#but i guess i'm still learning as i write

[mxrcielaguito]

Oh boi, I've been wanting to write Elliott x Farmer for a while so here we go:

Based off one of the comments of the original post

"I would suggest we make time for a little 'rendezvous' in my old cabin... But I'm afraid it's become rather... Musty... In my absence" Elliott says. I'd like to think he's being playful but I can't really tell. His words are mischievous but his eyes seem melancholic. I mean, well, he writes angsty stuff all the time, why would this be any different, he loves feeling melancholic. He's an overemotional drama queen, and that's pretty much why I fell for him in the first place. But something's off today.

I look at him, up and down. Wouldn't be the first time we escape a social gathering and make time for ourselves. I work relentlessly. He writes relentlessly. Our kids mess around the house relentlessly, too.

"Why not?" I suggest. "It's not like anyone's paying attention."

His green eyes widen, his face blushes for just an instant and I recognize his look. He bites his lower lip, grabs my arm and pulls me into the cabin so quickly I can't even react. As soon as I step into the cabin I understand what he meant by "musty". The air feels heavy, humid, and the wood is starting to decay. His old piano is still there; withering away.

He locks the door behind us and I can already feel his heavy breath. I can't help but find it cute. It's been three years and he still gets all hot and bothered. He's turning his back on me, his hand still on the door knob.

"Elliott? Are you all right?" I ask.

"I have really neglected this place, haven't I..." He murmurs. "It's- it's not romantic at all, I-..."

"Love, it's okay, I don't mind" I try to reassure him, rubbing his back. Something's wrong but I'm not can't put my finger on it. "It's been quite some time since the last time you came here, huh."

Elliott laughs nervously and forces himself to let go of the door knob. He turns around and looks at his cabin, his eyes scanning every corner.

"I really used to live like this, didn't I?"

"I didn't know this place brought you bad memories", I say, my voice soft, almost a whisper. I know we don't talk much; my words are usually rather scarce, I can't remember the last time we sat and spoke to each other. I'd rather listen, but Elliott doesn't speak too much, either.

He runs a hand through his copper hair.

"Once upon a time, there lived a man by the sea..." Elliott speaks quietly, absently. "He dreamed of fame and greatness; he dreamed of people remembering his name. However, that day never came, and his little cabin by the sea, he let it rot away."

I frown, trying to make a meaning off of this.

"My father bought this cabin a long time ago, we used to have our vacation here, when I was a kid. With time I guess we all forgot about it, then I remembered it when he kicked me out."

My eyes widen.

"He... Kicked you out? Why am I learning about this just now?!"

"Well, he wasn't happy when I said I wasn't pursuing a career in the family business." Elliott runs his hand through the dusty desk, then fidgets around with an old inkwell. The ink has been dry for a very long time. "I didn't have much money. I was running out when I met you."

"That part, I remember, yeah", I reply.

"It's not that this cabin holds bad memories, as you said. It just a reminder of almost everything that hasn't worked out in my life. All the scrapped manuscripts. All the arguing with my father. All the times I stayed up late, trying to come up with the perfect plot, the perfect words, the perfect... Everything" he closes his eyes and sighs. I look at him and take his hand in mine. I love it: it's so soft. "And then, one day, you showed up and took care of that old farm nobody cared about. And you took care of me..."

He leans his head over mine. His hair tickles my nose, and it smells like pomegranate shampoo.

"I can take care of this place, too" I suggest, trying to cheer him up. "Just like I did with the farm."

"No, no. This place is mine to bear, not yours. However I would like to take your example and make this old place something worth the effort. Something out kids will be happy inheriting."

I look up at him and smile.

"Yeah? You wanna do that?"

Elliott smiles and nods. I feel his hand make its way through my eternally sore back to my waist. I rest my hand on his, fidgeting with his wedding ring.

"It's not that musty", I tease, after a very long silence. "The bed's still in good shape."

When you're just trying to make some goddamn soup but Elliott wants to have sex in his mouldy ass cabin.

[hard-core-super-star]

brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.

That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive. 

The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.

Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.

It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.

(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)

You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.

Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.

She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.

Well, except because you really missed Wanda.

Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.

Your bed.

That was the second thing Natasha made you learn. 

Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.

That was the third thing you learned.

Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.

It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.

You didn't understand how real that was until now.

Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.

You were theirs.

You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.

A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."

"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your grip on me begs to differ."

At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."

 It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.

Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.

Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.

After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.

"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."

Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"

You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.

However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.

"Yes, Daddy. I know."

She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"

You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."

Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.

"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.

"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."

"Good. Thank you, Friday."

The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.

"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"

You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.

You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.

In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.

Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.

"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."

You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.

You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.

The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.

"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."

Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.

"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"

"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."

The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."

"When are you going to let that go?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."

Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.

Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.

They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.

Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."

"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

"I'm talking to all of you."

"Nice save, 'Tasha."

"Shut up."

There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.

"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"

You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.

"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.

"I'm guessing this means training's going well."

"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."

The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.

It's far too fun.

"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.

You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.

Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."

"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.

A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Oh, I will."

Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.

Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.

Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."

You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.

You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.

Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.

The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.

"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."

"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"

You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.

Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.

"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."

The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.

"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"

"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"

The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.

You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.

"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.

You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.

Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."

Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.

"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."

"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."

"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."

The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."

Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.

"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."

You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.

"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."

Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.

You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.

The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.

They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.

"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."

"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."

That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.

Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.

Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"

Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."

The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.

Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.

"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.

Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"

"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."

"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.

Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"

The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."

You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."

The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding. 

Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."

"Don't rush her, little witch."

Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."

A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.

But the Widow really can't help herself.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."

Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.

Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.

Your bed.

With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Golfing Lessons

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, diva! reader, teasing, public sex, kissing/making out, fingering, hand job, P in V, groping, nipple play, natural masturbation,

𖤐Summary: You decided to join Price on the green today

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Price was looking at himself in the bathroom mirror making sure the collar of his shirt was looking neat. As he walks downstairs getting his golfing shoes on and making sure he had his golfing bag in the back of his car, the front door open, his back still turned but knew who it was.

"Love, I'm heading out for a few rounds of golf," he says, closing his trunk and then finally turning around to see his wife in a golfing outfit, a white polo like his, a white short skirt, her hair up in a ponytail and wearing some golfing shoes like Prices.

"Woah," he says. "Where you going?"

"Joining you," she says.

"Me?"

"Yeah," she opens the passenger door and gets in. "Unless you and your mistress are planning to do some...rounds together."

"Mistress? What mistress?" He asked, looking into the car from his rolled down window.

"So then you won't mind me joining."

"Of course not, love," he says, getting into the car. "Guess you're going to be renting clubs then?"

"Yeah, guess so...with your card," she shows off his card between her fingers.

"Oh great," he smirks and backs out of the driveway.

--------------

Getting to the golf course, Price signs in and Y/n went to the renting counter to rent some clubs, and rent a golf cart.

Price picked up the hobby of golfing after he retired from the military, he did started playing it with his friends Gaz, Soap and Roach and loved the idea of playing golf every Saturday and will be gone for most of the day, but why does Y/n want to join all of a sudden?

Y/n has her feet up on the seat as she was looking down at her book on her lap as Price drove the golf cart to the first hole, there wasn't many people out today which was weird, it was a nice day to be playing golf, but guess people had better plans.

Y/n had her face back down in the book while Price did his first swing, he turns back around and looks at his wife.

"Your turn, love," he says.

"That's great, I don't know how to swing the club," she says, still looking down.

"Love, you wanted to join, you rented the clubs, you get to swing and learn," he says, putting his club back in his bag and getting one from Y/n's rentals. "Come on," he says, she puts her bookmark in between the pages and got off the cart and stood next to her husband.

He held the club and motioned her to stand between his arms, his hands resting on hers.

"Now...3...2...1," they swing hitting the ball and it landing farther than Price's ball.

"Oh, do I win?" She asked.

"No, not yet, and you have to get the lowest score to win."

"Why the lowest?" She asked as they get back into the cart.

"I don't know, the lower the strokes just shows how good you are."

"Oh," she says, cocking up her eyebrows and looking at him.

"Hush," he says, pointing his finger at her almost like he was telling her to 'behave'. They got close to their balls and Price hit his again, getting it into the hole.

"Write par."

"Par?"

"2, write 2 for me. Come here, your turn." He says. She gets out of the cart and grabs her club and walking to her ball just tapping it in.

"2!" She says, excitedly.

Moving onto the next hole, Price and Y/n had to wait their turn, they got stuck behind two old men, Price leans on the wheel and Y/n still had her face down in her book.

Price leans over to see what she was reading.

"What's this one about?"

"Enemies to lovers, she hates him, he loves her, both actually hiding their feels for one another."

"Cheesy," he says.

"You asked."

"I know. Wish these two would hurry it up," he grumbles under his breath. She just shrugs and looks at her pages. Price's hand then went to her thigh, leaning back and wishing these guys would hurry the fuck up.

He looks down at his hand resting on her thigh and then slowly moved it up his pinkie and ring fingers were just slightly under her skirt, she didn't push his hand away but left it on her bare smooth skin.

He scoots a big closer to her, putting his arm around her waist and his hand now on her hip gently patting her and slowly moving his fingers back under her skirt and then feeling her wet clothed pussy.

"Price, now?" She looks up at him.

"If these twos don't hurry it up, I will turn this cart around and fuck you in the car or...I fuck you here, and let them hear your moans. I'm starting to like the idea of fucking you right here and right now." He says.

Y/n just looks up at him and smiles at him, she closed her book and placed it on the little cubby, and then she shimmies her pink panties off and pulled her skirt up exposing her now bare pussy. She then looks at the older men seeing them leave, Price was just looking down admiring her.

"They're gone," she tells him.

"Huh?" He looks up and grumbles that his plan was fumbled, he grabs a club, a tee and a ball and gets himself set up, lining his club at the ball and in one swing hitting it. He comes back into the cart and sits in the driver seat but Y/n had gotten out to do her swing. Grabbing a club, tee and ball and hits the ball with no problem.

As she swung, her skirt went up with the wind exposing a bit of her butt. He brings his hand to his face and drags it down, wanting her now.

As she gets back into the cart, smiling up at Price and shows off how wet she was now, rubbing her fingers between her wet folds exposing how much she was wet.

"Hurry it up, old man," she teased him. He just scoffs, stuck behind the same old men from before. Price doesn't say anything this time, instead he leans over Y/n cupping her face and starts heavily making out with Y/n not caring if people saw or if these sick old men did.

Price starts feeling Y/n thighs and then feeling her wet clit, she moans into the kiss and bucks her hips up, Price smirks and shoves his middle and ring finger inside of her with no warning.

She moans putting her head back and Price grabbed a handful of her hair putting her head back and smirking when she moans out his name, he released her hair and her hands went under his shirt feeling up his hairy chest and toned stomach and chest.

"You're gonna get us kicked out if you keep moaning like that, love," Price says with a smirk on his face.

"Yeah right," she says, kissing his lips.

Price then starts messing with his belt, unbuckling it and unbuttoning his pants, he gives himself a few pumps and then takes her hand and places it on his dick.

"Pump me, baby," he whispers close to her ear. She bites her bottom lip and does what he asked, giving him a few pumps as he watches to make sure no one will see them. His hands resting the cushion they sat on and the other on the windshield of the cart.

He looks down just for a moment seeing her thumb run over his tip, he groans, biting his bottom lip to hold back his moans, Y/n was then playing with the pre-cum that leaked from his tip.

"Hang on, love," he says, as he starts moving the cart. Y/n doesn't stop pumping though, moving her hand a bit faster, he moans and stops the cart. "Love," he says again.

"Should I stop?" She asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

"I want to keep going I do, but we need to stop so, we can finish our game."

"Fine then," giving him some good pumps and then releasing her hand from his dick. He fixes himself and goes to swing. He hated this, why couldn't they have waited till they got home?

"Love, come here." She was confused, but got out of the cart and walked to him.

"Yeah?"

"Grab your club and ball...and hit...in the woods," he points his club to the thick woods.

"Why would I do that?" She asked. Grabbing her club and ball.

"Because I can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?" She smiles.

"Love," his eye narrow as he looks at her.

"Okay," she says, putting her ball down, wiggling her butt a little and swung her club. "Oh no...my ball," she sounded annoyed with her fake acting. "John, I need to go get my ball," she says, walking to the woods.

"Let me come and help you, love," he says, coming behind her.

Y/n found her ball and showed Price. "Found it."

"Good," he pushed her against a nearby tree, picking her up making her drop her ball and club to the ground. He attacks her neck as she moans and smiles.

"AH! Price," she moans, her arms tightening around his neck, and her legs tightening around his waist. "Fuck," his hot breath tickled her skin.

"We'll make this quick," he says.

He unbuckles his pants and fishes out his cock again, a few pumps before entering Y/n, she put her head back hitting the tree, Price moved his hand from guiding himself inside of her to behind her head so she doesn't hit the tree again. He thrusts up into her.

"God you feel so good," he groans close to her ear. "God, you should come join me more often," he says with a cocky smirk on his face.

"No...y-you're boring," she says with a joking smile.

"Oh I'm boring?" He says. He kisses her lips again, he moves her from the tree to the ground now.

"Not the ground," she coos. He just smirks placing her on the ground, his hands holding her waist and she moans while holding up her polo and exposing her bra, she moves the straps off her shoulders and starts groping herself.

Price smiles loving as she groped herself and how her fingers pinched her sensitive nipples. Price leaned forward taking her left nipple in his mouth sucking and biting her nub.

She moans. "F-Fuck," she cursed.

"Oh, I'm so close, baby," he says. She moans when feeling his thrusts start to get sloppy.

"P-Price," she moans. Y/n tightening around his dick, he gives a few more sloppy thrusts and ended up coming inside of her. He pulls out as cum leaked on the ground.

They both got themselves situated Price making sure Y/n looked how she looked before, and they same with Y/n helping Price, they acted like they "found" Y/n's ball and went back to their cart.

"Shall we end the game?" Price asked.

"No way...I'm having too much fun," she says putting her panties back on.

-------------

Price and Y/n had gave everything they rented back to the golf course, Price and Y/n got into Price's car. Y/n looks over at Price who started his car and started back out of his spot.

"So am I allowed to come join you now?" She asked.

"If you do the same shit you just did today then anytime, love," he smirks grabbing her chin and kissed her lips.

"Then next Saturday?"

"Of course, my love."

-------------

Next Saturday

Price had Y/n in the cart, she was on her stomach, ass poking out of the cart, her skirt lifted up exposing her nice round ass, panties pulled to the side, and Price was using her as he pleased, this time Y/n wasn't playing but instead keeping Price company.

Roach, Gaz and Soap had plans today, so he asked her to come with. She was just sitting in the cart with her book open reading it quietly as Price was swinging his clubs, but Price got hard while watching her read, which was weird, he's seen her read before and never got turned on before, so this was new. He stopped playing just to have her bend over in the cart and please him.

"Fuck me, baby," Price says.

"Faster," she moans out.

"How the fuck are we even still in here?" Price mumbled to himself.

Price soon came inside of Y/n pulling out and watched cum leak from her, he smirks when moving her panties back over, and put her skirt back down.

"Keep reading, love," he says, tapping her ass.

She just smiles at him and grabs her book off the cart floor and picks up where she left off like nothing had happen.

[incorrectfatui]

okay, more HCs. This one is only Scara, so things might get a lil dark- I'm not normal about him. anywho: Scaramouche: -autistic. I am going to say this about every Harbinger, bc it's the truth. -most traumatized mfer in all of Teyvat. Seriously. someone give this guy a licensed therapist. -as Kabukimono, he's tried to eat several non edible items. This one is inspired by that one researcher who made up a story about him eating a humans arm. The image of little Scara munching on various dangerous items is so cute -related to the above: he still does it sometimes, to fuck with people. Dottore thinks its great. Pierro had to stop him from getting Kuni to eat a delusion. -Eyes (& markings) always glow at least slightly, even if he's not using his powers. Its not really noticeable in the day, but at night you can see it pretty well -hates Pantalone. Not bc he's jealous of him hanging out with Dottore or something (if anything, Pantalone gets jealous), but just because he is an ass. -Went to the Abyss again for a long time, just after Arlecchino became a Harbinger, and kind of forgot that Crucy was replaced. Came back and was like "who the FUCK- oh right". Why? because I think its funny -In general, has a better relationship with most of the female Harbingers than the male ones. -a little self indulgent, but I like to think that he was able to float a lil with electro as well. We see Raiden and Ei do it, and I think it'd be cute if he was able to as well, if to a lesser degree. -has used almost every element at some point, testing delusions with Dotty. Mostly bc I can't really imagine all those researchers just throwing 4 extra elements at shouki no kami and being like "figure it out" -speaking of delusions: I think he didn't use one. His electro is inert and I dont think he used another element. I see people headcanoning his delusion as Anemo, and I get it, but I don't like it all that much -SPEAKING of his electro being inert to his body- I refuse to believe he lost electro completely. The whole "oh he used up his divinity" is lazy. He can still connect to Irminsul, which he only learned while ascending, but he cant use electro anymore, something that he's had since birth? Bullshit. I understand him not using it, but I think it'd be more impactful if that was a voluntary choice. I'd really like to see him recover it over the course of the story -I think Youkai like him. Obviously this excludes Yae Miko, but I think as Kabukimono it wouldn't be strange to see him being followed by some Tanuki or the lesser Kitsune. I would really like to see him interact with the Youkai Children from that one Inazuma event, I think it'd be really cute. -I like seeing people write about him and Kujou Sara, both romantic, platonic and as enemies. The two of them are very similar in some aspects, and then radically different in others. I think it'd be really interesting to see Kujou Sara confronted with her own trauma being reflected onto Ei. I guess this is mostly because I just really like Sara and I want my favs to interact xD -more of a theory, but I think Pierro and Dottore, (will) remember him. He has a lot of foreshadowing in his voiceline about Pierro & Dotty, and other things. He's very clearly endgame/lore relevant, with his story not even being finished. -not a HC, but I wanted to mention it: I'm still stuck in Inversion of Genesis on my main account. I never played past it. I did the Fontaine and Natlan quests for friends/watched them online, but I'm still in IoG on my main, because I never fully decided on a name -last one bc character limit: I really like to imagine him interacting with Neuvilette. I think there could be a lot of interesting discussions had here- Neuvi would absolutely dissaprove of his attempt to overthrow Nahida, but at the same time I think he would, to some degree, understand his obsession with the gnosis. No, the gnosis/authority doesn't belong to Scara (or Ei, for that matter), but I think if you told Neuvi that Scara was quite literally created to hold it, he'd understand, to a degree.

[olderthannetfic]

okay but real question. Everyone says that to write good gore/vore you gotta learn how to write good smut. And I'd like to think that I'm pretty damn good at writing smut but I still am not satisfied with the way I write gore and/or violence. So anyone as any advice on this?

--

I guess for a certain audience, you need to be viscerally into it.

Someone who writes violence because it's important to the plot that the violent thing happened at some point but who's not that into the violence will describe it differently from someone who likes writing those scenes.

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

And YOU will feel healed of the last 15

... when you read this fic. That is, as long as you suffered from an abandonement wound like i did.

Ello lovelies, i have another wonderful fanfic-rec for you! 🤓

But you are an ocean by @ineffably-good

Coverart by @ineffableclassics

What it is about:

After Aziraphale's defection, Crowley tries to figure out how to live life for himself.

Notes:

Ok so, the end of season two broke me. Figured I was maybe done writing stories about these two after that. And yet, several hours later, a sentence appeared in my head, and then this happened. Guessing at chapter totals… I'm finding I like the idea of Crowley going off in a different direction than what I'd initially expect. Not just raging, not sleeping for a century, but actually trying to move on. And why the hell shouldn't he just move to the South Downs by himself? So here we are.

What i like about it:

🩷This fic doesn´t jump in on pushing the story - their story - forward. Instead it goes a totally different path. A quite big part of it is dedicated to Crowley mending the pieces of his broken heart. It´s endearing, it´s breathtaking and it will have you cry. Not only for Crowley but for every single person who ever had to endure heartbreak.

🩷Fun fact no.1: in real life I am a relationship-coach specialised in toxic relationships and heartbreak. And the way Crowley´s heartbreak is described couldn´t be any more accurate. Every thought, every pain, every action he takes, the strength it costs him, the weight of it all - its written absolutely to the point. I could have copied several pages for the "most beloved quote".

🩷So Crowley tries to build a life for himself. Not just living without the angel and rotting in a pit, but really trying to carve out a nice little existence for himself. He is doing his work, he is healing and you can follow along with him, as he learns to build at least new "friendships" - though he would never call it that himself, thanks a lot.

🩷This healing-journey takes quite some time and somewhere in the middle of it i started to think - he could do it. He COULD heal his hurt, mourn the loss and still somehow at least live a life on his own. Maybe feeling the missing part of himself for the rest of his existence, but not being miserable about it the whole time. And that is a thought - a wish - i would have for my dark angel.

I could see him living that life and at one point i almost thought - i would love to see how that would´ve played out for him. A life without Aziraphale. What connections would Crowley have made? How would he have coped with the loss of those humanly connections lifespan after lifespan? Would he have relocated each century? Would he have moved to Australia and learned surfing at one time? Would he have become a timelord and travelled - i mean seriously, Crowley could do that probably?

But you, my dear, are an ocean.

And oceans are ancient

And can survive everything,

Even the wrath of weather and planets.

-- Nikita Gill

SPOILERS AHEAD - if you don´t want to know the plot, stop reading here.

Stop reading if you dont want spoilers!

Ok - you´ve been warned! Here we go: 🤗

🩷Fun fact no.2: I actually downloaded this fic some time ago but had another fic in mind i wanted to start next. So after i finished the last one (also really brilliant, i wrote a rec on it too), i started my e-reader the next day, THIS fic was already open instead on page 1. Huh?

I have absolutely no idea how this is possible, but i DO believe in hints-of-the-universe. Or little demonic miracles on their own. Because i needed this fic.

🩷Because of course - this is a Good Omens fanfic and eventually the other angel arrives. And without giving away to much: Aziraphale has to fight for Crowley. A long long time. He has to be steadfast and consistent and earn the trust of his has-been-companion-for-millenia. Nothing is a given any more.

And i am NOT saying that this is what Aziraphale needs to do or that he was wrong in any way. (The fic doesnt say that either by the way.) But what cracked ME personally about the last 15 was my own abandonement-wound which got triggered massively. I felt retraumatised even.

So reading and feeling that Crowley does not jump on the next best possibility to be back with the angel was a big thing. Having the Angel slowly earning his trust and simply showing up again and again - I needed that. I needed Crowley to take his time, not be the sick lovefool he is often proclaimed to be. For him to have doubts, to feel conflicted, to feel love and the need to self-preserve at the same time.

All these ambiguities we all have. And to take the steps with him. Watch the turning point, when the fear of losing Aziraphale again becomes less and less and the fear of wasting time gets stronger. Taking one step at a time, sometimes even backwards. All those things, typical for a healing process, which is never straight forward but most of the time a rollercoaster instead. I loved this. I needed this. I could sit back, breathe and watch my own heart grow. Just. Wow.

Most beloved quote:

So if you feel like maybe you need a fic in which Aziraphale really shows up and cares while Crowley really takes his time to learn to trust again... And not because one of them has been an idiot, but to experience them both learning and growing together ... and that might be something for your own healing journey, this might be just THE fic for you. I absolutely loved it and so will you.

Reading is therapy! 🤗

[maddiem4]

Well, I wanna be working on a novel right now, but apparently it's time to make a certain kind of post again, as is periodically necessary, because young queer folk keep trying to reinvent the Hayes Code for a variety of misguided reasons. So you know what? Let me lead with the TLDR, and then give my reasoning. If you DNI stuff like incest, I am not just going to unfollow you, I am going to block you.

Now, if you're the type to make assumptions, you might be surprised to hear that I'm not into incest. Sorry to disappoint. Well, unless you count selfcest, but people don't usually lump those together except by technicality. But incest is really not my thing.

That said, I have mutuals who are into it, and harmless about it. Whether it's fictional, RP, or consensual, it's not my business and it hurts nobody. Get used to those words, they're gonna be a mantra here. Further, I've seen how Hayes Queers (hey, I needed a term for them) talk about harmless members of their own community who give them The Ick. The post I'm writing here is a direct reaction to seeing a Hayes Queer post from someone I followed! Reading that, and the comments on it. And lemme tell you: y'all are very quick to throw your peers under the bus with the exact same logic (respectability politics, personal disgust, "making a bad name for us as a larger group", lurking threat to our moral purity) that the conservatives are using to argue for the mass extermination of queer folk. You are bringing pitchforks and tiki torches to the party. So no, I am not going to give you access to my vulnerable mutuals. That's the heart of it. You are a danger to your community, and I'm going to limit the scope of harm you can do. The broader queer/kink communities have worked hard to define harm more carefully than "well I just personally think it's gross." Scat and piss are gross to me, but my mutuals who are into those things do still deserve love and safety, not to be sacrificed on an altar of conservative family values for imaginary "one of the good ones" points. I have a responsibility to look out for my people. So do you, FYI.

So here's the recipe for living online with people whose kinks aren't your business and hurt nobody: learn to scroll past those posts or block those tags, or even block that person. Be an adult. The world does not exist to be personally palatable to you. You are not being harmed, you're being inconvenienced. If you can't handle that, you're the one bringing real-world (rather than imagined) danger to your community. Fuck's sake.

This also finally convinced me to look up what "proshipper" means after seeing it in discourse for years, these dreaded dangerous devils who apparently must be purged from the internet, and... holy fuck, how is this contentious? It literally just means you can disagree about fandom pairings without harassing people? That's just mature behavior in a shared space. That's what the argument is about? Oh my god. If you're arguing about this in 2024, your Aunt Maddie is fully ashamed of you for real.

The dumbest part is that people get doxxed for saying the stuff I'm saying, and maybe it'll happen to me. Guess I'll roll the dice. Which comes full circle: if you're looking at this post and trying to decide how to punish me for it IRL, you are literally being the danger. Stop and think for 30 milliseconds. Maybe I have a point that you are a bigger threat than two trans girls who like to pretend to be sisters for sex reasons. And I don't wanna hear no trauma excuses from any of you little monkeys, fetishes come from trauma a decent percentage of the time, so a lot of the people you're persecuting are victims of the same kind of assault as you.

This is more words than I ever should have to write about a self-evident topic. I know if you're young enough and still figuring out a lot of life stuff from scratch, it may not be self-evident to you. But hopefully it is now before you fucking hurt somebody. Thanks.

[fridurwrites]

Ecto-Implosion 2024 Fic: Dying To Know You (Chapter 12: The Way Forward)

It’s no small miracle that Valerie and Danny actually get most of the day to clean themselves up and relax. Their only interruption is the Box Ghost (Val is unsurprised at this point to learn Danny actually calls it- him- Boxy), and they don’t even transform for that, much to the other ghost’s annoyance. The day is largely spent in the small movie theater tucked away inside the Manson residence, playing Mario Party and then Smash Brothers. Danny never brings up the way Valerie went berserk, and she never invites him to. She does fire a low-power ectoblast at his shoulder from a few seats down when he steals a star from her, though, mostly to stop his giggling. It’s nice. She can’t remember the last time she felt at ease like this, even with everything unknown and terrifying lurking in the shadows of her thoughts. Sam still glances at her sideways sometimes, and Jazz sneaks worried glances when she thinks Val isn’t looking, but her thoughts never feel as intense as they did when she was looking out for the Phantom in every dark corner.

And so we reach the end.

This was my first time writing in this fandom, and my first creative event in general. I had an absolute blast. I owe no small amount of that to my partner, who remains the incredible Fae. Without her art and ideas and support for my own ideas, I would've never gotten so much writing done for this story.

Considering what I originally had to work off of was their comic, which wound up in Chapter 6, they enabled me to really go nuts figuring out how things got to that point, what happened to Valerie, why Danny was nearby to swoop in and catch her, all of it. What wound up coming out of our wild brainstorming is nearly 40,000 words and an AU that I'm hardly feeling done with. Even just letting her in on who Phantom is changes Valerie's trajectory wildly, and putting her through the wringer like this even before Danielle exists means that a lot of things are dramatically changed. I wouldn't be satisfied without exploring some of that, and I can blame the inspiration on Fae and the event organizers and the momentum on the incredibly lovely and fun comments you guys have been leaving.

Seriously, thank you so much for your encouragement and appreciation throughout posting Dying To Know You! Go check out Fae's other works (and mine if you like Outer Wilds, I guess?), and keep an eye out for the continued adventures of our two beloved half-ghosts sometime soon! Stay hydrated, take your meds, eat something, you know the drill!

Until next time, take care of yourselves!

[lazylittledragon]

ok someone please correct me if i'm wrong but am i weird for thinking those 'audiobooks don't count as reading' posts are ableist as fuck????

[little-pondhead]

The Folly of Men -

Chapter 1: #355E3B

AO3 - MASTERPOST

[GENERAL TW: Swearing, lukewarm violence, lots of POV changes, and mild body horror.]

[Fair warning, guys: Canon is a ball pit, and I’m throwing a baby into it. I have no clue what's happening. Feel free to point out mistakes!]

-

Danny was starting to hate the color green. It was the color of death.

Green reminded him of the portal that killed him, and the electricity that was constantly humming under his skin. It reminded him of being on the wrong end of an ecto-blaster and having to dodge for dear life. It reminded him of choking plants that swallowed him whole and tried to turn him into fertilizer. It reminded him of his glowing eyes and how they seemed to take up his entire face when he looked at himself in the mirror.

And right now, as he lay weakly on his side, grasping at fresh wounds with shaky fingers as he tried to ice them closed, the green blood that was splattered everywhere reminded him he wasn’t human.

Not anymore.

-

Green was a familiar color to Ra’s al Ghul. It was the color of life. 

Green reminded him of the Lazarus Pits, mostly. When it was the reason he’d lived such a long life, how could it not be the first thing he thought of? Green also reminded him of his cloak and the warmth it wrapped him in during the cold desert nights when his wife was still alive. Of the beauty he saw in the natural world and why he wanted to protect it. It reminded him of his green eyes that have been passed down through his very few children and grandchildren. Green was the color of the al Ghuls and represented the power he’d amassed through centuries of hard work. 

And right now, as he stood before the Well of Sins, Ra’s was reminded of a secret contract that was buried deep within his personal records, and the monster he’d made it with. The Gardener, the creature called itself, was a being who had crawled out of a Lazarus Pit years ago in search of Ra’s. Its flesh was made from thorny vines and grasses intertwined, and its eyes were tiny red blooms that glowed and made him feel sick just thinking about it. It had forced him into the contract, exchanging power and knowledge in return for a promise of help in the near future. 

‘Near future,’ my ass. Timothy Drake's fleeting voice flickered in his mind, and he could only agree with his subconscious's crude words. It seemed like the only appropriate term as it had already been several centuries since the contract was made, and the being had yet to claim its part of the deal.

He watched, mind racing, as the Well of Sins started swirling frantically. He was alone, with his attendants on standby. Should he call them in? No. Whatever was causing the strange reaction in the pool had something to do with that contract. He could feel it. A power was tugging at his heart, drawing him closer to the edge of the green waters. He loathed to admit it, but this was beyond his scientific understanding. He just knew that every time he tried to look away and leave, his whole body felt like it was alight with flame.

So he stood. And he stared. For hours, possibly, before the first sign of something new caught his attention. A screeching sound was echoing from the bottom of the pool. It slowly got louder and higher pitched as the stone floor started glowing so bright Ra's almost risked the pain of glancing away.

A large head was making its way through the bottom of the pool. It went slowly to accommodate large shoulders, followed by a wide chest and narrow waist. The figure paid no mind to the churning of the Well of Sins and broke the surface of the waters with the ease of a seasoned swimmer. The screeching sound echoed wildly, bouncing unnaturally throughout the chamber, sounding more like incomprehensible words. Ra's wanted to plug his ears with wax and banish the figure back where it came from. Instead, he didn't even twitch an eye.

The Gardener stood before him. And it was carrying a body.

"Master of Lazarusss," it hissed, inclining its head in acknowledgment, but making no move to exit the pool. "Too long has it been, has it not? I've come to collect on my part of the deal."

Ra's nodded in return. Higher being or not, he refused to bow to anyone. "I've expected this, Gardener." He said roughly. Despite learning their language years ago, the sharp chirps and clicks made by the dead were difficult to sound out. It was like he was trying to mimic a broken radio. "Although it's taken longer than I expected for your arrival."

The Gardener clicked its beak in annoyance. "Don't give me flowery words, Pretender. It was not my choice whether to appear before you or not. The Scepter of our realm visited me long ago and commanded me thus; I only now see her vision behind it."

"I...see." He did not see, thank you very much. That was more information in two sentences than he'd ever managed to get from the Gardener. Were there others at play in this little contract of theirs? He did not like the idea of that. "And I assume this whole thing has something to do with the boy in your arms?"

The Gardener let out a low humming sound that seemed to originate from its chest and echo in Ra’s bones. It glanced down, turning the body over gently to let Ra's see his face. The boy was just a child, no older than sixteen. He was deathly pale and seemed eerily stiff, just as if rigor mortis had set in. His white hair was plastered to his forehead from the water, and his clothes were nothing more than rags. Thick green blood was leaking from several wounds and pooling underneath his skin. It wasn't hard to guess what the Gardener was about to ask.

"This is our Guardian and one of the last of his kind. His haunt is not safe anymore, and I task you with his care for the foreseeable future."

Without waiting for a response, the Gardener sloshed forward to set the boy oh-so-gently upon the edge of the pool, taking care that his thorns did not pierce the child. A few vines cupped his face gently as if the Gardener was sad about the boy's state of being.

The assassin made no move to step forward and claim him. "What iske?" He asked. Ra’s voice caught on the last syllable, and he had to repeat the question again properly. Annoying.

The Gardener didn’t seem to mind and just stepped back, relinquishing its hold completely. "He is our Guardian." It repeated. "Care for him well. His fraid will be on the hunt for him and return any harm tenfold. But earn his loyalty, and the power of the Infinite Realms will be at your fingertips. Good luck, Master of Lazarus."

With that, the Gardener disappeared beneath the waves of the Well of Sins, and the waters calmed. The only proof that someone had been there was the sopping wet teen that lay at Ra's feet.

Ra's stared at the boy. The tugging in his heart was a bind, he realized. And it was tying him to the boy. Well, caring for a dead child shouldn't be that hard. Despite his disagreement with Talia over the matter, Jason Todd had turned out just fine, hasn’t he?

With the contract heavy on his mind, Ra's turned and left the boy lying there, clicking his jaw and calling for his attendants to collect him. The Lazarus Pits had gifted him with a new heir, it seemed.

-

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

In another world, a redheaded girl was on the edge of a rampage. Her scream echoed down the suburban street her house was on, and the neighbors sighed quietly and locked their windows shut, not realizing the severity of the question. They were used to this family's antics, and the girl's screaming as a result.

But this could not be written off as 'family antics.'

Jasmine Fenton, nicknamed ‘Jazz,’ was positively furious. Red-faced, she stood before her parents with steam coming from her ears and a bat in hand. 

“Jazzy-pants, we-” her father tried.

“Nope!” Jazz put up a hand to stop him. “Never mind, I don’t want to hear it. I already know.” 

She whirled around, tuning out her parents' protests as she stormed through their house. Correction, her parent’s house. If she had her way, Jazz would never see these metal and unloving walls ever again. Neither would her brother, once she found him. 

Her phone rang, and she flipped it open with a snap, leaving the bat at the end of the hallway. Only a few people had her number, and it sure as hell wasn’t her parents calling her. “What.” She barked, shoving the phone between her shoulder and ear as she dug through Danny’s closet. His bug-out bag hadn’t been moved. 

“It’s Tucker.”

“We have a code green and a code yellow.” She ground out. Good, the ecto-dejecto shots were up to date. The less time she spends in that god-forsaken lab, the better. 

“Fuck.” Tucker swore. Rustling was heard and she heard another voice in the background. “I’m putting you on speaker.” 

Jazz re-packed the bag quickly, adding in some non-essentials that she knew Danny would appreciate. After it was settled on her shoulders, she switched the phone back to her hand for a better grip. “Is Sam there?”

“I’m here.” The girl responded. 

Jazz tripped over her bedroom carpet in her rush to her room. She cursed but recovered and started ransacking her closet and drawers. “Good. One of you needs to contact Danielle. Our parents sold Danny out, and the GIW took him while I was gone yesterday. I’m going ghost and getting him back. Tell Danielle she’s in danger since they have her ecto-signature now.”

“We’re going with you.” Sam said firmly. There was more rustling, and Jazz guessed they were looking for their own emergency bags. “I don’t care how long it takes; we’ll get him back.” 

“Are you going to shut down the portal?” Tucker asked. 

Jazz paused, considering it. In the original plan, Danny was in charge of shutting down the portal while Jazz and the others took care of the Fentons, GIW, and everything else. It was personal for him; his final resting place. But now that Danny was missing, and they needed a reliable escape route. 

“Not permanently.” She decided. “I’ll figure out how to turn it off temporarily, or put a shield up, but Danny will need to be the one to make that call.” 

Tucker started typing furiously on his laptop, muttering under his breath until he got to the file he wanted. “Sam and I will take care of the town defenses, and Dani’s on her way from New Zealand. She’ll be here in a few hours. I’m sending you a bug; plug it into the Fenton’s security systems, and it’ll lock them out of the house for now. Only do it after you’re done in the labs. Sam’s gone off and is pulling some strings to get all the ghosts in town back to the Zone. I’ll start tracking Danny and shutting down all the Fenton and GIW equipment I can find.”

“Thanks, Tucker. I’ll meet you guys at Nasty Burger in two hours; pass that message to Danielle.”

“Sure thing. Oh, and Jazz?”

“Yeah, Tuck?” Jazz started counting her hidden wads of cash, making sure it was all there. They never wanted to believe the Fentons would go this far, but she was glad they’d made contingency plans just in case. 

She could hear Tucker’s silent snarl as he said his parting remark. “Leave enough of them behind for the rest of us.”

Jazz laughed, a little hysterical. “I’ll try.” She said, bidding him farewell. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure she could look at her parents ever again. But she knew, deep in her bones, that if they tried to stop her, there wouldn’t even be ashes left from the hell she would raise. 

-

Gotham was caught in a storm. It was one of those ugly, howling summer storms that threw water in your eyes and bit your skin with a vengeance. Damian squinted, trying to make out the sight of Spoiler and Signal through the rain, but even their bright uniforms were lost in the shadows.

He tightened his grip on his grappling hook as a particularly harsh wind tried to throw him around like a ragdoll. Water seeped into his collar, making him shiver. A beep echoed in his ear, and he risked taking one hand off the line to answer his comms.

"Robin," Oracle was practically shouting in his ear over the storm. "Signal made it to the Cave. Spoiler is rounding up Condiment King, and then she'll do the same. You can go back now."

Damian tsked. "Father is still out here," he replied. "I shall not return until he does."

"Robin-" Oracle sighed.

Another gust of wind made him grunt, and he cut the call to refocus on scaling the building. The only good thing that came from such a wild storm was that most of the villains were smart enough to stay inside. Splitting up in such conditions always left a sour taste in his mouth, but Damian understood it was necessary to cover as much ground as possible during times of emergency.

He wasn't sure this counted as an emergency, but Todd was certainly treating it as such. The citizens of Crime Alley were being hit hard. Enough to the point where Red Hood had openly invited the Bats onto his turf to help with the flooding and evacuation from some unstable buildings. Batman and Red Robin had gone, leaving Robin and Orphan to cover their patrol routes.

Finally, finding purchase on the rough brick, Damian quickly hauled himself up to safety. Some of his equipment was ruined, and his costume was soaked. Truly, this storm had come out of nowhere.

His comms clicked back to life. "Robin." Cain's clipped tone was somehow louder than Oracle's voice.

"I'm here," he replied, scowling at the oily mud on his shoes. Damned pollution.

"Home," Orphan said simply.

Damian scowled even harder. He could argue with Oracle without issue, but he barely won when it came to speaking with Orphan. "...Fine." He sniffed. "I shall return."

"Good." Damian could hear the smile in her voice. "Agent A has cocoa."

"I'll consider it." He said stiffly. He imagined his adoptive sister smiling slyly and glancing toward the sky before the comms switched off, leaving him to his thoughts again. After checking his grapple to ensure it still worked, he started picking his way through the building at a snail's pace, letting himself get distracted whenever he spotted someone in trouble. The Batcave would be warmer and dryer than the streets, but not everyone had a dry place to return to. Every little bit helped in the long run, and even Damian wouldn't pass by a lost child in the rain.

The only thing that bothered him more than the dark clouds overhead and fresh hail on the way home was the unnatural feeling on his spine. It felt like someone was watching him, judging him. But when he looked, nobody was there.

-

The stars were gone.

Danny felt weightless as he floated, staring at the space where the stars were supposed to be. He felt lighter than normal. Danny was surrounded by colors that flowed and ebbed like the tide, taking him deeper into this mysterious space. Golden fish and silver deer wove past him as fire and ice trailed behind, and yet he couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to get up. He just laid there silently. A bone deep exhaustion was settling into him, but sleep refused him.

“Ghost Child.”

Oh, Danny was dreaming. He was already asleep.

He didn’t turn his head, nor acknowledge when the stars returned to his line of sight. The stars wrapped around him like a curtain, cutting off the rest of the dreamscape. Two bright eyes, burning like red giants, peered down at him as thin hands cupped his body.

“Ghost Child.” The voice repeated again, speaking in his mind even as the words were swallowed by the silence of space.

Danny turned his head slowly. “Nocturn,” he murmured. These too, were snatched from his throat and lost. The cold seeped into his chest and he hiccuped. He couldn’t speak. Not that he really wanted to.

Luckily, Nocturn seemed to understand him just fine. He cradled Danny gently, bringing him closer to his chest. Something shifted in the fabric of space, and suddenly Danny was being laid to rest on the smooth stone of a crescent moon, as pearly white as his own hair. He sighed as the coolness of the moon seeped into his body, soothing aches and burns he didn’t remember getting.

“Where are we?” He wanted to ask.

Nocturn blinked slowly at him, his face twisted down towards Danny. His ram’s horns glinted as a glowing blue jay landed on them and started preening itself. Danny wanted to fly with the bird. His body didn't move.

“Sleep, Ghost Child.” Nocturn hummed. The moon vibrated beneath Danny, soothing the electric currents that kept him awake no matter what he did. Danny’s eyes started sliding shut as Nocturn’s song wrapped around him like a lullaby.

The others… Danny’s mind whispered.

Are safe. The song replied. Rest, young guardian. Your people are safe. You did well.

That was all he needed to hear. Danny let himself fall into slumber, relief flooding his mind. Yes, his people were safe. He did well. He deserved some rest.

As the young ghost fell into a dreamless sleep, a real sleep, Nocturn gently tucked the boy in with a blanket made from his own starry robes, shifting the fabric once more to hide away his core, and the boy who was resting on it. The bluejay on his head chirped indignantly from the movement and flew away, leaving a trail of smoke behind.

Nocturn paid it no mind. Warnings from Fate were never a good idea to ignore, but the bird was but a memory of a life that had long since passed. It only stuck around because of the dreams that kept feeding it. The ghost let his lullaby continue as he returned to his work, taking care to move slowly.

Undergrowth was taking care of his physical body, so he would care for the boy's mind. Vortex was off to round up the little ghostlings who had scattered like dandelion seeds, and the Master of Time was keeping an eye on the rest of Phantom's fraid while they rampaged in the mortal realms. After the stunt he pulled to protect the Realms, it was the least the elder ghosts could do.

-

"Is the boy awake?" Ra's asked sharply, entering the private rooms he had set aside for the boy.

The attending nurse, an older man born with no tongue, bowed his head and signed, 'No, sir. Vitals are off. He is a cold corpse.'

Ra's regarded the boy. It has been several weeks since the Gardener dropped the boy off in his care, and he hadn't awoken once throughout the entire time. He truly looked like a regular dead teenager, if you exclude the unnaturally white hair.

The Demon's Head bent over the boy's bed, tugging open an eyelid to see if he would react. Nothing. However, he noted the boy's eyes were green, which he was mildly pleased about. Green was such a lovely color, and this boy seemed surrounded in it.

A sharp knock echoed from the door, and Ra's granted the other party permission to enter. His best phlebotomist, a man named Paz, entered, holding a stack of papers as thick as his thumb. He bowed to Ra's as soon as he saw him.

"The results?" Ra's asked.

Paz immediately handed over his work, fully confident that Ra's understood everything he'd written. "For all purposes, the boy is dead." He said in a thick accent. He spoke in halted Arabic, as he'd only lived in 'Eth Alth'eban for a short time. "He has no circulation. No heart to move blood, or lungs to breathe. We must move him every hour to prevent postmortem lividity. He has undergone an extensive autopsy process, but it seems it was stopped before his brain was removed. No organs remain in his body otherwise.”

Ra's examined the papers. They were reports from different scientists and doctors, all of whom had been assigned to examine and work on the boy. Most of them said the same thing. The boy was dead and had been for a while. If the Well of Sins didn't do anything when he first exited the waters, what good would it do now?

He flicked his eyes up. "But you think otherwise," he stated.

Paz nodded enthusiastically. "The boy is dead, but his blood is alive!" He tapped a green folder that was poking out from the bottom of the pile. Ra's shuffled the papers off to the nurse and opened it. Printed off charts had been scribbled over with Paz’s frantic notes, documenting his thought process.

The phlebotomist rambled excitedly as his boss read his work, gesturing wildly. “It’s incredible! Most of his red blood cells have died off, and he has an abnormal amount of white blood cells, which indicate some kind of infection. But his plates-“

‘Platelets.’

“Platelets,” Paz nodded his thanks to the nurse for correcting his speech. “The boy’s platelets are still alive, and are actually trying to heal his injuries! We recorded a time-lapse last week to confirm it. The process is incredibly slow, even compared to human healing, but there’s a difference! Because of the absence of red blood cells, the plasma left in his body has practically doubled in volume, even though there’s no circulation to keep it moving. We’ve noticed a collection of stem cells at the base of his skull has started growing as well, and whatever it’s producing is being released into the body at regular intervals.”

“What kind of cells are they?”

“Unsure. At first, we thought it was cancerous in nature.” Paz tapped the corner of the folder again, prompting Ra’s to turn the page. “And while these cells are certainly growing as fast as unchecked cancer, rather than doing harm, we’ve taken samples and noted that they’re merging with whatever original matter has been left in the boy’s body. Bonding, like glue! The healing process is periodically speeding up with every release, the plasma has started circulating on its own, and the white blood cell count is diminishing. Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it! It’s filling in for everything that’s missing, and keeping what is there, alive. Dr. Vanessa hypothesized that within the month, it may even start replacing the boy’s organs.”

Ra’s looked up from the research. “These photos look like plant cells, is this an example or actual recordings of the activity?”

Paz wrinkled his nose. “Those are evidence of the activity. For some reason, cellulose is present within his body, and the mysterious stem cells seem to be a mix of both plant and animal matter. It’s hard to track even with our technology, but it looks like the cellulose is forming a sort of…skeleton? Frame? I’m not sure what the right word is, but Dr. Vanessa says they might start regrowing in another month. If that’s true, this would be a huge breakthrough in the realm of organ transplants and other medical fields!”

The Demon’s Head hummed, flipping through the work again and considering the man’s words. “Very good,” he praised. Paz beamed like a child at his words. “Unfortunately, I shall be releasing you of your duty, and your tongue is too loose for your head.”

“What-“ Paz’s eyes widened as he gurgled, his words cut off. Ra’s twisted his wrist, driving home the dagger he’d planted in the man’s heart. He had no use for men who talked too much.

Paz fell to the floor, convulsing as he tried to weakly remove the weapon still sticking out of his chest. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he went pale as his blood seeped out onto the floor.

Ra’s barely spared the dying man a glance, taking back the extra stack of papers from the nurse and neatly stepped around him to exit the room. “Clean that up,” he said over his shoulder.

The old nurse bowed his head, waiting patiently for the foolish doctor to finish dying before he got out the mop.

This is why the nurse had survived so long; he knew how to stay silent.

-

[Nocturn tucking Danny in to rest. Ghost speech says, "Rest well, ghost child"]

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[sosadraws]

Anyone has Mynah fanfic recomendations?

Or at least fanfics where they're plot relevant or recurring characters. I'm not picky regarding genre or ships

[thelovers-thedreamers-and-me]

the downside to being a sitcom neighbour sort of person is that when rough things happen and emotionally fuck u up a lil bit, it also sounds completely made up

[moe-broey]

Some. Sort of spectrum. From most likely to least likely.

And by kitten-pile I mean This

I'll put a transcript under cut for easier reading! 🫡

How Likely Are They to Kitten Pile?

__

Mirabilis: "are you tired..? do you need a break...? ohh we could take one together..."

If she likes/trusts you even a little, she wants to cuddle about it!!!

-

Sharena and Peony: "Okay! 💖 Yay! 💖"

Shari: The only thing stopping her is social conventions -- making her MORE likely to jump at the opportunity!

Peony: Learning social awareness as she goes, and is surprisingly good at it?

-

Triandra: "Aren't we a bit old for that...? But... even so..."

Embarrassed, conflicted, but feels strangely nostalgic at the notion...

-

Plumeria: "I'm not so petal-soft that I'd resort to such INDECENCY, I mean even if your intentions are Pure USE YOUR HEADS YOU FOOLS!! Girl, the IMPLICATIONS!!!"

Desperately wants to join the kitten-pile, but her Issues and Pride gets in the way.

-

Moe: "aw, so cutes!"

Generally touch adverse, extremely picky even with the people it likes/loves -- everything is entirely on its terms.

[moonshine-nightlight]

Hi, I'm always very impressed by your world building skills, even in shorter stories! Do you have any advice for aspiring writers on how to build their fantasy world?

So i drafted a response to this in between working just far too much and then my computer crashed and i lost it. Then i was even busier so i never got around to writing it again but i am making some time this weekend, so worldbuilding post - take 2

My main, high level worldbuilding tips are:

Rule of Cool: worldbuild things you think are fun and interesting. not only is that the best way to get ideas you like and are motivated to write about, but other people will also think they're interesting too. have fun with it.

Iceberg theory: know more about the world than ever makes it into the story. people can sense when worldbuilding is shallow, so even if they never see the true depths of the world they can often sense it's there. plus if u know the whole picture, everything the readers do see will seem more coherent

Integration: i heavily integrate the world i'm building into the story i'm telling--so dig into the plot and characters and make sure that the world and the story serve each other well. your world is there to contribute to the story so make sure its fulfilling that purpose

For more specifics about how i personally world build and for some examples from my stories of the above guidelines, see below.

So firstly, i love worldbuilding. i just think its a ton of fun and could easily spend hours just thinking about worlds in my head. (i mean what else is there to do when ur commuting to work, amiright?) i think that does make it easier for me to take the time to do it right and makes the world come through more vividly in my writing. it can get annoying or tedious or be more challenging at times, but since i like it/find world building interesting, i'm more willing to put in the time and effort to whip it into shape and i get less frustrated with that part of the process in general.

i'm also always thinking about world building to some degree in the back of my mind. picking up interesting information, facts, snatches of cool ideas or images or whatever. then i throw all that in like a junk drawer in my brain so when i sit down to more officially write or flesh out a world, i already have spare parts at my finger tips to use or drawn on.

Reading and consuming other art and worlds also makes it easier to make your own, just lik reading is a key part of writing practice. i don't just mean fiction, but just anything about the actual world makes it much easier to make up your own--that can manifest as awe at the fireflies that actually exist or spite that dragons dont. Whether that's random youtube video essays about the history of musicals or drinks or fashion to books and articles and documentaries or just my friend's niche interests (or their regular jobs). i'm always taking worldbuilding notes in the back of my mind.

For a more writing specific example, i read this short guide '50 Ways to Kill a Mermaid' (its locked for AO3 so u hav to sign in to read it) and it was super fun and cool to read that info from a writer who had studied marine biology. then when i was fleshing out Don't Shoot the Messenger a year later, the problem of Satrasi being a sea demon in a fresh water pool and bloating came to my mind because i'd stored that tidbit from the article away for later use.

My personal method for worldbuilding and plot outlining is sort a brainstorming/Q&A i have with myself (i hope this makes sense when i'm done writing this all out lol).

I've mentioned this before but the prompt that inspired Dale was: "You’re pretty sure your boyfriend was replaced by an eldritch being that can barely emulate being human. Weirdly, you enjoy a better relationship with them than your actual boyfriend."

So when that idea grabbed me, i started brainstorming about the world and asking myself questions. Why is the reader with the boyfriend if they don't really like them? What would make someone stay in a relationship like that? Do i want to make this a dark story? And i did not, i wanted it to be fun, so the arranged marriage angle came to mind. And if that's the premise then when is the story? is this our 'past' or another world entirely? diff world means more freedom so i automatically leaned in that direction.

Can the reader tell the 'boyfriend' has been replaced? Are demons a thing people know about? does the reader know that's an option? which is more fun? if the reader is worried about Dale getting caught, that's more room for hijinks so then yes, demons are known, but not common otherwise too many people would notice.

So my plot and worldbuilding are evolving in tandem and informing each other, based on the type of story i want to tell and how the characters i have in mind will react etc.

i run through a lot of ideas and turn them over in my head--trying out diff pieces to see if they fit--and am always willing to drop an idea or save it for another story if i don't think its working for the current one

For iceberg theory, i mentioned above for Dale would be the religions in that world. When i decided to introduce a priest like character (for discovery danger) i knew i needed to focus more on the religions than i previously had noted. the majority of what i came up with isn't int he story, but i think the fact that i know it helps me write when did end up in there, helped make it consistent, and means i can more easily work in allusions to it without having to work so hard those singular times.

For example, i'd decided to call the demon realm "the Depths" early on, which to me already invokes deep water and darkness, so i followed that through to sort height and air and light as being perceived more positively. fire and light are important symbols in this world and they primarily burn their dead--to bury someone below ground would be seen as almost condemning them and someone drowning is also seen as like, not good for their soul because what if it is 'pulled down' rather than 'ascending'. some of this was alluded to in the chapter, but most of it is not. this also helped me come up with the various "by the light" "dawn's ire" and other similar little 'religious' phrases and exclamations different characters use at times.

Meanwhile, in Sacrifice, the people living their are relatively non-religious--thats why they both don't pray to any other deities and it takes 5 years of problems to even bother trying an old god. it's not sacrilege because they're desperate people trying a long shot, not violating or abandoning a different belief. because i wanted the reader's main problem with it all to just be that they didn't think it work.

And why is she a translator? because i wanted to use the idea from that one post that goes around about how ridiculous it is in movies when their translated prophecies rhyme in english. why are they arguing about the translation? because its a dead language so no one really speaks it, that means the people who came up with it were here a century ago or longer. why aren't they here anymore? nomadic so they left and ended up staying away because of a natural disaster elsewhere. why is this town here now? a particular export/resource in this area became valuable enough for people to try to live here. the fact that its a lumber town due to some rare wood native to the area doesn't come up in the story, but i know it and i think that i know that about the town helps it feel more real, makes it easier for me to reach for new details when i need them

and going back to anything can be inspiration, let's talk about the doorlock in the very beginning of Finally Woken. its literally just a magical keypad/number pad but with different colored tiles instead of numbers because i wanted the reader to be able to get in, but i felt it didnt make sense for them to hav a physical key. and i thought it would look cool in Heshi's door and it went well with the fact that he's a glassblower . also, why is Heshi a glassblower? because i frickin' lov blown glass - i just think its so cool and pretty. that helped lead into the sort of artisan economy feel that world has.

Each of these stories has an outline and notes doc at a minimum. the notes doc is where i throw lik pics, inspiration posts, random worldbuilding ideas etc. only much shorter stories or stories that are heavily based in 'modern' world don't hav extensive random notes.

my Dale folder has subfolders for characters and the setting, as well as random worldbuilding files such as "demon summoning/magic" "spiritual belief and org" "fashion - feminine" and so on. Even excluding the plot outline and chapter notes (and not counting pics) i've got like, over 4k of random notes saved. dale is the one i hav the most of that for, but all my fics have some little section with stuff like that jotted down

in the end, i think the best way to sum up all that is with my three original rules of: put stuff u think is cool in your world, known more than you tell to help everything fit together and seem deep, and build your world around your plot and characters because they should all be working together to tell the story you want to tell.

honestly, i could ramble about worldbuilding all day so if anyone has any questions or wants more examples, just let me know ^^

[lord-squiggletits]

I need to reread the comics again to have specific arguments/evidence for this, but like

I feel a bit like I could've been sympathetic to the way other Cybertronian colonies view Cybertron, if it weren't for the fact that at least several of them (as in, ones that get notable dialogue/screen time) are so low-key self-righteous?

Like, idk... there's a lot of criticism of Cybertronians because they're so "warlike" and how their obsession with violence and vengeance is just dragging the whole galaxy down with them, but uh. The Autobot-Decepticon war was basically a product of societal ills bubbling over for like 6 million years beforehand and then finally boiling over into a 4 million year war that lasted as long as it did because the people involved had immense social/psychological trauma from being "raised" in an oppressive society.

So when the colonists come in being all 'omg you people are so violent and uncivilized why don't you just like, stop fighting' it kind of pissed me off a little bit as a reader/person like. Idk the colonists really came into this society of people full of massive amounts of trauma where even before the war society was super oppressive and no one has any experience of living "normal" lives unaffected by violence and bigotry. And the colonists were like "ummm wow why don't you guys just??? stop fighting???." Like idk it wasn't EVERY SINGLE MOMENT, in fact I think that when it was played for laughs it's quite a funny "fridge horror" type element. It was just annoying because like.... IDK???? It's just really annoying to watch a bunch of people who lived relatively sheltered lives on their own planets come to a different planet full of traumatized people and be like "omg why are you people so fucked up" IDK BRO MAYBE BECAUSE THEIR SOCIETY WAS OPPRESSIVE AND THEY LIVED THROUGH A LIFELONG WAR???

It also doesn't help that the colonies were literally founded based on imperialism and conquest so like, it's fucking rich to hear colonists scolding Cybertronians for their violence ruining the whole galaxy while literally sitting on planets that their Primes colonized from others. The hypocrisy of this is briefly mentioned in Unicron (literally the FINAL STORY OF THE SERIES) but like, that's basically the only time Cybertronian characters are given a reprieve of sympathy from other characters in universe and it's so tiresome.

I've talked to other people who didn't like the colonists and thought they basically (narratively speaking) existed just to shit on the existing characters, and it's actually really easy for me to sympathize with/outright agree with that assessment of the story considering how much of exRID/OP seems to be preoccupied with "Cybertron/the Primes/Optimus sucks" with very few reprieves for anything positive happening and even fewer chances for characters to get to explain themselves and experience a little bit of justice? Like, as the audience, it's just very frustrating to see the characters you spent hundreds of issues keeping up with get shit on by a bunch of "literally-who"s and then not really get a chance to ever defend themselves, either by literally defending themselves in conversation or having some sort of narrative thing happening that vindicates them at least symbolically