#blow me. you WROTE THIS BOOK where did that come from

[five-and-dimes]

🥶🥶 for the ask thing :)

The end of this snippet is definitely something I've shared before, but because of you I finally wrote the part that connects it to the last scene! Progress! 🙌

“I would not want to intrude…” he says slowly. Hob waves him off, “Nonsense, it looks like the end of days out there, what kind of mate would I be if I let you out in that? You’d probably blow away.” Dream huffed, a little offended, but he couldn’t deny Hob had a point, “Well… thank you,” he muttered awkwardly. “No problem!” Hob began stacking their books and putting their notes into orderly piles. Dream assisted, putting his own supplies back into his backpack and handing Hob the highlighters that were just out of his reach. “I can loan you some sweats. And I know the bed is small, but I got one of those mattress toppers so it’s super comfy at least-” “Wait-” Dream interrupted, blinking in confusion, “I will simply sleep on the floor. I do not mind.” Hob shrugged, “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” For a moment, Dream opened and closed his mouth, no words coming out. Finally, he explains softly, “I do not wish to disturb your rest. I have been told I am. Unpleasant to share a bed with.” Hob looks up from where he was rifling through his dresser, appalled, “Someone said that to you?” “Many have.” Many have said much worse. Few people bother softening their words to Dream. On one memorable occasion a hookup had laughed in his ear and said he felt like he was fucking a corpse. After he finished, he’d practically shoved Dream out the door, cheerfully letting him know “this ain’t a morgue, sweetheart” with a wink before slamming the door in his face. When he got home, he sat in the shower for hours, wondering why no one had a problem with his body when they were fucking him, but they did when he wanted anything else. But. Hob does not need these details. Strangely, he looks upset with the little Dream has revealed. “God, people can be such assholes.” Dream tilted his head, “You often talk about how much you value truthfulness. I would think you’d appreciate their brutal honesty.” “I hate brutal honesty.” The vehemence in his voice catches Dream by surprise. Turning to give Dream his full attention, Hob continues, “The whole ‘brutal honesty’ thing is an excuse people use to get away with being cruel. I value compassionate honesty. Much different.” Not for the first time, Dream thinks that Hob Gadling is the strangest man he’s ever met. “Very well,” he responds slowly, “In that case. Out of compassion, I will tell you that I am a poor bedmate. You are being very kind to let me stay the night, you need not sacrifice your comfort as well.” Hob hums in consideration, crossing his arms as he looks at Dream in consideration, “Would it make you uncomfortable?” The question catches him by surprise, and for a moment Dream just blinks at him. “Pardon?” “Well, you keep going on about my comfort,” Hob points out, “If you’re uncomfortable sharing, and this is like, your roundabout way of getting out of it, that’s totally fine, I’ll drop it,” He raises an eyebrow like a challenge, “But be honest.”

[wastrelwoods]

wow.........he wouldn't fucking say that.......at the end of the day he just wouldn't.....he would be deeply offended by the idea of being ASKED to say that

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.

1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.

2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.

So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.

Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.

He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.

Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.

Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.

I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.

He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.

I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.

OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.

Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world

PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox

Original post

[cvpidzcvrse]

𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

MDNI, like pls omg leave me alone

✦ A/N: omg this my is first time writing a small story or even smut in a whileeee. To introduce myself, i made a tiny little post, check it out!! anyways, enjoy this one loves!!

⋆.ೃ࿔*synopsis: Armin had pissed you off at Connie's birthday bash and you weren't gonna let him forget about it. But little did you know you weren't the only stern one in the relationship.

⋆.ೃ࿔*wc: 2,097

⋆.ೃ࿔*warnings: slight msub, switchy, arguments, begging, praise, make-up sex, degradation, missionary, mating press, pussy slaps, squirting, oral fem!receiving, slight kissing of the feet, p in v, and ofc creampie (practice safe sex)

(I'm an advocate for top armin.)

Armin Arlert pissed you off. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t get mad at a man or even throw a fit at one because you didn’t want to waste your time. But here you are, in the living room of your shared apartment. Y’all have been arguing for hours since you came home from Connie’s party, You’re sure the neighbors are posted up with a bag of popcorn and a free show they can hear through the walls. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone wrote a book about it.

You let out another sigh before crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at Armin once again. He rolls his eyes in response before sitting down on a chair next to your kitchen island. 

That sassy mothafucka.

“You know I don’t fuck with that bitch Minnie and you still started chatting her up. What? You wanna fuck her next? Huh?” You huffed out while looking at him with some crazed look. He must’ve thought you were some dumb heffer who doesn’t know when a girl is flirting with her man. You practically have steam blowing out of your ears, anyone can see that you’re pissed. Contrary to your current attitude,  Armin looks at you with that worried and loving look in his eyes. 

“I didn’t know you didn’t fuck with her, love! I swear I never would’ve talked to her if I knew. Also, I wasn’t ‘chatting her up’ we had a 2-second conversation and that’s all.” He responds this time he gets up from his seat and starts walking towards you. Once he’s a breath away from you he grabs your hand and holds it for a few seconds before you snatch it away and walk past him, your heels clicking dramatically on the floor. You hear him let out a sigh as you take your dear time walking to your bedroom. You weren’t going to let his loverboy tactics get to you, you seemingly shook it off.

“Babe come on, you’re acting crazy.” Crazy. Crazy he says, you stop in your tracks before taking a breath and slowly turning to face him. You blink at him for a bit before walking towards him. The only thing that can be heard is your heels connecting with the floor and your heart pounding out of your chest. “Crazy? You think I’m fucking crazy?” You squint at him, the tone in your voice daring him to say it again. You stop about 2 feet in front of him, with your hands on your hips and an angry glint in your eyes. “No…no. I didn’t say you were crazy. I said you were acting crazy. Baby, you know I would never call you crazy.” He’s reaching to you with his eyes, pleading that you understand where he’s coming from, but the anger never leaves your eyes.

“No nigga, you just called me fucking crazy. Talk with caution, because I’m not having it.” You step close enough to slightly nudge his chest with your acrylic nails. You stare at him for a bit before turning and walking back to your bedroom. 

“That is not what I fucking said and you know that! You’re twisting my words!” He continues to plead after you but you’re not having it. You just chuckle a bit at the statements. “Don’t walk away from me, (✧)!” Slam!

The door shuts with such force you can hear the neighbors banging on the shared bedroom wall. You walk towards your vanity and take a seat on the matching chair. You catch your reflection in the mirror before letting out a frustrated sigh. The front door slammed closed before you let out a loud groan and started your nightly routine.

1 hour later

You’re lying in bed in a graphic tee and shorts, alright by Victoria Monet playing softly in the background. You fix the purple silk bonnet on your head before finishing up the paragraph you sent to your group chat. You’ve told your best friends everything about the argument, of course since they’re your ride or dies they completely agree with you. Terms like ‘fuck that nigga’ and ‘fuck ass nigga’ are being said constantly which brings a small smile to your face. You continue to type before you hear a knock on the bedroom door. You know it’s Armin, and still holding a grudge you don’t get up or answer. You hear the knock again but this time it’s louder. 

“Love, can I come in? I want to talk.” 

You hear his soft voice through the door, sounding like a sad puppy. You let out a small sigh before mumbling a soft ‘Come in’. He slowly opens the door and notices your smooth brown skin shimmer in the glow of the fairy lights hanging above your bed. He melts at the sight of your body sitting there but completely ignores the irked look on your face. 

“I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry for arguing with you, I knew you were right just, Please…”

He pleads softly, taking another step towards. You sit up on the bed still looking up at him with an ‘I’m not having it.’ look on your face. 

“Armin-”

“No…Listen to me, please. I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. You were right, I was being stubborn, I wasn’t listening to you. This isn’t us, and you know that.…”

He rambles on softly, still looking at you with pleading eyes. He takes another step forward before grabbing your hand softly. 

“I can do better…for you…I don’t deserve you. I’ll spend lifetimes to be the man you deserve.”

You blink in surprise at his sincerity. You sigh softly before taking your hand out of his. You look up at him shaking your head.

“Armin, come on…you don’t-”

“Baby, please? Forgive me. Do you want me to beg? I’ll do anything.” Armin starts getting down on his knees in front of your feet. Your mouth goes agape before trying to pull him back up.

“Armin, please you-”

“Baby please, please, please, forgive me. My love…” He starts begging on the ground. He grabs your leg and starts rubbing it softly. You sharply gasp at his soft touch and his cold hands. He trails small kisses up your leg, mumbling soft ‘sorry’ and ‘forgive me’. He makes it up to your thighs before looking up at you with those pitiful puppy dog eyes. 

“Let me make you feel good. Fuck my face, please.”

He begs while giving your plump thighs loving kisses. You cave into his lover boy approach and slightly open your legs. He smiles lightly before grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders. You grab his hair roughly and bury his face into your pussy, he moans into it before harshly grabbing your hips. He gives your clit small kisses before you groan with his teasing. You grab his hair and pull it harshly so he’s looking up at you. 

“Eat it right.” You tug at his hair again before he pushes his face into your cunt and sucks your clit hard. You let out a breathy moan before dipping your head back in satisfaction.

“I’ll do better for you, I promise.” 

He groans again, sending vibrations straight to your clit. You let out another moan before he pushes his tongue further inside. He takes his free hand to rub the bulge in his pants. He can cum just from eating you and he wouldn’t complain. You can feel your orgasm approaching as he’s working wonders on your clit. 

“Armin…I’m about to..”

He nods slowly before licking more aggressively on your clit. He chuckles a bit as your hips thrust into his face. 

“Come on baby, you can do it. Do it for me.” 

He mumbles into your lips before he does one more good attack on your clit before you cover his face in your juices. You let out a loud moan as you try to catch your breath, you look down at him as he pulls away with a string of saliva leaving his lips. He looks at you with his pussy drunk eyes before smiling softly. 

“What else does this greedy pussy need? Huh?”

His voice makes a shiver go down your spine and your pussy grows even wetter. As he gets up you hear the unbuckling of his belt. He slowly undoes every buckle and unzips his pants. You whimper slightly at his teasing and give him a small frown.

“I know baby, I know. Lay back for me..” He whispers in your ear before putting his hand on your shoulder and softly pushing you back. He lifts your legs on his shoulders, letting out a sigh while admiring your glistening lips. 

“You’re such a slutty mess..”

He mumbles before taking his cock out and slapping it against your clit. You whimper slightly before looking up at him with pleading eyes. He just gives you the same pussy drunk stare before chuckling. 

“Please?”

He gets closer to your face, your nose practically touching. You nod quickly before his cock sinks into you, he lets out a moan before slowly moving in and out. Your eyes roll back from the pleasure heading straight to your head. Armin’s pace quickens as his moans get louder.

“You piss me off sometimes, you know that?”

His pace grows harsher and sloppier after every word he says. Your moans grow louder as tears start building. He takes pleasure in turning you into a dick-addicted slut, he looks down to take in the view. Your tits bounce every time his dick plunges into you, his cock twitches at the sight before his head falls back with pleasure. 

“You love making me mad, just so I can treat you like a slut.”

You’re completely zoned out as his cock is hitting that spot you loved. He’s turned you into putty in his hands, you’re a moaning mess getting put in your place by your boyfriend. 

“You take this dick so fucking good, Fuuuck.” 

He lets out another drawn-out moan before slowing down his pace. You let out a loud whimper as your eyes shoot open at the sudden change of pace. 

“Minnie…”

He laughs at your frayed voice and continues his torment with his very slow thrust. 

“Look at it go in and out, look at what this dick does to you, baby.”

He smirks before pushing your knees to your shoulder and picking up the pace again. Your bedroom is flooded with the aroma of sex, your moans can be heard over the music that’s playing. The neighbors will definitely give y’all another noise complaint, but you could care less about that. Armin’s pace starts getting sloppy as he speeds up, pushing you into a mating press. 

“You drive me…fucking crazy, shit.” 

He moans loudly again before he leans down and gives you a messy kiss. A string of saliva leaves his lips before he harshly slams his cock into that favorite spot of yours. He’s fucking you deep into the mattress, you don’t know where your back starts and the mattress begins. Your eyes are practically stuck in your head, the bliss is so strong you can't barely moan anymore. You claw at the bedsheets as you feel pressure building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Minnie, I’m about to cum.” You let out another soft moan before he speeds up his pace again. 

“Say…say you forgive me. Say…it” He groans as he quickens the pace, the squeaking of your mattress gets louder as he loses control and completely fumbles. 

“You can’t cum unless you say it, just say it…please.” 

He’s plowing into your pussy so good you’re too stunned to speak. After a few seconds, you compose yourself enough to say the words he’s been wanting to hear. 

“I for…forgive you. Please let me cum, please I need it minnie.”

“Good girl…”

He takes his hand and rubs circles around your clit, tears fall from the corner of your eyes before reaching your relief. 

“Fuuuck..”

You let out the loudest moan you could muster, now you’re 100% sure the neighbors heard that. Armin lets out one last sharp stroke before he cums inside of you. He collapses on top of you before planting a kiss on your neck. 

“Do you really forgive me..?’

He asks with a huff while trying to catch his breath, he smiles at you softly with that pussy drunk grin. 

“I don’t know yet.”

You laugh out while stroking his hair. 

“Fine, I’ll just fuck you until you do.”

[deformedcat]

"do you really wanna die as a virgin, boy?"

Haruto Shimizu (oc) x switch ? incubus male reader

warning: blood mentioned, subby top!1!1, blowjob, boobjob, not proofread,, short

not finished 😔,, listened to will stetson's rabbit hole cover and had this idea but after i wrote the boobjob scene my mind went blank 🧠💣💥

Haruto knew this probably wasn't the best idea.

He had tried doing this countless times before and failed, but who knows he's gonna succeed this time?

..summoning a demon by himself isn't the smartest thing to do, too bad cause he’s gonna do it anyways. (yolo)

Standing in the center of the magic circle he had painted in blood (pig’s blood, he was too much of a pussy to use human blood.), he carefully lit up the candles around the bloody circle.

Opening the magic book he borrowed from the library, Haruto began to chant words in another language. Once he was done, he looked up from his book to see.. nothing.

Safe to say he was disappointed but not surprised, sighing in defeat, he got out of the circle to start cleaning up,,

Suddenly, a gust of wind forcefully opened the window and entered the room blowing out the candle, the room became surrounded with pink mist.

He put an arm in front of his face, backing up from the center of the room. The mist was too thick for him to see, but he's able to make out a dark silhouette of a.. human?

with horns and tails, that is.

“How desperate are you for you to use blood this time?” a deep alluring and sweet voice said, startling Haruto. 

Walking out of the mist reveals you, with dark red horns and tail, wearing clothes that look like they came from Japan edo era.

“d-demon?” Haruto stuttered, you grinned at this and walked closer to him.

“mm.. close.” you successfully trapped him against the wall, towering over the trembling boy.

“I didn't think that it would work..” he muttered, looking up at you in fear.

“mm.. by the look of you, you want something don't you? Perhaps a contract?” you asked.

“huh?” 

“People summon incubus for a reason. so, what do you want?” you ask once again, walking away from Haruto to look around the room. slightly cringing when you see a bucket of blood in the corner of the room

“i-i don't want anything.. wait— did you just say incubus-” poor guy didn't get to finish his sentence before getting cut off by you,

“sex? or something just to please yourself? c’mon, it gotta be something.. don't tell me you summoned me for nothing.” you huffed.

“w-well.. u-um.. I was just.. curious..?”

you looked at Haruto with a blank face, as if you’re saying ‘you're joking, right?’

you saw how Haruto fiddled with his fingers and looked down at the floor, letting out a sigh, you snapped your fingers to grab his attention.

“Well, I suppose there's nothing you’d like. so, I'll go back. bye.”

right before you could summon a portal to go back where you come from, he suddenly grabbed your wrist and mumbled out something,

“yousaidyouwereaincubuscanyoupleasetakemyvirginity”

“what?”

he looks up at you, eyes filled with determination and repeated his words, louder this time.

“please take my virginity!”

“fine.”

so you agreed, thinking this is just another case of ‘pls let me hit plsplsspls im bitchless since birth’

you pushed him down the bed, straddling his waist and marking his jaw and neck while pulling down his pants along with his underwear, slowly stroking his manhood to life.

..for someone small and shy as Haruto, he definitely is packing, you grinned. 

getting off from him, you kneel down to face his dripping cock, softly sucking on the tip while toying with the remainder of the length before taking it all the way to the hilt. you hummed after hearing the other whine, you looks up for the human’s reaction.

Haruto stares at you, his face slightly red and is letting out a few groans and whines, trying his best not to buckle his hips into your mouth.

how cute. you thought to yourself.

deciding to tease him more, you pull off from his cock with a pop, he let out a confused whine at your action,

“hhah what are you-” haruto whined, almost getting up from the bed but was stopped by you when you slide his now wet member between your pecs (manboobs??)

his already red face turned into an even darker shade of red, eyes wide open with his jaw dropped,

“a-ah?!” he stared at his member resting on your chest, his pupils turning into swirls.. is that even possible? I thought that thing only happens in slice of life manga whenever one of the 

“go wild.” you told him, taking his tip back into your mouth, humming when you felt him thrusting his hips between your chest.

you grabbed the base of his member, tugging him into your chest like you would jerk him off.

he didn't last long, you felt him throbbing in your mouth and pulled off right before he could come into your mouth.

white sticky substances spurted out of his member, landing on your chest and some on your lips.

you grinned, swiping your lips with your finger before licking the baby batter.

“salty.”

Haruto was suspiciously quiet, you rose from your feet, crawling back onto the bed and straddling him on his waist. You lightly poked him from the side looking for a reaction.

“Human? Helloooo.. Is post nut clarity that bad for you- woah!” 

He unexpectedly wrapped his arms around you and hid his face into your chest, face clearly red and mumbling nonsense.

“please..”

“mm?” you lift his chin up, holding in your giggle when you see him drooling and tears slowly filling his eyes.

He really reminds you of a puppy.

“please.. want to be inside of you,,"

how can you say no when he's begging so nicely?

a/n me trying to find motivation so i can finish this (soon i hope),, i was stranded in the airport for 4 hours bcos my flight keep delaying and i didnt have any money ww. anyways,, lev lauv laurve

[etirabys]

meandering post about reading Orson Scott Card again

I've been offline starting at 9pm every day (except once. I was drunk at karaoke and asked for anons at 8:30pm) for six weeks, with the result that in befuddled boredom two nights ago I picked up Orson Scott Card's Songmaster from the house bookshelf.

I read Ender's Game and three sequels when I was a teen thought the books were mid. Since those are OSC's best works I assumed he had nothing more interesting to offer me and didn't try more of him for fifteen years, but Songmaster was compelling enough that I immediately afterwards picked up The Memory of Earth, the first book of a pentalogy.

TMoE is extremely my jam: after humanity blows itself up on Earth, AIs monitor thriving human civilizations in the planets that survivors managed to escape to, and suppress any tech that enables large scale violence by exerting low key mind control via satellites. But forty million years pass, many of the satellites break down, and the AI needs help from humans to restore capabilities. Because as its control wanes, people are starting to e.g. conceive of airplanes or bombs again, and override the injunctions against entering military alliances more than two edges of connection away.

The AI is worshipped as a god all over the planet, but the fourteen year old protagonist that becomes one of the AI's agents tells the AI from the beginning that he'll break with it if its morality seems wrong to him. I like the fourteen year old – unlike Ender or Songmaster's protagonist (adult minds piloting ten year old bodies), he's a normal gifted kid who's unpopular 50% due to his ego and big mouth and 50% because he's socially inept and offends people even when he's trying to be nice.

Songmaster is also partly about a permanent solution to large-scale violence, albeit through one guy who establishes a monopoly on violence and sweeps in pax galactica. Both it and TMoE are preoccupied with the eradication of suffering from evil / human violence, which is closer to my resonant frequency than narratives about defeating particular people or ideologies. At the moment I can't think of any other book with such an insistent focus on the matter than T.H. White's The Once and Future King. It's hard to make a compelling story out of, and I don't think Songmaster really succeeds, but TMoE's premise is well suited to explore that. (I'm also enjoying the matriarchal culture where everyone is expected to have multiple serial-monogamous marriages.) After reading 70% of TMoE last night I wrote:

Usually when I read fiction there's a small part of me going, how can I use this as fodder for my own growth, how can I remix or improve or react against this, how do the author and I measure against each other? (If the quality and content are at an anti-sweet spot, the small part becomes quite large and I feel all teeth towards the author.) But on occasion I read something so close that the absence of that measuring-feeling is its own sensation – ego departs, or at least is split across two bodies. There's just amity and recognition

And it's pretty interesting to feel this way about Card for, well, the reasons.

(If you're familiar with Card drama none of the following will be new to you; I'm coming to it fresh so the rest of this post is me going "uh... wow")

I vaguely knew he was a homophobic Mormon who'd gotten into fights about gay stuff, but I couldn't tell from the Ender books I read. But in Songmaster his issues spring off the page in such a weird way. Every fifth Goodreads review of this book is "Card, u gay?" because, well,

(One review, possibly from a fellow Mormon, that went "Card, it's so sinful of you to be this gay in your novel". Why did he write this book that would predictably make everyone mad...)

it's full of gay male desire. The protagonist (Ansset) is approximately a castrato and characters notice him sexually a lot. The first and only time Ansset has sex it's with a Kinsey 4-5 male character he loves, who's married to a woman but has fallen in love with Ansset. It turns out the drugs Ansset took to prolong his singing career painfully and only-kinda-figuratively explode your balls when you have your first orgasm and you'll never feel sexual desire again. (You'd think his loving teachers would have warned him of that, but, whatever, they didn't.) The other guy is literally castrated in punishment for inadvertently torturing a highly valuable castrato. It's pretty bald: GAY SEX IS ALMOST IRRESISTIBLY TEMPTING BUT YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.

(Sidenote: both Ansset and the guy's wife are very close and have a "there's enough love to go around" attitude about the gay sex initially, before they go "wait Josif is a SERIAL MONOGAMIST... he can only love one person at a time... the moment he had the gay sex his marriage was destroyed". It's funny in a mildly stupid way that Card would set up this parable of homosexuality destroying lives and a marriage but almost everyone involved is peacefully ready to sail into an open marriage. I guess it makes sense if you want to say very clearly that THE GAY PART IS THE BAD PART)

which is fascinating to me, because... why would you tell on yourself like that

(81k also told me secondhand of an essay? interview? where Card openly says "we have to stand against legalizing gay marriage because everyone will get gay married and society will collapse", so that's informing my read of Songmaster as well)

I am pretty dang open about my personal life online but if I had a lot of feelings I thought were disgusting and immoral I would not write a novel dripping with those feelings before pointedly castrating the leads for them. Especially if it wasn't relevant to the actually highbrow themes of (checks notes) winning over your adversaries with kindness and never relinquishing your monopoly on violence. I would be so so so so embarrassed to let this go to print, it's so psychologically transparent, what was he thinking

(Well, I assume he's a very different person with different social incentives. For all I know, people in his church went "hey Orson we read your book and it's clear that you're gay but signaling strongly that you won't give into the gay feelings, we're here for you, it was really brave of you to publish this".)

[evilminji]

My ONGOING "SI-OC Ponderings that my Muse is haunting me with but I may never get around to write" Series!

Because, fuck it, might as well. Maybe it will inspire somebody?

Jedi Youngling! Staring down that double barrel Order 66! FUCK.

Now, see, they don't blame the Clones. They don't even blame the Jedi. Whole lot of "victims of circumstance and our Wrong Place Wrong Time environment" going on. But? Are they gonna lay down and take it? Fffffuck no!

They JUST got this body!

Also?

THESE ARE BABIES.

They, An ADULT, have a god damned MORAL OBLIGATION to save as many of this itty bitty alien babies as they can. They warn the adults, obviously. But they FULLY expect? And are unsurprised? When they DON'T LISTEN.

There is a Force Damned PRECEDENT for that. (May you finally rest in peace now, Master Sifo-Dyas.)

The younglings though? THEY didn't get to make a choice. THEY are innocents. And as the only ADULT with knowledge of what's to come? It's HER moral, ethical, and Force given obligation to PROTECT them until they can do so themselves.

As a Jedi... she has to PICK.

Try to save the adults? Those who willfully chose ignorance AND have the ability to defend themselves? To fight and flee under their own power? Or... save the younglings, the infants and babies. Those whose ignorance is that of the young and still learning? Who CAN NOT fight. Can Not run?

It's no choice at all. And if they truely understood? She can only hope they would command her to do EXACTLY as she is doing. Would demand no less. Consider it UNTHINKABLE to ever choose them.

She searches out the hidden passages. Practices lifting things instead of sword stances. She will need to carry so much. Move so quickly. She KNOWS where the attack will come from... Force willing, if she plans well? The Creches will be EMPTY by the time the soilders arrive.

But for that? She must steal. Redirect. Take things from where they should be. It is easier then it should be. First because no expects true mischief from a child, then? Because a war has begun.

Restriction Bolts of the Temple droids and a simple explanation is enough to gain their assistance. It's illogical not to have a plan, even if you never use it. And through them? "Liberated" data jewels. Already plumbed for all the information they're good for. High end, too.

Perfect.

She wipes them all. Fashion's a belt that, one day, Force willing she might wear as a necklace. Then sets to work coping EVERYTHING about the Jedi. When the temple is lost? Their history should not be.

So long as this string of jewels alone survives.

The Jedi are remembered. Luke with not have to start over from half memories and hearsay. They can learn from the past AND still have it. She puts diaries, prophecies, books the jedi wrote for fun. Various Force sects both past and still alive. Teaching methods. Anything. Everything.

A time capsule.

It HAS to be enough.

She fears it's not. Sneaks into the hall of retired Sabers. Sits. And opens her mind to them all. Please. Please! She knows. She's so, SO sorry. You were done. You EARNED your rest. She would not ask this if youngling were not on the line. If Illum might not become to dangerous to travel too.

....if she did not fear what would become of you, should you stay.

The Sith is coming. He WILL take the temple.

Will you come with me now?

Some do, some promise to die, and die VICIOUS. Swear to blow to deadly shrapnel in the hands of any who dare come for them. Others leave their casings. Willing to come, but not as they were. She apologizes for the indignity, as she stuffs them all in the hidden paths.

Honestly? They muse. They've seen worse. Remember that-? WE DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT. HE WAS TRYING HIS BEST, OKAY?!

And all throughout? One must wonder. What do the other younglings think? That OC is strange? Mad? To be ostracized? No, of course not. She is nice. Listens when they're upset. Does not judge or make every emotion a test. Hugs come readily and her mind FEELS older. Like the Creche Master.

And? If Master YODA can be short? Why not OC? She just lives with them. The other Knights and Master's don't listen to her because she Sees things. It scares them. They SAY they do. But children know the difference, don't they? Between what you promise you'll do... and what you'll ACTUALLY do?

But see, the Creche Master's? Increasingly distracted. Preparing the eldest of their charges for WAR ZONES. It's stressful. The fact that the youngers are quiet? SHOULD raise alarm bells. They KNOW better. But they are distracted.

The ones who DO notice? Are the orphan Padawan. The older initiates. People assigned to "help out".

There aren't enough mind healers. Not enough hands to help around the Creche. It was considered a good idea. Young children are full of uncomplicated Light! Yes, Yoda. They are. But as with Obi-Wan, so too with the Crechelings? Children are NOT here to mend the hurts of their elders. That is NOT their purpose.

They are exposing the youngers to Fear and Grief. Broken bonds and the echos of war. This is NOT good for young force sensitives.

Yet... are THEY not young Force Sensitives? Children too? OC knows they are. And it is a bitterness on her tounge. She does what she can. Because SHE is and adult. They notice too. How can they not? The other children turn to her, she guides them through their day. She gives "projects" and listens to concerns. Walks everyone through meditation.

......runs everyone through the Evacuation Plan? WHAT Evacuation Plan?

Oh.

It... it helps. Having something they are PART of. Doing TOGETHER. Something to combat the growing, creeping, darkness that is not violence and death. This? This is planning. Preparation. It... it feels like have some sense of control again, after everything has become senseless and OUT of control. Yet? It is not DARK. Not seeking to force control on others.

It is just... quietly stepping back.

One foot, then another. Calmly and with grief. Letting go, knowing you have tried, as you leave those who have made their choices to the fates they chose. Silently slipping out the door before the building begins to burn. Just as you warned them. Just as they refused to hear.

It's okay to grieve.

Even those who are still alive.

Of course, Shadows ARE supposed to notice unusual movements. Spies and Falling are a concern. Heeey, little youngling! How's things? Just swinging byyyy~☆ soft interrogation tactics~! Gonna admit to any of the Blatant Theft?

Yes, actually. Good you are here. Saves OC the trouble of trying to figure out who is and isn't a Shadow. Kinda convenient, Master Vos, that it's you. What's the fastest set of ships you could stash at the exit to this and THIS hidden path? By this date?

He's sorry, what?

You heard her.

Tiny youngling, unflinching, staring him down and asking for ships like that's a thing she has any right to do? Why? Well... that depends. Are you actually going to listen, Master Vos, or do you want an answer that will comfort you?

Excuse me.

Do you remember? Master Vos, the suffering of Sifo-Dyas? A temple full of Jedi, a seat upon it's council, yet not a single soul would hear him. Would truely listen. How many Knights? How many Masters? Tell me, Master Vos, exactly how many have DIED for willful ignorance and attachment to peaceful days?

There could not POSSIBLY be Sith. So we will not train or prepare. There can not POSSIBLY be a war, Sifo-Dyas, so be consumed by your fear alone. Die, alone. Let Padawan and peacekeepers be Generals. Because what the Force has shown you? It is happening today.

So we refuse to see it. Cling to the present, Master Vos.

Isn't it so COMFORTING here?

You don't have to know what might be. Don't have to ACT. Can be blind and choose ignorance.

A vision then? He surely concludes. For he is no fool. And the Youngling just looks tired. Eats their meal. Answer the question, Master Vos. Do you remember? Was Master Kenobi's suffering also ignored? How well did that work out. Will you LISTEN or have you already come to your conclusions, and now simply seek information to support them?

....he wants to. He does. But you're like, four.

OC nods. Fair. She can see the genuine conflict on his face. He HEARD her. But can not let go of what his eyes tell him. The Force is too muddled here. She too, would have a hard time trusting a small child with something so serious. But.... she can not change her path. And neither can he.

May the Force Be With You, Master Vos.

Plan Besh it is.

She is a small adorable child. The Coruscant gaurd are overworked and filled with spite. Who wants caff and bribery~? Do they clock her immediately? Yes. Is this hilarious. Also yes. Who did you kill, small child? We promise not to be mad.

No one, yet. Could change. She would prefere it not. But who knows. Anyway~☆! Do any of YOU caff loving (here have a refill) gentleman happen to know of any asshole Goverment Officals with REALLY fast ships that run primarily of droid piloting? With potentially easily disabled trackers? Not that she, a small child, would be DOING anything with this information!

It's just neat information to know! *innocent blinking of innocence*

Uh huh. And they were decanted yesterday.

That SAID.... they have a list. Oh noooo! They dropped the list! So much effort to pick it up. Hey, kid, could pick that up and definitely not steal it for us? Good baby Jedi. Thanks for the Caff. Tell Vos to stop haunting the lower levels. It's OUR job to hunt criminals for sport, not his.

Yes, sir o7

Of she goes? To the Senatorial Garage. It's mostly droids. Of LOOK! I have this handy little tool! Pop. Pop, pop, pop~! Hey? Wanna fuck over the asshole who doesn't appreciate you, steal this ship, AND save the lives of small children?

BOY WOULD THEY! Says local every droid in the Ship pool.

Great! Just figure out where the trackers are, how to turn them off, and when it's time? Meet a one of these locations for pick up. We're gonna NEED you. Like... actually NEED. Not "I'm throwing my money around on the latest and greatest then not USING THEM FOR ANYTHING" supposedly need. You'll have SO MUCH WORK.

(They're gonna cry in Binary. Omg? Fuckin FINALLY???)

And so... inevitably. The clock ticks down. The drama of adults ramps up. They smuggle a few clone troopers through surgery. Try to warn the others. Know it won't be enough. The momentum is too great. The gears of War will grind over everything.

Like a forest fire... the old has to burn away for new growth.

But like hell is she letting that come at the cost of tiny bodies. Clones trapped in their minds forced to fire upon children. There will be enough horrors this day. This can be on less. They WILL be ready. And... they are.

She sees the council running out. Knows what it means. And she does NOT hesitate. Her signal goes out. Her Padawan helpers dropping everything to BOLT for the Creche and the go bags stored there. They are followed by friends. Who do not understand, but trust them. Who's Master's do not understand, but assume this is some plan they were not told off.

It certainly seems so, when in the distance? They hear the temple gaurds fighting to hold the line. Hear blasterfire. They race down the hidden paths. Are met with droids, loading up food and medicine, leave as soon as each ship has the assigned numbers. Again and again. Senatorial chips mean instant pass into space. Important business, you understand.

The droids will follow, with everything. Including what was nailed down. Probably the nails too.

Might steal the hammers while they're at it.

Next stop? Wild Space.

Explorcorps newest finds. FRESHLY deleted. All points warning already being sent. A Fuck You Very MUCH, Sith-y Pants. You'll not be getting ANY of the Corps workers if THEY can help it. And hey... the Masters and a few knights were a pleasant suprise. Them and their squad of rescue troopers? Almost make enough adults to take care of everybody!

Now all they have to do? Is hide, rebuild, and regrow.

Return when Luke has down his Luke thing.

Who knows... not her. She made a plan and she DID it. Some one else can decide for a while. She's just a kid. Tell her when they get there, okay?

[maximsdeadwife]

The Experiment pt. 2

Sherlock Holmes x reader

The Experiment pt. 1 // Masterlist

Summary: Sherlock needs something new to keep him occupied. You have the perfect answer to his problems.

Author’s notes: couldn’t resist writing part 2, which was also requested after I wrote part 1. In my Victorian dirty talk research I discovered that the term ‘blow job’ comes from the Victorian term for cum: ‘blow,’ and how could I not make the most of that information??

Warnings/content: nsfw - smut, f!reader, blow job, hand job, marriage, first times (Sherlock’s first blow job), discussion of safe word, sub!Sherlock vibes if you squint

Upon returning to 221B, you found Sherlock barely out of bed; half-dressed and dropped down onto the nearest armchair, hair mussed from sleep and face sullen.

He hadn’t had a case for over a week, and whilst at first he had taken to spending his free time gladly tending to your desires, you did need to leave the house from time to time to run errands and see to your other commitments.

It was moments such as these that the ennui really set in. Sherlock needed something to occupy him, and if he couldn't have you, he needed something new to excite him, but whatever that would be hadn't yet arrived on his doorstep.

‘Sherlock, darling, I’m home,’ you chimed carefully, not wanting to startle him out of his melancholy.

His eyes lit up for a moment before he saw that you were already busy with the books you’d collected, and he dropped back into the chair.

You were eyeing him, though, surreptitiously as you flicked through one of your new novels pretending to admire the illustrations while really you were admiring him.

‘Remember our wedding night?’ you mused, attempting to sound entirely casual.

‘Fondly,’ he sighed dreamily. If only he could feel the excitement of that night anew, the thrill of learning your exquisite body for the first time.

‘I’ve been doing some research,’ you went on, finally snapping shut your book.

'Oh?' An eyebrow raised, interest piqued.

‘There was something you mentioned that night that I read up on since I’ve been wholly unable to distract my mind away… it's something I rather fancy I’d like to try.’

Your voice had turned sultry, immediately capturing Sherlock’s attention, his head snapping up so that he could examine your current state and gather your precise intentions.

Pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, breath quickening, he thought, and at that, heat stirred in his belly, coursing to his core.

‘You told me you would like to experiment with your own orgasms.’ Shivers crept up your neck, not yet quite used to speaking in such a way in the company of a gentleman. ‘Do you remember? You wondered how it might feel to climax in my hand... or my mouth…’ your tongue advanced slowly around your parted lips rather pointedly, eyes locked on his.

‘And how do you propose we conduct this experiment?’ he panted, beginning to tremble.

‘Sherlock… I'll need to taste you.’

His heart began to race and his eyelashes fluttered, unsure where to look. Your lust for him often threw him from his place of comfort. To him, it was ever an unexpected thrill to be the object of your desire, but never an unwelcome one.

‘Where… how do I-’ he started, cheeks flushing with shame at how utterly libidinous he felt for you.

‘Lay down for me, here, on the chaise,’ you beamed, thrilled that he was ready for a new experience with you.

As he peeled himself from the little armchair to stretch his long body out, he propped himself up on a cushion so he could observe what you would do to him.

You knelt between his ankles to slide your fingers up past his knees and over his strong thighs. ‘Spread your legs a little more… that’s it,’ you encouraged as he settled into position, one foot landing firmly on the floor, grounding him. From what you'd read, you supposed he may need it.

‘I’m going to unfasten your breeches and take you in my hand first,’ you said softly as your fingers got to work on unfastening the buttons keeping him decent. ‘Only briefly, though, for this time, I would like to suck your manhood and have you spill every last drop of your blow down my throat until you’re left limp.’

Sherlock’s breath caught in his throat.

‘Remember the code word?’ you breathed, eyes growing wide with wonder, ever fascinated with his size as your fingers released his already throbbing arousal and wrapped delicately around him, pumping lazily.

Sherlock nodded quickly, eager to begin. ‘Mycroft,’ he uttered breathily, ‘if I don’t enjoy the sensation, or it becomes too much, I say it once, and you'll stop.’

‘Precisely. And if you do enjoy it?’ you smirked up at him, gripping a little more firmly as you stroked him, lips now so close to the tip of his length he could feel the warmth of your breath against it.

‘Oh-ah-mmh… then I… ah- I will cry your name… over and over until I have- mmh!- no breath left in my… oh!- body.’

‘Understood.’

Your delightfully plump, wet lips finally brushed against the flesh of his tip, parting to suckle at the precum that oozed steadily out onto your lapping tongue.

Sherlock cried out, his body jolting at the overwhelming fever that spread rapidly through his body at the heat of your mouth on him. He tried to think through it, tried to memorise the sensations, but nothing had quite come close to this when it came to his pleasure.

He'd fucked you every which way one could imagine, finding easy release in the depths of your own pleasure just by knowing that he was the one to cause it. But this, entirely focussed on his needs, was a whole other game.

He couldn't grasp any of the thoughts swirling around his pleasure-addled mind, couldn't focus on anything but how you felt, wet and warm around his root, devouring him like a starved woman presented with a delicious meal.

And a delicious meal, he was. His cock swelled within the passion of your mouth as you took him in further still, your massaging fingers at the base, compensating for what you couldn’t fit. Remembering what you’d read in that filthy little book you'd been keeping secret, you bobbed your head and hollowed your cheeks, and you sucked, gently at first but slowly building to something more intense that made it harder and harder for him to find any semblance of focus.

You gazed up at him, eyes sparkling with your own arousal, to see him completely lost in pleasure, one elegant hand pressed to his forehead in delightful despair, the other gripping the edge of the cushion he laid back on so firmly that his knuckles had long since turned white.

You hummed, appreciating his weight of his heavy cock against your tongue as you felt a wetness grow between your thighs. The vibration your dirty little sound sent down his shaft caused him to whine out a string of incomprehensible obscenities, and his hips to buck up involuntarily as he fought to keep his eyes open and his head lifted enough to see you.

He’d never felt so safe with such a lack of control over his body, every nerve alight with passion and every muscle weak with complete pleasure. He couldn't think, but he didn't need to. He knew somewhere in the depths of this rapture that you would take good care of him, think through his pleasure for him, and finish him spectacularly. There was one other thing he knew for certain - one thought that pierced the haze of euphoria clouding his every thought - that his peak would come all too soon.

He couldn't fight it, he felt too week with imminent satisfaction to try to last any longer. He wanted this feeling to last forever, but also to explode between your lips and reach paradise all at once.

He released his grip on the seat cushion, and reached, trembling, for the nape of your neck. If his eyes must insist on clenching shut in unfathomable pleasure, he could at least follow your movements with touch, perhaps that would be just as enjoyable as watching.

It was.

At the exact moment that his fingers connected with your neck and slid up into your hair, he erupted with a shout, emptying his seed into your mouth and down your throat while your tongue circled his sensitive tip each time you moved upwards, and massaged his shaft as you slid back down.

Your name tore from his lips, a guttural cry that rang in your ears as he came down from his climax, breathless and groaning in exertion.

With a final lap to clean up the last traces of his peak, you sat back on your heels and smiled, proud of yourself for getting him off with such excellent results on your first attempt.

Sherlock was still very much floating on another plane of existence as his length twitched with aftershocks and softened upon your palm. You pushed up so settle over him on the chaise, appreciating his post-orgasm glow from a few inches above his handsome face.

‘A success?’ you chuckled, connecting your lips to his so he could taste himself upon them.

He nodded, opening his eyes slightly with an uneven smile meant as a silent thank you. ‘But I… I couldn’t focus on a thing. Nothing, that is, except for your mouth being stuffed full of me. Tell me you-’

Pride swelled in your chest. ‘I memorised every minute reaction.’

‘That’s my girl,’ he breathed. ‘You should write it down.’

‘Oh, I will,’ you promised, ‘in great, explicit detail. But first, another?’

His head fell back as you moved your hand gently over his sex, feeling it grow with arousal once again, and with that, a knock sounded at the door.

Disappointment flooded you. ‘You'll probably want to get that. It could be a case-’

‘They can wait,’ Sherlock whispered, waving his hand lazily. ‘I'm in the middle of a very important experiment for which we need more data...’

[shiftingparadise]

*gets on knees before repeatedly blowing*

May we PLEASEEEEE get another soft spot part where Feitan and reader have a fluffy and smutty day? I NEED MOREE THE SERIES IS SO GOOODDDD 😭

I hope you like this 🥺 I wanted to show another side of Feitan. Anyway, thank you for your request and your kind words 🤍🤍🤍 You guys don't realise how much this means to me <3

Word count: 1468

Warnings: smut!!!

His mind was made up. He was going to punish you for what you did. You were his and his alone.

Feitan shook his head at the thought. You weren’t his. Not his alone anyway, but he had agreed to share you a long time ago. It was better to have a part of you than nothing at all. “Tsk”, he narrowed his eyes. Feitan felt betrayed more than anything – a feeling you seemed to give him more often than not.

Yes. That feeling you gave him was a sweet justification for what would come. He talked with Chrollo about your punishment and he gave his full permission. A part of him felt excited. After all, he never thought he’d got to treat you so rough again; that he got to punish you like before. With a determined heart, he opened the door to your room.

“Fei!”, you happily jumped from your desk, “Look, I just finished reading this”.

Feitan froze as he noticed your enthusiasm; your glittering eyes that seemed to light up the darkest of nights.

“You see? It’s a classic”, you proudly held it in front of you, “At first it was kind of hard to understand what was happening but now-“.

 Feitan could only watch as you rambled on. It seemed you were unaware of his mood and feelings toward you but still… A part of him enjoyed seeing you like this, despite his anger toward you.

“What’s wrong?”, your hands dropped to your side, “You seem tense. Is something wrong? Can I do something?”.

Why? Why did you have to make everything so hard for him? He wanted to punish you. You deserved to be punished. So why? Why did he feel like this? So soft, so…

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bore you”, you looked to the ground, “We can talk about something else”. “No”, he hastily intervened, “Tell me more”.

He didn’t want you to stop; to lose that spark in your eyes. He loved seeing you like this.

“Really?”, your eyes lit up again.  “Hm”, he coldly nodded. “Come, sit down!”, you happily jumped on your bed, “I’ll tell you everything”.

Feitan shuddered as your soft touch met his cold skin. He never got used it.

“Besides, where’s Chrollo? He recommended me this”. “Out”, Feitan’s heart shattered a bit. He was supposed to hurt you and here he was, listening to you rambling about a book he couldn’t care less about. “Oh, okay”, you smiled as you gestured for him to lay down on your thighs.

Feitan hesitated for a bit, but he quickly realized he’d never say no to such a luxury.

“Okay so, if you didn’t know this book is called “Metamorphosis”. Franz Kafka wrote this”, you shifted a bit before stroking through his dark hair. “It’s about a cockroach, but it isn’t about a cockroach. Get it?”. Feitan only hummed in response.

Despite is stiff position; he felt more comfortable than ever. It never took him long to doze off like this.

“One day, this business clerk wakes up as a cockroach and his entire family-“.

Those were the last words he heard before he fell asleep. It didn’t take him longer than a minute – as usual.

When he woke up, he found his arms wrapped around your body. You must’ve fallen asleep not too long after him.

Feitan stared at your face. Something he cursed himself for. Were you an angel? Sent by the Lord himself? Or a demon that had him wrapped around your finger? It didn’t matter to him. You had his heart, his soul, his mind… Every part of him belonged to you.

He softly positioned himself on top of you; his hands resting beside your head. “Y/N?”, his voice still rough as he gently moved a strand of your hair. “Hm?”, a frown on your face as you woke up. “Please”, his gaze fixed on your eyes. “Fei?”, you softly grunted as your tired eyes looked at him. “Can I- Can we”, he never felt so unsure. “What?”, your brows pulled together at his strange behavior. “Can you take care of me?”, his eyes seemed cold, but his breathing betrayed how he truly felt. “Oh, you want me to-“, your eyes widened. “N-no, I want you to take care of me”, he coldly looked at you. “I don’t understand”, a confused look in your eyes. “I think I want something else today”, he gently grabbed your hand and placed it against your cheek, “I don’t know what, exactly, but I know that I want to feel as I did earlier”. “Earlier?”. “When you were stroking through my hair… I want that feeling”, he softly guided your hand to his hair.

He didn’t know what he was asking. He didn’t even understand this part of himself or what he craved.

“I think I understand”, you sweetly smiled, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you”.

Feitan watched as you moved away.

“Where are you going?”, he jolted upright. “Well, you asked me to take care of you, right?”, your cheeks reddened. “Hm”, he nodded. “Don’t worry”, you shyly slipped out of your gown, “I’ll take care of you”.

Feitan didn’t answer. Instead, he sat back again.

“You always take care of me”, you gently sat on his lap; your arms wrapped around his neck. “You think I don’t notice everything you do for me?”, you whispered as you massaged the back of his head.

Feitan’s heart started to race. Your voice never sounded so soft.

“Hm”, his eyes were locked to the ground. “Fei?”, you gently wrapped your hands around his cheeks, “I notice everything”.

His eyes widened as he saw the vulnerable look in your eyes.

“D-don't-” he frowned as you pushed against his chest. “Let me take care of you. I promise I’ll make you feel good”, you placed another soft kiss on his cheek.

He wasn’t used to this; for you take control but… It felt nice.

Your hands gently tugged on his belt, eager to see more of him.

Feitan took off his clothes and threw them into the nearest corner of your room.  

“Fei?”, you gently placed yourself on top of him. “What?”, his cold gaze hid every ounce of emotion he felt. “Tell me what you want me to do”, another kiss against his cheek.

“I-I want you to take care of me-“. “How?”, you left a trail of kisses on his chest, down to his stomach. “You know how”, an irritated sigh. “I don’t”, your hand gently stroked his member. “F-fine”, he loudly swallowed, “I want you on top of me… I want you to tell me how much you enjoy being mine and… And I want you to tell me that you, I don’t know, love me or something”.

Your eyes widened as you noticed his stubborn expression. You never saw this side of him. Despite knowing him for so long, you still didn’t know who he truly was; what he was hiding deep inside of him.

You nodded as you shifted on top of him; his member easily sliding into you. “S-shit”, he closed his eyes. He wasn’t used to you being on top. “Fei-“, you slowly started to ride him. “Hm?”, his hands grabbed your waist; guiding you. “I love you”, your hands resting against his chest, “I love you not because you make me feel good but because you take care of me-“. “Y/N-“, he practically moaned your name. “I love the way you look out for me; how you ignore your own needs for me… I love how you look at me and at anyone who dares to look in my direction-“. “S-stop-“, he pressed his head against the mattress.

He didn’t want to come already. Not now. This felt too good to be true.

“I-I love how jealous you get and how good you look when you’re angry at me-“, you picked up the pace, your eyes closed in pleasure. “Y-you like that?”, he admired how your breasts bounced up and down as they invited him them. “I-I do”, you grabbed his hand before he could do so and placed it between your thighs. “F-fuck Y/N-“, he loudly swallowed. “Together?”, you leaned forward as you pressed your lips against his. “H-hm”, he gently grabbed your jaw as his other hand rested on the back of your neck.

It didn’t take long before you both reached your climax.

“Fuck, that felt good”, you softly moaned against his ear. Your body still shaking. “You were amazing”. You noticed how his voice didn’t feel as cold as before. “Fei?”, you gently pulled away. “Yes?”, he softly stroked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I love you”, you barely whispered.

For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond, but luckily his heart knew.

“I don’t know what love is”, his voice still rough, “But I think that this comes pretty close”.

[therabbitthatpostthings]

White Day

Teen!NanamixTeen!Reader -Part 1-

He didn’t have a crush on you.

Okay, he did but, Kento would never tell anyone he had a crush on you. His feelings were very important and not something he would go around telling people. You’d probably agree. You weren’t the type to make a big show of things and he liked that. If he could avoid telling people you were dating and just enjoy you alone, he would. Well. He would, if you were dating but you're not dating. Still, Kento couldn’t help but hold onto the hope that you might one day look his way. You were always so nice to him, nicer than the other upperclassmen. You took interest in the things he was embarrassed of, you liked the dramatic movies he did, you traded CD’s with him. You were like a dream come true in this cruel world.

He couldn’t help but wonder why you avoided him now.

You didn’t walk over to him and Haibara to trade snacks. You didn’t ask him to hold your books and started using your bag again. You didn’t offer to trade CD’s or share headphones. You didn’t even spar with him on the weekends. It was kinda embarrassing to admit but, he didn’t realize how much of his time was spent with you. How much space in his life you took up. This sudden feeling of hollowness surrounded him and it felt like everyone could see it. Everyone could feel it. Kento never noticed just how quiet his life was before you.

Kento walked through the halls, annoyed as usual. No particular reason but, it has conveniently been over two weeks since you two stopped talking. He didn’t realize you were ignoring him until you stopped having lunch together. He knew you were quiet that day but you were as loud as the other second years. He thought it was normal for you. And then you vanished from his life. The days since then blurred together. Kento stuck to his normal routine like a machine. The world would keep spinning after all. He was certain whatever was troubling you would blow over soon and you would tell him about it. He walked like a dazed zombie down the halls every morning and waiting in the class for Haibara to arrive. Today was different though, today he heard a light sound, a soft giggled coming from ahead of him.

There you were! Laughing aimlessly with Haibara and Shoko. His body froze a few steps away from you. You looked like a dream, like a distant memory that just came back to him. You noticed him standing there and his heart shattered when your face scrunched in anger and annoyance.

“I’ll talk to you later Yuu-Chan.” You smiled, gesturing towards Shoko to follow you down the hallway. You disappeared amongst the students as Kento approached Haibara.

Haibara looking between your fading figure and Kento, “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t know (Y/N) and you still talked,” Kento answered, still staring down the hall.

“Well yeah, they’re not mad at me.” Haibara stated.

That shocked Kento, “(Y/N) is mad at me?!” He said that a little too loud and Haibara quickly pulled him into the empty classroom.

“Why is (Y/N) mad at me?” Kento asked before the door could even shut.

“You rejected them.”

“When?!”

“On Valentine’s Day? The note?” Haibara gestured towards the desk.

“That was Gojo-senpai’s note!”

“Gojo-senpai wrote you a note?!”

“What are you talking about!?”

“What are you talking about?!”

Kento stepped back to lean against the desk as Haibara rattled on. “I never took Gojo-senpai for your type…”

Could that note have been from (Y/N)?

“I don’t think he likes the brooding type either…” Haibara inquired to himself.

Why would you of all people write him a note? It sounded ridiculous. There was no way you liked him. You couldn’t have, right?

Haibara struck a thinking man pose against the empty desk, “Utahime and Shoko-senpai seem more compatible with each other than either of them with Gojo-senpai.”

That perfume on the note, it was yours. He had been in your room plenty of times to spot it. You knew where he sat. You knew when he came into class. It had to be you.

“Definitely. Geto-senpai is his type.” Haibara concluded.

“Haibara?” Kento spoke.

Haibara was still tuned into his own deductions, “You agree, right?”

“Not about that! I need you to help me apologize to (Y/N).” Kento rested back against the desk. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He knew he had to make it up to you. He had to do it before you never talked to him again.

The rest of the day was filled with dread. You, of course, ignored and avoided Kento. It didn’t help calm Kento’s mind that that he embarrassed you in front of Gojo and Geto. Both of them just LOVED bringing up any embarrassing moment they witnessed. A chill ran down his spine at the thought that he is cause of your torment right now (even though they both knew better to not rub a heartbreak like that in your face). There was truly no escape from his mistakes. The worst part of it all is that he didn’t even bother to read the note. He crumpled your feelings up like trash and threw them back at you. Like it was below him. How could he do that to you?

 You seemed to be fine without him which hurt a hell of a lot more. You smiled just as easily with Gojo and everyone else. It’s like you didn’t notice the space he left, if he took up any at all. Did he really mean so little to you that you could just erase him from your life? Would an apology even do anything? What if you already fell out of love with him?

____

“What is it? I'm busy.” Your words felt like daggers piercing through him.

“Just checking on you.” Kento replied, holding a bandage out for you to take. After a tough mission, in which you two still barely spoke, Kento was trying his hardest to make some kind of amends. Two weeks turned into three and a month later. Today is the first day you two were in the same vicinity. And truthfully you had nowhere else to be but it was better than being here, beaten and bruised by a dumb curse. It was located in the pool of a middle school on the other side of town. The curse wasn’t too hard or powerful, its only saving grace was its speed. It gave you both the run around from late morning to early evening while Gojo and Geto dealt with the much tougher foes on the outside. And Gojo being the saint he is made sure that You and Kento were stuck together the whole mission. I mean it only made sense to him, right? He and Geto are better suited for the bigger curses. He’s just being a responsible senpai! That’s also why he lovingly made sure to excuse himself and Geto from the car ride back so it was just you two alone in the infirmary.

The thought of that smug bastard dining on snacks from the convenience store while you had to suffer made your blood boil. You were grateful those two showed restraint until now but this was the worst time to confront your feelings. Aching and tired from an embarrassingly long mission.

“I’m fine, thanks.” You replied coldly. You ignored his gesture and reached for your jacket on the bench. You tugged it on and felt a sharp pain shoot up through your shoulder. It wasn’t that painful but you were in a hurry and the shock got to you. Kento quickly shifted to your aid but you took a step away from him.

“You’re hurt (Y/N),” He pleaded. He pulled the jacket out of your arms and you put up no fight against him. At this point you were willing to run without it. Who does he think he is to act so kindly now?!

You yelled, “Why do you care?!

How could he have any sympathy for you now? If he really didn’t like you he could have done it privately! Why embarrass you in front of your friends like that! On Valentine’s Day of all days!

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“Leave me alone. You can’t just keep being friends with me after hurting me like that!”

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know you wrote the note!”

“How could you not know?!”

“I-I didn’t open the note-”

“You didn’t read it!” Your voice cracked in anger and sadness. The pain in your shoulder was distant compared to the lump in your throat and the pit in your chest. Forget throwing the note away, he didn’t even read it! He didn’t even care what you had to say! How could Kento be so cruel! “I wish you would just leave me alone!”

You turned to leave but Kento pulled you back by your wrist, mindful of your injury. You didn’t feel like trying to break free, it was only to aggravate your shoulder into an actual cause of concern.

He spoke softly, “I thought it was a prank from Gojo. It just didn’t make sense any other way. I’m sorry.”

You still faced away from him, “Did you not consider my feelings at all?”

“I couldn’t have imagined someone like you would ever like someone like me.”

You scoffed, “And what am I like?”

“Perfect. Gorgeous. Generous. Brave.” Kento listed off as you finally relaxed into his touch. You still didn’t turn around, afraid this was still some kind of joke. If it was, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

Kento sighed, “I never thought you would like me. Like I didn’t deserve you. So when I saw that letter I thought it could only be a joke. I thought I could live with you hating me but… I’ve realized how much it hurts not being with you. I didn’t mean to hurt you (Y/N), I’m sorry.”

You were trying your hardest to not let tears fall. Part of you wanted to pull away and run. The other wanted Kento to hug you close. He didn’t mean to hurt you. Kento wouldn’t ever hurt you on purpose, that’s clear now. You always knew he wasn’t that kind of guy. You thought distracting yourself in your friends and missions would ease the pain but it only emphasized just how alone you felt without him at your side.

“(Y/N), I understand if you're still mad at me but please, don’t ignore me anymore.” He pleaded.

You hesitantly turned around, “Do you really like me, the way I like you?”

“I do!” He answered eagerly. His suddenness took you aback. Kento took both of your hands in his but quickly got embarrassed. A choked back laugh left you as he blushed. Though embarrassed, Kento was happy to see you smiling again. Smiling at him.

You pulled him into a hug, holding him like this moment would disappear. You listened to his heartbeat pick up as he wrapped his arms around you and relaxed into his embrace. Kento wasn’t much of a hugger but you loved being in his arms. He felt so safe with you.

You kept your head resting towards his chest. Softly you spoke, “I’m sorry I ignored you.”

“Don’t be, I should have read the note.”

You both stood there in a comfortable silence. Neither wanted to leave but the infirmary was closing for the night. Kento offered to walk back to your dorm room, obviously not ready for the moment to end.

“So,” he spoke carefully, “What did the note say?”

Your cheeks heated up at the memories. You spent four whole days writing a confession and scraped every version beyond the last. Even if that was short and sweet you still racked your brain over it! “D-Don’t worry about that! It’s over now!”

He chuckled, “(Y/N), I’ve never seen you so embarrassed.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” You pouted.

“How about we go on a date tomorrow? It’s White Day so, consider it my response.” Kento smiled. “Would you tell me what you wrote then?”

“Fine,” you huffed as you reached your room door. “Only because you're mending my broken heart.”

Kento smiled. He brought your hands up to his lips and gently kissed the inside of your wrist. “It’s a date. Rest up, okay?”

“R-Right..” You nodded. He gave you a small wave and he disappeared down the hall. You quickly shut the door behind you and slid down to your knees, thoroughly embarrassed. Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. You looked over to your desk where the infamous letter sat and the realization set in.

Ah… Kento… likes me…

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The Note Kento got vs the process Y/N went through:

Tag List:

@harlekin6 @scarasluvvr @patpatspatz @blendingmixer @cosmiicpiink @justakidnamedplant @polarbvnny @moka44 @desiderium-dreams @idioticstar @apchmon @niiconoriez @ilovemensomuch1234 @obsessive-clown @tyunswifey @lunasolac @spam-love @byul9158 @verynormalsstuff @abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz @zoom1374 @littlemissvalentina @kinokomoonshine @diannana @darlink-xoxo @g-kleran @luv444lay @preferstyles @braveironrose @melody-death

[circeyoru]

I firmly believe that Lucifer thinks reader (unwanted soul) as either his kid or younger sibling by how he threatened Alastor if he hurts them. Also I find it cute if Lucifer makes reader an unlimited page book since he's worried if they got into a too heated battle they won't notice their pages are thinning. I mean if he can make fantastic rubber ducks with amazing abilities, I'm sure he can somehow make an unlimited notepad for reader to use. Or at least he gives reader a new welcome to the hotel gift, and because he hasn't seen them in a while

Also I wanted to add to the if alastor got into heaven version where he's dead and got redeemed. Reader would isolate themselves so much so that Lucifer visits once a week to check them. And when extermination day hits again (if it happens again), Lucifer would force reader to reside in the hotel for their well-being. That's where they meet Alastor in his all angel-looking feature glory. He probably checked on their old house first, when he didn't find them he definitely raged killed some demons on the way. But he still feels some sort of connection that lead him to the hotel where he finally found reader.

(Can you tell how obsessed I'm with this series)

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.

Ohh, I wonder if you're making Reader too op.

Part 1: Reader's/your gift from Lucifer

Instead of focusing on the book or notebook, let me direct your attention elsewhere. Ever thought about the quill? If you know how a feathered quill looks, you'll get what I mean. A quill essentially needs to be dipped in a jar of ink to write. Did I ever mention Reader/you carrying one or even using one? No. Never was 'ink' even mentioned in the story or the trivia (asks). Because that quill was a gift from Lucifer. A quill created by Lucifer and gifted to you. It's enchanted to be writable without ink and on any surface, with a camouflage mode to suit your preference, last feature is that only you can use it. Why Lucifer gave you a quill is because he knows you don't have to use pages as your surface to do crazy things (summoning weapons and casting spells). You can write on a wall, blow on it and it disappears to do what you wrote. That includes writing on the skin of a demon. If you read the demon design, you'll know what I mean. The writing on pages part was just a handicap you gave yourself and it was convenient for you to carry around a book or even a small pad to write with. Plus, you don't like attention, so you use a book with limits. You know you'll go overboard when your emotions rule over you, so you limit yourself.

Part 2: Yandere Redeemed Exterminator Leader!Alastor (what a long title for him)

For context, check this ask.

You do isolate yourself to the point it is concerning. Because you don't ask for help and you did when you asked Lucifer if he could provide you with new quarters that was far from where you were or the hotel. So many reminders of Alastor around you, you can't take it.

Seeing you in such despair, Lucifer shared with you that the souls in Heaven were granted the gift of forgetting when they entered the golden gates. You got the idea of forgetting the years spent with Alastor, from the point you saved him to the point you rage-killed for him. Lucifer advised you not to, but you were persistent in your plan. You returned back to the old place, scrolling around to make sure nothing was amiss and took in the final sorrow of nostalgia. Then you wrote down your command on your skin, you watched the words sink in and then everything went black.

Here, you were back to normal, save for Lucifer being the only one (again) who knew what happened to you. Not sure if exterminations continue (since no season 2 yet), but say that it does but further apart as a compromise for Charlie to save more souls. Lucifer visits you, but only to check and see if your memories came back, when they didn't for a long while, he didn't come as often.

When Alastor came down to Hell, he went to your apartment first thing. It was extermination day, so you were definitely there. You were sleeping through the day until your charms alerted you that there was someone in your apartment. You summoned a dagger made of angelic steel, creeping to the living room.

The moment you saw the pair of white wings, you ambushed and knocked Alastor down to the ground. You kneel on top of him to keep him down, the blade at his neck. "I'll give you a chance to leave and your head won't go rolling on my floor. You can fly back to your precious paradise and I'll let you."

Alastor's head turned to face you, a complete 180 without trouble, his smile softened as he praised, "My darling, you're beautiful."

"What?"

"Why would I want to leave you? I've done so much to come back to you. I'll never leave you, dear. If you want, I can give you my wings to make up for my absence."

Your face twisted to confusion and disgust. "What? Who are you?"

Alastor's eyes searched your face, his eyes scanned around, some things and items were missing. His signature red that would be mixed into your apartment. It was all gone. Just as he lost his memory, yours was somehow gone as well. "I'm.. Alastor. Don't you remember me, My Doe?"

[loquaciousquark]

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

This week has been hell and now that I'm finally coming to the end of it, I'm going to sit down & enjoy this! Sorry in advance for the length.

My favorite fics vacillate wildly depending on my mood, interest, and the time of year, but right now, I think this is what I've got. In no particular order:

Invicta, Invictus (2016)

Magister AU. Hawke ends up owning Fenris while in Minrathous & they fall in love anyway. This fic was difficult to write for a lot of reasons (a main one just being my fear of not doing justice to the premise and underselling the slavery aspect), and it took nearly a year to finish between the writing itself, the rewriting and additional scenes required from @jadesabre301's beta, and final edits. By the time I started posting I felt confident that I'd written something solid, but despite the otherwise positive response, I did end up receiving a series of extremely angry, lengthy critical comments from someone who basically accused me of perpetuating the glorification of rape, the enslavement of people of color, and the entrenchment of cruelty against victims of sexual assault. (I vividly remember a comparison between Thomas Jefferson & Sally Hemings.)

This came out of the blue from someone I knew & had otherwise quite respected; it was a blow that shook my confidence to the core, despite several wonderful people reaching out to me at the time, and while I finished posting the fic, I completely stopped writing otherwise. I ended up not writing anything of significance for three full years afterwards. It wasn't until I got extremely drunk on a work trip (after a personal dinner, no colleagues around) and went back to my hotel to jot down the first lines of the Hawke-is-rescued-from-the-Fade fic that I even entertained the idea of picking the hobby back up.

Now, looking back after almost ten years, I've long come to terms with her criticism. I've decided that I disagree with her, that I'm actually still okay with what I wrote, and that I'm proud of the work I did in that fic. I think the premise is good and the examination of the social and political structures is sound, and I think the fic does what it needs to where the relationship strains against the societal boundaries around it. Not to mention I think it has some of my best Fenris characterization I ever managed, and some of my better Hawke jokes. I think the letter exchange at the end is effectively poignant even after all this time (though I do wish I'd written Danarius's actual death a little differently), and I still find the ending as they approach Kirkwall very satisfying. I'll also never turn down a chance to let Varania have a moment or two.

I'm proud of this one, and I'm glad I wrote it.

A Midwinter's Carol; in Prose; Being a Ghost Story of Baldur's Gate (2023)

I think this fic has some of my best technical mimicry I've ever managed. I've always enjoyed a good stylistic parroting, but this was the first time I'd attempted Dickens, and I genuinely think I did a good job. 😂 I've always been fascinated by the mechanics of language, and I had a great time spoofing his oddly frank addresses to the reader and his serpentine asides.

It's quite short—less than 10k—but I think it does exactly what it's supposed to, and I'm genuinely proud of some of the AU elements. @eponymous-rose gave me Christmases Past and Present, so I can't lay claim to those (aside from execution), but the way Future's demand resolves & the Thayan book standing in for the door knocker were all mine, and I still think they're genius, ahaha. (I also fully acknowledge that I owe Jade big time for helping me clarify the final deal Astarion strikes.)

I think the wordplay throughout of what it means to be redeemed is well written, and I'm genuinely pleased with the turn of the mood during the Future sequence. I can tell my love of flippant characters having stark face-to-face encounters with gods is probably a little strong at the end, but Megan Whalen Turner was a formative influence, and I still love it the way it came out here. This is a fic that did exactly what I wanted it to from start to finish, and I love rereading it.

I also think Astarion refusing to participate in the narrative and Tav's modern voice against the Dickensian backdrop are utterly hilarious.

Iron Bound (2023)

This is the most ambitious project I've ever tackled, even considering Invicta above. I knew this would be a long fic, and while I'd daydreamed about scenes from it for nearly a decade, I genuinely didn't know if I had the technical ability to execute it the way I wanted. Once I finally, finally, finally sat down to write it, the words came out like butter, and I wrote almost 70k words in two weeks.

This fic was interesting because it included a love triangle, which is not something I have ever had the slightest interest in reading or writing, but I felt the relationships were strong enough between all three pillars that I wanted to give it a shot. I love Hawke & Fenris, obviously, but the Fenris + Sebastian brotherhood is likewise vitally important to me, and I've always treasured the Sebastian + Hawke friendship as well. Getting to examine all three of them closely here was wonderful from start to finish, and I loved looking at where the lines strained and grew lax as they got to know each other.

Likewise, I've also adored characters who have to face the conflict between love and duty, and this premise let me marinate in every part of the idea. Knowing that I'd be able to give them all happy endings—knowing that they'd be rewarded for doing the right thing—was very pat and yet very satisfying, and I enjoyed every minute of the tension before the resolution.

This fic was in many ways an homage to Patricia McKillip, one of my favorite authors, and also a frank wish-fulfillment exercise for me. This is the one where everyone lives. This is the one where no one suffers for too long. Malcolm, Carver, Bethany, Leandra—even Varania and Sebastian and Anders and the dog. Everyone lives. Everyone is happy and loved and fed and secure and will remain so for the rest of their lives, and I remain thoroughly unapologetic for it.

I do think (despite Jade's attempts to correct it) that there's some marked narrative clumsiness in the back third, and with a little distance I can see ways I could have revised the Danarius confrontation and the series of epilogues to hang together more cleanly. There are also some heavy-handed sequences regarding the broader world politics which I think stand out against what is otherwise fairly mature writing, and I wish I'd threaded those through a bit more deftly.

That said, I'm still immensely proud of this project, and once I finish this post I'm probably going to reread it start to finish. 😂

This Lethal Light Falls Softly (2023)

I was very passionate about the central conceit of this fic, and I think it shows. It's cleanly written with no wasted time—even rereading it now for this post, there's only one exchange I'd still tweak—and I'm very happy with the way I wrote the Tav & Astarion relationship at this stage. They're a wholly different beast to Fenris & Hawke, who are friends for seven years before they finally embark on a real relationship; Tav & Astarion know each other maybe a few weeks before they sleep together for the first time, and even with the most generous possible interpretation I don't think the game can take more than a handful of months. This meant I was writing lovers with new-to-me insecurities, and with Astarion's own basketful of bugaboos on top of that, everything felt fresh and exciting and a little terrifying. I think you can feel that energy in the prose, and I really like it.

Aside from that, I'm very happy with the solution I came up with to Astarion's vampirism. It was hardly inventive, but I did feel it was both practical and lore-friendly, and I felt like its cost (Tav's absence for Astarion, the exhaustion and battle and injuries for Tav) balanced out the number of boons it provided. It also made negating the vampiric effects an active, ongoing choice for Astarion, which I deeply prefer over more permanent solutions like True Resurrection or a god restoring him to mortality.

I also just honestly think it's just fun to read. I like Astarion being snippy and short-tempered while still being overjoyed to see Tav alive. I like Tav confronting the idea that Astarion loves her as much as she loves him and that her silent absence was an active harm to him. I think I did a pretty good job setting the scenery and conveying the appropriate atmosphere where it was important, and I think there are some turns of phrase throughout that came out quite lovely.

I also think ending on the button of him seeing himself in the mirror is hilarious. (Not pictured: Tav having to ask him to put down the hand mirror for literal weeks.)

ah! this grief like cold bells ringing (2020)

This is probably the most difficult fic I've written in terms of headspace. COVID's forced isolation was particularly awful for me, and I didn't know how to handle it except to try to write it out of me. This, like Iron Bound, contained something I never thought I'd write (rape/rape aftermath), but the gravity of the situation and the world at the time seemed to demand something likewise grave, and I ended up feeling like it was an appropriate choice. Hawke has been a tool of many kinds for me over the years, and I remain both glad and weirdly grateful for her resilience.

This was also the first fic where I felt like I didn't shy away from or veil Tevinter's atrocities (a necessary artifact of the premise). While it was hard to write, it wasn't hard to write, and looking back I'm glad I made the choices I did; I think to hamstring the severity of the moment would have broken the story's teeth and dampened the recovery which came after. The instinct to quit flinching away was the right one, and I think the fic is better for it.

I also think this is some of the most effective writing of catharsis I've ever managed. When I'm having a really difficult time and need to read a moment of recovery, the second chapter of this fic is always my first stop. I've actually only reread the first chapter a few times since I posted (usually the pain's not the part I need), but I've reread the second chapter a hundred times or more.

I also do think that the style of the prose—a little flatter and more direct than I usually write—came out well, especially given the subject matter. While I'd prefer never to go back to that emotional place, I'm glad this came out of it.

Honorable Mention:

Lacrimosa (2011). Still one of the oneshots I'm proudest of. I think it's technically proficient and emotionally very effective, and I love the structure of it.

A Detailed Accounting of the Rigorous and Remarkable Struggles Faced by One Fereldan Refugee in the Singularly Capricious City of Kirkwall, as Experienced by the Illustrious Author (2022). While the writing is not the best I've ever managed (it began life as a warm-up exercise, after all), it took ten years to finish, and I'm deeply proud of both finishing it and of the execution of several sections.

Find Me a Wayward Sun (2023). I like the emotional complexity of this fic very much. This was the first place where I felt like I really started to understand the dynamic between Tav & Astarion, especially in the complicated back half of Act Two, and I've gone back to it several times when I need to recapture that feeling of confused selfishness and nascent, uncertain affection.

[pantheresssy]

Spending Nights (Abby Anderson/ Reader)

Hello!

This is part 2 of ‘casual’! You can find part 1 in this masterlist! It took me so much time to write this but i did it, im rlly sorry, studying is making my creativity go away. Enjoy!!!

Synopsis: Your friendship with Ellie becomes stronger as you both get to know each other better. From the other side, Abby wasn’t dealing with this too well.

warnings: marijuana use (els), non graphic smut, too much abby and not much of els, angst angst, getting into toxic!abby.

“It smells like shit,”

Blowing the smoke on the air and, for consequence on your face, Ellie looked at you with a smirk. Her eyes were blurred and couldn’t stay in the same place for too long, in a trance with the sensations of marijuana. “But it makes me so fu-cki-ng good. Try.”

You pushed her hand away from your face and twisted your nose, feeling that the smell would make you sick and stick to your hair and clothes. You were in her dorms, with the notebook where she writes her songs open on your lap. Somewhere in the middle of your reading, you discovered a few more things she wrote. Small poetry’s. Most of them were sad, about unrequited loves, death, sadness of abandonment and the loss of a parental love. They were tragically tragic, but still beautiful.

Ellie looked over your shoulder, following your reading. Smiling when you turned your page to see the sweetest song you had ever come close to. She was a real talent, just like you had imagined when you first meet her. “I’ll write one for you.”

“If it’s as good as this one, I’ll say please.” She made a face and leaned back on her seat, taking the marijuana into her mouth.

Ellie blowed and talked at the same time. “This is the worst I’ve written since I started.”

You dismissed her words, outraged by what she had said. When you told her it was the ‘best one she had so far’ she looked a bit offended and gave you a full list of why it was her worst composition. Ellie explained to you all of her creative work and, by the end, you thought you knew more about songs than about your own classes. It was interesting seeing how her eyes shone and her voice became more happy. You could see that she really loved doing what she did.

When you went back to your doorms, not long after, you did with a smile. She really was a great friend, person, and writer. It was curious for you how she gad opened up about what she liked so quickly after knowing you for barely a whole week. But it was good.

The rest of your day, you enjoyed with one of your many books. Laying in bed with it on your chest, being dragged by the words. That’s why, when a knock sounded on your door, you opened it without checking who it was. Thinking it could be Dina — (or Ellie) — you never looked away from the page you were reading, only finding out who truly was when she spoke for the first time.

“Can we talk?” Abby said. At that moment, you regretted not asking who it was first. It’s been days since you last saw her, and you would be laying to yourself if you say that this wasn’t broking your heart even more, but you tried to ignore.

Holding your breath, you swallowed hard before answering: “No. I… I’m not in the mood for talking right now.” Deep down you wanted it, so when you kept talking, you wanted to slap yourself. “Maybe later.”

Abby stepped closer when you make a move to close the door, quickly trying to stop you. And it worked. “I saw you at the party.” There it comes. “Who is she?”

You raised an eyebrow. She had no right to be there questioning you, as if she deserved something. “I’m surprised you went, you never liked those things.” A small pause, “But I guess I should’ve had imagined, you have changed so much in a short time.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and you knew she was looking for what to say next. “Owen invited me”, And oh… oh.

Of course he did. You felt silly, a completely idiot. She never went with you when you asked, always making sure you knew how much she hated going to these things. But with him, that part never really mattered. “I’m glad he managed to change your mind.”

“He didn’t,” She said quickly. “I hated going there. You know this, Y/n. I… I hated even more when I saw you with her.”

An ironic laugh escaped you and you looked at the ground already feeling the tears filling your waterline, obstructing your vision. Abby was the proudest person you had ever seen and, when she said that, you realized that she was there not because she missed you, or because she wanted to apologize for everything she did, but for some jealousy of seeing you with someone other than her. You had to mourn her for the time she thought it was necessary, waiting until she wanted to come and talk to you correctly. Like at that moment.

It was a cycle that she had created and you couldn’t leave. On other occasions the same had happened, but not like that, with a fight so big as that one. You two have never been more than a few hours without talking to each other, and it’s been a long time.

You started poking your thumb, an attempt to keep everything you felt inside you through the soft pain. “You don’t own me any explanations.”

Abby denied. “I do, yes.“

“Look…” You started, letting transpire in your voice and face how tired you were of going around so many times, only to ended up in the same place. “We had the same conversation that day, you said what you wanted to say, what you felt-“

She interrupted you. “I didn’t.”

“So i am asking you to leave.”

As the last word came out of your mouth, you saw her posture fall. She looked sad, worried and younger, totally vulnerable and open for you. And you hated that you felt yourself softening. “Abby,”

She reached out for you and took your hand. You felt the urge to pull off her grip, but gave up in the last second. “Give me one chance.”

Swallowing, you watched as her fingers went to the inner part of your pulse, and you squeezed your eyebrows together. She was close, so close and God, it was good to feel her there. Your walls and anger were down as soon as she stepped even further after seeing your reaction, her lips touching yours.

And you did no move to push her.

Abby was fully inside of your room and closed the door with her feet while her hands gripped your wrist. You joined your lips more to hers, sighing heavily when you realized that you would not be able to let her out, even if you fought with all your strength against your will. Your arms wrapped around her neck and you two walked blindly to your bed, you sitting on the end while she was still standing in front of you, her back bent the kiss wouldn’t end. And you moaned, a sound that came from the back of your throat that seemed so desperate, wanting. But Abby smiled in enjoyment — (and proud).

Your shirt quickly came out of your body, then the rest of your clothes. She pulled you to the middle of the bed and started to kiss, lick and grope each part of you she could reach. Your noises only got louder, this time being followed by hers. And when her fingers went inside you, touching that spongy place that made you see stars, you felt your body shake with goosebumps. You couldn’t deny it anymore, you loved her and loved the way she made you feel.

You were lost on the fog of your orgasm, your mouth was open, trying to catch air for your lungs. She fell at your side on the bed, one of her arms supporting her head while the other supported yours. With the corner of your eye, you could see the smile she held and turned for her, placing your hand on her chest. You could regret it later, being so close to her, so open, letting yourself go so easily. But at that moment, you couldn’t think of anything else but being with her like that for the rest of your days. That’s why, when the words came out of your mouth, you didn’t stop them.

“I missed you,”

She hummed, taking your chin and pulling you into a light kiss. “Me too.” She said. “It was a torture, being away from you and seeing you with… Ellis… Ellie?”

You licked your lips, feeling her taste. “Ellie. Dina introduced us at that party. She’s great. She showed me the songs she writes today.”

Abby’s face fell into something darker, heavier. Jealousy shone back on her and you sank your nails on her skin, trying to pull her back. You knew that if you allowed it, that moment would turn into a discussion just like the other day or worse. She was territorialist and you hated it, especially after having fought with you because of your jealousy and insecurities. “I don’t like her.”

“Do you like anyone?” You asked, fun shining in your eyes and voice.

She kissed you one, two, three times. “You.” With her statement, you smiled big. Abby stroked your cheek, whispering her next words: “Just… can you stay away from her? For me, please.”

Just like that, your expression twisted in a grimace. “That’s why you’re here? To fuck me and try to say with who you want me to hangout with?” You got up and started to put your clothes back on. “Get out, Anderson.”

She faced you. “She clearly wants you, Y/n.” You laughed indignantly. “I won’t let her fuck with you.”

“Like you did that day? She won’t do it, Abby. And you know why? Because Ellie doesn’t hide what she feel, she doesn’t yell and curse when a problem pops up.” Your chest gasped with your words said in one breath. “Leave, now. You’ve stayed too much already.”

You pointed to the door, lowering your head and listening to her wear her clothes. Abby walked up to you and stopped in front of you. “I fucking tried to do this better. You can’t blame me now.”

How much you hated that situation, to be dragged by those words. The pain you felt before was nothing compared to the one you felt at that moment. “That’s all that matters to you, isn’t it? Making me feel bad so you can go over me?”

“I fucking like you, Y/n! That’s why I don’t want you with her.” Her finger wrapped around a lock of your hair and gave a slight pull.

You walked away and rubbed your hands on your face. “And you show it by trying to put someone I like as a friend away? Just go, Abby.”

“I ain’t giving up on you.”

She left with one last look and you closed the door as soon as she passed through the threshold, sniffling when the tears fell and your body was shaken with strong hiccups. You felt nothing but stupid. You knew that at some point everything would go down, but you didn’t knew it would be so quick, — not after everything.

You really thought that things would settled down, after just a few minutes and a moment with her at the bed. You thought you would go back to spending nights with her, smiling and kissing. Abby could make a fool out of you so easily. Sometimes you think you might hate her.

And this is the end!

I really wish I could write more than 2k but at some point I just start to repeat words/expressions and I have a tick with this. Hope you had enjoyed this ride and be patient with me for part 3 plss it will come out! Thank you for all of your comments!! As always, I’m sorry for any mistake.

taglist: @pinkpanther-44, @elsmissingfingers, @sofi4v13, @bready101, @mattxxamryli.

[asmutwriter]

Just A Woman (Part 1 Section 1)

DESCRIPTION: You work at the local brothel, trying to get enough money to survive the difficult time period. But then a customer gives you an offer you can’t refuse. 

A/N - I have condensed partr 1 (which you can find here) into 4 smaller chunks so that you can have a better reader experience

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

WORD COUNT: 2659

Next / Master List

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of prostitution, time period sexism, mentions of sex work

DISCLAIMERS

- I wrote this in my knowledge of sex workers and I am truly sorry if I got it wrong and/or is offensive, that is not what I wanted to do and I’m sorry if that is the case

-  This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

You go back into the house, a young girl reading a book comes out. You smile and tap her on the shoulder, as she turns to look at you. You grab the book from her hand and run from her.

“Isa!” she yells and chases you

“’Oh and the love of my life did say to me you shall be mine and I’m forever yours’“. You read before she grabs it from you, glaring at you “I can’t believe you read all that soppy stuff”

“It’s romantic”

“It’s slightly sickening”

“I can’t help it if you’re inexperienced in the ways of love” you laugh

“’Oh my dear, I love you and I can’t picture my life without you. Let’s have 20 babies and then I’ll find a nice, younger woman who I can run away with and leave you with my children’. I think that’s love this day and age right?” you chuckle

“Or more like-” she picks her book up “’my dearest love. I think of thee as I watch the sun rise and the moon set and wonder, is this what our lives our like? Destined to be so distant. Only being able to share a few seconds with each other before we must spend our time apart again’“

“Sickening”

“Romantic” you chuckle as you look outside

“Speaking of moons and suns, our sun is setting. So go get into bed. We are to rise early tomorrow. Or as your book would likely say ‘our eyes are destined to bewitch each other one more time before we know we are truly in love’“

“You must’ve read her book before” another girl walks out, sticking her tongue out at her sister. You laugh

“Come on. Bed. All of you!” you yell. 3 more girls walk out of the kitchen, flour covering them “Daisy, can you go get your sister from outside. Guys” you pause, looking at the state of the three of them and letting out a soft chuckle “What happened?”

“It was her fault” they all say in unison and point at each other. You roll your eyes

“Just, get changed and go to bed. I have work tonight so I’ll be back late. If you guys are up when I get back you’ll be in trouble. I’ll eat all of your chocolate” you smile and tickle one of the girls who laughs as you carry her to the bedroom. “Dressed and bed. I’m leaving Daisy in charge of you” you go and grab a bag and a coat “I’ll see you all later, love you all” you blow kisses to them, seeing the eldest as you walk out “I’ve left you in charge. Make sure they are all in bed by the time I get home. And lock the door behind me. I’ve got my key so you’re ok” you smile and kiss her forehead before walking to work.

You let out a small sigh as you reach the brothel doors. You go inside, men and woman grinding on each other as you go to the backroom where you can get dressed. You smile at one of the girls whose smoking. She offers it to you, taking it and having a few puffs as she speak “quite a lot of people tonight. I reckon we might get lucky enough to have them spend out a bit more tonight on us, what do you think?” you nod and hand her cigarette back, exhaling the smoke.

“Hopefully some men who think with their dicks and not their brains” you both laugh as you get into your clothes for the night. You go out, eyeing up a few gentlemen as they walk past. You walk over to a man sitting alone. “Hey there handsome” you sit next to him, hand gently resting on his. He smiles at you slightly, drinking from a glass. “Ooh what drink do you have?”

“Whiskey. Helps settle my nerves” 

“Why are you nervous?”

“I’ve never been in a brothel before” he admits to you. You chuckle slightly, stroking his hand with the tip of your finger

“I can show you how it works if you want” he shakes his head

“I’d quite like to just chat to you to be honest” he takes another sip of his drink “what’s your name?”

“What do you want it to be?” he raises an eyebrow at you. You let out a soft sigh

“It’s Isabella. Most of my friends call me Isa though” he nods

“John” you nod.

“What brings you here John? I assume you aren’t here for the obvious reason that is” he takes the last of his drink, ordering another one. 

“I normally live in France but I am here for business reasons. I leave for France again on Tuesday. I’m currently at a place just down the road from here” you nod

“Are you staying with family?” he shakes his head

“No. It’s just a house a bought as my vacation home” he chugs his drink “my mother is coming over the weekend as well as some family friends. She’s arranged a ball for everyone” you nod slightly. After a few more drinks he turns to you, a look of seriousness on his face “Isa. I know we’ve just met and I don’t mean this in a harsh way and I want you to know that you are gorgeous, but I’m not going to have sex with you. But-” he places his finger to your lips, to hush you from words you weren’t going to say “but I have another offer for you. The reason my mother has arranged a ball is so that I can find a woman. However, I have no interest in finding myself a woman. But, if I have a woman she thinks I am seeing she will be happy” he smiles at you “would you do me the honour of letting me court you for a week? I will pay you” he write down a number on a piece of paper “in cash”

“I- oh my god...” you look at the number but swallow sadly “I’m sorry. I can’t leave my family for a whole week. I’m the oldest one and Id worry too much” he nods

“The weekend then. Mother comes on Saturday, so come Friday and leave Monday” you nod slightly

“I will have to check in with my family but… yes.” he smiles as he hug you. 

“I will meet you here in 2 days” he smiles at you as he stands and walks out. You look at the number he wrote down and squeal in excitement. 

You practically run home. You open the door and hear scurrying. You turn and see the girls had been having a mini party by the looks of it. A fort was built from blankets. You fold your arms and pretend to be annoyed. “Sorry Isa” you chuckle, to buzzed from your work night to care.

“I have some amazing news for you all” you show them the number on the piece of paper “guess how much I’m going to get payed this weekend”

“Holy shit”

“Holy shit indeed” the second oldest daughter takes the paper and looks at it. 

“We’re going to be rich”

“How are you getting payed that much?”

“A kind man said he wanted me to be there to impress his mother and friends at a ball this weekend so I will be going to his. Is that ok with all of you? Daisy, you’ll be in charge for a few days” you look at her and she nods. You hug her “you are such a brave girl” you kiss the top of her head “I love you”

“I love you too” you hug her and her 5 sisters, “Were going to be so rich!” you all smile and cheer.

-

It’s Thursday night. You are at work. You went through all the things for Daisy and her sisters. Showing her how to wash their clothes if they get too grubby and where to place the fresh eggs from your chickens. You share a cigarette with the same friend from a few days ago. “I still think you’re mad. What if he murders you? Who will I be able to gossip with then?” she nudges you as you chuckle

“If he does murder me though, can you look after the girls? I know it’s a lot to ask but if I thought I’d left them alone and they didn’t have anyon-”

“I’ll be glad to look after them” she hugs you “I knew I should’ve talked to him first. Dammit” you laugh at her. Seeing the man you hug your friend

“Goodbye my love” you smile at her as you leave her

“I’ll see you Monday night ok?” she nods and waves at you as you go to the man. He smiles at you 

“M’lady” he offers you his hand as you go into the carriage he brought. You sit and look out the window, in pure shock at how perfect the materials are. You’re in even more shock when you approach the house. 

“Fuck it’s huge!” he laughs as he leads you in

“We will have our own rooms. I also should tell you that some of my friends are staying over with my mother as it is a very long trip for them” you nod and look around

“This is amazing” you look at him and smile, biting your lip

“My friends are coming around midday tomorrow. I have found some dresses for you and placed them in your room” he leads you upstairs to a room “your room. The dresses are hanging in the wardrobe. I hope they are comfortable and to your liking. I shall bid you farewell and see you tomorrow” he bows slightly and leaves. You squeal and jump excitedly. Clasping your hands together as you run over and collapse onto the bed. Loving the feeling of the soft sheets on your skin. You undress and go over to the wardrobe, finding a nightgown you place it on your body. Getting into bed and falling asleep.

You wake late the next day. You stretch as you see the sun high in the sky. You get out of bed, placing a robe over your body you go downstairs. Seeing it is nearly 11 you see John and nudge him as you sit next to him on the sofa “You didn’t wake me”

“I thought you might want some rest so I told the servants to not bother you and let you wake on your own” you look at him

“You have servants?” he nods

“I do”

“Fuck me...” you whisper. He chuckles

“Our guests will be here soon. Friends about midday but mother will join us for dinner” you nod

“I should get dressed then?” he nods. You go upstairs and shut the door. No more than 10 seconds goes past when a knock on the door happens

“Umm miss” a young lady walks in “I’m here to help you dress”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m your handmaiden for the weekend” 

“Fuck he is rich isn’t he?” she giggles slightly at your words as you take your night dress off. Helping you clothe yourself and brush your hair, or more just watching you do it yourself as you insist that she doesn’t need to help you if she doesn’t want to. Once you finish you hear horses outside. Suddenly nervous you turn to the maid “how do I look?”

“You look beautiful miss” you nod and go downstairs. John waits at the bottom of the stairs, holding his arm out for you to take. You do so as he walks you both to the door to open it. 

“Lady Bridgerton!” he smiles and greets the woman stepping out of the cart. You suddenly go shy as you notice multiple people getting out of the carriages. You grip the man’s arm slightly tighter with a slight fear. He pats your hand in comfort “This is Isabella” you smile at the family, averting your eyes down. You’d feel a lot more confident if you could wear clothes that fitted you slightly better. 

“Ahh yes. We’ve heard wonderful things about you” she smiles at you and hugs you

“You have?” she nods and places a hand either side of your face

“That you are talented and funny. He never mentioned how beautiful you were though” you chuckle slightly at the compliment. They all go inside as John whispers to you

“See? Not so bad” you nod as you all go to the dining room so you can all sit together for lunch. John sits opposite you, a man you believe to be Anthony sits one side and the other side sits a girl who you think is called Eloise. The mother, named Violet you know for certain, sits next to John. She smiles at you 

“How did you two meet?”

“Umm...”

“It was an extremely romantic encounter. She was out at a park one day and I literally just bumped into her” you laugh and snort slightly, hand covering our mouth as all of the Bridgerton family looks at you “Sorry, she gets a bit overwhelmed by our first meeting” you nod and take a sip of your drink

“It was just like every girls dream”

After food the day goes past quickly as you read away most of the afternoon. John calls you all to go into a living room. You go and sit, smoothing out the fabric of your dress as you feel one of the older brothers sit next to you. You look up to see the second oldest by you, watching the door as he slumps slightly in his seat. “I’m sorry I’ve completely forgotten your name” you admit to him.

“Benedict” you nod and smile at him

“It’s nice to meet you. Have you met his mother before?” he nods and looks at you, noticing your hands smoothing your dress

“She is a kind woman, you have nothing to worry about” you laugh slightly

“Only the fact I’m meeting a random woman that I know nothing about”

“Has John not told you about her before then?” you look at him as he smiles slightly to you. You stay silent before he whispers to you “you look fine”. Just as the woman in question walks in. She smiles at everyone as she beams at you

“Oh my dear!” she exclaims. She nearly runs over to you “stand. Let me see all of you” you stand up “yes. Oh you and my son will make beautiful children together”

“Pardon?” - “Mother!” you both say in unison

“Oh. You have a beautiful face my dear. How old are you?”

“20″

“And how do you feel about children?”

“I believe children are a wonder to this world. I babysit my friend’s children all the time” she smiles and clasps her hands together

“You are just divine” she sits opposite you and beckons you to sit again, which you do. You feel Benedict smirking beside you at your obvious awkwardness.  “Do you sing my love?”

“I do but I wouldn’t say I do it very well” you smile at her

“Do sing! I want to hear your voice”

“Oh no. I don’t like singing in public”

“Please. I do not mind what you sing” you nod slightly and scratch the back of your neck. You avoid eye contact with them all as you sing softly “speak up my dear. No one likes a girl who mumbles” you sing louder. Finishing they all clap

“I’ve not heard that song” the eldest son says

“I hope not, I made it up myself”

“You made that?” the eldest sister asks as you nod

“It’s not the best one I’ve done but it’s the one of the few I can remember all the words to” you pick your nails, slightly embarrassed by the praise they are all giving you. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[live-laugh-lenney]

hello !! this is a little late (dw abt it) but i can't shake the thought out of my head abt arthur birthday ,,,, spoiling him bcs he's an old man now and he deserves it! i feel like he'd like the attention and pampering esp coming from a huge family it would be nice for an entire day just for him aka arthurtv birthday blurb where (i wrote arthurtv birthday smut but ,,, that will stay in the drafts)

-🍓

yn makes the whole day about him.

she decorates his living room with numbered balloons and 'birthday boy' and 'happy birthday' banners that she hid in george's flat the day before and she hangs streamers from his ceiling and, sure, she may have gone a tad overboard on decorating his flat for the day but the look on his face when he saw the effort she put in was something she wished she pictured.

she piles up her presents for him on the kitchen table alongside a huge buffet breakfast that she surprises him with - eggs in all forms because she couldn't decide the best one, lots of toast, sausages and plenty of bacon steaming on a plate, smashed avocado in a bowl with all of his salt and pepper and different seasonings and sauces next to it, with bowls of cubed fruit and a plate piled high with thick and fluffy pancakes sitting with a candle in the middle.

she books them and their closest friends into a fancy restaurant with bottomless drinks and delicious foods, letting him have his moment with his friends as they celebrate him spending another year around the sun. and he's so thankful and surprised to have a girlfriend who organises something so loving and incredible for him.

she organises a facetime call with his family and surprises him, on call with them, that she's brought him tickets to fly home and see them for a couple of weeks and that she's been in cahoots with his family whole time so that they knew of her plans and were able to help her out... having taken care of his youtube and work schedule and letting chris and those he films with that he would be absent for two weeks so he could have some personal time off.

they end the night in his flat, inviting george and arthur and chris over for a few drinks and takeaway because he felt so exhausted and just wanted a chilled out night with those he loved and felt closest to. the boys bringing him a cake and they sing 'happy birthday' to him as he blows out the candles.

"did you have a good day?"

he nods and brings her closer to his side, her cheek flush upon his naked chest and her palm flat upon his stomach, exhaling a slow and deep breath from deep within.

"the best day," he says softly and she looks up at him, "thank you for organising everything."

"i figured that the boys will take you out this weekend for a heavy one before you go off to jersey for two weeks so i thought that we could celebrate slowly today," she admits and presses a kiss to his cheek, "i'm glad you enjoyed it though."

"you did good," he claims and looks at her with darkened eyes, "but you know what would make it even better?"

"one step ahead of you," she grins widely and she hooks a leg over his waist and straddles his hips, hands on his shoulders as she braces her weight upon him and she can see the blush on his cheeks begin to form, "just sit back, let me do all the work tonight." xx

[homestuckreplay]

Boondollar Financial Crisis Imminent

(page 877-885)

Rose Lalonde is an absolute hero and a fool. With three minutes left until meteor impact and no safe place left to escape to, she logs into Sburb to check on John. And THEN begins explaining what she’s learned about meteors to him. John is so right to say ‘um, ok. i don't really think i get it. is this relevant?’ (p.880) I think both these two are smart and good at solving problems, but Rose is the only one who needs to provide a lengthy explanation of how and why she did it.

People in Homestuck sure love ascending and descending recently. I’ve found all the examples so far, and everyone’s had the chance to ascend, but so far only Rose and Jade have also descended. Also, the two most recent of these – [S] Jade: Descend and [S] Rose: Ascend – have both linked back to John’s rooftop battle.

page 660 John: Ascend to the highest point of the house.

665 [S] Dave: Ascend to the highest point of the building.

757 [S] WV: Ascend.

788 Jade: Ascend.

879 [S] Rose: Ascend.

840 Rose: Descend.

843 [S] Jade: Descend

Navigating via the Sburb interface is a moment where the second person perspective really pays off. I sure am Rose Lalonde right now. It’s also effective at showing us the state of John’s house (even more destroyed by imps and oil, windows broken, chunks of wall on the alchemiter, but no more ogres yet) without John himself having to run around and look.

The end of this fight is incredible. Nannasprite is the MVP, apparently able to make a ghost duplicate of anything in the house and a giant laser. She puts John in the oven. She puts him in the oven like a cookie???? Rose also helps out by dropping a fridge (ultimate bludgeoning weapon) and bouncing John, easily the bounciest of the four kids, off the alchemiter. But they’re both careful to give John the killing blow and therefore the experience points. He comes out triumphant, surrounded by grist bigger than he is, streaked with tar instead of blood. The silly elements, the teamwork, and the more comical antagonist of the ogre all combine to make this the opposite of Dave’s fight, where he was fighting alone, attacked by the person who should be supporting him, and ended up getting thrown down the stairs with no reward.

New grist!!!! The ogres drop both tar and mercury. If John has mercury and Jade has uranium, I wonder what highly dangerous element Rose and Dave will end up with. And with his level ups, John is now a Boy-Skylark, something I can’t help linking to ‘heir of breath’ – air, flying, sky, birds – especially as Nanna mentions the Sassacre prophecy just a few pages later.

I think it’s possible to interpret the spritelog on page 885, and Nanna holding the old Sassacre book in her aura, as her adding the message to the front right now. But I still think she wrote it when John was very young – page 759 is written as though Nanna is vague on how John will grow up – he is ‘no doubt’ handsome and strapping, but it’s unconfirmed – and there ‘will come a day’ when John goes on an adventure, but it’s written as if in the future. Also, if she were writing this now, I think Nanna’s words would appear in glowing blue ink because her powers seem to work like that.

The key insight from this spritelog, I think, is that when John goes through the first gate, ‘everything will change. You will find the place where the constellations dance beneath the clouds. And then your true work may begin’ which suggests that instead of building straight up, each gate will take John to a different location, and maybe he needs to find his way back to the house in order to build up again. This ‘true work’ is surely connected to the Ultimate Riddle, the point of all this that John still needs to find out (p.425) which is entirely unclear to me, the reader. Between the meteors, other planets, various chess piece entities, and mystical predictive powers, it feels like whatever is going on is too alien for regular human logic, made by something with a completely different understanding of existence.

This image from page 884 is so ominously composed. The soulless gray roof stretching off into the empty wasteland and John’s dark silhouette reaching out to it is incredibly eerie, a real reminder of how isolated John is. Now if I’m not mistaken, this is the hole John looked up through on page 539 – the one leading to his dad’s room. And that page was also composed with a lot of gravity, really trying to make what’s inside that hole feel important. But this time, Rose isn’t around to tell John not to go in. This could be a big moment for John, and we cold finally learn the truth about Dad’s business clown troupe.

John’s ‘do you think that instead of telling me exactly why that is with a clear explanation, you can give me a series of really coy riddles about it and then sort of giggle?’ (p.885) is holding hands with Rose’s ‘I require a font of frighteningly accurate yet infuriatingly nonspecific information. Do you know where I can find a wellspring of this sort?’ (p.838). It does help that they’re all written by the same person but it’s sweet to me when the kids talk like each other; I know I pick up turns of phrase from my friends so it really helps establish the closeness between them.

> John: Attempt to captchalogue a unit of build grist.