#but i know about a fairly decent amount of them

[marmotsomsierost]

O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?

Pratchett: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.

O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.

P: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.

O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.

P: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus. Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.

Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.

(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself."

(Terry Pratchett in an interview with the Onion)

J. R. R. Tolkien, undisputedly a most fluent speaker of this language, was criticized in his day for indulging his juvenile whim of writing fantasy, which was then considered—as it still is in many quarters— an inferior form of literature and disdained as mere “escapism.” “Of course it is escapist,” he cried. “That is its glory! When a soldier is a prisoner of war it is his duty to escape—and take as many with him as he can.” He went on to explain, “The moneylenders, the knownothings, the authoritarians have us all in prison; if we value the freedom of the mind and soul, if we’re partisans of liberty, then it’s our plain duty to escape, and to take as many people with us as possible."

Stephen R. Lawhead

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

me: okay im pretty tired so im just gonna find something light to watch

video about the rms laconia: exists

me: oh hey, i know that one pretty well, i wont end up angry crying about it this time. clicks on video

an hour later

me: is angry crying about it this time

[thedreadvampy]

Btw in all the chat about Dot & Bubble and racism has anyone like. acknowledged that it's kinda weird that in the series featuring the first ever Doctor of colour we have seen uhhhhh:

3 specials in which the new Black doctor appears at the end of the last one for like 5 minutes after being replaced with a previous (white) Doctor for the big event episodes (a thing that has never happened before)

3 regular episodes

Episode in which the Doctor is mostly tangential to the plot except as a bomb

2 extremely Doctor-lite episodes, which are a common feature of Doctor Who but are pretty much never stacked back to back

FOR THE AVOIDANCE OF DOUBT. I like all these things:

Russell T Davies' work on Doctor Who

Ncuti Gatwa's fucking masterful acting

Doctor-lite and companion-centric episodes (which honestly are some of the best New Who episodes. Turn Left? Human Nature?)

but. it is notable that this series - which I would consider so far to be 9 episodes in which Ncuti Gatwa has had a reasonable cut of screentime in like... MAYBE 4? - is a) by far the least Doctor-focused episode ratio that I've ever seen, b) the only one where an actor's actual onscreen regeneration has been pushed back by the return of an old actor, and is c) COINCIDENTALLY the first ever season starring a Black Doctor 🤔

(because like. this could be a coincidence. there are often Doctor-light episodes to give the actor a break, for plot reasons, etc)

(buuuuut. two in a row? and they're both genuine Doctor-light episodes, ie one which is Turn Left style where the Doctor only appears to bookend the episode and is otherwise taken out of the universe, and one which is Blink or Love and Monsters style where the Doctor only appears in brief bursts, on screen, through the episode, with one monologue near the end, while we follow another character around for the bulk of the time. I can't think of many series of New Who with 2 Doctor-lite episodes, especially not in the first half of a season. In Davies' original run there were what, 4 Doctor-lite episodes in 5 years (and that's IF you count Fathers Day which I kinda don't)? and we've had half that many in one season, back to back, only 4 episodes after we DIDN'T SEE THE NEW ACTOR FOR ALMOST 3 FULL SPECIALS?)

(and I do know that Gatwa had shooting commitments with Sex Education but the thing is. back to back in the first 5 episodes???? it's not a good look! it's just not! you don't have to shoot in series order, you can literally space them across the series if you need to work with his shooting schedule! like I am sure it's not intentional but COME ON.)

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Terry Pratchett about fantasy ❤

Terry Pratchett interview in The Onion, 1995 (x)

O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?

Terry: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.

O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.

Terry: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.

O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.

Terry: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus.

Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.

Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.

(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.

[sexilene]

boy nextdoor!jj is so hot hehe him choking me while he fucks me in a matting press AHHHH. want to see him smirking down at me through his floppy blonde hair wet with sweat as he puts his other hand over my mouth so my parents don’t wake up :3

ohmygoodness stop it right now. the way i smiled reading thisss pleaseeee!!! adding this to the kinktober list cuz why not!! #19 (ignore any spelling mistakes sorry lol!)

anotha little boynextdoor!jj x girlnextdoor!reader thought ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

when your boyfriend does manage to sneak in through the window by climbing on a tree…he usually spends the night. your parents go to sleep fairly early, like soon after dinner early, so that gives you and jj some alone time in the dark without worrying about one of your parents randomly entering your room to check on you. it's happened before and though jj is getting better at running to find a hiding spot, it's is not ideal.

your parents figure you like to fall asleep to the tv you have in your room watching your little movies, and that it’s the movies making the little sounds. while that is true on some nights, this time around both the tv, you and your boyfriend are making sounds.

“jay!” you squeal when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending down again to press his flushed hard cock deeper into you. “shhh, gotta be quiet, like a little mouse, quiet okay?” he shushes you, your little movie still on in the background, providing a decent amount of light to illuminate his features and yours.

“uh huh…okay” you nod, still a little dazed due to the past two orgasms he gave you by fingering you a little over 20 minutes ago. once he pushes into your puffy pulsing heat, he wraps a strong hand around your throat and starts to squeeze down, causing you to furrow your eyebrows and grip the hand on your neck. jj is practically trapping you there, underneath him getting incessantly plowed by his big dick.

“wanna hold my hand?” he offers you the hand that’s not on your neck, you mewl at his sweetness, he’s still trying to make you feel as loved and safe as possible even if he is fucking you like he hates you.

“mhmm!”

“here babydoll” he takes your hand in his, the sounds of skin slapping skin faintly bouncing off the walls, not wanting to risk waking the whole neighborhood up with the way he really wants to be pounding into you right now.

your lips are swollen from his kisses, drool threatening to escape the corners of your lips, tear stains on your cheeks glisten due to the lighting, your hair all messy, and still jj thinks you look like the prettiest little thing.

“y’look cute, c’mere” your boyfriend grunts, pulling you up by your neck for another kiss, “harder jayjay, please harder!” you whisper, needy as ever.

“i know babe,” jj chokes you harder and uses his other hand to rub your clit in fast circles, “g’nna cum again!” you squeal out.

“gonna wake up your parents, hold on,” he takes his hand off your neck and covers your mouth to keep you from making any more loud noises, as much as he loves to hear them….

“alright kittie cat no more screamin’ or im gonna have to press your face into the pillow,” he whispers in your ear.

“mph- nmm” your words muffled by his big hand,

“yeaaaah good girl, almost done baby, just keep takin’ it…” he bends your legs back further into a mating press and starts thrusting in again. the position causing his dick to go in deeper and hit the spots that make you melt. that combined with the way both your bodies all sticky with sweat and how he smells all salty and musky, makes you roll your eyes back and then squeeze them shut.

“h-ha…shit, y’so warm and wet holy fuck i love you so much.” jj grits through his teeth, bringing that hand back down to play with your pulsing clit. you whine into his hand as you cum hardddd on his dick, squeezing him so hard he can barely pull out to thrust in again.

“shhh sh sh, there you go…reaaal yummy huh?” he coos, bringing that hand back up to choke you again, “baby girl likes getting choked huh? dont’cha?”

you try and make a sound but you just can’t with how hard he’s squeezing your neck. “yeeeeaaah she likes it, little pussy gushes on me when i squeeze your throat like…thisss…” he gives a few final hard sloppy thrusts, letting go of your neck to give you a breathing break, sweat dripping down his chest, before he shoots hot strings of cum into your cervix.

he doesn’t pull out to keep all that cum stuffed in you and bends down to give you wet sloppy ‘good job’ kisses, whispering an ‘i love you’ after every kiss.

“think we were pretty quiet this time?” your boyfriend whispers looking into your eyes, and all you can do is give him doe eyes, pout and let out a little “mph!” ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[sainns]

7:13PMㅤ✶ㅤ lee heeseung x femreader

you hate scary movies, loathe them even. hyeju, on the other hand, was obssessed them. so obsessed that she practically dragged you out of the comfort of your shared apartment to the movie theatre because they were going to be having a 'horror movie night'.

why she was so obsessed and why anyone would willingly go to an event like that? you have zero clue.

you couldn't see at all what made horror movies so great that they’re the only genre currently being massed produced within the entertainment realm. surely it wasn’t because the gross amount of gore, the heartstopping jumpscares, or insane— unrealistic storylines.

maybe they just found the actors attractive.

that’s what you chose to focus on, at least. the protaganist is a fairly decent looking guy, almost enough to distract you from the creepy ambience that was making you feel like you were about to throw up from anxiety.

keyword: almost, because as soon as the music spikes and something pops up on screen— you don’t look long enough to see, your eyes immediately squeezing shut— your hand shoots out to grab onto something.

you inhale deeply, trying to steady your breath, hand gripping onto hyeju's. as your heart rate returns to it's normal rate, you loosen your hold on . . . hyeju’s hand?

um . . . no.

what you’re holding does not feel hyeju’s hand whatsoever. hers is much smaller and definitely not as rough as whoever's hand that you’re currently holding is.

you open your eyes and glance to your right, where hyeju is definitely not sitting. instead a guy is there— a very attractive guy, at that— looking down at your hand in his.

eyes widening, you quickly pull away and let out a mumbled apology.

you can't help but internally groan and sink down in your seat, imagining yourself falling into a hole six feet deep. you can’t believe you just embarrassed yourself in front of someone who looked like they could be an idol. first you’re forced to watch an awful movie and now this?

you are not having a good day and you swear it’s going to get worse when you hear him let out a quiet laugh.

he’s for sure laughing at you and he’s going to make fun of you with his friends after the movie is over and you are never ever going to be able to step outside again. at least some good will come out of this— hyeju will never be able to force you out to another event like this one.

except it doesn’t get worse.

instead, he leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “if you want you can hold my hand again whenever you get scared. i don’t mind,”

you blink, opening and closing your mouth as you try to think of a reply. however, before you can think of something that’s not along the lines of ‘let’s get married’ (you're a weak woman, what can you say?), something else jumps out onto the screen, surprising you for the second time.

unconsciously, you take him up on his offer, your hand finding his once more. to which he responds by lacing your fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"my name's heeseung, by the way," you can feel his smile as he whispers, "figured you should know my name if you wanna keep holding hands,"

sinking down even further into your seat, you feel your face heating up to a degree that could probably rival the sun's.

note. hi i found this in my drafts and since i have rlly bad writers block here u go!!!! srry for the lazy layout LOL im planning on remaking my current one but i cant be bothered to rn oops

[rottingcorps3s]

older man!neighbor!price

aaaayyyoo??? my little thing i posted last night kinda popped off. here’s another one before i fall off again (10 whole reblogs?? you guys are so cute).

price is sliiiightly older in this. think like mid to late 40’s. older man, next door neighbor. i envision this in a timeline where he retired early. this is very house-wife, american pie dream kinda deal. what can i say (hawk screech). OBVIOUSLY, some puss eating. what’s the reverse of a munch? not the one who eats, but the one who is eaten? cause that’s me. there’s a decent amount of set up for this one, but its not too long.

Part 2

-

neighbor!price is the kind of person you see that makes you pick up your phone and call your friends to tell them about the ‘hot ass dilf’ that you just saw leave the house next to yours. you had been in and out of the house all day, cleaning and moving in the smaller pieces of furniture into the previously vacant home.

the sun was just setting when you decided to stop, your clothes slightly damp from the thin coat of sweat that covered your body. you had taken the chance to finally sit down for the first time today, your body giving in as you plopped down onto the wooden steps that lead up to the porch.

you saw a car in the distance slowly approaching, it didn’t catch your attention again until it turned into the driveway adjacent to your home. a few seconds after it parked, an older man stepped out.

“well helllloooo neighbor…” you mumbled to yourself, smirking before deciding to stand up and greet him. just a new neighbor doing their neighborly duties of introducing themselves °_°

he hadn’t been paying attention until he saw your shadow being casted on the ground next to him. he turned his head to look at you.

his eyes locked with yours, boring into your skull the longer you looked at him. his face was covered in blonde and white hair, his beard kept fairly short. he was built too, his biceps practically being the size of your head, his t-shirt leaving little to the imagination.

it had felt like minutes since you approached him, staring into his eyes as he waited for you to say something.

“he-i just moved-next door-neighbor!!” you struggled to get out, your mouth suddenly becoming dry now that you are face-to-face. he gave you a tight lipped smile, nodding his head once before extending his hand out.

“john.” he said simply, “i live next door.” he smirked, his tone dry, but kinda humorous? or maybe he was just making fun of your struggle to introduce yourself. (YEEESSSSS MAKE FUN OF ME MAKE ME FEEL INFERIOR….srry, need to control myself).

you said your goodbyes and didn’t even get through the front door before you were calling your friend.

-

the next few days were exhausting. the movers had finally shown up and you were finally able to sleep in your bed once again. your home was still filled with boxes upon boxes upon boxes but you were determined to finally take a night to relax.

god must’ve had the devil on speed dial that night, because NOTHING went right. what was supposed to be a quiet night in bed with a glass of wine, quickly turned into a disaster when you went to take a shower. you had opted for a bath the last few nights, enjoying the warmth on your achy muscles from unpacking.

you pulled the tab that would usually start the shower head; you didn’t even have time to process what happened before you were drenched in water. you let out a panicked scream, trying to backtrack and shut off the water. the shower head had come clean off and was now spraying water over the entire room.

you were frozen in place, unsure of what to do or who even to call. your body was moving faster than your brain, you were already out the front door and knocking on your neighbors door in a frenzy.

he was old…er. he looked like a dad! he definitely would know what to do!

price was puzzled by the scene in front of him when he opened the door. you were soaked beyond belief, your hair sticking to your forehead, your eyes wide like you were a deer in headlights.

“can you please help me!” you begged, your voice so soft and sweet, your lips pouting out every so slightly. “my-my fucking shower exploded, or something!”

he agreed, following behind you with a small tool bag in his hand. you left a trail of water behind you, your bare feet hitting the concrete of the sidewalk as you walked quickly back to your home. john would never admit it, but he was staring. the shirt you wore was soaked and clung tightly to your body. outlining your figure.

john was able to rectify the situation rather quickly, even teaching you a few things about homeownership whilst he did. he was able to find the water shut off valve in your basement, stopping the water from spraying and almost flooding your bathroom. he also reattached the shower head, making sure it would actually stay out this time.

you thanked him profusely, over and over and over again all the way back to his front door where you followed him. you said your goodbyes, not without saying thank you one more time.

but it just wasn’t enough. that man, your neighbor, a stranger, john. was considerate enough to go out of his way to help you. you had to make it up to him! so you did…

by baking!! obviously!! :)

chocolate chip cookies, of course. everyone likes a good cookie!

once they were done and cooked you wrapped them up in plastic wrap, a small note attached to the top.

a thank you note.

you dropped them off on his doorstep the next morning, leaving them there for him to find.

-

the next few months were pretty consistent. thankfully, no more shower head explosions. you had a few problems here and there, but nothing you couldn’t fix!!…or that john could fix for you…

you paid him in baked goods and hot meals. even going out of your way to find out his favorites. he didn’t mind, he enjoyed it, maybe a little too much.

you had been out of town for a few days, taking an extra long weekend to go out and have fun. john agreed he would keep an eye on your house while you were gone. making sure nothing or nobody messed with it.

he would’ve done it even if you didn’t ask him

when you returned home you made it a priority to make dinner for both yourself and john that night. a quick and yummy thank you.

you packed the food in a small container, sticking a little note to the top just explaining what you made and what was in it. you might’ve drawn a little heart or two on it as well, but i’ll never tell.

you were in a pale yellow sun dress, the bottom of the dress juuuuusst barely covering the top half of your thighs. you knocked on john’s door, box of food in hand with a smile on your face. the door swung open, but it wasn’t john.

it was another man. a black man with sharp features and short hair. “is john home, by chance?” you asked.

the man in front of you smiled widely, a sort of mischievous smile. a ‘i know something you don’t knooooow’.

he wasn’t given a chance to respond before the man was pulled back by his shoulder and john appeared in front of him. john was quick to shut the door, gently coaxing you to walk half way down the path in front of his house, away from the door. he had a look on his face, he seemed annoyed, not at you, but at the situation.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you had company.” you smiled apologetically, “i just wanted to say thank you.” you said, holding up the container of warm food.

john gave a tight lipped smile back, graciously accepting the food.

“don’t worry about it,” he mumbled, “thank you.”

you went on your merry way, scampering your way back up your steps and into your house. not without a quick wave before the door slammed shut.

john held his head in his hands, letting out a deep breath before turning to head back inside. he could see 3 separate breaks in the blinds from where 3 people were peeking through. the second he noticed it, they were gone. blinds completely back to normal.

he walked back inside, preparing for the comments that would be made by his guests.

“she’s prettier than you described, cap.” said a smug Gaz, Johnny nodding frantically in agreement.

“Might have to snatch her up myself, old man.” Johnny joked. his joke being met with a harsh slap to the back of his head from Ghost.

-

it had been a few days since you had seen john. you were used to having at least one daily encounter with him, but now he seemed like he was avoiding you. you didn’t stress about it too much, just assumed he was busy with…whatever he did in his free time.

you were half a bottle of wine down when you heard a knock on the door. you weren’t expecting any visitors so you had decided to drink a little more than you usually would.

you swung the door open, all precautions to the wind as you didn’t even check who it was.

it was john.

“oh-john,” you smiled sweetly, his name sounded like the texture of honey when you spoke it. he liked it. he liked it a lot.

“can i come in?” he asked bluntly. he didn’t really wait for you to answer, pushing his way in and standing next to you.

so close to you.

“is something wrong?” you asked, a worried expression on your face. your brows furrowed in slight frustration. concern.

he was quiet, his breathing shaky as he thought of what to say. he had no idea of how to beat around the bush, how to say what he wanted to say without it being too forward. but what’s wrong with a little honesty?

“i want you so badly.” he said in a quiet, deep voice. his eyes looking directly into yours, holding eye contact.

you weren’t sure if you heard him right at first, thinking that your mind was playing tricks on you. making you think he said something else but there’s no way he said that…right?

“r-right now?” you asked.

he was surprised by your question, not at all expecting that kind of response.

he nodded.

all it took was a small nod back at him before he jumped your bones. his hands were hot and heavy as they touched and saw new areas of skin. your shirt was bunched up by your collarbones before you knew it, his tongue quickly finding place on your nipples.

gaaaawwwddd, he’d play with them forever if he could. making sure to keep them taut and wet for the rest of eternity. leaving sloppy wet kisses and small bite marks behind.

you had made it to the couch at some point, time was a blur for the moment. your only focus on the way his hands ravished your body.

he would periodically make eye contact with you before doing certain things. making sure that it’s what you wanted and that you were enjoying it. he had started to shimmy your panties down before looking at you again even tho he did just moments ago. you nodded enthusiastically, desperately wanting him to touch you.

he knew once they were off that he wouldn’t be able to control himself. he was on his kees; he had set you on one of the arms on the couch, one leg hanging loosely over his shoulder already while he held the other one in place.

yes his knees were screaming at him for acting like he had the same body he did in his 20’s. no he didn’t really care how much it’ll hurt later.

the second your underwear was off your leg, he was going for it. he used his thumbs to spread you open slightly, admiring it before licking a looooooong, slow stripe up the middle, ending on your clit.

he’d be such a fucking tease. going all in and bringing you right to the top of your peak before pulling away or slowing down. you’d protest, desperation dripping from your words.

he’d get you to a point where all you could say was “please please please please”. he’d finally decide to cave, not stopping this time. it was almost too much for you to handle, your legs trembling and shaking.

he wouldn’t stop after either. you’d pull at his hair, letting out a cry as you tried to pry him off. but you were just sooooo weak from the last one :,( after the 4th or 5th, maybe 6th? you had lost count. he would finally let you go. making sure to give your pussy a small smack, enjoying the small squeal you let out a little too much.

and he’d make sure to fuck you silly too. turning you so that you would hang over the arm of the couch. he had to completely support you weight, which was fine with him. he’d ask for permission before even pulling his dick out; he’d use your own wetness as lube to stroke himself a few times before pushing in.

god he was sooo big, much bigger than any guy your own age.

he would 100000% talk you through your orgasms. you can’t remember a single thing he said, but you remember it being amazing.

once you were both done, he would take care of you. no doubt about it. he’d carry you to bed, bring you water, dress you in a new pair of pajamas and as long as you invited him, he would cuddle up next to you and hold you.

HUGE into pillow talk. would just talk about anything and would listen to whatever you said. nodding along with you.

the next time you cooked for him, it was extra delicious. and he’d be sure to tell you that when returning the container the next morning.

but not without updating you in his new favorite meal.

you.

-

SOMEBODY SEDATE ME. oh my fucking gaaaawwedddd

[ff-killjam]

How The Tables Turned [Ford x reader oneshot]

Summary: This time, its Ford making you stop what you're going to make sure you get sleep.

Rating: SFW and very fluffy

Warnings: Aside from a slightly suggestive part, none!

AO3 version

A/N: Actually based on a period of time where I tried to learn how to use unity (before the whole drama of it happened). I refused to do ANYTHING but to work on my little project no matter how much I was starving for a few weeks straight. lol.

It’s basically routine at this point for you to drag Ford out of his lab to head for bed. Even if you remind him of the benefits on sleeping and how the lack of it will impact his work, you still needed to get him into bed, sometimes having some food ready for him to make sure he didn’t sleep on an empty stomach.

That’s how its USUALLY IS.

Lately, you’ve started your own personal project involving learning a game engine to play around with. It was mostly just a random idea one day, wanting to try your hand at making your own little “video game”. Nothing too fancy, just something fun to put together and to learn some new skills along the way. There was A LOT you needed to look into and learn to make this happen, however.

From learning a coding language, the game engine itself, a mix between finding free to use assets and even making your own when nothing suited your taste- you had a lot on your plate. It wasn’t all that bad really, considering how this whole thing turned into a full blown hyper fixation fairly soon after starting it. It was easy to let the hours fly by as you were split between watching tutorial videos, drawing and fixing any errors/bugs in any of the codes you wrote down. You were aware of when you needed to sleep, eat and do other things for your health, but something about working on this project made you refuse to move from your chair. And you weren’t the only one to noticed this.

After a decent amount of time being with you, Ford has grown used to the routine of you coming to his lab to check up on him. It got to the point where he purposely stayed late in the lab to get you to come in and “pester” him to take care of himself better. The feeling of knowing you cared and loved him so much to go out of your way to make sure he knew that was something he relished in. Of course, he did felt a little “silly” and “immature” doing this instead of straight up telling you, but there was no harm being done anyways, so it was fine.

So when you stopped checking on him after a few nights, he couldn’t help but to worry a bit. At first, he figured you were just a bit busy, possibly even out for the night, so he didn’t think too much of it. However, when walking into your computer room and seeing you up staring at your screen with an open notebook with various random things written on it, he couldn’t help to smile a bit as you reminded him of his university days. You were just working on something, nothing too bad.

But as time passed by, he soon realizes he only ever sees you in your computer room. You barely went out for anything, even for food. Ford didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but he was worried. Things escalated for him when he barely sees you in bed anymore.

It’s not like he didn’t talk to you as you were deep in your work. He would sometimes check in on you when things felt a little too quite after he started to noticed your absent in his lab. Ford was happy you were able to pursue something new and to take the time and effort to do it. He was aware of the little game you wanted to make for the sake of saying “I made this!”. When he had the free time, he’ll listen to you talk about the things you learned, some of the issues you faced and how you fixed them, etc etc. But he can only take so much before he had to really step in for your own sake.

The sky was dark out, and it was around 1am. You weren’t in bed yet. Again. Ford was really concerned for you now. Walking through the dim hallway, he opens up the door of your computer room. He can see you fully concentrated on your screen, looking over some codes you put together, as if you were trying to find any errors in the lines of text that was presented in front of you. It was obvious how dry your eyes were, how your body longed for rest, but the urge to keep going and to fix this one mistake kept you from wanting to sleep despite how much you felt the need to do so.

It was almost funny to him. A taste of his own medicine some would say. It reminds him of the many nights on how he too would refuse to stop for the night, always needing to do one more thing before he could let himself rest. How you would do your best to persuade him to let himself walk away from his work, to take care of himself to avoid any health complications, and to spend time with you in the comfort of your bed.

It made him feel guilty as well. The things you did for him and how much you loved him to always go out of your way to show it. Ford knew he was taking full advantage of that, and he wanted to repay it back.

You jumped a little in your seat when you felt his familiar six finger hand land on your shoulder, being so focused on the lines of text on your screen that you forgot where you were for a good bit. You look over at Ford as he stood beside your seat, giving him a weak smile.

“Oh hey! Do you need anything?” You asked before quickly looking back at the screen again.

“Love, when was the last time you ate?” Ford asked you in a gentle voice.

“Uh… I had breakfast?” You answered, only remembering you had some toast with a sunny side egg on top when you last ate. It didn’t seem like it mattered too much though.

“Its almost one am” Ford replied, a little stern this time. You quickly check the clock on your taskbar, feeling surprised from how much time had passed.

“Oh… oops” you spoke mostly to yourself, feeling a little silly for not checking the time more often. “I’ll probably head to bed soon”

“Not soon,” Ford points out, “you’re going to bed now.” His words made you look at him again, confusion viable on your face.

“Just let me do this one fix-” Ford says your name, stern voice again, causing you to stop your sentence.

“You are fully aware of the effects of not taking care of yourself” Ford spoke to you with a smirk on his face. You knew that he was referencing the many of times where you brought out the facts of how the lack of sleep and self care can affect your health and day to day life. It was the best way to convince him to come to bed and let you cuddle with him until you were both asleep. “You’re no different form me, sweetheart. Got to practice what they preach, as they say”

“Uh…. I’m built different?” You gave a half shrug and a low chuckle at your own joke. Obviously, this did nothing to change his mind. You knew he was right, and had nothing to say to argue back. Ford knew this too. “Fine… let me quickly save and shut off my computer…”

Ford watches you quickly save any progress before shutting off your computer, the light of the screen turning off and making the room dark as it was the only thing on. As you start to stand, your body fully conveyed how tired you really were. You were about to walk to the hallway door before Ford lets out a ‘let me’, and you were now being picked up bridle style in his arms. You let out a small gasp, often forgetting how much muscle the older man has as he often hides it away in his iconic turtleneck. The comfort of him holding you made the realization at your own exhaustion hit hard. You can feel yourself somewhat go limp as Ford carried you to your shared room.

Ford felt you quickly relax in his arms, feeling prideful as he carried you to your bed. Sitting you on the side and pulling the blanket back. He lays you on your pillow before fallowing suit into his usual spot on the bed beside you. Your eyes were shut as you let yourself sink into the soft mattress, the weight of the blanket being pulled over you giving a sense of security, along with how his arms wrapped around you to pull you close to his chest. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, getting a few shivers down your spine.

“Sorry…” You mumbled to him, feeling guilty now for making him go out of his way to get you to bed. You feel him chuckle into your skin, the smile forming on his face being easily felt on your skin.

“Nothing to be sorry about sweetheart,” his replied, voice audibly sounding more tired, “I should be the one to apologize, making you go through this almost every night. I see how doing this almost all the time can be a bit frustrating for you.”

“Not if its you,” You were quickly to reply, “I’m always happy to make sure you’re okay”. Ford felt his heart flutter at your words. You always did surprised him with how much you loved him despite how many times you pointed it out.

“The feeling is mutual,” Ford placed a kiss on your skin as he caressed one of his thumbs that rested on you, “lets get to sleep now, I’ll be sure to do something for you in the morning” Ford gave another kiss on your skin, and you can’t help but to feel excited for what he had planned.

Silence followed as you two let yourselves slowly fall asleep in each others comfort. Feeling his steady heartbeat on your back lulled you to your sleep.

Ford smiled when he realized you fell asleep before he did. It was no surprise, you needed it really bad. Without fail every night when he has you in his arms like this, he feels like the luckiest man in the multiverse. He didn’t deserve you, but it was almost as if this is the repayment he deserved after many years of suffering, a way of life saying sorry to him.

And he wouldn’t ask for anything else.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

(I love your writings, you are an impeccable smut machine)

But I raise you The ghoul being dotted/cared/comforted a bit later in the relationship from a sweet S.O/ partner etc… how would he react??? ( hurt/comfort be making my brain go brrrr)

Have good now❤️

This is the Cooper hurt/comfort request that doesn't have smut in it, and it's the only one of the couple I've been working on that stayed within a reasonable word count. I will let that speak for itself. Thanks for reading, Anon!

One of the funny ("please work with me, here" funny, not "ha-ha" funny) things about Cooper is that he's easy to hurt and difficult to comfort. Particularly so if you two are becoming close, but still feeling growing pains in your personal relationship. His desire for closeness is so overwhelming that it paralyzes him, leaving him afraid to lean on you, lest you flee (or worse, collapse) under the weight of all his issues. For all this time, he's suffered in silence through his worst days, his emotions a tertiary concern at best. Why should now be any different, especially if he wants you to stick around?

When you try to talk to him early on, sensing an emotional "in" as the two of you gravitate towards one another more and more, he likes to deflect with the remark that he didn't bring you into the partnership that led to what you are now to be his therapist. He's developed a hard shell out of necessity over the many decades, but that hard shell protects a still-sensitive core hidden deep inside.

It takes him an almost immeasurable amount of time to reach a decent level of trust with anyone, but once you make it there, the ache in his chest that yearns for understanding and companionship only intensifies. He wants to be known, to be cared about, but to get what he wants, he has to be ready to make himself more vulnerable than he's willingly been in lifetimes. It's difficult and painful and terrifying, and it feels like he fucks it up more often than not. What hurts more is the knowledge that he used to be capable of this, that it came naturally to him at one time.

It's pretty easy to hurt his feelings or put him in a pensive mood, actually. Not that he'd say anything out loud about it. However, there are very clear signs, changes in his behavior that only someone who knew him fairly well would pick up on. He's quieter, less present in the sharpness of his remarks. Meaner.

The fact that you notice these things about him is both flattering and annoying, as you grow bold enough to investigate what's wrong when you do. He's long grown used to the toxic, numbing comfort that simply swallowing down and stewing on his emotions affords him, and you knowing him to this level leaves him feeling rather exposed.

You're quite surprised to find he's actually very sensitive about his looks, what with as prone as he is to using jokes at his own expense as a disarming tool. You're less surprised to find that he's really only sensitive about them when it comes to what you think or say. It's both flattering and almost surreal to wrestle with; typically, you choose your words carefully with Cooper to avoid the cutting sting of his razor-sharp tongue should you say anything stupid. As it turns out, it's a bit of a different art to mind someone's ego, especially while pretending you aren't.

But eventually, with patience and more hard-fought digging into the bedrock of who he is, you find that he's also pleasantly susceptible to apologetic flattery and flirtations, rather easy to draw into a genuine apology with a few complimentary kisses. It's some of the most nakedly human behavior you see from him, this man who leans so hard into othering himself as a defense: failing to resist the charms of a pretty lady one is enamored with, eager for attention, affirmation.

Some hurts are easier to soothe than others, though.

Accidental (or intentional) insensitivities are plentiful in the world you two find yourself in, including your own. After a relatively short amount of time wandering the desert compared to him, even you develop a certain level of thick skin to just how cruel people can sometimes be. But not all wounds come from the outside. There are times where that hard mantle of pure anger fractures just enough to allow the ocean of sadness beneath to be glimpsed for a moment.

When he reveals to you that he's spent all this time looking for his daughter, something really changes between you.

Beginning in that moment, it's in these incredibly vulnerable times that he lets you in the easiest, the torment of what he's missing aching down into his bones and sending him scrambling for whatever he can find to ease the pain. Often it's booze, chems. Harsh, needless violence. More than once you've watched him pick deadly fights like it's compulsory, drowning himself afterwards in whatever he can find that's highest-proof.

You would be lying quite obviously to say that you didn't prefer when he seeks comfort from you, instead. Usually, this consists of him simply using you as a sort of sympathetic ear, a shoulder to cry drunkenly on. You're often silent, not sure anything you might say wouldn't fall entirely flat at best. You know where your family is, know they're probably safe without you, even if your feelings about being separated from them weigh heavily on you sometimes. You made the choice to leave; they weren't taken from you.

It's the not knowing that's the hardest, he tells you in not-so-many words. When he's this raw, the far-away look in his eye unsettles you deeply. It's like you can see the pain of centuries of search and struggle reflected there.

Sometimes that far-away gaze is especially wet-looking, and that's when you tuck your chin on top of his head and allow him to hide his face in your throat. You know he hates to cry, that he hates it more with an audience, so you don't look. When you feel warm trails running down the side of your neck, you don't say anything.

Every once in a rare while, when he begrudgingly accepts that you already know exactly how exposed he is, he softly pins you down and rests his head on your stomach or chest, allowing you to fully hold him as close as you want, cradling the back of his head with your hands. This is a behavior you only see when he knows the two of you are truly alone; who knows what sort of damage could be done to the fearsome reputation of Thee Ghoul if people found out he likes to be held when he's sad?

You swear moments like these are the closest you see him get to real rest, to peace, to sleep. He tells you they're no such thing, but when he's truly beaten down, you find him in your lap more and more. You don't complain.

[falmerbrook]

How are the Falmer hitting me with arrows? (headcanons on how Falmer navigate and hunt/fight)

I'm keeping up the Falmer headcanon momentum.

So Falmer in Skyrim (the game) have a blind effect applied to them and fortify sneak. As I'm sure anyone who has plundered a Dwemer ruin has experienced, despite their blindness, those buggers sure can shoot and arrow. As a matter of fact, they have a surprising amount of archers in their communities. There's also a question of how they are able to navigate the often treacherous Dwemer cities filled with dangerous guarding contraptions and tall drops. So here's my thoughts on how they get around and navigate/fight/hunt so well.

Echolocation

You know what other (real life) creature has poor eyesight, big ears, and is able to pinpoint small targets for hunting? Bats.

I like to imagine that Falmer are in the early stages of evolving echolocation. While they don't have the precise echolocation capabilities of bats, I headcanon they can use it to get a general picture of the size and shape of their surroundings, so they can get a decent idea of obstacles, the size of a room/cavern, if there is a gap or cliff, and if an object or creature is moving around. Falmer moving about will use echolocation to navigate (akin to using something like a cane to just detect obstacles or walls), and while on guard or hunting they can use it to scan an area to get a baseline for what the area is like and therefore if something changes within it.

Bats that have evolved echolocation tend to have large ears to better pick up the reflected noises, and strange looking wrinkles and folds in their faces to help reflect or project the sound to the ears better. This could explain the wrinkles on Falmers' faces and the larger ears (I also tend to make their ears bigger than in the games in my drawings for that reason).

That all being said, for your consideration, please imagine if Falmer's faces looked like this:

(Wrinkle-faced bat, white-throated round-eared bat, vampire bat, horseshoe bat, great stripe-faced bat, slit-faced bat)

And if they sounded like this (as I picture it, it would be a sort of secondary noise set alongside their normal vocalizations that we hear in-game):

(in real life, this is more of a noise you can feel in your head than hear)

(this one is slowed and pitched down so we can hear it)

Clairvoyance

I've often wondered (these are the sorts of things I think about while I'm working) how clairvoyance would work in-universe, but I think it could be useful to someone (or a group of someones) who can't see. For those who don't know, clairvoyance is an illusion spell in Skyrim (the game) that shows a blue magical path towards the current objective (quest marker). They way I like to headcanon it, the way clairvoyance works in-universe can vary, but it’s mostly used for giving the mind’s-eye an “image” of the route/location of what the caster is thinking about. It’s like a mix of a clarity of understanding (a “eureka!” moment) and a mental picture. It’s a spell that requires pretty heavy concentration and mental training, since it requires not only casting the spell but maintaining a certain objective in your mind.

Falmer have figured out how to use it to “see” (understand) their surroundings in a way that allows them to fight, hunt, and navigate complex architecture. It’s not a replacement for sight though, just a way of adjusting without it. This is the skill that allows them to use bows with fairly good accuracy. They understand this spell more as a navigational skill than what the above world sees it as (a spell). I imagine they have their own very different system of understanding and classifying magic since they've been so separated from the rest of the world, but that's a post for another day.

While echolocation is mostly used for purely navigating and scanning the environment to get a sense of scale and placement, clairvoyance is used more for a specific purpose, whether that be to navigate to a specific point, navigate difficult terrain, pinpoint the position of a target/enemy, find something (an object they lost, a friend or family member, etc.), etc. While a guard or hunter may use echolocation to scan, they may then use clairvoyance to pin down a potential threat. Usually, unless one is very skilled in magic, they can only focus on a single target or subject at a time using clairvoyance, and it is a learned skill that most individuals have at least a basic grasp on, but only those more skilled in magic can use for complex, frantic, or stressful situations. They don't see it so much as a spell to learn and master, but rather a basic skill of life, like how we may see learning to read and write.

Of course, part of their ability to navigate also just comes down to having been born that way and just naturally learning the placement and arrangement of things in their environment. They don't know what they're missing, and like a blind person or animal, could adapt to it in their own non-magical ways as well. The magic and evolution just help them thrive.

Anyway, thanks for reading another Falmer Post™!!

[sweatermuppet]

What is it like being trans in New Hampshire? I'm trans in Maine and generally consider NH the black sheep of New England when it comes to queer politics. Some of my trans friends consider it a no-stop zone on our roadtrips.

uh it's pretty fine for me. i get kinda sad when people say NH isnt trans friendly (a sentiment ive seen a lot lately). i had an openly transitioning teacher in high school. i had many gay teachers in high school. i was one of the first kids to transition openly at my school & there were a lot of struggles but it was also 6+ years ago & mostly teachers were under-educated & didn't know how to protect me. i got in a fight & suspended over a kid who was transphobic toward me, but i was allowed to use the boy's bathroom & locker room & all of my core teachers were pretty good about using my name & pronouns

i have multiple trans friends, just locally, & know other trans people a little further out in NH from following them on IG. some pretty decent art scenes in various towns & those are LGBT-dense. one of my trans friends started estrogen yesterday (prescription thru informed consent). i will say in my experience, NH healthcare is lacking for transsexuals—it's been easier for me to go thru Massachusetts or NH planned parenthoods, but ive been able to receive treatment fairly easily (cost being one of the only major negative factors)

as for people, a lot of folks kind of don't care? there are of course republicans & conservatives & a disheartening amount of libertarians, but in my day to day, it's mostly "live free or die" & if you're not hurting anyone, it's not too big of a deal. some of the republicans in my life (like friends' dads) have the attitude of "well i don't get it" but they still call me silas & are generally alright with me, aren't hostile towards me

i see trans flags pretty often. i saw a bumper sticker last month that was the shape of NH completely colored in with the trans flag. there are a bunch of coffee shops & bookstores & artsy places nearby i can think of that employ trans people, house trans art, etc

recently, anti-trans & anti-LGBT bills have been introduced & passed in NH. two passed last month, which can be read about here. i saw some pretty disgusting sentiments shared about those bills on twitter when they were introduced. those make it harder to exist here, but it's not impossible & it does not immediately make all residents hostile toward transsexuals. i don't want people to abandon NH because they think it's too far gone or too hopeless. trans people will always exist in every state & every country & every corner, no matter how hostile those places become

people here love me, regardless of how political parties view me. people here fight for me. there are trans people & Black people & disabled people here who are more vulnerable than me who i want to stay & fight for & protect. if you'd like to learn more about diversity in NH & how to protect various human rights, here are some orgs i am familiar with:

NH PANTHERS (anti-racism advocacy & education)

Queer-Lective (art, education, & connection)

Black Lives Matter NH

GLSEN NH (LGBT resources & education for schools/teachers/students)

Reproductive Freedom Fund of NH (abortion fund, sex ed, LGBT advocacy)

603 Equality (LGBT advocacy & education)

Lovering Health Center (reproductive care, LGBT education, gender affirming care for NH, MA, & ME)

Black Heritage Trail of NH (Black history)

ACLUNH (civil liberties + human rights)

[chatonarya]

I've talked about Karlan Trio a decent amount, but I can't help but still feel that there isn't enough conversation about how inherently funny it when you look at it through the lens of Degenbrecher foremost.

Degenbrecher's besties are Enciodes Silverash and Gnosis Edelweiss. These are the two people she trusts the most, cares about the most, and is open with the most. This is not speculation: this is canonical and textual.

Enciodes is the CEO of Karlan Trade and best known for being a wily schemer adept at manipulating his opponents to gain capital and political power for himself; Gnosis is just as cunning and even more ruthless and radical than his partner and has spent most of his life an outcast. They're also both generally fairly emotionally isolated and have problems with their family and only seem to trust and rely on each other for company...

With the exception of Degenbrecher.

Enciodes and Gnosis are good people at heart with noble motives even if they go about it in less than noble ways; and while Enciodes is admired and liked by the Kjerag populace and his employees, and Gnosis has regained a degree of general respect by the time of RS, and while they aren't evil per se, to anyone who knows them even slightly on a personal basis, their methods (and personalities) make them disliked and distrusted...

With the exception of Degenbrecher.

Degenbrecher willingly chooses to hang out with them. She likes them. She knows them better than anyone else, and even knowing that personally they might be total disasters, she sticks around anyway. Degenbrecher could hang out with literally anybody she wanted to, but she chooses to hang out with the two people who are probably some of the least hang-out-able people in the country. Look at them: Enciodes blathers on enough that Degenbrecher has repeatedly told him to shut up and explicitly says she hates overly-chatty smartasses (except him); Gnosis is, well, Gnosis, who uses insults, affectionate they may be, with almost every other sentence.

Yet it's implied that they regularly go out for dinner together and even have their own in-jokes and running pranks with each other. Degenbrecher says Gnosis has lousy taste and prefers Enciodes to pick the venue; Degenbrecher offers to take them both sightseeing in Leithanien; Degenbrecher tells them they can come spar with her (and she'll kick both their asses at once with one hand behind her back). They're the best of friends.

And you know what? That's really funny. You'd think, surely Degenbrecher can find better company than these two. Surely Degenbrecher doesn't lack for friends, given her popularity in Kjerag. But no, she picks these two. I hesitate to call them "losers" because I'm very fond of them and it's undeniable that they're extremely successful people, even if it comes at the cost of their personal lives, but one could very well call them that.

She also willingly chooses to take care of them. She carried their drunk and broke asses home in the snow after Walden's instead of just dumping them on the side of the road and letting them fend for themselves; she continues to carry medicine for Gnosis and fetches papers for Enciodes when he forgets them. She doesn't have to do any of that, but she does it anyway, because she cares that much about them. This immensely powerful woman has chosen to take of these two walking arguable messes and has done so for ten years. Her EP is explicitly about her desire to protect them. She loves them a ton.

These two might be trash, but they're her trash. Degenbrecher is the superpowered possum guarding the dumpster that is Enciodes and Gnosis and she's perfectly happy doing it.

[raythekiller]

Ticci Toby nsfw alphabet :0? please and thank you!

🗒 ❛ NSFW Alphabet ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Ticci Toby

#Notes: ugh i love him sm

pronouns used: none, gn! reader

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

A - AFTERCARE

Super touchy feely and gentle. Will clean you up himself, you don't even have to ask. Cuddles afterwards are a must.

B - BODY PART 

Another chest guy, boobs or not. His hands just gravitate towards it as you're having sex.

C - CUM

Likes coming on top of your stomach the most. Since you're normally barebacking and he doesn't want to risk anything, he pulls out last second.

D - DIRTY SECRET 

Well, he thinks it's a secret, but everybody knows he's never even kissed anyone, let alone had sex before.

E - EXPERIENCE 

As mentioned above, no sex experience, didn't even watch much porn like other guys his age, which is why he normally likes you taking the lead.

F - FAVORITE POSITION 

Matting press. Doggy if he's the one getting fucked, he's too embarrassed to let you see his face.

G - GOOFY 

He's more passionate than funny, since he takes it quite seriously. Will crack a few jokes after it's done, though.

H - HAIR

Actually pretty well groomed, likes to keep his junk clean. Too much hair and he feels gross. Not clean shaven, but fairly decent.

I - INTIMACY

Super romantic and passionate. The fact you want to do something so intimate with him makes his heart flutter, so he wants you to feel appreciated as well.

J - JACK OFF

Doesn't do it too often, never did even as a teenager. When he does, he doesn't even watch anything, just silence as he works his magic.

K - KINK

Here's a full post on his kinks.

L - LOCATION 

Doesn't want to admit it, but in the middle of the woods. Loves the idea of fucking you against a tree and the risk of getting caught.

M - MOTIVATION 

Mentioned this before, but dirty talking is a HUGE turn on for him. Just whisper something in his ear and he's yours.

N - NO

Similar to Ben, doesn't want to do anything to hurt or upset you, like impact play or degradation. Unlike Ben, he won't budge no matter how much you tell him it's okay.

O - ORAL 

Giving, definitely. Even though he has no experience, he's a fast learner. Won't stop until you've come on his face.

P - PACE

He gets a bit desperate, so he might now be as slow and sensual as he wants to. The thrusts become messy and fast after a little while.

Q - QUICKIE 

Prefers to take his time with you, so quickies aren't a very often occurrence. He wants to make sure you're completely satisfied.

R - RISK 

Pretty open to experimenting. Other than that, the most risk he'll take is, again, public sex in the forest.

S - STAMINA 

Oh, he'll go on for hours without breaks. It's insane the amount of energy he has. Though he comes pretty fast, he'll make up for it by coming multiple times in a row. As many as you want.

T - TOYS 

Doesn't own or like them that much, honestly, but if you wanna try it he's all game. That being said, strap-ons are a completely different story for him.

U - UNFAIR 

Can't tease or handle teasing. Doesn't mean he doesn't like it when you're a bit cheeky, though, but he gets worked up super fast.

V - VOLUME 

Fairly loud, also a whimperer. Doesn't speak much during sex, just incoherent ramblings about how good you're making him feel. He gets fucked stupid really easily.

W - WILD CARD 

Fucking loves it if you scratch his back while he's pounding into you. He can't feel it anyway, and it's a sign that he's doing a good job.

X - X-RAY

Pretty good size, about 8 inches, not too thick. Curves a little to the left.

Y - YEARNING 

Not too horny, honestly. You're gonna have to initiate it most of the time if you wanna get laid with him. Not that he minds.

Z - ZZZ

Can't sleep for a good while after. He just holds you untill you go out and stares at your face lovingly, tucking any stray hair behind your ear.

[thediaryofaurora]

General HCs

𖧐Kate the Chaser (Kate Milens)𖧞

- 5’8. She’s not very tall, but she’s pretty lanky.

- Mixed! Her dad is Eastern Indian, her mom is Salvadoran and White.

- Actually had a great childhood. Both of her parents were amazing. She didn’t do anything bad, but Slender saw potential in her and her house was just too close to the mansion for comfort.

- To maximize her performance, her memory was wiped so it didn’t hurt as bad.

- Fairly reserved. Does talk to Nina, sometimes Toby or Cody. She mainly goes with whatever. If she’s on a mission with people she might small talk a little, but social interaction isn’t really something she craves.

- Pretty thick hair! It’s long and untamed, kinda frizzy. She doesn’t take care of it whatsoever, uses men’s three in one shampoos or bars of soap. Even though her hairs wild, it would be pin straight if she tried to tame it.

- Her room is kinda boring. She doesn’t really feel any need for decorations, but her bed is by far the comfiest out of anyone’s.

- Cat person. 1000%. Always pspspsping at strays while she’s on missions.

- Doesn’t think about relationships very much. There’s no one in the mansion she likes, so there’s no point. Definitely a lesbian, though.

- Her hands are always FREEZING, even in summer.

- Prefers to work alone, but she’s usually paired with Hoodie. Since they’re both quiet and know to do their thing and leave, they work pretty well together.

- Out of all the proxies, Hoodie’s her favorite since he’s efficient and easy to plan with.

- Doesn’t mind Masky, his strategies just don’t click with hers. Same for Toby.

- EXTREMELY STEALTHY!! Also definitely a klepto.

- Her favorite colors grey. (Boring 💔.)

- For someone so lame normal, she actually has a decent amount of hobbies. She carries a little notebook to write poetry/ sketch in, reads a lot of classical literature, and takes polaroid pictures around the scenic parts of the forest! She keeps all her pictures in a little box under her bed.

- Absolutely no one knows that she does anything her free time, they just assume she sits in her bare, bare room and does nothing.

- Loves Nina’s guinea pigs, but she’s so scared to hold them. She’s actually really gentle, just very cautious because she doesn’t want to hurt them.

- Farsighted! She needs glasses and has a VERY strong prescription. Usually she wears contacts on missions and in front of any other residents, but in private she wears her big bulky glasses.

- LOVES unsweetened tea. Any opportunity she has to get some she absolutely does.

- Winter girl!!! Never mentions it, but snow is her favorite thing ever. She finds it so calming the way it crunches and makes the wind all cool. Since she doesn’t remember any of her past she can’t place the feeling, but snow makes her feel very nostalgic. Also, she drinks cold hot chocolate, kind of weird.

- She’s my favorite, I love her.

𖧞𖧐𖧞𖧐𖧞𖧐𖧞𖧐𖧞𖧐𖧞𖧐𖧞𖧐𖧞𖧐𖧞𖧐𖧞𖧐𖧞

[communistkenobi]

Wrt your posting about the jedi taking on children, I disagree thst the argument about force sensitive people 'need' to be trained for everyone else's safety. It's like Dragon Age mages or BNHA quirks, it's not special if someone can fireball me if they're having a bad day, some random person can already beat or strangle me with just their own two hands in the real world, no fireball necessary.

I mean idk I feel like Star Wars does a fairly decent job of establishing how dangerous force sensitivity can be - it’s not just extra strength or throwing things, but also mind control, healing (which i know is rare tbf), communicating with animals, etc. It also establishes how scary it can be to have those sorts of powers without knowing how to deal with them. I think Rebels does a good job of exploring this kind of thing with Kanan and Ezra.

However I also agree with you that it doesn’t “need” to be a problem, like force users are not inherently doomed to darkness/violence unless trained eternally across all space and time. But I think force sensitivity introduces a wholly organic way to accrue power (both physically in the sense that you’re more powerful and socially in that you have a type of organic ‘capital’ that can be used to gain social and political power in society, either because people adore you and want to follow you, and/or because they fear you), and having that type of power isn’t dependent on class position or family history*, it’s essentially random chance if someone is force sensitive or not. Which creates a threat to the types of societies depicted in Star Wars where there are durable ruling classes who want to maintain power.

And I think the Jedi Order offers a solution to this problem by capturing that type of ‘organic capital’ for lack of a better term; you monopolise an institution responsible for moulding force sensitive people into a particular type of subject - one that is not a threat to the prevailing societal order - and in exchange for being forced to be a Jedi you get massive amounts of privilege via access to knowledge, social status, material needs, and so on. While this creates civil unrest and distrust of the Jedi from a lot of laypeople, it’s a pretty sweet deal in the eyes of the Republic if it means not having to deal with rival force sensitive groups using their power to make political demands, especially through violence.

I think looking at it this way explains why the Jedi don’t really accept or allow any other type of force user, especially as they become more enmeshed with the Republic (the coven in the acolyte is a good example, the dathomiri witches, etc), and why a lot of force users who are not Jedi are labelled Sith, either because they adopt that label themselves or because they’re labelled that by the Jedi. And I’m not saying “the sith are just misunderstood victims” or whatever, but that in a scenario where you have a very powerful monastic order that controls how the rest of society understands and interacts with force sensitivity, force users who fall outside of that are going to be treated as a criminal class who are a threat to the republic (because they are - Maul is treated this way, Dooku and Anakin quite literally topple the Republic, etc). So like in the settings Star Wars tends to play in, force sensitivity is narratively understood as a source of incredible potential power, and capturing that power via an institution like the Order makes sure that power potential is not disruptive to prevailing society and power interests. Which is why I think the Jedi do have a fairly good rationale for taking kids and training them, even if that rationale is tied to the maintenance of the status quo - the Order’s power depends upon the maintenance of their own monopoly

*KIND OF. obviously some of the canon loves doing blood lineages with palpatine and shit, the midichlorian thing, etc. which sucks so bad. But general canon consensus as far as I know appears to be that anyone can potentially be force sensitive

[a-killer-obsession]

It's a SMUT Blog so I'm not shy to ask 😋.. Kid and Killers dicks..how do they differ from eachother? Length and Girth? Piercings? Hair? Circumsized with thick veins? 🤤

I saw this right before going to sleep but I was too eepy to answer, so instead I just kept thinking about it which means now it's gonna be a whole thing *flexes fingers*

I won't talk on circumcised tho cos its not really a thing in my country so I don't know much about it, in all my years of slutting around I never met a circumcised dick, but I'll include some other saucy details

Anway, now presenting:

☠️ Kid Pirates ☠️

Equipment headcannons 🍆

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

Kid

Smallest of the gang in length at barely 7" but built like a fucking monster energy can with a girth that'll split you right in fucking half

No piercings, thick prominent veins. Hes pale as hell and that extends to his dick, with skin that translucent its practically red when it's engorged

I think since he never even has stubble after being in prison that he can't actually grow a beard, so by that thinking I reckon he doesn't actually have much hair on the rest of his body other than a thin ginger scattering. So his bush is bright fucking red and untrimmed but there's not that much to begin with

The biggest balls you'll ever see on a man, he's built for breeding

Decently big loads when he comes, but they're super thick so they don't go far

Absolutely rancid dick tho tbh, it'll have you gagging for all the wrong reasons. Someone get this man in a bath fr

Grower

Killer

Second longest after Wire at 8", slender and fairly smooth, the prettiest dick you'll ever see with a slight curve (like his scythes, ha)

One piercing at the end that Kid convinced him to get, he'll use his devil fruit to vibrate it if he wants Killer's ✨️attention✨️

Slightly darker than his tan skin, pretty in pink at the head

Thick blonde pubes that stand out against his tanned skin, with a lovely happy trail, but he keeps it tidy and clean 👌

Cums a shit ton, long thin spurts that'll cover your whole torso and maybe even get your face if he's pent up. Masturbating is a whole fucking ordeal for him cos of the cleanup

Grower, but impressive flacid anyway

Heat

7.5", somewhere between Kid and Killer's girth, slightly more bulbous towards the end.

Strange colour considering his strange grey-brown skin. His dick is almost purple brown, more purple at the head.

Set of three piercings like a ladder up the underside. Veiny but not as prominent as Kid.

Full bush baby, and its WILD down there. Thick blue pubes to match his hairy legs and happy trail, he's never even considered trimming.

The most average cumshots of the crew, a pretty regular amount, generic consistency, short spurts, maybe long enough to hit your tits if he's pent up. Absolutely drips precum though

Shower (I realise now that word has two meanings. I mean show-er. Obviously)

Wire

An absolute fucking monster to match his height. 10" and THICK. Got into BDSM purely because it takes so fucking long to prep someone to take him that he needed something to spice up the long foreplay. There's no possibility for a quickie with this man, its a whole ordeal (please ask me about my Kid Pirate kinks please please please 🙏 edit: here they are)

Dark brown, almost chocolate at the tip. Veiny as hell. So big and heavy that it can't support it's own weight so its always dropping even full mast

Clean shaved, Wire is a man who takes the upmost pride and care when it comes to his dick. No piercings because his dick is already so massive he's scared the pressure would rip them clean out when he fucks

Hes like a endless fucking volcano when he cums and it's THICK. He prefers to finish inside but it's always so much that combined with his size it simply won't all fit. You'll be dripping for hours afterwards

Shower, I don't know where this man is keeping it in those shorts, tucked for sure