the messages I picked up on, I hope they comfort and support you in some way, or even give you advice. Stay humble and lovely my friends.

Tarot decks used: Rider-Waite tarot deck

- ShiningMysticTarot ☀️

[suzukiblu]

hi, question for you, have you ever experienced prolonged writer’s block before? do you happen to have any advice for getting a writing flow going again, that you’d be willing to share?

bc i don’t want to get too heavy in your asks, but between chronic illness/fatigue and longterm autistic burnout i haven’t been able to write a single word in several years now, and GOD am i tired of it. it’s like all the stories and words are stuck inside me and i can see it all in my head but the faucet is jammed and i just can’t get it OUT! i have been slowly feeling like the creative embers are maybe starting to spark again but it’s so hard not to get impatient with myself because it never seems to actually transfer to paper (or word document or notes app). any ideas or tips?

no pressure to answer this if you don’t want to of course, regardless i really enjoy your writing and i’m so glad that i can at least engage with fandom through other authors even when i can’t write my own stories! 💛

Oh god, yeah, I DEFINITELY have experienced that, hahasob. I have gone through at LEAST a year or two without, like, putting down a single word or even drawing anything, just total creative block/not there-ness. Like I feel u on that one, bud.

Good news: now if I write less than 2k in a day I think "oh that's kinda low, huh", so like . . . definitely "didn't write jack shit for [ INSERT TIME PERIOD HERE ]" has yet to sink me, and therefore fuck if it's gonna sink ANY of us. We persevere!!

So like, in my experience actually helpful writing advice is just SO wildly "you just gotta try shit 'til something works"-based that I'mma just give you a list made up of a bunch of, like, assorted tips and tricks that I use on myself to make my brain put words down when it's being stubborn about it, though different ones work at different times and obvi YMMV here anyway because for obvious reasons these are all approaches that I have tailored to my own needs, hah, and some of them are a bit facetious and some are also a bit heavy, but absolutely and unironically I reguarly use them all and they have all repeatedly worked for me.

Also, they're all gonna be goin' behind a cut because WOW there's actually a lot more of them than I realized I had, hahaha. The psychiatrist who recently used me as a case study told me I was very self-aware, so take from that what you will, friend.

Get up and do a chore/take a shower/eat a snack/literally just walk through a friggin' doorway, more often than not it'll at least make your brain reorient enough for you to realize you were just beating your head against a wall and need to do [ INSERT DAMAGE CONTROL/HARM REDUCTION BEHAVIOR HERE ].

Track your progress. Write to-do lists and cross shit off 'em. Keep track of your word count when you write; put it in a spreadsheet or a notebook or on a graph on your bulletin board.

Get a NEW way to track your progress. I currently use, like, three different "to-do list" apps to varying degrees in varying ways, not counting just my basic calendar app ( for the record: Finch, Structured, and just a generic notes app, but mostly Finch and Structured and seriously I CANNOT recommend Finch enough, go get yourself a bird buddy immediately. do you want a friend code, I will GIVE you a friend code, I think it gives you a bonus mini-pet or something if you use it. ), and also set myself MANY a phone alarm to remind myself of things that I need to do in case I space out or get distracted by somebody/something/the specific phase of the moon.

Did you take your meds? Take your fucking MEDS, self, good LORD.

Leave the house even if for literally, like, thirty seconds to just stand in some actual natural light. Or leave the house to go eat at a cafe or library or fast food place and just put yourself in a new environment for literally any length of time whatsoever.

Switch pens. Switch notebooks. Get a NEW notebook. Use your laptop instead. Use your PHONE instead. Get a nicer notebook. Get a shittier notebook. Use the scratch paper at work. Use the Procreate app on your friggin' iPad if you gotta, whatever, you do what you want!!

Don't write!!

Seriously just don't, go watch an actual scripted TV show or movie or read a book or a comic or some fic. Feed your brain something you didn't have to make up yourself.

Come up with a convoluted way to trick yourself into being accountable to someone else. Join a writing group. Make a Tumblr post about how you're gonna go write now. Ask Tumblr for their opinion on what you should write now. Ask Tumblr to spin this random wheel spinner game you generated and tell you what answer they got, and then write THAT.

HAVE you had a snack? Did you eat breakfast? Did you eat lunch? Did you remember to move around the house at any point whatsoever during the day? Maybe like, do that. Like, at least the snack part. Maybe a stretch or something wouldn't hurt either though.

Meal prep is so fucking useful and saves you SO much annoying time and also, like, makes you eat actual veggies and fruit and shit, genuinely actually works, the gym bros were not wrong, go figure. Also then you don't have to think about what you're gonna eat all the time and then cook it and then clean up and then--yeah anyway meal prep, god bless it. Once a week I make a batch of pasta salad and roast a pan of good-when-roasted veggies with like, garlic and salt and pepper and some olive oil and add bacon after, and then I portion it all into tupperware and in the morning I add spinach or crack an egg into that day's share of veggies for breakfast and maybe make some toast, and just grab one of the pasta salads whenever I want something lunch-like. It saves SO much time and distraction when you are hurting for free time/focus. So, SO much.

Unfortunately the gym bros were also correct about exercise, if that's doable for you. Exercise does in fact make you feel better and more energized and less depressed, fuck those guys for being right about that shit. Assuming you have enough iron in your blood to actually, like, do it, which admittedly I frequently do not, but the point stands.

Dude why are you even trying to write, you're so tired, go to bed and get up early, you write SO much better in the mornings anyway.

Hey, I know that's how you USED to write, but like, is that actually how you write right now? Is that actually even what works for you anymore? Actually maybe outlines COULD be helpful or maybe you don't need all those worldbuilding notes all at once; maybe your inner architect needs to let the building decay and go back to nature or maybe your inner gardener has developed a taste for trellises, metaphorically speaking and all.

Please eat something. Also please DRINK something. Like ideally water but we'll go for anything that involves a liquid, seriously.

Hey did you know actually if you ONLY eat instant ramen and microwave pizza you'll probably get scurvy and die instead of, like, writing your magnum opus? Like probably?? Put a fucking egg in that ramen, man! Slice up a scallion in that bitch!! EAT AN ACTUAL WHOLE FRUIT or at least, like, buy a smoothie with actual fruit involved somewhere in it on occasional. The whole fruit, unfortunately, is better. I like apples. Apples take a REAL long time to rot if I forget they exist for a couple weeks or whatever. But like, mango smoothies are also the shit, can't turn down a mango smoothie or a good strawberry-banana. Hey did you know the grocery store just, like, will let you just buy one single apple and they don't give a fuck? You're free! The cashier won't remember you in five minutes!! Buy your one single apple and work your way up to maybe two apples next time!! Also now I want an apple!!!!

Don't write. Don't write THAT. Write the other thing. No, the OTHER other thing. No, not THAT other other thing.

The rules are made up and the points don't matter.

Fuck it, we ball.

[ INSERT FULL-THROTTLE STIMMING BEHAVIOR HERE ]

Only God can judge me and I'm still technically agnostic.

God, that's the weirdest fucking idea you've ever had, literally NO ONE but you would read it. So you should write 180k of it and also make it even weirder and yes it will absolutely be the one fic that just about everyone in MCU fandom who knows you exist knows you for, don't even worry about it, this isn't based on a true story at all.

Actually you could probably storyboard this scene to figure out wtf is happening here. Or like just draw literally anything related to this story, a bit of that might work some kinks out of the whole process.

Did you get that snack yet?

Hey go pet your dog, she's very soft and wants attention and also her OWN snack. Pet your dog and eat an apple and idk watch some anime or a weird niche documentary or an even more niche reality show, have you seen Deep-Fried Dynasty yet, it's on Hulu and was surprisingly engrossing.

Why are you even following the rules, we've been over this, they are made up and the points do NOT matter, and also you're not even getting graded for this anyway.

Yeah okay that thing you wrote sucked, but it turns out that Dean Koontz somehow has a writing career and also Twilight happened to all of us, so actually even the suckiest thing you ever write is gonna be better than the perfect ideal of the scene in your head, because the suckiest thing you ever write is something OTHER people can READ. And again: Dean Koontz has a career. Colleen HOOVER has a career. And fucking good for them, they're killing it, they are fucking WRITING!! Who gives a damn anyway, fix it in editing if you're that worried about it, they call it a rough draft for a reason.

Hey if that thing doesn't work you can just, like, delete it. Or rewrite it. Or stick it in your back pocket and do something else for a while. The sunk-cost fallacy is bullshit and you don't have to listen to it.

Maybe drink some more caffeine, that'll calm you down. [ DISCLAIMER: THIS PIECE OF ADVICE TAILORED TO A PERSON WITH MORE ADHD THAN LITERALLY NINETY-FIVE PERCENT OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH ADHD; THAT PERCENTAGE IS ON THE ACTUAL LEGITIMATE DIAGNOSTIC PAPERWORK ]

Seriously you can just write anything you want, nobody can stop you. Only God can judge me and I'm still technically agnostic enough that that's like, thirty-seventy odds at BEST.

God that idea is so niche and weird and niche, better tone it the fuck down to--oh wait no mass appeal means you're writing popcorn and literally no one will remember it in five minutes anyway, stop reflexively censoring yourself for some imaginary audience that will just chew straight through your one-size-fits-all story for The Content(tm) and then immediately move onto the next one without even bothering to hit "kudos" or remember anything about it later. I have written shit so weird that people still remember how weird I was TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER, man, and that is why literally anyone will EVER remember that you exist or wanna read your stuff or follow you to a new fandom where they don't even know the source material, fuck it, they'll wiki some shit. And also who cares anyway, it's YOUR stuff and YOU wanna read it. Your agnostically-possible god did not make you this weird and niche for no reason, don't pussy out now!!

Actually you can just write in the bath/on the bus/while waiting for your roommate to finish up with the guy running this estate sale. You've got your phone, right? Fuck it, pack a notebook. Pack an extra notebook. Pack a smaller notebook. Pack a BIGGER notebook.

It's not stupid if it works. You don't have to do what literally ANYONE else is doing, you just have to do what works.

You can literally just skip to the good part and write that, actually. Nobody's gonna throw you in writer-jail. What are we, cops?? Actually do you even need this lead-up here or do you just need to write this one specific blorbo gettin' laid REAL enthusiastically kinkily and/or maybe having a nervous breakdown sobfest over their perception of their personal self-worth and everything else is kinda just window dressing??

I mentioned the snack thing, right? Also sugar rushes are fake but sugar CRASHES are real so maybe be a little careful on that one, maybe buy some trail mix/jerky/smoked salmon, smoked salmon is SO good, smoked salmon is just objectively delicious.

Go talk somebody's ear off about what you're trying to write about. Bonus points if you can find somebody who matches your freak enough that you write, uhhhhh /checks smudged writing on wrist/ a 60k Overwatch fic in two weeks and also like 280k of Witcher fic in less than a year specifically because they're just a real good cheerleader. Wow. Wow that was a lot more Witcher fic than I was aware I had written. THE POINT IS LOOK FOR A WRITING BUDDY, WRITING BUDDIES ARE THE SHIT.

If the writing buddy doesn't work out though the first time I won NaNoWriMo I did it directly out of spite because someone said they didn't think I actually would. So like, spite is always an option, you can always keep that one on tap if you gotta.

Stephen King did not write "On Writing" because he didn't want you to write. Francesca Lia Block did not introduce you to the weirdest and gayest shit teenage!you had ever read so you'd grow up and be a fucking NORMIE about this shit. SIR TERRY PRATCHETT DID NOT WRITE LIKE SIXTEEN OF YOUR FAVORITE BOOKS OF ALL TIME BECAUSE HE DID NOT WANT YOU TO WRITE WHAT YOU WERE ACTUALLY FRICKIN' INTO.

Clean your room. No, better than that. Okay fuck it just set a ten-minute timer and do what you can in that time, we work with the spoons we've got.

Random number generator. Random color generator. Random "hey followers here's a very oblique poll, don't even worry about what it's about, just click a button please and thank you".

Did you know the internet will just GIVE you free graphs/trackers/bullet journal page designs and you can just print 'em out and do whatever the heck you want with 'em?? Yes my new little "color in the squares every day you do the thing" tracker IS just six daily writing tasks and two daily "just go pick some stuff up in this specific room" tasks and that is MY BUSINESS, MS. SIR AND MR. MADAM AND MX. [ INSERT BUZZER SOUND ]. And also, like, has done much better at getting me to do chores than anything else has in a minute, go fig.

You can actually just do whatever you want forever.

Literally, like just forever.

Fuck, how many times HAVE you done this? You'll never get better for good, it'll always go bad again, you'll always get sick again, you'll always get SAD again, you'll always fucking forget how to even DO this again and have to start all over.

Well yes, obviously, because you'll always have done it again. So do it again. One more time.

( seriously though did you take your meds-- )

[shkudss]

Weakened by Eywa Pt. 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Masterlist

Summary: Ao’nung finally realizes that his actions have consequences

Warnings: curse words, bullying, mental breakdown, English isn’t my first language

Author’s note: it my first Avatar writing, so I hope you like it! This idea was spontaneous and I’m not really good at writing, but I hope you’ll enjoy it! I’m still learning how to use Tumblr properly since I don’t really use it 🥲

Yawntutsyip - darling, little loved one

Yaymak - foolish, ignorant

You thought that all these days when you flew to the water clans were the hardest in you life. Little did you know that life with Metkayina would be harder. You expected to finally live a normal life, doing your chores without being sacred to be shot by sky people. Now you’re safe, but things didn’t get better.

Since your arrival, these boys were bullying all your siblings, including you. You have no idea why it is important for Ao’nung to see totally similar to him Na’vis. You all are same avatars with slight differences that were unavoidable due to the environment you’re supposed to live in. Oh, yeah… supposed to live.

“What are you even doing here?”

“You’re so useless to our tribe”

“Go back to your monkey house”

All these words almost engraved in you mind without leaving space for other thoughts and hope. It’s been two weeks since you arrived and you still haven’t ridden an Ilu successfully, you can’t hold your breath as Metkayinas do. This makes you feel horrible and believe all these mean words.

“C’mon, Y/N, you can do it!”

Neteyam is trying to teach you how to deal with ilu and his voice is so calming, he really believes in you as an older brother. You wish you could just believe him, but insecurity lays too deep and securely in your mind.

“I don’t know… I can’t…”

Your voice was really soft and quiet as you’re the calmest child in your family. You don’t like loud sounds and fast actions. That’s just the way you are. Neytiri says that Sylwanin was just like you.

Despite being slower and more sensitive that other Sullys they loved and protected you with all their heart. Jake knew that Kiri and Tuk are different, they can deal with their problems a lot easier, while you cannot. When something bad to your family or yourself happens, you worry a lot and you won’t tell anyone about your worries unless they make you to. That was the hardest part of you character.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need to take a break? We can continue tomorrow, don’t worry yawntutsyip.”

Neteyam was worried about your mental state, you were too quiet these days and it never meant anything good. Trying to make you speak about your feelings was completely impossible. You always think that your family has too much to worry about to burden them with your own issues. You want to be like Kiri and Tuk. That’s hilarious, Tuk is way younger than you but she’s able to deal with her emotions way easier than you.

“I’m good. Can we just take a break for like half an hour? I think my brain melts.”

You awkwardly smiled at the end trying to lighten the mood. Neteyam smiled back, feeling relief as you seemed to be just tired. He didn’t want you to hide anything from him and your family.

“Okay, yawntutsyip. I’ll go find Lo’ak and make sure his ass hadn’t get in trouble again. Kiri is on that side of the beach by the way. You can join her, she’s probably flirting with plants again. Let’s meet here in an hour.”

You laughed at his little joke about Kiri. But that’s a fact. Since you arrived here all she’s been doing is examining all local flora and fauna. You missed your time together in the forest, maybe now you’ll have a chance to talk and just be together.

“Okay!”

“Tell me if something goes wrong.”

You knew this look. The big brother look. Sometimes you think how hard it would be for you to live without your family, the way you’re connected to them something really fascinating. And one of your love signs is time. Spending time with your family and each member is the way you show love, the way you feel protected and loved.

You see Kiri laying down in water and looking for something. She didn’t see anyone around, attracted by… water? You didn’t try to understand what’s going on in her mind.

“Hey, pandora geek.”

You stood in front of Kiri and the shadow from your body covered her. Only after that she raised her head and squinted at you.

“I thought you’re with Neteyam. What’s wrong?” She sat on the sand, water was covering her legs a little. You did the same thing, hugging your knees and placing your head on them.

“We took a break, my brain doesn’t work properly. I still can’t ride ilu.”

Hopeless sigh made your sister chuckle, but then she saw your eyes. They were full of sadness, you were not happy. Kiri felt guilt, as your sister she had to be with you, she forgot that Sullys stick together.

“What bothers you?” You were not sure if it’ll be okay to tell her everything. But you family always encourage you to speak what lays in your heart, so you decided to do it.

“There’s a lot… I miss home, I miss flying with you, Neteyam and Lo’ak around Hallelujah mountains.” You were vulnerable now and this is one of those rare moments when you opened your feelings easily. Kiri was the only one you did it with. You could feel tears coming to your eyes, you needed this. “I just miss our way of life. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to get used to it. Especially, when you always hear…”

“Hey monkeys! Still can’t ride ilu? How can you be so yaymak? You’re both freaks!” you could recognize this voice in millions. “One sister has demon blood, another is too dumb to do things that even infants can do!”

Ao’nung and his friends were coming towards you. Kiri’s body immediately tensed, you could feel it.

“What do you want? Is there nothing to do?”

Ao’nung and his friends came closer and you both stood up. Kiri was looking at him angrily, ready to fight. You were supposed to have such a good conversation, opening each other your soul, but this bully spoiled everything.

“My goal for now is to get rid of such fake Na’vis like you two and your stupid little brother.”

You were furious, how dare he talk like this about your family. Yes, he did say mean things to you, but he still picked his words. Now it’s too much. Nobody can talk about your family this way.

“Shut up and don’t get close to me and my siblings!” You tried to get into protective sister mode. Kiri was shocked by the way you raised your voice. She’s never heard such tone from you before.

“Look at this! Little girl knows how to talk?” Ao’nung was teasing you and laughing with Roxto and the rest of his friends. “Maybe you’ll learn how to swim properly soon by the time my future brother or sister will turn 10. Hopefully.”

You clenched your fists, trying to hold all your emotions. Anger, offense, sadness. It felt like a hurricane of extremely high spectrum of emotions, which was hard for you to bear.

“Don’t you dare…”

You didn’t control yourself that you were coming closer and pushing him. The reason why you felt this way was in him.

He did this to you.

You didn’t care that he was taller than you and all you faced was his shoulders. You didn’t care that he barely moved as you tried to hurt him as much as he hurt you. All he did was laughing. It seemed like Ao’nung didn’t understand anything you said, like he didn’t see you breaking into pieces right in front of you.

“Calm down, you little skxawng!” It was a joke for him. For you it was your last piece of composure.

“You’re dumb! So dumb that you can’t even understand how much pain you give me! Every day I wish I don’t meet you so you won’t shower me with all your shit! Every night I cry myself to sleep because all your mean words you’ve said hurt me! And you don’t understand me, how can you be so mean?”

You were screaming at him and trying to hit, mental breakdown took over your senses. You could physically feel how your heart hurts and legs weaken. All sounds were heard as if from under the water, you didn’t see what’s going on around you. Someone’s holding your shoulders and pushing you to their chest to not let you fall on your knees.

“Don’t touch her!”

Furious voice sounded from afar. Neteyam. Your brother who always protects you, surrounds you with love you need. That’s why he calls you yawntutsyip. Little loved one.

You could feel your brother as he came closer to you. His steps were as heavy as his mood. When he saw you breaking down in front of this asshole and because of this asshole, he almost lost his temper. The way chief’s son was holding and looking at you, finally realizing that his actions have consequences. He had to drive you crazy to understand it.

“Back off! Now!”

He pushed Ao’nung as he got closer to him, taking off his hands off you. You didn’t realize it was him, who held you all this time. Was it long? Actually, everything happened in less than 2 minutes, but for you it was like an infinity.

“What happened?”

Lo’ak was here, he saw you crying in Kiri’s hands and Neteyam fighting with Ao’nung and his friends. He didn’t need to check on all details to punch Roxto and other guys.

“It’s fine, we’re here. Don’t worry.” Kiri was sitting with you and slowly swaying, while tapping your head to calm you down.

“I’m sorry, I…” that’s all you could say.

Neither you nor Kiri noticed how the fight stopped until Neteyam came closer and examined you. His eyebrow was cut so as his lower lip, but he didn’t care. Now he could feel only your pain.

“Yawntutsyip… my sister.”

“I’m sorry, Neteyam. I didn’t…” You were gasping for breath from crying, not being able to collect your thoughts.

“Shhh, that’s fine, you’re fine. We’re here, nobody will hurt you again.” Kiri gave you to Neteyam, he was calming you down repeating the same moves as Kiri did. You were crying, letting all pain, that was suppressed inside of your soul, to flow through you.

Your siblings knew that you need to feel it to let it go. That is the only way for relief.

“Let’s go home, yawntutsyip?” Neteyam’s voice was calming as always, he hated seeing you crying.

You just nodded in agreement, hiding your face in brother’s neck and holding him as if someone can take you from him in any moment.

Yes, most Na’vis are brave, ready to fight and protect their beloved ones. But you just can’t do it. You are the one who needs to be protected. Eywa created you that way and you can do nothing about it.

“Don’t ever come to our sisters, you little bitch! Are you so insecure that you’re afraid to battle with me and choose those who are weaker than you?” Lo’ak didn’t miss to say the last goodbye before following after all of you. He didn’t wait for the answer, he didn’t need it.

Ao’nung was standing up there and looking as your figures disappear. No words are in his mind, except for one.

“Fuck”

————————————————————————

I hope you liked it! I’m not sure if I’ll write the second part🫣 I have an idea but idk if it’s worth it, we’ll see!

[themoonlitquill]

Whispers Woven in Shadow. (3/?)

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧? 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚? 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮.

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝖠𝗓𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗅 𝗑 𝖥𝖾𝗆!𝖮𝖢 (𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ; I seriously cannot thank ya’ll enough for ALLLL the love!! 😭 I’m blown away! Honestly. I’m really happy and I’ve been BUZZING. EEEE! So, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It took me a little longer because I wanted to get it just right and I think this is the closest I could. 😬 Also!! I made the visual up above (I made Pinterest boards too PLS FMDKDKKD) and the filter is called ‘tardiness’ by @elliesnovella on Insta! ENJOY. 🩵

𝖳𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ; 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 (𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳), 𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿-𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗺𝗼𝗶𝗹, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 (𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁) 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝗱.

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 4116.

Two days had passed and Ariadne still hadn’t tried talking to anyone else.

Except for the shadow when it came to check in on her - at least, that’s what she assumed it was doing - and herself, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary.

She thought about trying with Nesta first and then quickly took that right off the list when she had stopped by to bring a few books she thought her sister might like, only to be glared at and the stack snatched from her arms with the door slamming seconds after.

Nesta had taken the books though.

And that was something.

Then she considered Elain, who was marked off even quicker than Nesta. Their rooms were connected and when Ariadne had knocked, the door flew open to reveal the eldest Archeron with her blue eyes seeming to glow and had spoken in a tone so sharp that it made her ears ring.

She wasn’t great at lip reading - everyone always spoke too fast - but she managed to catch ‘leave’ and judging by the vitriol in her sister’s expression, she guessed it wasn’t a particularly pleasant string of words; it led to her decision of staying away for a while.

That’s when she found herself thinking of Feyre and how much she missed her.

Ariadne knew that she would be the first to want to try, to actually be able to talk instead of half-relayed messages on paper, and yet, it wasn’t possible. Because Feyre had gone with… What was his name? The High Lord of Spring. Timothy? Yeah, okay. Either way, her sister had left, with no clue as to when she’d be coming back.

It was an ever-present ache in Ariadne’s chest and no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn’t go away.

You need to get out of this room. You’re suffocating in here and the more you think, the more you’ll drive yourself insane, she blows a huff through her nose, finding she was annoyed with herself, which was worse than being annoyed at someone else in her opinion. Just get up and leave. Go explore! Do something! Anything!

Her thumb and index finger reach up to pinch the bridge of her nose as she releases an exasperated sigh; she stands from the seat by the window and follows her own advice, leaving the damn room and storming off towards the library.

No one would bother her there.

Ariadne throws open the doors with all her strength and strides over to the armchair she always sat in, plopping down with a second huff, brow furrowed. She hated being at war with herself because she couldn’t get away from herself. So, she tended to avoid the things that frustrated her the most, which almost never worked out.

Maybe on a special occasion, if there was such a thing.

But usually, she ended up doing what she tried to avoid and always searched for a place of solitude. The irony was not lost on her; the deaf girl looking to be in an even quieter place, having found comfort in the isolated silence. It would make her laugh if she thought she was capable of it anymore.

And now?

It was like she couldn’t sit still no matter what and she wanted to be around people. She didn’t even care who it was, but it seemed that she was the only one wandering around here since her sisters refused to come out, which limited the available options.

Ariadne closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, willing herself to relax her mind so it didn’t explode from the pressure building; it made it more difficult to focus and all she wanted was for it to go away. She needed to scream and she couldn’t do that, not now, not again.

Deep breaths, Ari. You’re fine. Relax. I promise, she swallows dryly and picks at the skin around her fingers, wishing for any sort of distraction. Feyre will come back and everything will be alright. She’ll listen. You’ll have her to talk to. Even if it isn’t all the time, it’s still something.

She flexes her hands to stop the incessant bad habit and then smooths them over the satin fabric of the pants she wore, the cool texture against her palms paired with the motion actually managing to soothe her.

See? You’re okay. Got all worked up for nothing, Ariadne takes a breath, then another, and tilts her head, the air around her shifting, tickling her skin. A sigh of relief emits from her lips and the opalescent wall in her mind begins to tremble, the doorway appearing more quickly than it ever had.

Everything rushes out of her at once. “I’m glad you’re here, thank that blasted Cauldron! I couldn’t stay in that room any longer. I couldn’t! Where have you been? I haven’t seen you all day!”

Nothing.

Silence.

“You can talk.”

Everything freezes.

That wasn’t the shadow, no, in fact, that was the furthest thing from the shadow.

Her eyes snap open and a soft whoosh leaves her as she stares directly into hazel tinged with gold - rimmed with lashes that even Nesta would be jealous of - and held a mixture of shock, curiosity, and something else that she wasn’t quite sure of.

It was Azriel.

She had just spoken to Azriel.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

Ariadne couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything other than stare. What had she just done? He wasn’t supposed to be the first one she revealed this to! It was supposed to be Feyre - the one person who always cared about what she wanted and what mattered to her - and even if she had to wait to do it, she knew it was going to be perfectly fine and now that was all over with.

It was supposed to be Feyre. This was all wrong!

“You’re a Daemati,” Azriel’s voice rolls in and she’s actually able to hear it inside her head, as clearly as her own. It was low, deep, velvety, and her breath hitches; it wasn’t like the shadow’s whisper at all, instead, there was quiet authority laced in his tone and a richness that reminded her of a thick chocolate, though there was a slight edge that emanated a danger of the lethal kind. It was… It was beautiful.

“Yes,” Ariadne blinks and watches him as he watches her, noting that even in the crouched position he was in, he still remained a respectable enough distance away. “A new one.”

His head tilts and the shadows around his shoulder flourish about excitedly. With a subtle tug, he manages to reel them in and give his full attention to the Archeron sister who had managed to take him completely by surprise, which wasn’t exactly easy to do. “You seem to be doing pretty well.”

She falls silent for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Talking with the shadow hadn’t been hard at all and now she felt like a fish out of water, flopping around and utterly devoid of any semblance of words; she didn’t know what to do.

Azriel waits patiently with his elbows rested on his knees, deducting that this must be even more jarring to her than it was for him. He wasn’t impatient by any means and had no intention to rush her.

“I’ve been practicing,” Ariadne finally responds, a single hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind one of her delicately pointed ears and he tracks the movement without her notice.

“Have you?”

She nods her head, clasping her hands back together. “The basics. Opening and closing the door, some organizing,” her thumb brushes over her knuckles. Why was she so nervous? There was no way she’d ever feel this way if it were Feyre. That had to be it; Ariadne just didn’t know Azriel, if she did, there wouldn’t be any of this feeling. “But no knowledge of obliterating minds. I don’t want to do that.”

The corner of Azriel’s lips twitch. She was different than he expected and it piqued his interest, making him wonder what else there might be. “It would be a good idea to learn regardless.”

“And if I did, who would I ask, Shadowmaster? You? Rhysand? Feyre isn’t here, you know,” she levels him with a look and his eyebrows raise before there’s a deep rumbling in her head, rich, warm, and sending a shiver down the length of her spine. What was that? A laugh? Maybe? If it was, she wasn’t sure why, which brought back the annoyed expression on her face. “What’s so funny?”

He works to suppress the smile struggling to show itself, though the amusement was definitive. “I’m the Shadowmaster now?”

Azriel watches keenly as Ariadne’s narrowed eyes widen a fraction, realization setting in, and she tenses slightly, breath stilling, and he finds himself feeling a sense of relief when she inhales. She sits up straighter and her voice fills his head as it had before; tentative and unsure, then flowing in like a whisper of moonlight, luminescent, gentle and fleeting.

“I mixed up your titles, didn’t I? I did it twice,” a frown tugs at the corners of her mouth and he doesn’t like the way it settles so quickly, appearing too comfortable. “That would make you the Spymaster and a Shadowsinger.”

“I think I like Shadowmaster better.”

Surprise flashes across her face before she relaxes a little, though there was still an uneasiness in the way she swallowed, and how her eyes flitted to him and then to her hands and back again. Azriel wasn’t sure what was bothering her so badly that it was lingering around, but it left a bad taste on his tongue.

“But you can call me Azriel.”

Ariadne blinks, noting the subtle hopefulness that was woven into his tone and finding that curious. Wouldn’t everyone call him that? “Azriel,” his shadows slither towards her, reaching for her ankles when they suddenly retreat and she tilts her head. “Why did you do that?”

His eyes seem to glow a little more golden then and they remind her of the sunrise peeking over a lush forest.

“Do what?”

“Pull them away from me.”

Azriel falls silent and his shoulders move, signifying he had taken a deep breath. Why? He stands from the crouched position and Ariadne leans forward suddenly, which is strange because what was she going to do? Follow him? He turns around and starts walking away, causing a pang to hit her chest, and she digs her nails into her skin. “Wait! I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to assume anything. I just thought that you commanded the shadows and I didn’t want you to think they scare me because they don’t. I actually think they’re very sweet.”

He moves further and her heart drops to her stomach; she had managed to drive away the first person she talked to because she had said the wrong thing.

How could this happen so fast? Was she really so bad?

Ariadne gnaws on her inner lower lip, thinking over how she should have worded it differently or if maybe she was too invasive? The shadows were his and he could do whatever he wanted to with them. It wasn’t any of her business.

If Azriel didn’t want them to touch her, then that was his right.

A flash of black catches her eye and she blinks, head lifting to find that the Shadowsinger had grabbed the other armchair and dragged it until it was only a few feet away from hers, now sitting with his wings lifted up over the back so they wouldn’t be crushed under his weight. His gaze finds hers, brow raising as he leans to the left with his arm rested on the chair and the other at his side, gloved hand on his thigh.

“I do and I don’t. They came to me and chose to listen to what orders I give. Though, I prefer to think of them as requests. They’re smarter than most people think and that actually ends up being a benefit to me and the work I do for Rhys,” Azriel dips his head, a few shadows curling around the arch of his wings, movements fluid as they swirl and reminding her of falling feathers dancing. “They’re meant to be kept close in case I need them. Good to know what you think of them though,” his lips curve slightly. “Does that answer your question?”

It did and it didn’t; there was still the unanswered one of why he felt the need to keep them from her. Surely she couldn’t be that big of a distraction? And if they had come to him willingly, shouldn’t they be allowed to have a bit of leeway too? The understanding of it all was just out of her reach and she desperately wished she could grab and hold onto it.

Ariadne sits back in the chair and pulls her legs underneath her, deciding to keep it to herself. This could possibly be the start of something great and she refused to ruin it, especially when she had never had an actual friend before.

“Yes,” No. She taps her finger on her knee. “What sort of work do you do?”

Azriel watches the subtle shifts in her expression - a twitch of her brow before they came together, the way her bottom lip moved as she bit the inside, and how her eyelashes fluttered across her cheeks like butterfly wings when she seemed to fall into her thoughts - and feels something stir inside of him.

Almost like being asleep for a long time and finally starting to wake up.

“Gathering intel, observing, and making sure that we know everything we can that goes on in other Courts,” his wings stretch outwards a little and her eyes roam over the movement, noting the scars that were littered across the membranes and she can’t help but be reminded of the horror back in Hybern, how he must of suffered in agony with no way to get out of it. “When I can’t be somewhere, I send the shadows and they bring back what they find.”

“Do you like doing all of that?”

“It keeps me busy.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

Azriel didn’t know what to say to that.

Everyone in the Inner Circle knew what he did and had to do, but no one had ever pursued the topic any further, having figured if he wanted to tell them, he would.

And here comes this little Fae, asking because she… what? Because she wanted to? The idea was ridiculous and yet, Azriel found himself unsure and it was disconcerting.

He takes a breath, weighing over his thoughts and debating on how to word what he wanted to say. “Sometimes it’s difficult. There are certain things,” flashes of Truth-Teller slicing into flesh, crimson dripping onto the floor, the sound of screams, and his jaw tightens. “That I have to do and a certain way of doing them that isn’t always my favorite.”

Ariadne tilts her head. There was a darkness swirling within the gold that wasn’t there before and it was clear that there was a lot more to it than that. She wanted to know what he had to do that would make him this haunted and she came to the conclusion that it must be awful, which didn’t sit well with her. Did no one bother to ask? Did no one bother to even try?

A part of her wanted to ask Azriel herself, but how in the stupid Cauldron was she supposed to do that? Would it be over-stepping? How should she say it? What if it made him angry? Or upset? She didn’t want to do that to him.

But she wanted to know.

There was something telling her that she needed to and it was yet another thing that she didn’t understand, so she decided to just go with it like she did everything else until she had the answers.

“There are certain things that I don’t like to remember either. Particularly how they made me feel,” Ariadne swallows, using the pad of her thumb to rub small circles into the back of her hand. “Everything else is heightened since I can’t hear in a normal way and that isn’t always a good thing,” she takes a deep breath, skin prickling. “It makes the pain worse.”

Her body shifts and she lifts her chin to find that Azriel’s shadows were whipping around his back and shoulders - movements a bit wilder than they usually were - with the tips refined into razor sharp points; they seemed ready to cause some serious damage and she wished she could smooth her hands over them, if only to calm.

“I do know if I leave it alone for too long, that it’ll be harder for me to deal with when the time comes,” her eyes trail along each obsidian tendril, noting that they were shaking, blurring slightly at the edges. “I’m not ready for it right now, but I’m hoping that one day I will be. Even if it hurts, I know it’s something I have to do,” she marvels at the way they flow through the air, like water down a stream, and a soft hum emits from her throat.

“I think it’s something we all have to do at some point,” Ariadne tears her eyes away from the shadows in search of that golden hue to find that Azriel was already looking at her. She inhales. “No matter if we hate it,” she exhales. “No matter if it isn’t our favorite.”

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

Azriel couldn’t remember the last time someone had stunned him into silence; as a matter of fact, he didn’t think it had ever happened before, which was a complete conundrum and left his mind in a scramble and it was the most unorthodox thing he had ever experienced.

How?

Why?

There was something about Ariadne that was different from her sisters, a secret locked away with a hidden key, and the Shadowsinger wanted to dive into every square inch of her mind until he knew everything that there was to know about her.

He already knew she was intuitive and witty, genuine, perceptive, curious - soft - and probably one of the most intelligent people he’d ever met, which he would be sure to keep from Rhys lest he fall into his usual flair for the dramatics.

But he wanted to know more.

Because as soon as Azriel thought he had a good grip on who he thought she was, the little thing slipped through his fingers and changed direction.

And now he couldn’t form words into a sentence that would make sense of what he wished to say to her, coming up short several times and beginning to get frustrated with the whole ordeal. He wanted to keep the line of communication open and have her presence so near to his, and it seemed that his desire for that was what was making his mind draw blanks.

If this were to happen with Rhys or Cass, he would’ve left the room by now.

Azriel quickly discovered that was the last thing he wanted to do where Ariadne was concerned.

So he stayed.

His shadows had settled and he marveled at the warmth of her honey-eyed gaze and the featherlight caress of her whisper, which seemed to be soothing them and causing their own anger to ebb away like the tide; it took him by surprise - he sensed a theme here - and he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

They were an extension of Azriel, every part of them intertwined with him, and no one had ever had such an influence before.

How is it possible? What does it mean? He didn’t have the answers and it made him want to question everything until he finally got them.

“That’s easier said than done,” is what he responds with, tone a bit gruffer than usual.

Ariadne’s expression shifts to a mixture of perplexity and mirth, the corners of her mouth twitching and she purses her lips. “I never said it would be easy, Shadowsinger. You have to put in the effort if you want the results.”

A single brow raises. “You seem to have all the answers.”

“Not hardly, but I can read people fairly well and I can tell that you’ve never considered it before.”

She was right. He hadn’t.

Azriel readjusts his position and leans forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees as the gold swirls around his irises. “You really aren’t afraid.”

Her brow mimics the action of his, the amusement still tugging at her lips, though she manages to keep it at bay. “Do I have a reason to be?”

He tracks the movement and finds himself wishing that she would show her smile, wanting to see how it changed her expression; if it would make her eyes light up as joy filtered through or if it would disappear quicker than a blink and have him eager for the day that he could stop, stare, and admire the beauty of it.

“No,” his wings unfurl to stretch and he stands, having made a decision to keep her in his orbit for just a while longer. “You might change your mind eventually, but we can revisit after.”

Confusion flashes across her face. “After what?”

“We’re going to have dinner. You have to eat, don’t you?”

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

This is bizarre, isn’t it? Ariadne stares at the notebook in her lap, quill poised between her fingers. All of this.

She had, in fact, had dinner with Azriel and she was still reeling a bit; the house had provided soup and sandwiches, along with her usual tea, and even a plate of lemon bars that she actually decided to try, which was a good idea because they were delicious. It was sour and sweet and citrusy, and it made her tongue tingle.

Azriel kept the conversation focused on her and it was strange. She didn’t know if there was a line for how much she was allowed to reveal considering she’d never had to worry about it before, so she tried to pull the detail back in her answers as much as she could, not wanting to overwhelm him or ramble or do anything to offend.

And that was the part that left her utterly confused; he seemed to be disappointed in what she said and it didn’t make sense because why?

Wasn’t polite conversation supposed to be light? Simple?

That’s what she had gathered from Elain over the years and it seemed to work just fine, so what was the problem?

It seems like a balancing act, Ariadne doodles a crescent moon into the top right corner and allows herself to work through it. You don’t want to tell too much because that would be an overload of information and no one wants that, she adds a couple stars. But you also don’t want to give too little because that would be boring and no one wants that either.

She writes her name in the center before boldening the ‘A.’

You need to give just enough so it stays flowing and keeps the interest there. See, a balancing act! Makes sense. It’s okay, you didn’t know. You’re learning, aren’t you? Don’t expect to be perfect the first time around. That isn’t realistic and you know it.

A drop of ink falls from the tip of the quill and soaks into the page, ruining the ‘A’ and she releases a huff as she shuts the notebook and sets it on the bedside table.

Today was a lot. That’s all. You need to try and sleep or at the very least, rest your eyes. Start again tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll feel better about everything then. Maybe. A little bit.

Ariadne leans against the headboard and stretches her legs out in front of her, wiggling her toes that were dressed in fuzzy socks and wishing more than anything that she knew the things she was missing. It was a hindrance and above all else, it was annoying.

Stop it. More has happened in the last three days than you’re used to and it’s impossible for you to go through it for the fifth time when you’re this tired.

She finally closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths, willing her thoughts to stop running wild so she’d be able to steal a couple hours before the nightmares came.

The questions, the shadow, the knowledge of Daemati and what she could now do, Nesta and Elain, Feyre, and everything else could wait.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ; @ashblooddragons , @rcarbo1 , @waytoomanyteenagefeels , @prettylittlewrites , @tele86 , @missxmarvelous , @herondale-lightworm .

[tinybitsubby]

****Disclaimer: this is not my list. (meaning I don’t like/prefer/agree with everything on it)

Several months ago I was down some rabbit hole and found a message board where someone had asked a question about having a D/s oriented vacation and people responded. I went to visit it recently and it doesn’t exist anymore. I had copied it to notes to send to the Hubz at one point and thought I’d share it here and see what you all think of it. Thoughts? Ideas? Copy and pasted below.

——————————

Someone asked a d/s chat room ideas to turn a romantic tropical vacation into a major D/s getaway for those exploring D/s.

1. Start off on the right foot. Spank her ass right before the flight or drive so it’s uncomfortable to sit during travel. Maybe tell her to sit still when she keeps shifting in her seat.

2. Tell her that unless thr public can hear, just for this trip she must always address you as sir. Punish forgetfulness.

3. Make her kneel every morning.

4. Objectify her by shoving a few fingers deep into her mouth a few times a day. Call her good girl and watch her gag for a minute then wipe her runny eyes and move on like nothing happened. My wife/sub says this type of brief degradation flips her mindset so fast. She hates it but loves the complicated emotional part.

5. Since the owiest part of anal is the initial insertion, tell her that she will be announcing every single time she’s about to get in the shower so he can come to the bathroom in a minute. When he comes in she must lube up her clean asshole and degrade herself by holding her own ass open for him. He will sink his dick all the way in and hold it there while she tells him a reason why she deserves to take his cock up her ass. If she can’t think of a good reason, the dick stays in until she does. Not fucking her, just staying in there stretching her open. Then he rinses off and leaves so she can shower. An uncomfortable size of dildo (not plug) can be used instead if he doesn’t like to get erections and then let them fade. I’m not into anal except for the very subby headspace it creates. It makes me feel so vulnerable and it’s kind of painful. We did this on a trip and it became a true exercise in submission as I got more and more sore. When he sat me down to tell me this would happen, it really set the tone for the trip. Don’t discount this idea. Also Halfway through the trip we had anal sex which is rare for us and it made every shower insertion after that more uncomfortable and really upped our D/s. Seriously, try it, especially if anal is really not her thing. She’ll feel like such a good sub. You want her to feel like a good sub for submitting in ways that are uncomfortable. Please try this! PS If she loves anal, don’t do this, hahaha. PPS. Since we got home he sometimes says tell me when you get in the shower next and I know this will happen and it reminds me of our trip when we solidified our DS.

6. Bring an implement she doesn’t like and tell her she must ask for 10 hard strokes every day by a certain time. Obviously No anger or lectures just checking it off the to-do list. If she forgets and the time passes, she gets 25 or more instead. You should know Tears are ok in the D/s dynamic. If you’re flying and don’t want to take implements then you always have a belt or a brush.

7. Spit in her mouth every time no one is looking

8. Let her know before you leave that even if she’s a very good girl, there will be tears twice on this trip to remind her of her submission. Make her ask for one of the times and surprise her with the other. You get to choose what makes her cry. Don’t overlook the power of this emotional release for a sub. This secretly also teaches her to ask for an emotional release when she feels it could be beneficial to her mental state or the relationship.

9. Tell her she cannot cum until the third day of the trip. Then have lots of sex the first two days.

10. If you are leaving town, make her dress like a total slut

11. Bruises man. Give her some really good butt bruises and then spend time every day, poking pinching and spanking them. It keeps her hyper aware of her place. A 1.5” dowel from hardware can give bruises in just a handful of strikes without chaffing the skin too much like stingy implements do because they take too many strikes to get a bruise.

12. Tell her that on this trip, if she has an alcoholic drink in her hand, there will also be a plug in her ass. No exceptions. Going to order a drink with lunch? Go plug that ass before we leave. For added fun, you pick the size each time. Alternatively, if that’s not possible, you could just tell her that whenever your dick is going in her pussy on this trip, there will also be a plug in her ass at the same time. Or alternate days.

13. She’s doesn’t get to orgasm on this trip.

14. Tell her she will kneel and suck your balls every time you change clothes. “Sorry, you have to come back to the room with me because I’m changing into my bathing suit.”

15. Make her stay naked every minute you’re alone.

16. Call her trashy names.

17. Whatever you want to do to Dom her, whatever your desire or fantasy is, do that. BUT, tell her in detail hours in advance. A sub’s brain goes haywire when told something like this. “Look at me. Tomorrow I’m going to spank you very hard and you’re going to hold very still. I’m going to cum when I’m done but how I cum is going to depend on how well you take your spanking. If you can stay still I’ll just sink into your cunt and that will be that. But if I have to keep telling you to get back into position or keep your feet down I’ll cum down your throat and if I have to wrestle you at all during your spanking, I’m fucking your ass and continuing to spank it.” Or just tell casually with a smile you know after dinner I’m going to fuck your face and slap it hard every time you need to pause to breathe. Etc.

18. I’m jealous. I want a D/s vacation! Just stuff holes all the time. Anytime you think of it, put your fingers, dick or toy into one of her holes for minute. Let her know her body will be invaded over and over on the trip multiple times a day and occasionally during the night. Make sure you tell her to expect it because then her mind will be on it all the time.

19. Flirt with other women and make her sit quietly and smile. Maybe kiss one.

20. Fig her. Especially if you can’t spank because of noise. At least 20 minutes, the heat doesn’t peak until 15. If you’re flying and can’t take ginger, China Gel on your thumb is almost as good.

21. Bind her and make her wait patiently while totally bored. If rope is a travel issue, take some medical tape.

22. Get her pregnant

23. Clothespins. Use them a lot. Is she sucking your dick, put them on her labia. Are you fucking her, put them on her nipples. Are you spanking her, put a row of several down the skin of her tummy or back on her labia. They keep her on edge and feeling subby. I’m not kidding try them because the ache when they are removed is like nothing else. If she’s sunning by the pool, maybe there’s one hidden somewhere for a while.

24. Just fucking Dom her, use the time to make your own D/s dreams come true. She wants you to take control.

25. Fuck man this list is great but maybe only pick a few.

26. Give her a daily writing assignment if you have relaxing time. Give her a question that is hard to talk about and demand honesty. Better yet, both of you share.

27. Tell her she can’t say no on this trip. Goes without saying, but respect hard limits.

28. Make her wear dresses with no panties. Pull it up every time no one is looking. Smack her pussy, or finger fuck her or sit back and admire. Just mix it up. Fuck her before you go somewhere so she has to feel jizz running down her legs.

29. Make her skip a meal now and then to watch you eat

30. Randomly tell her to head back to the room and masterbate to orgasm. Or to only get really close to it. Give her a time limit.

31. Choke her out. Maybe she wakes up in a compromising position.

32. If she’ll be wearing bathing suits, only spank or strap her on one side. She’ll be miserable with all the counts on only one side and if anything should show, it will just look like she took a tumble or something with a bruise or welt on just one side. It’s the symmetry that lets people know what’s up.

33. If there’s a need for a punishment spanking on the trip, do it in diaper position. It’s intense because you can see her face. Make sure you’re ready to handle seeing her face during a punishment as some Doms just can’t handle it.

34. Tell her you won’t be touching her vag once on the trip. Her other holes will be used as you see fit daily. You can put a binder clip on her labia to hold it closed to prove your point.

35. Carve a souvenir scar into her.

36. Tell anytime she wants to cum she’ll have to pick between two things she doesn’t like first. Get her close to orgasm so she’s really needy and then say I want you to come but first A or B. If she doesn’t pick in 10 seconds, she gets both then back to the orgasm.

37. Pick a window of time each day that she cannot speak

38. Tell her she must wake you up with her mouth every day.

39. Take medical gloves and do cold inspections of her. Make her feel like an object.

40. No eye contact for the trip.

41. Dude just tell her this trip will be rough. Rough sex, rough spanking, rough manhandling. Just make things challenging for her and then get through them together. That’s all we subs want. We want to endure a hard challenge for you and then be called a good girl for enduring it. You get to be the guy setting up whatever challenge turns you on AND be the support system when it’s emotional for her. That’s all of D/s!!!

42. Edge her. You can do it or she can, but lots of random edging to keep her needy all day.

43. Golden showers.

44. Make all decisions for her. Tell her when to get up, when to sleep, when to use the bathroom, what to wear, order her foodand drinks without consulting her. Tell her when sex is happening and what type. If it’s too much, just pick one day where she can’t make a decision.

45. If you’ve never slapped her face, start on this trip. Maybe just a couple times at first and then build up to several times in a row during some form of sex. Require eye contact. Let her tear up and let her go through the range of emotions. While looking at you and enduring it, let her feel your support, but then slap her again. As a submissive this is for real an emotional growth as a couple and can be meaningful. Talk to her about it the next day. Tell her she’s so good for taking it in and you’re going to slap her again soon.

46. Spank her very hard right before the trip so the little spankings here and there actually hurt quickly. Wipe tears and give hugs. This hard and soft feedback at the same time feeds a sub like you wouldn’t believe.

47. Don’t let her sleep in pajamas. Always nude. She’ll get used to it.

48. Force too much Alcohol/weed into her and then discuss both of your darkest fantasies.

49. Slap that pussy every chance you get. Keep it just a little sore.

[gars-weaponeer]

Ryloth 21 BBY “Dank farrik! The blaster is jammed!”  The clone at his side cried out as he began to hit at his DC-15 with his hand in a futile attempt to make it work again. “Where are your Pistols?!” The clone at his other side asked as he kept firing over their cover.

“Lost them three explosions ago!” The first clone commented again and Iellan cannot help but feel fear rising on his chest.

Separatist forces had overrun the Republic forces on this side of Ryloth and Iellan found himself trapped behind some rocks, accompanied by a couple of clones. Were there more clones around? He could not know, peeking out of the protection would mean losing his head and he wanted to keep it on for a while longer. If you asked him, he would not be able to explain how he got into that situation. The war was chaos as always, and he somehow ended up from providing ammo to the battalions near camp to his current predicament: far, far away from his post. Now one of the clones’ DC-15 blasters had jammed, which left them with only one rifle to defend themselves. Iellan himself only had ammo with him… which was useful, but that didn't change the fact that with only one blaster, chances of survival were slim. 

“Get it to work quick!” The firing clone insisted, while his brother kept hitting the blaster as if that would make it work. “I’m trying! Darn thing won't cooperate!” You know how to fix it... Iellan was not allowed to handle blasters in the battlefield only inside the camp, it was part of his parole. However, a desperate instinct kicked in and without a word he took the blaster from the clone’s hands and began to tinker with it. “HEY!” The clone complained. “Shhh!”  Iellan shushed him, trying to concentrate. What had his father said about DCs? He took out a small tool and began to scrape the residue out of the trigger area. Clones are required to maintain their own rifles, however after many long days of battle with no rest it was natural for blasters to become unresponsive. “The ammo boy just shushed me…” The clone said, looking at his brother in utter shock. “Well, you are kind of annoying when you run your mouth, Echo.” His companion shot back, concentrating all his efforts in keeping the marching droids at bay. 

Click, click, click. 

The tinkering sound matched the marching of the battle droids and Iellan could feel his heart beating faster. Try to remember… What came next?

Click, click, click. He tried to work as fast as he could, cleaning debris and fixing the dented parts that were causing trouble.

“What is he doing?” The one they called Echo asked out loud. “You are asking me? You are the one who keeps staring.” His brother says, ducking from some incoming fire to look over at Iellan. “Hey Ammo boy, what are you even doing? this is no time to pl--!” “Shhh!” It was hard to concentrate when both clones kept talking to him. “Heh, you got shushed again.” “Stow it, Fives!”

Iellan let out an exasperated grunt, taking his nearly empty bag of supplies and throwing it at Echo. “There are two grenades left there, use them wisely!”  He said, before diving back into fixing the damn blaster. Echo didn’t say anything, he simply nodded his head and took the grenades out, making sure to throw one over their heads at the swarm of droids. That would buy them a little bit more time.

But only a little. Iellan’s hands were almost trembling as he hurried his work. Almost there,  he just needed to press a bit harder and--

CLICK.

“DONE!” Iellan yelled, throwing the gun at Echo, who immediately began to fire again. “Hey, it is working!”

Now with a second blaster, things were starting to look up, but only a little. They were still two clones and one weaponless civilian against a seemingly never ending hoard of battle droids and Iellan had just passed the last cartridge to the one they called Fives. Fives? What an unusual name.

The sound of marching mechanical boots getting closer and closer we're starting to make Iellan panic. They were not going to make it. Iellan covered his chest with one hand as he tried to calm his breathing, closing his eyes tightly. He was not supposed to be showing fear, but he had never been at war before. This whole situation was way beyond his comfort zone, but it wasn’t as he could complain about it.  He only hoped death was mercifully quick and painless.

However, the sound of a LAAT overflying their heads caught his attention. Backup had arrived and not a moment too soon, several troops landed near their hiding spot and began to push back against the battle droids, reclaiming the area.

His two companions cheered in unison as the tide of war was changed and after giving their ammo boy-friend an excited, congratulatory pat on the shoulder they ran to meet with his fellow brothers. They were still filled with energy, ready for another battle. They didn’t even say goodbye.

Iellan on the other hand, just watched them leave. His legs were wobbly and refused to move from their place on the ground.

“There you are!”  Iellan looked up to be greeted with the familiar armor of Captain Rex. Finally a friendly face. “Captain.” Iellan made an attempt to salute, but he was glued to the rock. “We lost track of you a while back. Come on, We gotta take you back to camp for the ammo run.” Rex said, effortlessly helping Iellan to his feet, picking him up by the back of his cape and gently pushing him towards one of the LAATs.

Once settled inside, Iellan could take a breather for a moment as the LAAT rose above the canyon. He could see the troopers charging against the battledroids. He wondered about his two annoying companions. Would they be ok? or would their blasters jam again? Would they meet each other again?

With so many clones in the Grand Army of the Republic, it was unlikely they would, but Iellan couldn’t help but hope they might one day.

My entry for the CloneXoc week!

Featuring Iellan with Echo and Fives!!

I hope I can finish all the other pieces in time!

Taglist: @clonexocweek (If you wish to be added, please let me know.)

[eraenaa]

U.N.I. (College AU)

Aemond Targaryen x Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Where one of the sons of your mother’s estranged best friend attends the same university as you, and did I mention you were the reason why he lost his eye? 

Warnings: Mature +18, Stalking, Smoking, Semi-Public Sex

Word Count: 2930

You feel his stare again, but you look onward and focus on what your friend was saying. But still, the image of him in his leather jacket, staring at you, the way he held his cigarette and puffed out smoke from his thin lips, eye so openly closed on you— it was starting to unnerve you. A festering feeling spread through you that all you wanted to do was lay your gaze on him, something you swore you would not do. At least not so obviously. 

“He’s staring at you again,” Your friend sang, and you painted a confused look on your face. “Who?” You asked. Feigned cluelessness on your face. “Pirate boy,” they call him, and you always seem to scold them at their insensitive nickname. “Oh,” You said, but you never gave him a glance, even if you badly wanted to. “I’m telling you… you should approach him.” You shake your head and sigh. “I have to go— I have to study for a test,” You suddenly reasoned to change the subject. Your friends gave a nod as they puffed out smoke between their lips, bidding you farewell, and they shall meet you in the dining hall later. 

You walked through the halls fast; you always do. You just did not notice that another copied your steps. 

Aemond had been growing tired of your stubbornness. When he first saw you in the halls of your college, he was certain his eye had deceived him. But no, there you were, laughing carelessly with your friends. A beaming smile on your lips, eyes crinkling with joy. He sneered as you walked past him— completely disregarding him— completely forgetting about him. After that day, he was determined to catch your eyes, to make you look upon him again. Him, the boy you had maimed. 

You finally found a place to study in the library. Somewhere secluded, somewhere you would not be bothered. Staring hard at the reading you procrastinated to do, so now, you’re exhausting your mind as you tried to stuff it more with whatever was said by a dead scholar so many years before. You hunched over the bound book, trying hard to focus, but your eyes did not miss as a figure now stood before you. You cautiously looked up and were met with an indigo eye and frowned lips. “Is this seat taken?” His voice was velvety and cold. You quickly avoided his gaze, “Yes,” You said. “By whom?” He asked. “Me,” You replied. 

“You occupy two seats at the same time?” He asked. You were not looking at him, but you plainly heard the sneer in his voice. Your mouth opened and shut, mind searching for a response. “It is a simple question— yes or no?” He snapped, and you let out a harsh breath. “No,” You harshly bit on your lip as he took the seat across from you. Your knees brushed as he scooted closer to the table. You did not dare to look at him— something that he boldly did. 

Aemond watched you as your eyes were planted toward whatever book you were reading. His eye implored you to look upon him again. He enjoyed the look of surprise and panic in you. “Actually, I’m leaving.” You uttered lowly and quickly gathered your things. Passive and flighty when it came to him. Because guilt never sat well with you— and he was a great reminder of it. Aemond rolled his eye as you gathered your things. “So you can take my eye but cannot even sit across the man you have maimed?” You froze as the image of him as a boy, on the ground and clutching his face in pain, flashed through your mind. It had been years since the accident— an accident that was not entirely your fault, but you bore the guilt as if it were. You took a deep breath and stopped gathering your things. Eyes courageously set themselves upon the boy who smirked before you, enjoying the look of silent anger on your face. You quite had enough of fleeing and letting guilt consume you whole. 

Aemond hummed as you stayed and resumed your task. His eye observing you, his knees bouncing up and down under the table, brushing against yours. He missed you if he were being honest. You who had spent almost every single day with him since the two of you were born until you were both ten. Eight years spent apart. Eight years trying to pretend that neither existed and that neither missed the other.

You stayed there for hours, trying to read, and he stayed there for hours, watching you try to focus on your reading. You were genuinely clueless as to why he was doing such a thing. When you were finally done, you stood without uttering a single word. “Where are you going?” He asked with a raised brow. You debated if you should answer him. Why should you? But as your gaze went back to his, him who expected you to respond, you sighed. “Dinner.” You quietly muttered, and he gave a nod, standing as well. “You no longer talk much now, do you?” He asked as the both of you walked towards the dining hall. He knew the answer: you were oh so talkative when it came to your friends— a beaming smile always on your lips. A wheezing laugh would always find its way to you, but with him, you could barely speak two syllables. 

Aemond frowned as you gave no word. The boy sighed and pulled you towards an alcove. Shoving you forcefully against the curved wall, the hall was dark as it was dusk, and they had yet to turn on the lights. “Stop acting as if I had been the one to have wronged you,” He spat, eye-widening in anger. “You have wronged me!” You answered, trying to push him away as he encaged you with his body and the wall. “You were the one who has wronged me first! And you fully knew it was an accident!” You defended. Aemond clenched his jaw. “You were the one chasing me— running after me, trying to take revenge.” He gritted his teeth. “Because you were the one who took my knickers from my drawers! I was trying to get it from you. It was not my fault you tripped and maimed your eye on a rock!” You reasoned, your voice growing louder, catching other’s attention. “I had ceaselessly apologized— begged for your forgiveness for something that was not entirely my fault, but you had ignored me! You let them believe that it was entirely my fault!” 

Your ragged breathing mixed, your eyes closed on each other, your bodies flushed. You stared up at him with a glare. He stared down at you with a glare. The only thing that broke intense gazes was the sound of the dinner bell ringing. Sensibilities regained, and you pushed away your once closest friend. “That accident was years ago… let us just forget of it— let us just pretend that neither of us exist or know each other.” You sighed. “It is a large campus, Aemond. Surely we can avoid each other.” You proposed. He scoffed. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? Escaping, fleeing just like before,” He whispered. You froze as you realized his head was dipping down. “I shall be here constantly… everywhere you go, I shall follow, just to remind you how badly you have wronged me. You have taken from me— now it is my turn to take you.”  You frowned at what he uttered— a word missing from his statement. But you could not question him as he was quick to push himself away from your frame and walk away. 

Aemond stayed true to his word. Everywhere you turned, everywhere you looked, there he was. Him and his lingering indigo eye, him and his smirking pink lips. You sighed as you caught leather-clad arms once more. Take in a deep breath, cross your arms across your chest, and try to focus on the work of art in front of you. Trying to ignore the man who stood next to you, a bit too close for your liking. “Seriously? Even here?” You asked. You were hoping you would have some peace in the gallery, wanting to escape the thought of the papers you still had to write and the man whom you kept on trying to avoid. But whatever tactic you used to not let your paths cross seemed futile. He always found you. He always trailed you. 

Even at night— when you thought you were finally alone. His indigo eye followed you in sleep. Scenes that you will never utter— that you will never admit to bringing you pleasure in the dead of the night. The man who gave them to you in your dreams stood next to you, his eye finally not on you but upon the painting. “Do not flatter yourself, I came here for the paintings.” He quietly uttered. You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks as you gazed upon the side of his face. Aemond bit down his smirk as he saw an embarrassed blush rise to your cheeks. 

You let out a breath and mindlessly gave a nod, stepping away from Aemond. As being in his presence brought forth the dreams you had of him. The dreams where his lips were upon yours. Where his hands would explore your body, would tangle themselves in your hair, would grip your throat, would bring pleasure to your cunt. As you moved on to face a sculpture, the thought of Aemond only seemed to fester. You slyly cross your legs as you stand, regretting the decision to wear a skirt that day. 

Though Aemond said that he came to the gallery for the art, it was only partly true. He trailed you once more, following your scent that he had grown fond of over the days he would follow you. His eyes scanned your frame from behind. From the back of your head to the middle of your thighs where your skirt stopped. To your crossed legs where his gaze lingered. Aemond licked his lips and stood next to you once more. He would lie if he denied that he kept following you for the sole purpose of tormenting you for an accident that was only partially your fault. No, there was something else fueling him to keep on trailing you wherever you go. There was something else he wanted from you— and that something was not entirely revenge or justice. He simply wanted you. You were not the only one who had scenes of pleasure in the night. Aemond’s dreams of your lips, your taste, and your touch were a constant. Every single night as he drifted into slumber, the only thing in his mind was of you. Your lips upon his, your body flushed against his, your cunt clenching around him. 

Neither of you uttered a word. Your minds were filled with thoughts of desire, thoughts of need, and thoughts of sin. The air between the two of you was tense and growing warm. It did not matter that the air conditioner blared— it did not matter that it was autumn. The two of you who stood next to each other felt nothing but raging heat. 

You turned to your right, peaking a look at Aemond through your lashes. Aemond was quick to feel your gaze, turning to you. Indigo eye was dark and filled with something you could not decipher. No word was uttered, only needing bodies threading closer together until lips locked. You clung to him, pulling him close; his lips tasted of coffee and cigarettes. He smelled of citrus and spice. 

Aemond placed his hands on your ass, clutching hard the plump flesh. His tongue lapped against yours, tasting every part of you. Berries and mint on his tastebuds. The smell of peonies and peaches invaded him. “Aemond,” You called as your lips parted, both of you in need of air. You watch him shake his head and take hold of your arm. You let him drag you wherever; the only thing on your mind now was the lust you felt. The only thing on your mind was the want to kiss him again. Aemond pulled you towards an empty hall, an exhibit not yet open to the public. Your eyes scanned the room; paintings and sculptures that would intrigue her any other time bored your mind. All you wanted to do was drown in pleasure from the man who now began to place kisses on your neck. 

Your hand traveled down, cupping his hardened length through his trousers. A groan left his throat, eliciting even more wetness from your cunt. His hands undid the buttons of your shirt, forcefully yanking your brassiere down to reveal your tits to him, his mouth quickly closing in on the taut bud that hardened and pebbled because of his touch. “I need you,” You boldly uttered, not able to resist the tight need in your core. Your head tilted back; face pointed to the ceiling as he continued to nip and suck on your tit. Aemond smirked as your breast was still in his mouth; he felt you exchange your hand that cupped his length with your cunt, grinding upon his cock. You showing how truly in need you were. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked; you were quick to nod. A chuckle escaped him, a smirk rising to his lips as his hand trailed from your chest, venturing downward. Teasing you as his hand hovered over your dripping cunt. “Please,” You mumbled against his lips. “I thought you did not want my presence?” He teased, hand quickly grazing your cloth-bound cunt. “Please, Aemond… I need you— I want you.” You begged. That seemed to satisfy him. 

You whined as he moved you away from the wall he pushed you against. Dragging you deeper into the room. You were becoming crazed— desperate. You needed to feel released, and Aemond was taking his time to give it to you. You frowned as he placed you too, and upon a statute, confession took hold that you did not notice that he placed himself behind you. 

Your moan echoed through as his hand finally grasped your needing cunt, cold fingers met with the dripping wet heat that was for him. You hear him hum as his slender fingers run along through your folds. Desire mixed with your confusion as to why he placed you before the statue— man and woman of marble reaching for one another. Before you could ask him— before you could even utter another word, you heard the buckle of his belt hit the floor, his bare length pressed against your behind. He bundled your skirts up to your waist, and you could only wait in heavy anticipation for him to take you. 

His finger continued to draw circles upon your needing bud. His lips continued to torment the side of your neck, nipping and sucking, leaving his mark. You were ready to beg for him to give you more, no longer caring about how pathetic you were starting to sound. You could not utter your plea as Aemond, without any warning, bent you over and shoved his cock inside you. A squeal left your lips as pain mixed with pleasure. One of his hands continued to draw circles upon your cunt while the other found your neck. Grip tight, filled with pleasure. 

Aemond was merciless as he pounded at you from behind. Not caring that your slapping skin echoed through the room, not caring that you were spewing moans that rang in the halls. All he focused on was the feel of you, tightening and clenching upon his length. Warm and wet, needing and screaming for his name. You felt tears spill from the corner of your eyes as you were overwhelmed with pleasure. You turned your eye upward, gazing at the statue before you. Letting the man behind fuck you roughly. “Harder,” You asked, and that only made his desire grow. His hand on your neck tightened, and his fingers drawing circles grew faster. His length pushed deeper until you felt blood and both of your essences run down your thigh. 

Your surroundings were growing dark; the only thing you could see now was the statue of Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss. Your mind could not comprehend or think as to why Aemond chose that particular sculpture for you to look against as he fucked you. All your mind thought of now was how close you were to climax. Aemond let out a growl as you clenched painfully around him. “Aemond,” You called. And he moved your bent frame to lean against his chest. “Aemond,” You called once more. His lips found yours, nipping at your lower lip that cause a rush to go to your already peaking cunt. “Come for me.” He ordered. His hand moved from your neck to your breast to pinch the taut bud. “Aemond!” you called for the third time. Waves of pleasure hit the shore as you came undone in his arms— on his cock. 

Aemond let out a groan with his last thrust, his seed filling you but quick to run down your thighs. “I have told you that I will take you.” He whispered and nipped your ear. You could only let out a stuttered sigh and hoped that he would do it once more.

[itsabouttimex2]

Would this platonic yandere let you leave?

Explanations below/Click photo for higher res

DBK and PIF simply don’t see any reason to let you leave. If you want something, they can just have a bull mech get it for you. Besides, why would you want to go anywhere? You have your adoring and powerful parents right beside you. There’s no need to leave their side.

Chang’e might seem poorly placed, but she lives on the moon. It’s not that she wants to keep you locked away or isolated, but she genuinely cannot let you go anywhere. Hers is out of necessity, not choice. To be fair, you get to explore the whole moon and can even visit her factories, you aren’t locked in a tiny room or anything.

———————————————————————

Wukong, as long as you have some kind of fighting skill, will let you venture into the city of Megapolis. He’ll fly you there on his cloud and “drop you off” before using the 72 Transformations to follow close behind you, ensuring that no dangers draw near. If you catch him, he’ll very unconvincingly write it off. “Stalking you? Pshaaaw! Naw, what gave you that idea? I just came here to, uh, buy some stuff!”

Macaque will tail you from the shadows. There’s not much to say. He’ll drag you into the darkness with him if he senses any danger, and chuckle when you get angry about being followed. Expect something like: “I’m just looking out for you, kid. You should be grateful, really.”

Huntsman takes pride in his fighting, tracking, and hunting skills, and following after you is just a non-lethal combo of the last two. His ego swells with each step he takes, just out of your sight. And if anyone tries to hurt you… those skills will go back to being lethal very quickly.

Peng will watch you from the skies, keeping a close eye out for you, ensuring that you both keep out of trouble and behave appropriately. If the need arises, they’ll swoop down and interfere. Most likely, it’s to ward away a troublemaker. Though, they’ll be very proud if you defend yourself. Their little nestling, growing up too fast.

———————————————————————

MK wants to go where you go! If it’s somewhere loud and exciting, all the better! Even if you intend to head somewhere less his style, like a library, he’ll still hook his arm around yours and follow you along. (He’ll enjoy that trip a lot more if you read out loud to him.) Don’t think you can just up and ditch him, either. He’ll use his Gold Vision to pinpoint your location immediately, and race off to join up with you again. From there on, he’ll make sure to keep a tight grip on you, ensuring that you won’t get “lost” again.

Azure Lion fancies himself your defender and guardian, and hates the thought of you being unhappy nearly as much as he hates the thought of you getting hurt. He tries to be reasonable and fair with you, which includes letting you leave whatever serves as your shared dwellings. Only when he’s beside you, of course. He trusts himself to strike down any threat to your well-being, and has the power to follow through on that promise.

Ne Zha has lived through many fights and battles, and understands that danger can come from even the most unsuspecting of places. With this in mind, he’ll accompany you to wherever you wish to go, surveying the surrounding area as he walks with you. And he will be bringing his spear. He’d honestly rather not use it, but he’s playing it safe. Woe to any security guard who tries to separate it from him.

———————————————————————

Mei canonically has trackers on all her friends. This is not something she sees as a breach of privacy or overstep of personal boundaries. It’s just something everyone wrote off when they learned about it. So if anyone finds out or you try to tell one of your friends, they’ll probably just shrug it off as “classic Mei” and move on with their day.

Red Son is not a fool, thank you very much! He knows that tailing you everywhere you go will only upset and drive you away (he learned that the hard way), and that he can only tag along so many times before it gets suspicious that he always shows up right when you’re about to do something or go somewhere (learned that the hard way too). So he decides to slap a tracker onto your phone and call it a day, like there’s nothing wrong with that. Since the tracker isn’t discreet at all, you’ll pop it off and throw it away. Expect him to get start getting creative after that. (He just goes to ask Mei for help.)

Syntax is a practical and rational man. He knows that stuffing you away inside will only breed resentment, but that letting you roam freely runs the risk of you escaping from his grasp. Wiring a tracker to the inside of your phone solves both problems. He’ll also hack into the camera so he’ll always be able to see what you’re doing. You’re granted free reign to wander and explore as you please (within the bounds of the city) all while under his careful surveillance.

———————————————————————

Pigsy just wants you to be responsible, really. As the de-facto father figure in your life (in his own eyes), he needs you to be honest and forth-coming with him, please. If you just tell him the specifics of your outings, he won’t argue or complain, and it saves you one hell of a lecture. He might try to warn you away from something or someone he personally thinks of as shady or dubious, and if you don’t listen, he’ll tag along personally. If he’s too busy for that, expect him to send MK with you instead. And MK will spill each and every detail when asked, so you’d best not do anything reckless or dangerous.

Sandy is a kind man, even with obsession plaguing his heart. He wants the best for you, with every fiber of his being. The absolute worst this man would ever do is grind a few sleeping pills into your tea. Genuinely, he would go no further. He wouldn’t dream of disrespecting your personal autonomy. He just asks you very sweetly to let him know what you’ll be doing. If you get tired or upset or hungry, call him! He’ll come pick you up! Stay safe and text him when you get there! He’ll always look out for you. No matter what.

Tang isn’t really the sort to brute force his way through life. He’ll gently nudge and pester you into maybe downloading a location-tracing app, even offering to get it for himself as well. “It’s the only thing that can put my fragile heart as ease”, he’ll tell you, dramatically holding a hand to his hand as he sighs. He’ll wear away at your resolve until you finally buckle and download the damn thing. To be fair to you, he’ll also download it and see if he can’t get a few of the others to do the same. It’ll be less suspicious if he phrased it as “we all do dangerous things very frequently, and should be looking out for each other”.

Yellowtusk is a rational and composed man. If you act maturely and responsibly, he’ll lighten up on certain restrictions he has set in place for you. If you’re headed somewhere new he’ll come with you to make sure you don’t get lost, though. Being rational doesn’t make he doesn’t worry, after all.

———————————————————————

Tang Sanzang despises the idea of restricting your freedoms, and wouldn’t dare disrespect you by saying that you aren’t capable of caring for yourself. He’ll happily see you off for the day, and then take a few minutes to pray for you and your safety. Be wary, though- if you aren’t back by the end of the day, he’ll gather up his fellow pilgrims and set out to find you. Getting away from him is easy enough. Getting away from the demons that loyally follow him, who are happy to drag you right back to his side? There’s just no chance.

Ao Lie probably sits in front of the door and waits for you to get back haphazardly packs you a bag of supplies to take with you, even if you’ll only be going to a nearby merchant’s store. He’ll be sure to tell you that “It’s only a days worth, you know! So be sure to come back soon, please!” He, much like the monk who rides on his back, genuinely trusts and respects you. He isn’t going to follow you from afar, or browbeat you into bringing him along. He’ll just wait. And wait. And he’ll keep waiting until night falls, at which point he’ll inform Tang Sanzang that he’s going out to look for you, to make sure that you’ll be okay. Once again, all the pilgrims will come to look for you, realizing that he’s actually pretty worried.

[shadowqueenjude]

I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS ELAIN DAY UNTIL NOW SO HERE IS A LITTLE SOMETHING I JUST WROTE:

Smile, Elain. They won’t like you if you’re cold.

Elain blew out a long hard breath through her mouth as their mother’s words came back to her. Moira Archeron had never had much time for her, always busy doting on her eldest. This had left Elain to run into her father’s arms, who had been more than happy to indulge her. Alwyn Archeron had never received much love from his first-born, too pre-occupied with their mother and grandmother as she had been, so Elain seeking parental love in him was a pleasant surprise.

While Elain knew how demanding Moira could be, at least she was invested in Nesta’s success. At least she believed in her, guided her, hoped she would be something. When it came to Elain, her advice was minimal; she mostly stuffed Elain into pretty, suffocating dresses, pulled her hair up tightly into a bun, and hissed at her to smile. Elain very much felt like a prize horse on display.

“Do you think I will marry well, Mama?” Elain had once asked. Moira had merely looked down at her, those eyes- the same eyes as Nesta- frigid as the winter snow. “Of course, Elain. You have a fine face and build, and you have grace. Some man ought to take a fancy to you.” She made a face. “The same cannot be said for your wild sister, I’m afraid.”

Feyre. She had always been the black sheep of the family. She had always been a little too wild, a little too free for their mother’s taste. While Moira put minimal effort for Elain, there was no attention given to Feyre. Elain tried to help her. She would brush her hair and put it into braids and make sure she wore her corset, and when she could, Elain tried to play with her. One time, Elain fell and twisted her ankle while trying to climb a tree with Feyre. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to try and climb in a dress, but she owned no pants unlike Feyre.

Mother had been absolutely furious; though surprisingly not at her, but rather at Feyre for “dragging her into this.” It was as if Moira didn’t view Elain as capable of making her own decisions.

Well, not much has changed, then, Elain thought bitterly to herself.

Graysen had been the only one to see her. He’d told her that her kindness was the most beautiful thing about her, not her face or her body. Elain had fallen hard and fast. It all ended bitterly when Elain was thrown into that cauldron. But now, looking back on it, Elain wondered if she had simply latched onto the first person to see her for more than just a pretty face.

As these thoughts ran through her mind, Elain sighed once more. She hadn’t had much luck here in the Night Court either. They loved Feyre and although they disliked and lacked trust for Nesta, they still respected and valued her more than Elain. They had sicced a couple of wraiths to spy on her like some kind of toddler in need of monitoring. Rather than call them out on it (Elain didn’t see the point in arguing with people who could kill her), she had simply won them over with her charm, turning Nuala and Cerridwen to her side. Although the beginning of their friendship was strange, eventually they became true friends.

But although Elain enjoyed their company, they were not reason enough to stay in this place. She would never have a place here. And much as she had been avoiding him, there was only one person who could get her out of here.

Elain closed her eyes to calm her body. Just being near her mate drew out feelings she wanted to hide away forever. It was cowardly of her, but Elain didn’t want to face it: how very much faerie she was now, how much of her humanness had been lost.

How much he affected her.

He drove her mad simply by being in the same room. She was afraid he could read her every desire on her face, or feel it with his faerie senses. She wondered if he had sensed it the nights when she’d woken up from a very scandalous dream of the two of them together.

A lady mustn’t have these thoughts.

It wasn’t as if Elain was unfamiliar with the marital act. She had performed it, even if it was just once. Graysen had insisted, begging and pleading her, and Elain, convinced they would be married soon and swept up by the romance of it all, had obliged. It was only afterwards that Elain felt dirty, felt wrong, an overwhelming sense of guilt overtaking her. She should not have let Graysen push her into it. It was the first and last time she had raised her voice on him.

“You have taken my purity from me!” Elain had shrieked, beyond hysterical. Tears were heavy down her face, and she knew she had to be red. Graysen, to his credit, looked abashed, but it was all too little too late.

“Elain-“

“I did not enjoy it,” she whispered. Her voice broke. “That was not how I imagined it would be.”

He had been too rough, too impatient, and he had only lasted about a minute or two. Elain knew little about sex, but even she knew that it ought not to be like that.

“You…did not enjoy it?” Graysen asked hesitantly.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?!!!” Elain snarled. “Not the way you have violated me?”

“I did not violate you-“

“YOU INSISTED THAT I DO THIS BEFORE MARRIAGE! I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”

Elain had run away, run to the one person who she knew would protect her at all costs, the person who had been more a mother to her than her actual mother.

“Nessie,” Elain had sobbed. Nesta’s sharp blue eyes had widened in concern at Elain’s words. She immediately rushed over to her, grasping her shoulders. “Elain! Are you alright?”

She shook her head, pressing her forehead against Nesta’s shoulder. Nesta wrapped her arm around her, rubbing soothing circles against her back. “Want to talk about it?”

Elain took shuddering breaths, trying to calm herself enough to explain. “Graysen-I-we-“ Another breath. “I let him take my maidenhood.”

Nesta’s other hand moved to stroke Elain’s hair. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Nothing else needed to be said.

That night, Nesta read her stories until Elain’s eyes became heavy and she fell asleep. They slept together on the same bed for the first time since the cottage. Although Elain typically liked her space while sleeping, she had to admit that she had missed this: the closeness, the easy comfort of sisterhood.

And now Nesta wanted nothing to do with her.

Elain clenched her fists. Moira Archeron would be shocked to see it, but she wasn’t alive to scold Elain. Elain had spent far too long being afraid to be angry, for fear of upsetting someone. But she was a sentient being, was she not? Was she not allowed to get angry, same as Feyre and Nesta?

Was she not allowed to feel desire, the same as Feyre with Rhysand or Nesta with Cassian?

When would she be allowed to live?

It was a long shot, but Elain knocked on the door to Lucien’s Velaris residence. He spent little time here, but Elain hoped he would be here this time.

To her relief, the door swung open a few moments later.

“Elain?” The surprise in Lucien’s handsome face quickly molded into something like…was that nervousness? He bowed low to her. “How may I be of service today, m’lady?”

Elain waved him off. “No need to be so formal, Lucien. I just have a request.”

His metal eye whirred as his brown eye studied her intently. “Anything.” And Elain knew he meant it.

“I want to explore the rest of Prythian and the continent.”

If Lucien was surprised at her request, he certainly did not show it. He merely opened the door a little wider, giving her room to enter his home. “Of course,” he replied. “When I leave tomorrow morning, you are welcome to come with me.”

Elain smiled in relief as she looked around his house. It was incredibly tasteful, mostly decorated in the colors orange, green, and blue. It was so much brighter than the interior of Rhysand’s palace, and far prettier too. She delicately settled down on the suede couch on one end of the living room, her heart buzzing with anticipation as she realized she would be leaving this place tomorrow.

@elainweekofficial

[weewookinard]

Pardon my french!

BuckTommy Positivity Week 2024 - day one

I know i'm late to the party but @searching-for-the-moon gave me a great idea so here we are. You can learn more about this challenge through @bucktommypositivityweek's blog!

Prompt: what they love most about each other

You can read it on AO3 or down below. Every fic will be posted on AO3 as chapters of the same fic!

-----

“Okay, I’m impressed now. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Tommy looks at Evan who is wearing the prettiest smile he’s ever seen, a happy grin of his own gently warming up his face as they leave the gallery where they spent two hours learning pottery. In the bag Evan is carrying lays a strange attempt of a mug, base not quite flat and edges all wrong and messy. The mug is yellow, painted with care and patience. Which weren’t enough to ensure a great result. Against the mug, two bowls are wrapped in newspaper sheets. They are bright blue with white flowers, both perfect shapes, both delicately painted. Both the work of a Tommy who cannot stop smiling while his boyfriend continues to compliment him. It is endearing, the way Evan talks and talks and talk, always eager to let Tommy knows how much he’s impressed by anything new he learns about him.

“I swear Evan, it was the first time I did pottery.”

“Not the first time you painted though, so it’s almost like you cheated.” The blond can’t stop his smile from widening again, and his free hand quickly finds itself in Tommy’s one. They walk together like that for a while, heading to Evan’s loft just four blocks away from the gallery where the class was happening.

“It is so infuriating, you are always good at everything you try, how is that possible?” He continues, not paying attention to the world around him, and Tommy has to pull him fast by the hand before Evan bumps into a trash can. The movement coax Evan in Tommy’s direction, and soon enough the two men are against each other, chests touching and the older man’s arms around Evan’s waist, a gesture his body cannot stop doing when his boyfriend is close enough. It does nothing but push another bright smile on Evan’s face and Tommy must kiss him about it.

He knows his boyfriend clumsiness and unawareness of what surrounds him should bug him, but he can’t stop thinking it makes the other man even more adorable, if it is humanly possible. Evan is living in a world of his own, and for six months now he’s been okay with letting Tommy be a part of it.

Tommy loves him for that. He loves him for pretty much everything Evan does or says.

“I’m not good at everything!” He interjects, a laugh on his voice when they start walking again and Evan gives him a deadpan look, almost bumping into another human being.

“Shut up, I’m sure you can do crazy things. Like, I don’t know, French braid! Or macarons, which is so fucking hard to do right, by the way. Hell, I am sure you know how to speak French while we’re at it!"

Evan had started hyperfixating on everything French related since the opening of the Paris Olympics. “They had a dancing croissant; can you believe it? And the torchbearer? I’ve never seen somebody this hot, except you of course. If I hadn’t discovered my bisexuality with you, this person would have done the trick just fine.”

He then proceeded to explain to Tommy what the French torchbearer had been about, some reference to video games as well as opera. “Did you know Assassin’s Creed was French? And so are the Minions! And The Daft Punk! Even the helicopter was invented by the French!”

So, Evan talking about macarons and French braid isn’t that weird.

The thing is, Tommy’s answer is a surprise so unexpected that Evan’s jaw drop when his boyfriend respond. “Oh no, you don’t want me near long haired heads, and I’m not really good at macarons, I’m more of a waffle guy anyway. French though-”

Evan stops him before he can say anything else.

“Thomas Kinard, do not tell me you know how to speak French.”

Tommy’s amused face must be a good enough answer because Evan’s stops right here, in the middle of the sidewalk, starstruck. “Do you speak French?”

« Un petit peu, je ne me suis pas entrainé depuis longtemps. »

Evan does not know what it means, he doesn’t even know if Tommy said it right or if he just invented words to play with him. But it doesn't matter anyway, he’s too flabbergasted to care.

“What. The. Fuck.” He manages to say after way to long of a pause, proof that his brain just stopped working. It makes Tommy giggle, and the pilot brings his boyfriend hand to his lips and places a kiss on each one of his fingers.

“Tout va bien ?” He then asks, knowing full well what the words cause in Evan’s head.

Chaos, pure unexpected, hot as fuck chaos.

“What. Why. How. What. Fuck, how?” The younger man is clearly losing it and Tommy knows there is only one way to soothe his lover’s brain. So he takes a step forward, Evan’s free hand still in his, his other hand cupping Evan’s face, and proceed to kiss his boyfriend slowly, almost lazy, a hint of defiance in every one of his movements. Usually Evan melts on the touch, but this time he finds the strength to back-up, well, not before he moans in Tommy’s lips and kiss him back anyway.

“I’ll still need answers Kinard.”

“Let’s go home first, and then maybe I’ll give you some.” Tommy replies, a knowing smile on his face, pupils darkening with the promise of giving.

-----

“So, how?”

They both lay in Evan’s bed, sweaty and sore and happy. The bag with their dishes inside has been abandoned on the diner table, and their clothes have been thrown in every part of the loft without any care.

Tommy thinks about his answer for a moment, before he turns his head toward Evan, looking at him with a mix of tenderness and guilt. “I… I dated a guy. It was a long time ago, but the words stayed.” It is all he his able to say before he looks away, worried that Evan might get jealous, or sad, or something. Instead, Evan puts his hand on Tommy’s chest, playing with the hairy skin, and looks at him with fondness.

“You know, you don’t have to be ashamed of your past Tommy. I have exes too.” He says, trying to comfort the older man, a bright smile even in his voice. His tone is reassuring, and Tommy finally looks back at him with a sheepish glance.

“I know, it’s just… It has always been a thing with my other exes, you know? French is romantic, French is the language of love and, well, a lot of the men I dated weren’t happy that I had learned it for someone else you know?”

Evan nods, still admiring his boyfriend, caressing his perfect body.

“Is it why you hadn’t told me about it yet?” Tommy hums and Evan drops a kiss on his cheek, a touch so intimate the pilot still can’t quite believe he deserves it. “Well, I’m not jealous, and I’m not angry. I love that you give one hundred percent when you love someone, and that you are capable of learning a whole language just for them.” He smiles again, shifting his body so he’s almost completely on top of Tommy. “And it would be really stupid of me to be mad because you can speak French to me. It’s so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I love it! I love you Tommy, and every moment that made you you. The good and the bad.” Tommy smiles disappear when Evan come and kiss him, a deep, heated kiss. In his lips Tommy swears he can taste love. “But what I love most is that I’m getting used to all those little things I learn about you. I want to be used to everything about you for ever.”

“Sounds good to me.”

-----

translation: 

- A little bit, i've not trained for a long time.

- Is everything okay?

[likeadevils]

Speak Now Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on Speak Now in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also added a few other songs she wrote while writing Speak Now and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process.

If you don't want to read all that, check out this playlist of the album in order or this playlist of her entire discography.

Due to a surprising amount of digital decay and her life not being highly documented yet, exact dates are bit harder to come by then they are with following albums, but you can still find a few! I’ve added this color coded scale of how sure I am of the date: 

Confirmed: There is some type of official source for the date

Inferring: Nobody has officially said “This is when we wrote it,” but everything points to that date

Speculation: This date is based off pure vibes and guesswork and is highly likely to change.

Unknown: All that is known is the year (from the US Copyright Offices)

More notes: I will probably be editing it as information about vault songs and new details about old songs get come out, so it probably won’t be finished until July, so check back in with this post and/or follow me if you want updates. Most tweet dates come from crawling through the wayback machine, but if you want further sourcing, feel free me an ask/dm.

Without further ado...

Sparks Fly: Late 2006 (Inferring)

Taylor opened up for Jake Owen on October 31, 2006 In Portland, Oregon (the secret message for the song), and wrote Sparks Fly about the experience shortly after. I’ve seen a few second hand sources say she wrote it on the airplane ride back to Nashville later that same night, but I can’t find Taylor herself saying that, so it might just be an old fandom legend, or the source has been lost to digital decay, or I just haven’t looked hard enough. She first performs the song in May 29, 2007.

Haunted: 2009 (Unknown)

Taylor: "Haunted" is about the moment that you realize the person you're in love with is drifting and fading fast. And you don't know what to do, but in that period of time, in that phase of love, where it's fading out, time moves so slowly. Everything hinges on what that last text message said, and you're realizing that he's kind of falling out of love. That's a really heartbreaking and tragic thing to go through, because the whole time you're trying to tell yourself it's not happening. I went through this, and I ended up waking up in the middle of the night and writing this song about it.

February 17, 2009: Tweets "It's 3:58 am in London.. And I accidentally fell asleep at 6:30 pm, so now I'm wide awake and have no idea what to do. Write a song?"

It’s possible that this was what Taylor was referring to when she said she “ended up waking up in the middle of the night and writing [Haunted]”, but it’s also very possible that Taylor didn’t write a song on February 17, and waking up in the middle of the night and writing a song is not a rare occurrence in Taylor’s life, so one tweet doesn’t really prove anything.

March 13, 2009: Tweets "A day off in Sydney. Drove two hours out of the city and spent the day on the beach. Wrote a chorus you'll hear on the next record. :)"

Pure speculation, but I think she was working on Mr. Perfectly Fine. It was created in 2009, and in my opinion, of the possible songs it has the most notable chorus.

March 19, 2009: Posts on Myspace “I’m wiped out. I’ve been in the studio all day ( I know, I know.. We JUST put out a new album. I think I have a problem, I cannot stop writing songs.) It’s so much fun knowing that you can take your time, because you have like a year and a half to make something you’re really proud of. I love recording a few songs, waiting a few months, recording a few more.. Instead of devoting a few weeks to “record the album” and then it’s just done. I like dragging it out, that way you can be meticulous about every detail. Daydream about different ways to put the songs together, and then take them apart. I’m pretty obsessed with the whole process. So needless to say, it was good to be back in the studio with my redheaded producer who I missed terribly.”

If This Was A Movie: April 2009 (Inferring)

Taylor has literally never talked about this song, but April would be six months after and Joe Jonas broke up in late September/early October 2008.

April 24, 2009: Taylor plays in Jonesboro, Arkansas, and possibly writes a song: "I'd get my best ideas at 3:00 AM in Arkansas, and didn't have a co-writer around and I'd just finish it. And that would happen again in New York [likely Enchanted], that would happen again in Boston [likely Long Live], that would happen again in Nashville." (x)

May 23, 2009: Taylor records Half Of My Heart with John Mayer

On March 1, 2009: John Mayer tweeted: “Waking up to this song idea that won’t leave my head. 3 days straight now. That means it’s good enough to finish. It’s called Half of My Heart and I want to sing it with Taylor Swift. She would make a killer Stevie Nicks in contrast to my Tom Petty of a song.” On May 23, John Mayer tweeted "I couldn't get Taylor Swift on my record so I found the world's greatest impersonator, Laura Jacksheimer" with a picture of Taylor.

Superman: Spring 2009 (Speculation)

This could have been written any time in 2009, but due to it's general sound and the following quote, I’d guess it was written sometime in spring, when her and John Mayer first started working together. Taylor: “This was a guy that I was sort of enamored with, as usual. This song got its title by something that I just kinda said randomly in conversation. He walked out of the room, I looked over at one of my friends and said, ‘Man, It’s just like watching Superman fly away.’”

May 29, 2009: Posts on Myspace “Tomorrow, after the performance on the Today show, I’ll fly back to Nashville and record a lot of new songs I’ve written in the last few weeks. I’m really excited about that.” (She also posts "Tonight I went shopping at Top Shop in New York with the band. I got purple shoes. I’m really excited about the purple shoes, and I just needed to tell someone. I got purple shoes. Ok. That’s done." Which. If I had a nickel for everytime Taylor teased her new album by posting about shoe colors I'd have two nickels, which isnt a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.)

June 4, 2009: Posts on Facebook "In the studio. I don't know whose computer I'm using. Pssh.. Such a rebel right now.."

June 9, 2009: Tweets (about recording Thug Story) "If I said I was in the studio with T-Pain, would you believe me?"

Better Than Revenge and Let’s Go (Battle): June 2009 (Inferring)

These were probably written sometime between June 12, when the Jonas Brothers released “Much Better”, and July 1, when Taylor posted on Myspace: “What else is new.. Recording a bunch of new songs. Lots of new things to write about…..”

Last Kiss: 2009 (Unknown)

Taylor: "The song "Last Kiss" is sort of like a letter to somebody. You say all of these desperate, hopeless feelings that you have after a breakup. Going through a breakup you feel all of these different things. You feel anger, and you feel confusion, and frustration. Then there is the absolute sadness. The sadness of losing this person, losing all the memories, and the hopes you had for the future. There are times when you have this moment of truth where you just admit to yourself that you miss all these things. When I was in one of those moments I wrote this song."

July 22, 2009: Tweets "Hanging with my producer Nathan, discussing the next adventure" and then in a separate tweet "...album #3."

August 25, 2009: An interview with Nick Buda, Taylor's go-to drummer, is posted and he says: "Sitting here in Blackbird right now in the process of starting Taylor Swift's new record I guess. We've been here the last couple days and we're here today again." Throughout the interview, you can hear If This Was A Movie playing in the background. (Thank you to @taylor-on-your-dash for finding the interview!)

Never Grow Up: Fall 2009 (Speculation)

Lover Diary Nathan Chapman: "The song 'Never Grow Up' is just she singing and I on acoustic guitar. We recorded ourselves live. That song probably happened in two hours." This could’ve been written at any time in 2009, but I put it here because she bought her Nashville apartment sometime before October.

September 8, 2009: Tweeted "Last night in nash before heading out tomorrow for 4 shows, then VMA's. But right now I can't put the guitar down."

September 13, 2009: VMAs Incident

Enchanted: September 15, 2009 (Confirmed)

On September 15, Taylor attended an Owl City Concert in New York Taylor: "It was about this guy that I met in New York City, and I had talked to him on email or something before, but I had never met him. And meeting him, it was this overwhelming feeling of: I really hope that you're not in love with somebody. And the whole entire way home, I remember the glittery New York City buildings passing by, and then just sitting there thinking, am I ever going to talk to this person again? And that pining away for a romance that may never even happen, but all you have is this hope that it could, and the fear that it never will. I started writing that in the hotel room when I got back. Because it just was this positive, wistful feeling of: I hope you understand just how much I loved meeting you. I hope that you know that meeting you was not something that I took lightly, or just in passing. And I think my favorite part of that song is the part where, in the bridge, it goes to sort of a stream of consciousness of ‘Please don't be in love with someone else/Please don't have somebody waiting on you.' Because at that moment, that's exactly what my thoughts were. And it feels good to write exactly what your thoughts were in a certain moment.”

September 26, 2009: Taylor plays in Little Rock, Arkansas, and possibly writes a song: "I'd get my best ideas at 3:00 AM in Arkansas, and didn't have a co-writer around and I'd just finish it. And that would happen again in New York [Enchanted & Back To December], that would happen again in Boston [Long Live], that would happen again in Nashville." (x)

October 17, 2009: Tweets "Travis: you look so out of it. Me: I'm writing a song in my head. Travis: oh, I apologize. I didn't realize you were working."

November 19, 2009: Bob Lefsitz (the guy from Mean) publishes his impromptu interview with Taylor:

Taylor laughed.  Said she could handle being criticized for having a bad voice, for missing notes. But she couldn’t live with being criticized for being inauthentic. Those songs are written in real time. About real people. Her cowriters edit more than contribute. Her next album she’s not planning to write with anyone. Not now, anyway.

November 30, 2009: Tweets "If I had a dime for every time my producer and I blurt out the same thing at the same time, followed by an awkward, uncoordinated high five..."

Ours: December 6, 2009 (Inferring)

Myspace Post on December 6: “I just got back to Nashville this morning after being in LA all week. Today I was out and about and in the studio all day” Taylor: "I wrote this when I was about to turn 20. I was in a relationship I knew people wouldn't approve of, and it was just a matter of time before everyone found out. When you're first getting to know someone, it's a fragile time, and then you add newspapers and magazine covers and it can get kind of rough. I wanted to have this song to play for him when it got difficult. Singing it for him was one of the sweetest moments I can remember."

December 22, 2009: Tweets "I was writing a song and my pen fell into the piano. Still trying to figure out if I should do anything about this."

January 2010: Starts polishing up the demos made in 2009 into fully produced tracks

Billboard: "Swift and Chapman had begun recording new songs almost as soon as "Fearless" was released. The two cut demos in his basement studio and would only take those songs to larger facilities once they felt they had an emotional foundation in the basic tracks. Still, it wasn’t until early 2010 when the album truly began to coalesce." Nathan Chapman: "We stripped it down and made the demos first. Taylor came to my studio and I played all the instruments on the demos, and because I have a good vocal booth, her demo vocals ended up being the vocals you hear on the record. After finishing the demos, we went out to different studios, and tried different combinations of engineers and musicians to replace some of the elements of my demos, mostly the programmed drums, and to do additional overdubs. [...] A pop artist would probably release what we'd done after five hours, but country artists don't want to hear programmed drums, they don't want to hear fake stuff. So once we had recorded the demos, we would book whatever studio we wanted for each song, to replace the drums, in many cases the bass, and to add whatever overdubs we envisioned, like fiddle, keyboards, percussion and strings. After we got the demos right, we opened it up and allowed ourselves to spend money and cut a big record." Taylor tweets on January 11: "Studio-ness with all the same boys who played on Fearless" and on January 13: "More recording. So excited. So excited. So excited. See, I said that three times. Once for every album we've made in this studio."

January 13, 2010: Posts on Myspace “Thank you January. I have had this month off. I have walked on snow-covered grass and discovered new coffee shops and laughed hysterically with friends about things that probably weren’t technically funny. I’ve written songs on napkins and sat at a giant table with my whole family on my mother’s birthday, all of us in one place for the first time in too long. I’ve gotten to take what has happened to me and process it to my full capability, and celebrate it the way it deserved to be celebrated. I’ve made new music. I’ve gone over the memories and jumped up and down with my producer and floated around with nothing on my schedule other than just appreciating what my life has somehow turned into. [...] Getting back in the studio with the same guys I trust and know and love.. (right, the pointing one: my producer Nathan Chapman) (Left, the waving one: Bass extraorinaire, Tim Marks. Clearly marked on his road case.) [...] Nick Buddha is in charge of the drums.”

February 13, 2010: Writes in her diary "I’ve been obsessing over the new album. I always do that until it’s just right. I don’t know if I have the formula just right for this one yet. I know there are great songs. I just need to figure out the strands that bond them together into a great album. And I will obsess until it’s there. This album, any album, is the next 2 years of my life. It has to be more than amazing. It has to be great enough to keep my attention for 2 years."

February 22, 2010: Posts on Myspace "I’ve been writing lots of songs"

Mine: March 10-12 2010 (Inferring)

Taylor (above interview, at 5:17): "I wrote Mine somewhere on the road, I think in Texas, actually." Nathan Chapman: "The demo for 'Mine' apparently took less than five hours to record, and sounded, according to Chapman, "almost identical to the record. After that we worked on the track for another four months, off and on, and spent $30,000 to make sure it sounded perfect in the real world."" Taylor: "This song is the first single because it has this…there was this moment between Nathan and I, my producer, when I brought this song in and when we made this demo in one day in his basement and we just kinda looked at each other and we were like, "This is it. This is the one. All of the times that I've had "The Moment" with songs of "This is the one," it's been a good call, so I'm hoping for the best on this one. Wish me luck." Scott Borchetta: "Mine" was a turning point in the album’s development. Swift and Chapman had begun recording new songs almost as soon as "Fearless" was released. The two cut demos in his basement studio and would only take those songs to larger facilities once they felt they had an emotional foundation in the basic tracks. Still, it wasn’t until early 2010 when the album truly began to coalesce. Swift presented "Mine" to Borchetta in his office [...] "We probably played that song four or five times," Borchetta recalls. "I’m jumping around playing air guitar, she’s singing the song back to me, and it was just one of those crazy, fun, Taylor teen-age moments."

March 13, 2010: Taylor records Mine, brings it to Scott Borchetta, and says she’s done with TS3

Scott Borchetta: "I said, ‘Keep going,’ [...] She kind of looked at me like, ‘You’re challenging me.’ And I said, ‘Yeah. You’ve found true north here. Keep going.’ " Taylor: “During Speak Now, when I went to (label head) Scott Borchetta and said, 'The album’s finished,’ he said, 'No, it’s not – you need to keep writing.’” (Right after playing in Texas, Taylor leaves for a vacation in the Bahamas, meaning Taylor likely had about a day in Nashville between the two trips).

Innocent: Late March 2010 (Inferring)

Billboard: “It was some time in the period after that challenge — between February and June — that Swift wrote “Innocent,” her response to the Kanye West incident.​​” Taylor: “Some songs take 30 minutes to write, and some take six months, which was the case with “Innocent.” When things affect me intensely and really hit me hard, it can take a while to figure out what I think about it and what to say about it.” (March would be just over 6 months since the VMAs).

March 24, 2010: Taylor goes lunch with Taylor Lautner and both of their publicists, inspiring Back To December.

Taylor: Swift says she based the song on a conversation she had with the guy about whom she's singing. "It's not loosely based," she says. "It's almost word-for-word. It is a song and a conversation that needed to happen, because I don't want to hurt people. If you unintentionally do so, you've got to make that better."

Speak Now: Early April, 2010 (Inferring)

On April 3, Taylor attended the wedding of Josh Farro as Hayley Williams (who is Josh's ex) plus one. That day she also tweeted: ""Nathan you smell really good! Is that a new cologne?" "Thanks! Actually it's a two in one shampoo and soap. From Dial." My producer rules." implying she was in the studio. The conversation below could have happened any day after the VMA awards in September, when Hayley first reached out to Taylor, but I think Taylor probably wrote the song fairly close to naming the album after it. Taylor: "This song was inspired by one of my friends who was telling me about her childhood sweetheart, crush guy. They were kind of together in high school and went their separate ways, and it was kind of understood that they were gonna get back together. Then, she one day comes in and tells me he's getting married. He had met this girl who was just this mean person who made him completely stop talking to all of his friends, cut off his family, had him like so completely isolated. And I just, kind of randomly, was like, "So, you gonna speak now?" She was like, "What do you mean?" And I was like "Oh, you know, like storm the church, speak now or forever hold your peace? I'll go with you. I'll play guitar. It would be great." She was just kind of laughing, and later on I just was wrapping my mind around that idea of how tragic it would be if someone you loved was marrying somebody else. Later I had a dream about one of my ex-boyfriends getting married, and it just all came together that I needed to write this song about interrupting a wedding. For me, I like to think of it as good versus evil, and this girl is so completely painted as the evil one. So this is "Speak Now.""

April 13, 2010: Names TS3 Speak Now

Lover Diaries: "So I’ve been obsessing over the new record to the point where it’s all I can focus on. I’m majorly stressed and borderline losing it, with all these lists and chronic dissatisfaction. Perfectionist-ness. I keep growing tired of songs because I know I’ve raised the bar and I can beat half the songs. Scott and I had lunch the other day. We were talking about the record and I had this epiphany. I didn’t talk in interviews about how I felt about much of what has happened in the last 2 years. I’ve been silent about so much that I’m saying on this album. It’s time to Speak Now. Scott freaked out. He loved it. We have a title, ladies and gentlemen!" Scott Borchetta: ""At one point, the record was not called ‘Speak Now.’ It was called ‘Enchanted,’ [...] We were at lunch, and she had played me a bunch of the new songs. I looked at her and I’m like, ‘Taylor, this record isn’t about fairy tales and high school anymore. That’s not where you’re at. I don’t think the record should be called "Enchanted."’” Swift excused herself from the table at that point. By the time she came back, she had the "Speak Now" title"

Dear John: Spring 2010 (Speculation)

This was likely written sometime after February 2010 (Taylor implies she's single in her vlog and her diary). Beyond that, it could have been anytime between February and June 2010.

Brief Interruption: The next two songs (Back to December and Mean) are going to use quotes from this interview that @1989worldtour found. If you've already listened to the interview attached to the Mine section, then it's the same interview

Back To December: Early May, 2010 (Inferring)

Taylor (above interview, at 5:12): "Back to December was written in New York City. Taylor was in New York city from May 3-5, and May 12-15 2010. she was not photographed in New York any other time in early 2010, and given her busy touring schedule, I doubt she was in New York at another time. USA TODAY: “Swift says she based the song on a conversation she had with the guy about whom she's singing. "It's not loosely based," she says. "It's almost word-for-word. It is a song and a conversation that needed to happen, because I don't want to hurt people. If you unintentionally do so, you've got to make that better."”

Mean: May 29, 2010 (Speculation)

Taylor (above interview, about 6 minutes in): "I started this song called Mean on my, like sitting on my kitchen counter, just playing it, and then, you know, took a plane and flew to the venue where we were gonna play that night and finished it in the dressing room." Now, this may be a too literal interpretation of "took a plane and flew to the venue where we were gonna play that night," but if we want to theorize: the only tour date (that Taylor could've conceivably written Mean during) without another show right before or after it was in Baton Rogue on May 29, 2010.

Long Live: June 2010 (Confirmed)

Lover Diary She likely wrote this around June 5, when she ended the Fearless Tour at Gillette Stadium (Wikipedia counts two festivals as being part of the Fearless Tour but Taylor doesn't, so I'm going with her opinion), since she said that she wrote a song for Speak Now in Boston (which is the closest major city to Gillette)

The Story Of Us: June 9-16, 2010 (Confirmed)

Taylor attended the CMT Awards (Which goes on to be the secret message for The Story Of Us) on June 9 and was sat very close to John Mayer. Taylor: "The people closest to me are used to me deserting a conversation and bolting into some corner of the room with my phone out, hunched over, singing some melody or lyric or hook into my phone. I wrote “The Story of Us” about running into an ex at an awards show, and I came home and sat down at a kitchen table and told my mom, “I felt like I was standing alone in a crowded room.” She tried to console me, but I was gone at that point." Lover Diary: "So I’ve been a little studio rat since the tour ended [...] Ever since, I wake up to my cell phone alarm around 9:30 each morning. Throw on a sundress, skip make up, tie my hair in a messy side braid, and head out the door with no shoes on. Because the only walking outside I’ll be doing is from my house to my car, then from my car, three steps to Nathan’s basement studio. [...] I worked on a song for a few days, then basically finished it in the car on the way to Nathan’s this morning. It. Is. So. Good. And I can safely say I am DONE writing this record!! This song is up-tempo, and hooky and sort of torn-sounding … like this horrible stressed confusion that comes on when you knew the person you’re pining away for is in the room. And for some reason, there are these invisible walls keeping things from being ok. So you’re not fine. And they’re not fine. And I’m so happy I wrote that song!! Footage of Taylor working on TSOU

June 30, 2010: Taylor tweets “@amosjheller is SLAYING a bass part in the studio right now. http://twitpic.com/21am7t” 

Footage Nathan Chapman: “We tried several bassists until we had a bass part that worked, which was played by Amos Heller, of Taylor's live band. In Nashville, it's rare for a road musician to be on the record, but he earned his way into this record by kicking ass. In fact, all Taylor's road musicians played some parts on the album, which was important for me and her.”

July 15, 2010: The orchestra for Back To December and Haunted are recorded (footage here, same outfit as these candids)

Taylor (talking about Haunted): “I wanted the music and the orchestration to reflect the intensity of the emotion the song is about, so we recorded strings with Paul Buckmaster at Capitol Studios in Los Angeles. It was an amazing experience - recording this entire big, live string section that I think in the end really captured the intense, chaotic feeling of confusion I was looking for."

And that's all for this timeline! Check out my others:

TIMELINES: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights PLAYLISTS: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights • entire discography GENERAL: tag

[im-robins-bitch]

hey, can you maybe write a fic about X (x ray) in you Robin Buckley headcanons?

I thought the idea was rlly different

Thank you for the request, I'm sorry it's a little shorter than I intended. I struggled with writing this, it probably turned out sadder than you wanted.

Give yourself a try (r.b x gn!reader)

Or, Robin is struggling and not letting you help, so you do the only thing you can think of to get her to stop and breathe. (1.1.1k)

Warnings: panic attack, self-hatred on Robin's part, reader lifts their shirt to show off their chest, but no descriptors of their chest, just that they lifted their shirt and Robin liked it. No explicit gendered language to describe the reader.

Robin Buckley feels like a dream wrapped in a bow. It’s a miracle she doesn’t just glide across the floor rather than walk because she feels comparable to the Greek gods you’ve heard about. Aphrodite cannot hold a candle to her. You’re sure any sound from her trumpet would make music from Apollo comparable to a child practising the recorder. 

You’ve been hit hard by Cupid's arrow. 

Robin is just so perfect… Ok, maybe not perfect.

She’s awful at applying bandaids, so whenever she’s trying to break in new shoes you find plasters all over the house. Fallen from her skin from her dismal application. They trail across the house, leading you straight to her everytime. 

She leaves all the kitchen cabinet doors open, which has resulted in you gaining multiple bruises. She’s also really forgetful. Her head is so full, different facts and tasks fluttering around, so sometimes a couple of bits get lost. She started writing things down on her hands, things she didn’t want to forget. Though, at the end of the day they would just be multi-coloured smudges, reminders of fleeting memories. 

Still, you would rather peel bandaids off the floor, to find Robin at the end of the trail than have nothing to follow or find at all. Plus you think it’s cute, the small notebook she keeps with her that has important dates written down, things she wanted to talk to you about. 

You’re utterly charmed by her idiosyncrasies, her faults, her Robinisms. 

When you first began dating Robin, it felt like spinning gold, too good to be true. You simply thought you were the luckiest person in the world to call Robin Buckley your girlfriend. You had your share of bumps in the road, but the two of you toughed it out every time. 

You know her like the back of your hand. Know when she needs a hug without her needing to tell you. Know when she needs space, needs to talk, needs to eat. 

For the first time in a long while, you find yourself unsure of what she needs.

Robin is rambling like she so often is. Usually, you love it, indulging in her thoughts and opinions like an addict. Today though, she’s spiralling. 

It’s like picking at a loose stitch, poking out a jumper, one moment it’s just one little thread, but the more you pull the more it unravels.

“I’m just so sorry you have to put up with me,” she seethes, “I don’t know how you do it,” 

Robin is unravelling faster than you can gather her. 

Every sentence out of her mouth is a scathing insult against herself. Against her character or her appearance. You wonder if she’s been feeling this way for a while, curse yourself for not noticing sooner. 

She’s burning holes in the carpet with how fast she’s walking. She’s circling the kitchen with a velocity you didn’t know she had. Tugging at her hair so hard you think tomorrow you’ll be sweeping up clumps. 

You keep trying to butt in, to get her to just stop for a moment and take a breath. To reassess and realise what a treasure she is. It’s just not working. “Rob-”

“Everybody only puts up with me because of Steve and I bet he secretly hates me, yesterday-”

Robin keeps looking at you for guidance but she just won’t stop. She flinched at your outstretched hands and talked over your every rebuttal. She can see herself falling but can’t bring herself to reach out. She doesn’t know how and isn’t sure she deserves it.

You just want to shake her and yell ‘Stop talking about my girlfriend like that!’ Even so, you just can’t catch her. You didn’t realise she was so athletic, she had no enthusiasm for it in school. You think she would have been the school track star given the chance.

She rounds the counter again, hip bumping unkindly into the corner of a cupboard door. You hiss at the contact. Resist the urge to reach out and soothe the stinging with your warm palm and a dozen kisses. 

“Honey-”

“You probably hate me too” Robin mutters, choking on an angry sob.

You snap. The next time she rounds the corner, you step into her way, cutting off her pacing. She walks into you, unable to stop herself and stumbles backwards a little. She opens her mouth again, undoubtedly to say something cruel about herself. 

Unable to stand it, you do the first thing you can think of to shut her up. You pull up the hem of your shit. Bare chest on full display.

For the first time since you got home, Robin is silent. Her jaw drops cartoonishly, her eyes zoning in on your chest unabashedly. 

You take your chance and further invade her space, dropping your shirt back down again. You wrap your arms around her tightly so you can squeeze some sense and love back into her. She tries to return it, but her arms around you are so loose, so unsure, it hurts your heart. 

She smells like the valve oil she occasionally uses on her trumpet. The smell clings to her clothes. You untuck her face from your chest. Hands firm on her cheek, thumb rubbing up and down her pink-stained cheeks, soothing away her tears. 

“Robin, I adore you more than anyone.” You promise, unable to help yourself when you press a chaste kiss to her lips. “Please never doubt that.”

It cracks her facade, her arms once limp curl around you. She squeezes and clings to you like a lifeline and cries with ferocity into your neck. Her anger is gone and left is the ache of sadness, made worse by her exhaustive anger. 

You cradle her against your chest, hand tracing shapes into her back the way you know she likes. 

“I-I don’t…” She starts, unable to form a thought coherent enough to be worth saying. She’s still crying heavily, trying to understand the swirl of unpleasant emotions turning her stomach. Her chest is still thumping with anxiety, a tightness constricting her chest that makes it all worse. 

Even now, consoled by your confession of love, the leftovers of her extreme emotion remain. She tries to calm herself, but it takes time to adjust when it feels like you have just been stood at the edge of a building. 

“It’s okay, my love, cry all you need.” You say breathing steadily. You hold one of her hands to your chest, encouraging her to match her breathing to yours. 

She’s tired of crying, of feeling this way. She isn’t ready to talk about it but she knows you need to, she needs to. It won’t be solved overnight, things rarely can be, but talking about it will start the process. You’ll be there to help her, even if you can’t mend it all, you’ll listen.

You’ll talk when she’s ready, but until then, you’re content to hold her in your arms.

masterlist

[floatingcatacombs]

Trying to Talk About Touhou Two

12 Days of Aniblogging 2024, Day 10

Hot off the heels of my touhoublogging last year, I continued playing through the games, and am proud to say that I now have a one-credit clear on every Touhou game from 6 to 19! It’s been a hell of a journey, and I’m legitimately proud of myself for rising up to the challenge, taking my own advice from last year whenever I could to great effect. Today’s post is mostly going to be about various official Touhou manga, but I might as well wrap up the game discussion from last year first.

My favorite games of the pack ended up being Subterranean Animism (11), Legacy of Lunatic Kingdom (15), and Double Dealing Character (14). While I praised the hell out of Subterranean Animism last year, the other two might surprise you! I’ve totally flipped on LoLK since last year – it’s a rough game if played traditionally, because it’s really meant to be played on the new checkpointing mode. The checkpointing system unique to Touhou 15 also leads to the spell cards in having a fundamentally different design than the rest of the series – attacks are actively designed to trip you up, like they’re puzzles to be solved more than anything. There’s a lot of micrododging and fast maneuvering required, but most of the patterns are fairly deterministic, so experimentation is strongly encouraged. It leads to a frustrating first playthrough but an incredible sense of satisfaction with every small bit of ground gained, and the ability to save and quit and return later helps sell the feeling of going on a long journey that the game’s plot is conveying. The music is amazing and I love you Junko. Meanwhile, Double Dealing Character ended up being a sleeper hit for me! It’s got a chaotic and lighthearted story where you beat up a bunch of monstergirls before proceeding to explore an upside-down castle, which means that it’s legally a Castlevania game. There’s a real sense of constant forward momentum here, with the expanded point of collection system encouraging frantic risk-taking with very high potential rewards on the other side. It’s straightforward, simple fun, and Seija’s whole deal is great, so I'm glad that she got her own spinoff. The soundfont for Touhou 14 and 15 really feels special…. I love you Retrologue Crystal Lake and Retrologue Pristine Chime for being part of ZUN’s toolkit during this time.

Of course, there are some more flawed games, too. One of the reasons that Touhou 14 feels like such a breath of fresh air is that 13 is just plain sleepy. Ten Desires offers very few resources to the player, meaning that dying once early on can be a run-ender. There aren’t really any systems you can engage with to gain extra bombs or lives beyond a passive accumulation of fragments over time, making the whole thing a slow and unexciting affair. Miko’s fight is at least brilliant. Touhou 16, Hidden Star in Four Seasons, sought to provide a very “traditional” experience for those turned off by LoLK’s radical one-time changes. Unfortunately, this leaves it a bit uninteresting and aesthetically bland, though I get that it’s important to the lore. Finally, Touhou 18, Unconnected Marketeers, is ZUN’s first swing at metaprogression mechanics, and suffers a lot for it. It’s very difficult to gain power in this game, which means that dying just once is ruinous, especially since it's a very hard game to begin with. You really have to cheese this one, which means that I kept going for the same ability cards again and again once I found out what worked. I managed to beat it with liberal use of the “your power cannot fall below 3” card, so thanks Mamizou. Unconnected Marketeers does at least have a spinoff called 100th Black Market which I found to be great. People tend to like one or the other, but not both, because the metaprogression systems play out very differently even if they share ability cards.

So, what are my Optimal Touhou Design takeaways from all of this? You want an extra lives system which rewards you the more you engage with it, while also allowing for small mistakes here and there. Games with a higher ceiling of earnable lives feel a lot better than the alternative, while being stingy with bombs is a valid decision and makes those games feel like an extra challenge to rise up to. I’ll learn to love the new characters no matter what if the game is fun enough, but the music and atmosphere are important to get right. And lastly, continued experimentation is decidedly worth it.

Having familiarized myself with all of the modern Touhou characters, I could finally read all the manga! I tried a few times in the past, when the only games I’d really played were 6 and 10, but I felt intimidated by an endless onslaught of characters I didn’t know and was expected to at least be somewhat familiar with. While I’m sure some wiki-diving would have cleared that up, playing through all of the games felt like it would be the more fun approach, and it paid off. Without further ado… some Touhou manga I read this year!

Wild and Horned Hermit

First things first, the artistic evolution here is quite impressive. The manga goes from dinky little sketches in the early chapters to a fully developed and soothing style. Wild and Horned Hermit was being published for ten years! That's a long run for any manga, but here it means that it spanned from Touhou 12 to Touhou 17, which was an incredibly pivotal time for the project that introduced some of my favorite characters. As far as broader arcs go, we move from the religious wars into the sage conflicts, but these generally aren't the main focus of the manga. Instead, Wild and Horned Hermit is about the minor antics and everyday lives of all the humans and youkai you’ve hopefully come to know and love. This is the slice of life-inflected version of Gensokyo that’s plenty implied in the games, but that you can’t ever actually experience there because you’re too busy shooting danmaku at every fairy and youkai in sight. The Incidents of each main game happen off-screen, which seems to be a constant with ZUN-written manga. Instead, we’re dealing with the setup and aftermath of larger events, and the girls from the new games will usually get be introduced with a few focus chapters, which is nice. Kasen is a fairly straightforward POV character, even if she’s got plenty of mysterious connections, helping her bridge the gap between the humans and some of the more out-there youkai. But ultimately, the manga’s goal is to follow Reimu and Marisa as they go about their lives, and it’s a joy to witness.

Forbidden Scrollery

I know this manga has its fans (it’s also the only one to be officially published in English), but it didn’t leave nearly as much of an impression on me as Wild and Horned Hermit. They actually ran concurrently for a while! Our insert character this time is a librarian in the human village, so the stories lean towards rumors and legends, though there’s plenty of other youkai schemes afoot as there always are. It’s funny to see which youkai keep showing up in these largely human-centric stories, and it makes sense that it’s Aya and Mamizou, both of whom really like blending in with humans and causing mischief. As far as I can tell, this is the manga that introduced Aya’s plucky newsboy outfit, so I can’t be too hard on it.

you are perfect

The Fairy Bullshit

Makoto Hirasaka has illustrated three separate comedy manga series about the misadventures of the shitty little fairies that live in a tree by Reimu’s shrine. He also did the all the portraits for the spinoff game Fairy Wars! These are breezy, inessential reads, but the artwork really is special. It is canon to me that all of the fairies look this stumpy, and maybe also Marisa.

Marisa exists in the superposition of being both 5'1" and 6'1"

Lotus Eaters

This may well be the definitive Touhou manga. While Wild and Horned Hermit has the privilege of getting to introduce a lot of important characters and lore details as they emerge, Lotus Eaters demands more of a setting understanding up front. But if you’ve got that, it’s like seeing old friends. This is what Touhou has ultimately become to me and so many other people – a framework for these beloved characters to hang out, occasionally get up to some antics, and otherwise take things easy. Every mini-incident in this manga begins and gets wrapped up in two long chapters, which provides a nice narrative rhythm that still manages to feel fairly organic. The new character, Miyoi, is far less of a presence than Keisen was – this is The Reimu Show, and maybe sometimes The Mamizou Show. And isn’t that why we’re here at the end of the day? To check in on the friends and inhabitants of the Hakurei Shrine, especially the times when they're not resolving major incidents. And in that regard, it’s decadent. True to the narrative framing of a supernatural bar, this is Touhou Cheers. Characters are constantly drinking together and running festivals and having a grand old time, and I love it. The manga really does feel true to its name. Coming from Forbidden Scrollery and Hornet Hermit, the artstyle here took a few chapters to get used to, but now I truly adore it. It’s like everyone’s hair has been ruffled just a bit.

There are a few stray series that I didn’t get to, and obviously an endless amount of doujin to chip away at, but I’ve really enjoyed my time in the world of Touhou manga. All of these would probably be uninteresting as standalone works, but as corollaries to the games and the broader Touhou world, they’re fantastic. The games and the print works really round each other out – characters don’t get many lines in the games, and the world of Gensokyo is only broadly sketched out. The manga helps fill in these spaces, making them feel more real and lived-in, while also periodically canonizing popular fan characterizations and extrapolations.

Maybe next year I’ll become a Hifuuhead, but seeing as I’ve already read its greatest cultural export (Otherside Picnic), it doesn’t feel quite as urgent. Adieu.

[phlurrii]

I cannot sleep and I am curious about your take on this random conundrum I am faced with that I was wondering your take on because I love how you are able to depict dynamic movement and action in your art and animations.

So, I absolutely LOVE it when the typically cutesy being that is Mew is depicted as a feral godly beast and I am so utterly in love with Meau’s truly powerful design. An absolute apex predator. However, my brain is hung up on a frustrating detail. If they weren’t floating everywhere all the time how would they like… prowl? Or chase down something. They’ve got these nubby little arms and these looooong legs.

Like. I’m trying SO hard to imagine something that could anatomically work because as eery as floating can be there’s something satisfying about feeling in the weight of a creature through its gait. But all I can picture with their body shape is…hopping. Just a murderous psychic kangaroo cat god bounding towards something but like…It’s kind of silly? I’m sure irl that would probably be absolutely terrifying to see a kangaroo bouncing at you with malicious intent but… it’s hard to picture it as an intimidating movement.

The slow predatory prowl or the fast thumps of heavy clawed paws of something huge and large sharp teeth that quadrupeds have is so a satisfying in a heart racing way. I WANT a Mew or Mew-ish creature to be able to have that vibe while connected to the earth that but then I look at those LONG footers and nub paws and I…I’m left feeling like it’s not possible.

Even for Meau like…their arm to leg ratio…I don’t think it’s possible to run on all 4s. Naruto-run sure. Absolutely. All the mews and twos can Naruto run and kangaroo-hop with them leggies…but none of them move with the “tiger on the hunt in the forest” vibes. I want to make something close to that but I keep making something too permanently quadrupedal in anatomy.

Sorry for the tired brain rambling I just my brain won’t let me sleep because of it’s “How would Meau run down their prey on foot” thoughts sending me in a spiral.

You see- you see, I have the same. Exact, brain worms. Constantly.

When I made the Ancient mew, I wanted something feral, a physical threat. That happens to be psychically able to obliterate you as a side treat. In my earliest comics, I tried so hard to demonstrate she was a power house, so much so her mega evolution is entirely just… that. A massive, wall of steel. Meau tore those scientists limb from limb, literally, with her jaw. Even in mew form, she bitch slapped a nidoking with her tail and kangaroo kicked a persian. She could’ve just shadowballed them, sure, but I want that weight. That feral energy, that sense of an unstoppable force, meeting an immovable object, except it’s just one cat and they are about to flatten you.

As her design has clearly evolved, I’ve tried to make alterations that fit this feeling, that vibe of apex predator no matter the size. She’s larger then average because she’s a threat, she’s more muscular because she’s a threat, her tail is thicker, packed with said muscle because she’s a threat, her front paws are meaty and girthy because She’s. A. Threat. Her entire mega evolution is just amping up that primal energy of raw, unadulterated strength. That’s why I made it, it was my first freaking thought after I designed her XD

I was actually caught between animating a younger Meau acting like a mew or an current Meau acting like a threat. I went with younger Meau cuz we don’t see a lot of her and she’s about to come up with Noe’s arc. So if you sent me this lovely and viciously relatable brain dump 3 days ago, I probably would’ve swayed to animate feral meau XD

But, to answer your question, yes. She can absolutely hunt you down on all fours and disembowel you with her jaw, she is that untamed, wild concentration that kills with a sleek efficiency fellow gods fear. And! At the end of our current arc we’ll finally get that secondary typing reveal I’ve had planned since April XD