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karalynlovescake · 2 years

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2023 writing list

Not exactly a New Years resolution, as those don't often pan out, but more of a personal checklist. Please feel free to stroke my ego by asking me about any of these. If I remember I'll update with links as I finish.

I did not expect to start writing again in 2022, and the fact that I did is completely because of Sandman and the amazing tumblr fandom for it. So. Things I would like to write/finish in 2023:

1.) Black Unicorn AU: it has languished while I put off rereading the source material and write other things. I know HOW it ends but I don't like the ending scene I've written and until I do it won't click. But no one else is going to write this one so we'll keep working on it.

2.) He Would Not Say That: which has expanded to the point where I'm overwhelmed by it and overthinking the morality of fucking your boyfriend's dream subjects, which is a buzzkill because it was supposed to be very un serious sex comedy. Hob would give Chidi Anagonye a massive stomach ache if I could justify the crossover.

3.) Crack one-shot: Come Live With Me and Be My Cat - a spin-off of love to Avelera’s amazing fic and inspired by that great picture that @twottie-m8 did of Hob throwing Cat!Dream at the Corinthian

4.) Some kind of SandOmens side piece PROBABLY attached to Least of These so we can have a good fun "you built a what to whom" reaction from Aziraphale and Crowley.

4a.) The Next Level - wrote this instead, a very soft fluffy little piece where Dream asks Aziraphale and Crowley for advice on being the type of friends who hold hands. We'll see if that scratched my itch to write SandOmens.

5) Actually, let’s throw The Least of These on this list. Didn’t include it before because I started it in Nov/Dec, but it was SUPPOSED to be a soft smutty 5k and now it is 25k and is more plot than smut, and has taken up more of my time than I anticipated

6) As of yet untitled longfic #1: if published will be two separate works, part one a setup of "Dream shows up every couple of years for sex, but in a different disguise every time because he thinks he's smart" and part two is your standard fishbowl rescue/let's rewrite season 1, because we like them. I want this to be better than I feel I'm capable of writing but I keep plonking away at it, and it's 16k words already, which is too much for me to give up on.

7) A Secret Third Thing: (not actual title) where I come to terms with the fact that in killing off Morpheus by having him put half his soul in the Corinthian I accidentally made an OC that I'm kind of interested in.

8) Honeymoon piece: I don't want to write the wedding, that sounds exhausting, but Hob wants to honeymoon somewhere he hasn't been where they can just be themselves, and Dream takes him to a little side project he, Delirium and Destruction started a few centuries back: a friendly desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while everyone pretends to sleep. The King of Nightmares is a minor celebrity in Nightvale, and he gets to show off his new husband. Silly.

8a) I did, in the end, write a wedding, if a rather hasty one, so we have: Then maybe, maybe, maybe you'd stay which was written almost entirely in 72 hours in a tiny hotel room in a foreign country 6000 miles from home, after my husband's passport got stolen 15 hours before we were supposed to fly home, thus turning the end of our dream vacation into nearly a literal nightmare. Apparently I stress write. You learn things when you travel.

9) The Financial Crimes of Hob Gadling, only of I can think of a way to do it that shows off my special interest without publishing a "How to crime" guide.

10) Longfic #2, working title "All the Things That Lie Undone" - loosely based off the plot of a favorite out of print smutty historical romance novel. Basic plotline is worked out, but so far all that's written so far is the first two chapters and one sex scene.

11) Longfic #3 which has eclipsed all desire to work on Longfic #2, which will hopefully be my Centennial Husbands Big Bang entry.

12) Anything I want, there are no rules, I have permission to have fun and make myself feel happy.

#writing #new years resolution

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rabbitproduce · 2 years

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The Musical Leitmotifs of The Batman

so, it's been awhile since i took music theory, but i noticed something really fun about the musical scoring of The Batman. it's probably pretty obvious to anyone with musical training, but i imagine for theater-goers who didn't have the time to pause and rewind like i did, it was probably something they only subconsciously noticed.

SPOILERS FOR THE BATMAN UNDER THE READ MORE

so there are at least Two main musical leitmotifs in The Batman. for those of you who don't know, a leitmotif is a recurring theme throughout a musical piece, associated with a particular person, idea/concept, or situation. Homestuck fans may be most familiar with this concept, with songs like Showtime or Sburban often heard in later songs/flashes in the webcomic. Sideways has a great video on this.

so the first leitmotif is Batman’s. if you listen closely to the song, especially around 5:28, you'll realize that the entire leitmotif is only two notes, played over and over again: B♭ and G♭ (B♭, B♭-B♭, G♭, B♭), played in 4/4. it's essentially a march. in fact, with how slow and steady it is and how often the notes are played as tolling bells, it reminds me of a funeral march, which i'm sure was intentional.

and this leitmotif is really fitting for Batman (no, i don’t mean Bruce), it reflects his slow and steady persistence (and relentless pursuit) for vengeance. this leitmotif actually plays almost entirely throughout the movie: it's the first thing we hear as the movie opens up and pans over the various criminals, it plays whenever Batman is investigating, and it even plays (at a still relatively slow pace, with drums) during the car chase as Batman chases Penguin down. it almost never speeds up too much either, and stays at a relatively slow, unhurried pace to reflect how Batman's vengeance is persistent and seemingly inevitable. or something.

there's also a fun bit when Bruce is making his little word cloud and spray painting it on the floor. the leitmotif is actually played as a canon, so that the motif plays over and over itself to reflect the spiral and confusion Bruce is feeling, without ever losing that slow persistence in the motif itself. a very nice touch!

you’ll also notice that the song that plays when Batman is helping with the rescue after the flood, that Batman’s leitmotif is only present at the beginning. but, as he comes to the realization that he needs to be more for Gotham, it disappears entirely and is replaced by more tender, intimate violins. his leitmotif disappearing musically represents how Batman is no longer merely vengeance, but is now hope.

anyway, the second leitmotif is the Riddler's: ave maria, by schubert. probably the most famous ave maria, played at religious ceremonies, weddings, and funerals. quite fitting, as the song plays whenever the Riddler is making his move—in fact, he outright sings it when he alludes to his plan to flood the city! i think the choice to make his theme as the ave maria was very deliberate: much like Batman's funeral march-like leitmotif, the ave maria is known as a funeral song, and the latin catholic lyrics version that's being used in this movie has a second stanza that i think fits pretty well with what the Riddler is doing:

Holy Mary, Mother of God, Pray for us sinners, Pray, pray for us; Pray for us sinners, Now, and at the hour of our death, The hour of our death. The hour, the hour of our death, The hour of our death. Hail Mary!

it is both a funeral song and prayer—not only for Gotham, but for the corrupt officials the Riddler is going after.

there’s also a very delicious part when Batman and Gordon enter the orphanage (heard here), where the notes are transposed up two half steps and then down a half step at the peak of the pitch: instead of the usual B♭, A, B♭, D, C, B♭, it is instead C, B, C, D♯, C♯, C♮ (or C, B, C, E♭, D♭, C). usually, when you transpose up a certain amount, you naturally expect it to follow through the entirety of the leitmotif, but by going down a half step during the middle of the leitmotif, it disorients the listener and makes for a very chilling/ominous song. (and then very soon after they enter the orphanage, they hear the original notes of the ave maria being played through speakers—right before they see the video about the Waynes, disorienting us yet again).

there’s also a very fun part of the music happening when the Riddler is kidnapping the police guy in his car, where the ave maria transitions near-seamlessly into Batman’s leitmotif, when the camera is showing us Batman meeting Gordon to discuss the investigation.

of course, this isn’t an exhaustive analysis of the musical scoring in the Batman, and i’m pretty rusty with music theory lingo, so this post isn’t perfect. but once i noticed this happening, i just couldn’t help myself from noting this down!

#the batman #the batman movie #the batman 2022 #the riddler #music theory #bunnie talk #if anyone wants to expand upon that little lighter-sounding motif that plays when Selina is around/near the end please go ahead #feel free to expand on this i literally wrote this out in an hour

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lacheri · 3 years

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11:29 PM, 4/20

pairing: stoner!Eren and fem bodied reader

content: smoking/drugs, dumbification, finger fucking, penetration, porn without plot, minors DNI

summary: eren's been trying to fuck you for years now, and he's got a different angle to play at this time. all it takes are a few pretty words and free weed.

wc: 3.5k

notes: happy 4/20 lmfao i wrote this in two hours and i'm posting this unedited and half asleep

‘Rolling up, you sliding through?’

Your phone illuminated brightly against your face as you held your phone above you, your bed’s soft comforter brought up to your chin. You bit your lip, contemplating Eren’s invitation. Your eyes glanced to the clock in the corner of your phone screen, blinking a couple of times. ‘11:29 PM’ it read back.

‘Pleaaaase, 4/20 is almost over ):’ Eren had resorted to double texting, and you sighed, his battle easily won. You tried to believe it was fought hard, but you knew perfectly well that you were wrapped around Eren’s pretty little finger. He called, you answered. Simple as that.

‘I want a blunt all to myself for this Jaeger. I’m literally in bed right now’ you typed back quickly, clicking the off button on the side of your device, begrudgingly throwing your blanket off your body as the heat escaped. You gazed down at your attire, sweatshirt and sleep shorts bundled up to your form, and you sighed once again. Eren was going to have to accept you like this, because there was absolutely no way in Hell that you could fathom throwing on real clothes this late at night.

‘What’re you wearing? Send pics’

‘Eren I’m LITERALLY!!! On my way to your house right now’. This boy was going to be the death of you, or at least whatever brain cells you had left.

Fuzzy pink slides adorned on your feet, hair thrown up in the messiest ‘neat’ bun you could manage, you pocketed your keys and wallet. You grabbed your bookbag in the corner of your room full of paraphernalia, knowing well by now that Eren was too lazy to buy bongs or bowls, and made your way out of your home, locking the front door on your way out. You hit the unlock button on your car, throwing the bag in the passenger seat and set out for your late night journey.

It wasn’t uncommon for your best friend to hit you up so late, in fact it was Eren’s peak hours for hanging out. He never genuinely inconvenienced you, just an annoyance because every single time you got that invite text or call, your head would have just hit the pillow beneath you, sleep on the horizon. Traffic was the best at this time too, you would reason on the way there, virtually no cars on the road, turning your usual twenty minute ride into a ten minute one.

When you rolled up Eren’s driveway, you could see the dark red lights of his bedroom through the upstairs window on the front of the house. You picked your phone out of your pocket, texting a quick ‘I’m here’. You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and climbed out of your car. By the time you made it to his front door, Eren was swinging it open, a goofy smile on his face.

“Just us tonight?” you asked, referring to the lack of cars in the driveway as you glided through the entryway.

“Yeah, feeling greedy. We haven’t hung out just us in awhile,” Eren smirked, leaning back and letting his eyes travel down your spine as you slid by him. He reached and pulled the door closed, locking it quickly and following quickly behind you.

You spent most of your nights here, knowing the pathway to Eren’s room. You jogged up the stairs, oblivious to Eren’s eyes trained in on your bouncing ass in your loose fitted shorts. His bedroom door was wide open, and you navigated over clothes thrown haphazardly on his floor to his unmade bed. You bounced as you sat down, hitting the mattress with your full weight and unzipping your bag, picking out your favorite bowl. Eren lifted the corner of his mouth, clearly amused at how at home you had made yourself.

“Comfy?” he asked, a teasing tone to his voice as he joined you on the bed, rolling tray and jar of bud in hand.

“Mhm,” you hummed, eyeing Eren’s hands as they set quickly to work. His grinder sat on the bed behind him, and after picking out a few clusters of green from the jar, he reached behind him and popped the top off, going through the motions of getting prepped for the smoke session. “What’d you do today?”

Eren shot you a dumb founded look, “It’s 4/20, what do you think I’ve been doing all day?”

You rolled your eyes, throwing your hands up in surrender, “Just making a joke, asshole.”

He chuckled, extending his hand out so you could pass him your bowl, packing it not long after. Eren looked around his mattress for a lighter, eyebrows drawn together as he couldn’t find one. You smirked then, extending the black lighter you had packed in your bag, and Eren smiled gratefully. He flicked the lighter once it was in his possession, pointer finger resting over the choke as he placed the pipe to his lips, inhaling deeply as the fresh green turned to ash. He lifted his long finger off the choke hole, removing the pipe as he held the smoke in for a few seconds, eyes instantly glazing as he exhaled.

Eren was one of those smokers that the second he had a hit of weed, it was written all over his face that he was high, even if he wasn’t. When Eren picked up the habit in highschool, his parents knew instantly what the boy had been doing during his “study sessions” with his friends. Now that he was an adult and moved out of his childhood home, Eren was pretty free in his indulgences, no longer carrying around eye drops to try and help him appear as innocent as possible.

After his second hit, Eren passed you back your bowl and lighter, coughing lightly as he exhaled, “What about you? What’d you do today?”

“Not much, spent all day watching documentaries and smoking my vape,” you laughed lightly, positioning the pipe to your own lips.

Eren’s eyes drank in the sight of your pretty plump lips as they wrapped around the tip of the pipe, fingers copying his as you bent your finger over the choke. The lighter ignited after a single flick, warm colored flames illuminating your face. It was like Eren was watching you in slow motion, but it was always like that with you, even when he wasn’t high. He could see the fire in your eyes as they focused downwards to your actions, and Eren felt his mouth go dry. You pulled the bowl away, making eye contact with him as the smoke exited your lips, licking your face as it traveled towards the ceiling on your exhale.

The two of you made small talk as you passed the bowl back and forth, Eren making a face once the bud was dead. He packed another bowl, repeating the rotation until that one was dead. The two of you thoroughly fried, he put the pipe on his bedside table and leaned his back against the wall by his bed. You mirrored him, resting your head on his broad shoulder as the two of you enjoyed each other’s company.

“We should make edibles this weekend,” you suggested, fingers playing with the drawstring of your hoodie. “Maybe invite the group over and get zooted and play a game or something.”

“Zooted?” Eren snorted. “I haven’t heard that word in years, grandma.”

You shot Eren a glare, which he began to laugh at, “I’m hip, okay? Zooted is making a comeback.”

“Stop trying to fit in with the youth, Myrtle,” he teased, wrapping his arm around your waist to tuck you into his side. “Man, if I was only 50 years older.”

You lightly elbowed his side, “You wish you could bag 70 year old me. I’m a fucking catch.”

“I wish I could bag you period,” Eren confessed, probably for the hundredth time of you knowing him. “How come you’ve never let me take you out?”

“Because, you’d just fuck and dump me and then I wouldn’t have a plug anymore,” you pouted, purposefully snuggling in closer.

“Is that what you really think?” he asked seriously, positioning his neck to the side so he could look down at you.

You looked up, centimeters apart from his face, “That’s what you did with all the other girls.”

“But you’re my best friend,” Eren frowned, taking his hand and pushing your hair behind your ear. “I wouldn't do that to you.”

“Don’t know if I wanna’ really find that out,” you smiled sadly.

“C’mon, let me prove it to you,” Eren licked his lips. “Fuck me, right now, and I’ll take you out tomorrow.”

You felt a pulse in your pussy suddenly, gulping spit down as you broke the eye contact, “I don’t know ‘Ren. We’ve been friends since highschool, what if it makes things weird?”

“You can’t look me in the eyes right now and tell me that you’ve never thought about it, about us,” his voice was a hare above a whisper. “Because I think about it all the time. ‘Is why I hit you up all the time, I like you stupid, I always have.”

This confession was so different from all the other ones. Eren was practically begging to let him in between your legs on a weekly basis, ever since you had met him. Never once had he been this honest though, so genuine sounding about his feelings. He had a point as well, you thought about being with him all the time. You were always at his house or going out somewhere together, you spent all your free time with him, of course you would have feelings for Eren.

“If,” you started, your eyes blinking rapidly as you returned your gaze to his red ones. “I say yes, and things are weird after, we’re going to pretend like this never happened and we go back to being friends.”

“Deal.”

Eren’s lips crashed into your’s, any and all hesitation rolling off your body as you eagerly returned his kiss. His other arm circled you, bringing you in somehow even closer to him as your hands grabbed both of his cheeks, feeling the flex of his jaw as you smashed your lips together. Eren’s hand traveled under the hem of your sweatshirt to the small of your back, guiding you to sit in his lap. Legs on either side of his hips, your tongues slipped through the both of your lips, meeting in the middle.

Maybe it was the high, maybe it was Eren, but the throbbing in your cunt only expanded as Eren smoothed his hands all over the middle of your torso. They traveled up to the swell of your breasts, free from a bra, cupping both tits in his large hands. His thumbs slid and teased your nipples, hardening instantly under his touch. You arched your back, pushing your chest into his palms even more, your hips flicking as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers.

You both moaned into each other’s mouths at the roll of your hips, feeling Eren’s dick harden fast underneath your clothed center. Eren had been wearing a pair of thin grey sweatpants, leaving not much to the imagination while he was in this state. You felt his lips scrape against your bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth and sucking gently. He released it, a string of saliva linking to the two of you together.

“I’ve been imagining this for forever,” Eren’s eyes were glazed and deep red when you met his gaze. “I just never thought this would happen.”

“I’ve been wanting you too,” you admitted, your dirty little secret exposed.

He smirked at your confession, hands still toying with your breasts. Silencing you once more with his passionate kiss, he moved his hands downwards and to your back until he met the waistband of your shorts. He easily slid under the hem, gripping your ass in his palms, kneading and spreading you apart. You felt your pussy flutter, the indirect contact sending you into a deep pit of arousal, your senses heightened greatly.

It was like Eren could read your mind, and his fingers traveled to your spread cunt over his lap, running a finger over your slit over your panties. You whined, pressing your hips down to achieve a greater pressure from his hand, in turn allowing your wetness to seep through the cotton of your panties. Eren chuckled against your lips, reading your body language loud and clear. He pushed the fabric aside, allowing his knuckles to brush directly into your folds. You moaned into his mouth as he spread your arousal around your vulva. When his thumb bumped against your clit, you felt your patience snap entirely.

“‘Ren, need your fingers, now,” you panted, eyes half lidded as his kiss traveled to the underside of your jaw.

“You got it, baby girl,” he hummed into your skin. There was no resistance as he pushed his middle finger into your opening. “Fuck, you’re fucking soaked. This all for me?”

You couldn’t find your voice, nodding and whining out as he pumped his single digit into your pussy. His touch was slow, deliberate, trying to memorize every single ridge and flutter of your walls as you pulsed around him. Eren’s mouth was dry, dick hard and throbbing, completely lost in the feeling of you sucking his finger in deeper. He couldn’t comprehend the fact that his cock would be replacing his fingers soon, finally fucking you like he had imagined for years now.

His middle finger dared to pull out, and you let out a desperate whine, thinking that was his plan. You gasped in relief and pleasure as his ring finger pushed past your entrance, clenching tightly on his fingers. Eren found solace in this, perceiving your flutters as permission to go finger fuck you at an ungodly pace. He positioned his wrist as a more comfortable angle, and his fingers pumped inside of you at the speed of light.

Your eyebrows came together, mouth hanging open as you squeaked and whined, Eren’s other hand finding purchase on your jaw. He squeezed your cheeks together lightly, forcing your lips to pout as he maintained direct eye contact with you. His own lips hung open, and you could see your reflection in his blown out pupils. It only enticed you more, you looked heavenly. Eren couldn’t have worded it before himself if you had verbalized this, whole heartedly agreeing with you.

“You’re so tight,” Eren groaned out, his hand leaving your chin and slipping two fingers in between your lips. “Suck, baby.”

You did as you were told, Eren’s fingers slowing to fuck up into roughly, hitting your sweet spot over and over. Your tongue circled around his knuckles, lips vibrating on his fingers as your moans were silenced. Eren was thoroughly enjoying himself, seeing you completely under his control like this. You were putty in the palm of his hands, literally.

He slid his fingers out of your cunt so suddenly, feeling the gush of your arousal against your inner thighs as his hand left your shorts. His other hand fell out of your mouth, moving back to your jaw as you felt the wetness of your spit spread across your face. Eren brought the hand he was fucking you with to his own mouth, and you were practically drooling at the sight of him sucking your pussy juices off of his fingers.

“Delicious,” he cooed after he pulled them from his lips. “Just like I always imagined.”

You took this as your opportunity to remove some of your clothing. You tugged your hoodie over your head, tossing it on the floor. Eren followed suit, removing his own white t-shirt and reattaching his lips to yours. You tasted hints of yourself, not at all repulsed, in fact the exact opposite. You tasted sweet, tart but sweet.

You pushed yourself away from Eren, scooting off his lap in order to tear off your shorts and panties. Eren mirrored you, almost ripping his pants and boxers off as he slid them past his thighs and ankles to the floor. He remained in his seated position, eyes swirling and fingers twitching at his sides as he watched your crawl back to him. You placed a sloppy kiss to his lips before turning your body around, placing your feet on the mattress on either side of his lap. Sat in a full crouch now, you grabbed Eren’s cock, pumping him a few times with both of your hands in a screw motion. He moaned from behind you, his own hands gripping your ass cheeks to support your frame.

You guided Eren to your hovering pussy, teasing your clit, soaking him in your dripping heat. He cursed underneath you, his right hand moving to your hip as you lowered yourself on his length. Eren groaned loudly as the feelings of satisfaction and relief flowed through his body, his own heightened senses taking over. You moved to rest on your knees when you felt Eren bottom out inside of you, a string of moans and whimpers leaving your lips. You arched your back and Eren leaned back more, eyes stationed on your beautiful round ass.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he ran a hand up to the back of your head, untangling your messy bun so your hair fell free down your back. “C’mon baby, bounce on my dick.”

You lifted your hips, slamming down to his pelvis urgently. It was so overwhelming, the feeling of his cock filling you to the brim making your brain empty. Your eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open dumbly as drool coated the swell of your lips. You bounced again, and Eren yanked your hair back as he watched your pussy stretch around him, close to snapping and drilling into you as he saw the creamy ring form around his base. You were a moaning mess, unable to think clearly as your body took over. Pushing all your weight into your knees and palms resting on Eren’s thighs, you fastened your pace, ass bouncing every time Eren’s fat tip brushed up against your cervix.

You felt the sharp sting on your cheek and heard the resounding slap of his hand on your right cheek, tears springing to your eyes, “Fuck, Eren, you feel so good.”

Taking your hips into his strong hands, Eren was finally at his brink as he thrusted hard up into. You yelped, letting yourself go limp as he slammed into your cunt at a dangerous pace. He was in full control now, fucking you into a stupor.

Your hand left it’s home of his thigh, traveling to your aching center to rub your clit. Eren’s position was perfect, rubbing the underside of his shaft against your g-spot. When you opened your eyes, you could see his toes curling, legs flexing and twitching. He wasn’t going to last long, your pussy putting him under a spell. You circled your clit with your pointer and middle fingers, throat raw from all the noises escaping you. All you felt was Eren, all you could hear was Eren, he was filling your entire being up, replacing any and all thoughts they may have lingered in your brain.

“Gonna’ cum,” you whined, fingers moving even faster.

“I’m so fucking close, fucking cum baby,” Eren growled, thrusts desperate and becoming irregular.

You stilled above him, a breathless scream heaving from your throat as you gushed around him. Your pussy clenched so tight, and Eren couldn’t hold back. Because as empty as your brain was, Eren was in the exact same state as he shot his thick load into you, filling your tight cunt up with his cum. You milked his cock, walls convulsing in your mind blowing orgasm. Black spots appeared in your vision when you realized you had forgotten to breathe, you took a deep gasp of air.

You were a panting, sweaty mess hovering over him. Eren was in awe, watching beads of his white seed leak out of your center. He’d worry about the consequences when his brain could comprehend what had just happened, but for now, the deep primal urge of filling you up was sedated. Eren didn’t think he could’ve imagined fucking you for the first time any better than this. And when you finally lifted your hips to release him, he felt a wave of sadness, your beautiful pussy no longer surrounding him.

“Did you, oh my God, Eren,” you lifted your hand in front of you, seeing the creamy white of his cum smeared on your fingers. “You came inside of me?”

“Sorry, baby,” he caught his breath as you turned your head over your shoulder to glare at him. “I’ll buy you Plan B in the morning, promise.”

“I’m on the pill, but still,” you huffed, letting the anger leave you as you realized Eren would take responsibility. “You didn’t know that.”

Eren laughed without humor, “Oh well, at least I know for next time. Now c’mere, wanna’ hold you while I roll a blunt.”

#eren jaeger #eren smut #eren x reader #attack on titan #eren fanfiction #stoner eren #tw: weed #eren yaeger #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin eren #shingeki no kyojin

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dreamgrlarchive · 4 years

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Pretty Girl At Home Library🦋

As I’m sure we all can agree, all this free time we’ve had has had to be spent doing something, right? I’ve implemented an hour of reading daily into my self improvement routine. It’s added to my confidence, and my hobby list. I don’t think a girl can truly become her highest self without expanding her mind and the information she already knows.

Here I’m going to share my reading collection with you all and some of my favorites. All of these books can be found on amazon.com ✨

Beauty: all of these have taught me new techniques for my regimens. and have also taught what I need to STOP. so far my personal fave is the Bobbi Brown Makeup Manual. I’m super into makeup and cosmetics and this book leaves nothing out. it elaborates on skincare, tools, skin types, careers. if you’re even semi interested in makeup or esthiology, I recommend this. ♡

Inspo and Fashion: as a fashion student I’m always trying to learn techniques, find inspiration for looks, and I love to hear the journey of another woman who was once like me. all of these books have a great aesthetic, offer really nice fashion tips, quite literally are meant for fashion students, or inspire me heavily. The Fashion Design Reference and Specification Book is a MUST for anyone who wants to pursue a career in fashion. it’s literally all you need. it’s extensive but an easy read and any fashion icon deserves this book.

Self Help: in the TREND of becoming your highest self, a lot of people are taking in potentially harmful information, and focusing on the wrong first steps in general. in order to become exclusive you have to know in your heart, underneath the voice and dresses and heels that you are untouchable. it’s more than just dainty jewelry and Louis Vuitton handbags, two things I love. it is definitely easier said than done but to truly reach your full potential you have to try. getting to know yourself and integrating positive traits in your person should come before you listen to a YouTuber tell you how to dress in order to appear worthy a womanly existence. (in no way am I saying these women are giving bad advice, I watch some of them even, but they are giving advice on the additives, and the embellishments) no handbag, heels, or makeup look will convince anyone, ESPECIALLY NOT A MAN, to like you if you don’t know that underneath it all you are truly high value. your soul is high maintenance and cannot be impressed with bare minimums, not just your exterior or bank account. Je Ne Sais Quoi hits all facets of this, truly. it teaches confidence, personal style, healthy habits, charm, and just overall excellence. if you take nothing from this part of the post, please go buy this book. also Style Your Mind is amazing. it’s almost like guided journalling. it’s fun and easy but when you go back and read what you wrote, you learn much about yourself, even some hard truths. this is a crucial step to self acceptance and improvement.

Love and Spirituality: these books have honestly been maybe the most interesting part of my readings. this may be because I’ve never read books like these, and new experiences tend to stand out. these books focus on healing and channeling positive energies we all hold within us or teach us the tricks of the trade when dealing with men. I personally am a HUGE fan of The Power of the Pussy and Heal Thyself. the first one is a true no nonsense book on these men out here. you might even get your feelings hurt reading some parts. consider this growing pains and it’s also overall entertaining. the latter being a book heavy on spiritual routine and AMAZING recipes to serve your soul. let me tell you I love the recipes in this book, they’re so flavorful and feel amazing going down. it may be the placebo effect but I just feel like I’m doing my body a favor every time I read something in this book.

Miscellaneous: overall, all of these are really fun reads. if you’re into my aesthetic and want something light and entertaining, you HAVE to buy this Clueless book. I love it, I literally read it in my Cher narration voice. it’s a true collector’s item. or if you love astrology or are even a little interested but don’t understand really, check out The Complete Guide to Astrology. this is how I learned my houses and planetary signs. learning my planet signs was so fun and interesting. 100% recommended.

Extras:

Dream Girl Journey Readings

www.luxegirldiaries.com How to Find Your Signature Style

@babyphat05’s website www.sheissobougie.com features many printables and articles that are well put together and useful.

www.manifestationbabe.com Manifesting Type Quiz Results, Five Step Manifestation Process

#i worked so hard on this #books #reading #my posts #fashion #self help #spirituality #black femininity #beauty #quarantine #self improvement #level up

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qlala · 3 years

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pleeease can we have more teacher barry au? or kidfic? my crops are dying

Alright, sorry for the slight delay on this one, but please know that you're a menace and I kept thinking about it and then I wrote this for you all in one sitting.

It's both teacher!Barry (though still set in the canon universe!) and coldflash kidfic. <3 I just put it up as a prequel to "good cop, bad cop" on ao3, since I guess it technically is that? Although, if you guys have opinions about what order the series should be in, I'd interested to hear it!

“Barry?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve got something in your hair.”

Barry hid a wry grin, and glanced over at Len—at least, glanced as far in his direction as he could manage. Two small hands were holding his head still, though Henry did let go of one handful of Barry’s hair to reach out when Len stepped around the coffee table and stood in front of them.

“Alright, kid.” Len bent down and hoisted Henry off Barry’s shoulders, and both of them ignored Barry’s indignant yelp when Henry didn’t quite remember to let go of Barry with his other hand in time. “I like the hair too, but he’s gotta move his head to”—Len propped Henry on his hip and reached out to steal the top page from the stack of papers in front of Barry—“grade pop quizzes.”

“Those are midterms.” Barry stretched, then tipped his head to one side with a muffled crack.

“Then you’re going easy on them.” Len took advantage of his distraction to hand the paper to Henry, who scrunched it in his hand with a broad smile.

[read on ao3, or continue reading below the cut]

“Len!” Barry recovered the paper in a sweep of yellow lightning, and Len traced his trajectory from the fading after-image even as Barry tried to smooth out the test on the arm of the couch.

“So feet on the coffee table are allowed when the Flash does it?”

“Language,” Barry reminded him, without looking up.

Henry, ever the trooper, was taking the loss of his prize in stride, and Len rewarded him by bending his knees to let him reach for the next paper in the stack.

“Leonard.”

“He’s working on his reading.”

“He’s eighteen months old.”

Len read the upside-down paper Henry was offering to him. “Another year for whoever’s test this was, they might be at his level.”

Barry got the same ruffled look he always did when he was torn between defending his students and agreeing with every hyperbolic praise Len had for their son. Eventually, he landed on, “You’re not helping.”

“I disagree.” Len accepted the paper from Henry, turned it right-side up, and finished skimming it. “You’ve got a typo in question three. That’s why they’re all putting ‘hydrogen.’”

Barry yanked the exam back, despite having a stack of identical ones on the table in front of him. His eyes went wide as he looked over it at Flash speed, and then he said a word that made Len cover one of Henry’s ears with his free hand and tut.

“You shape the minds of the next generation with that mouth?”

Barry wasn’t listening, too busy dragging his hand down his face, his fingers ending up in an annoyed fist over his mouth.

“Can you please,” he said slowly, evenly, with the couples-shrink-approved, conflict-management voice that always made Len smirk, “give Henry his snack.”

“With pleasure.”

Barry leveled him a glare, but it was without heat, and he tilted his chin up in a clear request for a kiss when Len passed behind the couch again.

Len obliged. He could feel some of the stress drain out of Barry’s shoulders when he drew his fingertips over the edge of Barry’s jaw with the hand not still supporting Henry.

“Hi,” Barry murmured when Len pulled back, at least a full minute later than he’d intended. “Missed you.”

“I was gone an hour.”

Barry’s answering smile was crooked, with an unabashed dimple that Len refrained from tracing his thumb over; he had a reputation to protect. “You know, you could just say it back sometimes.”

“Fine.” Len smirked as he tweaked a cowlick that Henry had left in Barry’s hair. Then he met Barry’s gaze, all false sincerity, and drawled, “Hi.”

Barry rolled his eyes. He couldn’t hide the wry smile even when he turned his head away for a second, though, and he gave Len a playful glare. “You know I meant—“

“Hi!”

For a second, neither of them moved. Then Barry reeled back with something like panic in his eyes, alarmingly contagious, based on the way Len’s heart tripped into fourth gear. “Did he just—“

Len hoisted Henry up to sit on the edge of the couch, and they both stared at him. He ignored them both for a few moments, small hand squishing the cushion before he watched it slowly expand back to its original shape. Then he noticed their eyes on him, and looked up with a beatific smile. “Hi!”

Barry was off the couch in a bolt of lightning, then back a heartbeat later with his phone out, talking so fast he was nearly incomprehensible. “Twice, Joe, I swear, he looked right at us—“

Len got a glimpse of Detective West’s patient expression on the phone screen as Barry waved it toward Henry. “Barr, you said that the last three times. I told you, kids talk when they’re ready. Iris didn’t say a word until she was—“

Barry turned the phone and held the screen out to Henry. Len bit back a reflexive objection; they’d agreed, no screens until he was five (and it’d be eighteen if Len had his way).

Henry reached out for the phone, all Barry’s reckless confidence when confronted with anything new.

Tinny over the speakerphone, West’s voice said, weary but unflaggingly affectionate, “Hi, Henry.”

Barry let Henry have the phone—and that time, Len did shoot him a look—and Henry flattened a tiny palm over West’s face on the screen. Then he tilted his head thoughtfully, lifted his hand, and chirped a delighted, “Hi!”

Barry swept him up with a rush of static that made Henry shriek with laughter, phone forgotten in an instant. Barry deposited them both at Len’s side with a breathless grin, and Len didn’t quite manage to disguise his own smile as a smirk when they looked up at him in unison. West’s voice was still coming from somewhere nearby, but Barry could fish the phone out from between the cushions later. For now, Barry was getting suspiciously bright-eyed, and Len lifted Henry out his arms before Barry could set the kid off crying, too.

“Who had ‘hi?’” he asked. He ruffled Henry’s hair, already overdue for a cut, dark and curling up at the ends. Henry only allowed it a moment before he started to fuss, his snack clearly not forgotten despite the excitement.

“Iris,” Barry hiccuped. He wiped the heel of his hand over both cheeks, then said, “She had ‘hi’ and ‘bye.’ She’s gonna be insufferable.”

“She’s gonna be rich,” Len countered. “Mick put ten grand on ‘Flash.’”

Barry shook his head on a laugh. “You did explain to him that we’re specifically not letting people say that in front of him? Given the whole”—he gestured, with a glimmer of lightning that distracted Henry into a fresh smile—”child’s grasp of a secret identity?”

“And deprive the pool of his ill-gotten gains?” He passed Henry back to Barry and tapped him on the tip of his nose. “Never.”

“She’s just gonna put it in a college fund.”

Len hummed, and didn’t mention the account he’d already placed a quarter mil into at the credit union downtown.

Barry’s eyes narrowed all the same. “What was that?”

“What was what, dear?” Len leaned hard on the pet name, flat and sarcastic, but he knew even before Barry straightened up that it wouldn’t work.

“That ‘hmmm.’ That was an I’m-not-telling-you-something ‘hmmm.’”

Len was saved by the bell, literally.

Someone leaned hard on the buzzer to the front door. A second later—and utterly predictably, given the number of metas in the family Len had married into—Wally West phased through the door, bouncing on his toes and looking around the room before he even finished setting Iris on her feet.

“Joe says Iris won,” he said.

Barry tore his suspicious gaze away from Len to blink over at the new arrivals. “Joe knew about the pool?”

“People on six different earths knew about the pool, Barr,” Iris said. She leaned on Wally as she toed out of her work heels. “Now, give me my favorite nephew. Can you say, ‘journalism school,’ Henry?”

Barry let her scoop Henry out of his arms, his brow still furrowed. “Wait, six different earths? How much was in the pool?”

He sounded a hair indignant, and Len took the opportunity to snake an arm around his waist and pull him back against his chest.

“Say the word,” he murmured against Barry’s ear, smiling when he felt him shiver. “I’ll get you triple by dinner.”

He felt Barry’s heart speed up where his back was pressed against him, and Len nipped the shell of his ear to cement his victory.

“No felonies,” Barry reminded him, but his voice was breathless, and he didn’t disentangle himself from Len’s arms.

“Mm, forgot again,” Len lied. “How about we send Iris and Wally to show Henry’s first word to Joe in person, and I make it up to you?”

A blush was climbing steadily up Barry’s neck, and he’d already shown his hand when he said, “The midterms. Progress reports go out Friday, I have to—“

“Telling me the fastest man alive can’t grade a stack of ninth grade chemistry tests before third period tomorrow?”

“They’re for my AP class,” Barry gasped, and he caught Len’s hand where he’d been tracing his fingers down Barry’s stomach. But he cleared his throat, then said, “Iris? Maybe you wanna bring Henry to the station? It would make Joe’s day.”

Iris gave him a knowing look, but her eyes were warm when she shared her smile with Len. “Mm. I bet it’ll make someone’s day.”

“Singh’s, probably,” Wally said, where he’d been drawing increasingly elaborate flowers of static out of the speed force for Henry’s fickle amusement. Then he glanced up. “Oh. Oh, you meant—yeah. Alright. I’ll grab the diaper bag. And congrats, you guys. On the first word, not the—“

Iris patted his arm and interrupted with, “The station, Wally?”

Wally ducked his head on a nod and gave them both a sheepish grin.

“Make sure your father doesn’t arrest my sister,” Len said. “She’ll show up as soon as she gets the intel out of Cisco.”

“No promises,” Iris said. “But I’ll give him the heads up. Bye, boys.”

The after-image of Wally’s lightning hadn’t even dissipated when Barry dropped his back against Len’s shoulder, one foot tapping rapidly. “Are we bad parents?”

Len nosed at the corner of Barry’s jaw and slid his fingers under the hem of his shirt. “No.”

“Maybe we should—should’ve, uh, reinforced it, more. He might get—confused. He said ‘hi,’ but we—oh my god, did we even say ‘bye?’ Len—“

Len spun Barry and pushed him back against the couch, then kissed him to distract him from looking anxiously at the front door. “You’re overthinking this.”

“I’m overthinking this,” Barry agreed. “No, I’m not. Len, his snack—“

“There are snacks at the station. Joe has a drawer full of Cheerios.”

Barry slid a hand through his hair, gave one last jittery look toward the door, and then slumped back against the couch with a laugh. “You’re better at this than me.”

“Already did it once,” Len said, smoothing the worry out of Barry’s brow with the pad of his thumb. “And look how Lisa turned out.”

It didn’t land the way Len had aimed it to. Barry gave him a warm smile instead of an alarmed look, and Len had to tick his gaze away for a break from the earnestness in that expression.

“Yeah,” Barry said. “Yeah, okay. Now maybe we could, uh, stop saying our family members’ names for a little while?”

Len rolled his eyes, but he allowed Barry a brief smile as he hooked his fingers in the front of his belt. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[❤️ Link to Ao3 ❤️]

#coldflash #my fics #leonard snart #barry allen #the flash #teacher barry au

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caneannabelle · 3 years

Text

ok hi guys. it’s been a while. i wrote this analysis back when Mag 187 aka Checking Out aka The One Where Helen Dies first came out and literally ever since i’ve posted it i’ve wanted to redo it because it feels. lacking. listen if there’s one thing i hate it’s incomplete media analysis and i must right my wrongs lest i be forced to look upon myself and crumble from within. that being said, i’ve been putting off this rewrite for a long long time bc Life Gets Weird. tldr this was written over the course of several months so i apologize for inconsistent quality. anyways let’s get into it!

part one: recap!

it’s been a while! let’s just go over what happened. the scene i wanna focus on in particular is this one:

VICTIM

You’ve got to help me!

ARCHIVIST

[Angrily] Don’t touch me!

[THE ARCHIVIST PULLS AWAY, AS THE VICTIM FALLS AND IS CRYING]

HELEN

Oopsie. Not so easy, is it? Keeping up your humanity?

(187).

that being said i’m gonna be kind of all over the place but! i do think that’s a good jumping off point.

part two (part one): disparaging everyone’s problematic fav

in my original post my point was that in reflexively reacting to a victim with disgust and anger jon inadvertently reveals the nature of his dedication to helping victims as ego driven, especially because this line is directly preceded by him asserting his moral high ground over helen as being a “protector” as opposed to her indulgence in destruction. what i’m saying is homeboy has a savior complex. honestly there’s a lot of evidence to support that claim but i think the most obvious example would be jordan kennedy. like.

JORDAN

…Yeah. But wrong. Sick.

What did you do to me?

ARCHIVIST

I helped you.

JORDAN

Helped me? I don’t feel right, I, I just – Ah! No I don’t – argh! I don’t want this!

(184). to be clear it’s an action with a good intent! he just wants to help someone who once helped him! BUT it also demonstrates a lack of conscious empathy. i feel like i don’t have to argue this since jordan Literally vocally said he didn’t want this several times throughout the scene but the point remains that while jon’s intent is good the actual application of his saviourism removes the autonomy of those he affects. i’m not gonna touch on the “is it objectively immoral to become an oppressor for the sake of self preservation while existing within an extreme system in which all are oppressed regardless of your individual status” query mostly because i do not have the brainpower available rn to come to my own conclusion about systems of power and the way they’re represented in tma (which is a whole other rant tbh) but jon DOES rob jordan of the ability to come to his own conclusion in this debate and make his own choice, thereby removing his autonomy. you know. autonomy. free will. the thing that is central to jon’s internal conflicts. huh.

anyways i NEED to stress that i’m not saying that he’s the same as jonah or the web or even annabelle (although annabelle is a victim. no i don’t take constructive criticism). i just want to point out that his actions reflect a lack of understanding. while he’s able to empathize with the pain others experience and is eternally hyper- aware of it he is unable to view that pain through any lense besides his own and uses it in his cycle of self pity and blame, minimizing it at any point possible in the quickest way and Not prioritizing the wishes of the victim but instead the efficiency in decreasing his own guilt. anyways back to 187- both the victim and jordan are treated as props by jon (and helen) and once they serve their purpose in reaffirming the two’s sense of self are cast aside and ignored. ok from here i’m gonna get conceptual and self indulgent bc it’s my analysis and i get to bring up vague convoluted philosophy.

part two (part two): part two

let’s talk about the distortion for a sec. i refuse to believe helen and michael were both completely gone and it was just the distortion piloting their visage, mostly because… like that’s not what the text would indicate

HELEN

Michael isn’t me. Not now.

ARCHIVIST

What happened?

HELEN

He got… distracted. Let feelings that shouldn’t have been his overwhelm me.

Lost my way.

(101). it’s heavily implied that there was SOME remainder of michael in there, even if the being wasn’t him. maybe i’m way off base here but the way i interpreted the implosion of michael was that it was driven by his inability to maintain the repressed resentment and anger he had for gertrude. like it’s pretty clear that some warped version of michael’s feelings were trapped inside of the distortion and i’d go as far as to say that they were integral to his formation as it. i’m gonna operate on the assumption that michael and helen are two separate beings here for a sec even though we know they’re not. As opposed to michael’s resentment for the archivist, helen actively sought refuge in the institute and from the small amount we saw of her Pre-Distortion it seems like her paranoia is internally directed. i think you could even say that while michael was caught in an eternal battle with the concept of connection, helen is caught in a battle with the concept of self. the point is that she thinks of jon in a less “The Archivist” sense and more as just That Guy who she had an intense connection with that one time.

ARCHIVIST

So… S-so what do you want?

HELEN

I don’t know. Helen liked you, so… there’s a lot to consider. But I will help you leave.

(101). i would also like to point out that helen’s emergence as the distortion coincides with jon coming to terms with his identity as the archivist. parallels, baby! SO helen is a newly formed being that is grappling with the concept of her own existence and jon is reevaluating his understanding of identity as he comes to terms with the fact that he is turning into the thing he’s fighting against and this is all happening at the same time. live laugh love. stay with me here, i promise i’ll get back to 187. Throughout seasons 4 and 5 helen attempts to validate her own moral decisions via jon who she once saw herself in. conversely, jon sees both an image of what he could become AND arguably a representation of his past failure in her.

ARCHIVIST

It did. I think… I mean, you remember how I was back then, how paranoid. The Not!Sasha was there, and I could sense something wasn’t right, but I just couldn’t place it. It left me a suspicious wreck. Then when Helen Richardson came in, it seemed like… she was in the same place I was, but worse, further along. I thought, maybe if I could help her, that would mean… maybe I wasn’t beyond help?

(188). helen and jon lie at opposite ends of the same spectrum. both of them derive pleasure from the suffering of others

HELEN

Oh, John! This existence can be wonderful, if you just let it.

ARCHIVIST

[Sadly] I know.

(187). needless to say that a LOT of jon's arc and the themes surrounding him focus on the concept of autonomy and addiction and i think it'd be fair to say that this component is an aspect of that. repressing these qualities is both a way of reaffirming his control and also just.. him trying to be what he perceives as Good, and season 5 is the point at which this comes to the forefront of his character- particularly the line between what is intrinsic and what he truly has control over. a battle of the concept of the self, if you will. while the two share similar traits, jon is intensely moralistic while helen indulges in a twisted sense of hedonism and both are fueled by an inability to expand their viewpoint. helen fully immerses herself within these qualities and intentionally blinds herself to any concepts of morality (indulgence), and jon actively pushes back on this as hard as he can and follows black and white moral framework (repression). this means that in order for their relationship to function he must either accept her, choosing to let go in his personal battle with autonomy OR she must break out of her worldview and conform to standards of human morality which goes against her own nature.

part three: questions i do not have the answer to

so. what does it all mean. WELL. 187 is the boiling point of all this tension. we know that helen relies on jon to validate her sense of self and we know that jon sees himself in helen, both past and present

HELEN

But that doesn’t make any sense. You barely met her. You had half an hour together, and she spent most of that ranting about mazes! She was positively delirious with paranoia!

ARCHIVIST

True. But as you’ll recall, I was pretty paranoid myself at that point.

HELEN

So what? You saw yourself in her? A sad reflection? A possible future?

(187). I’d argue that 187 is demonstrative of jon’s inability to either fall into complete indulgence in intrinsic values that lack moral validity vs. maintain and image of self that does not conflict with the values he attempts to uphold in order to find internal satisfaction and yes both of those concepts are inherently egocentric as he bases his moral judgement on what he can justify to himself instead of what can be calculated via empathy. however. paired with the alternative (helen). is that BAD. is it inherently selfish to do what you perceive as good in order to feed your own savior complex? and if so, is it inherently selfish to indulge in destructive qualities as to not delude yourself? is honesty vs deception a black and white question? if not, where does helen even fall? in not deluding herself does she achieve a moral high ground? IS she deluding herself by denying the potential to be facetiously benevolent at the detriment of both her personal enjoyment and her honesty? does helen even posses the capability to repress her violent qualities? if she doesn't, does she have any autonomy? if she and jon are both inherently selfish and intentionally resistant to introspection, what makes them different? i do not have answers but i do think the text is meant to invoke these questions. i mean,

MICHAEL (STATEMENT)

There was a great evil, she said, and Michael was going to help her fight it. Am I evil, Archivist? Is a thing evil when it simply obeys its own nature? When it embodies its nature? When that nature is created by those which revile it? Perhaps Gertrude believed so. Michael certainly did. He believed everything she told him.

(101).

part 5: conclusion

so once again. what does it all mean. well! even post helen’s death jon continues to fight for autonomy and preserve his moral worldview so. i think that probably indicates something good.

MARTIN

Huh. She couldn’t help what she was, I guess.

ARCHIVIST

She didn’t even try.

(188). i honestly don’t have a thesis i just find it incredibly interesting how the themes surrounding these two intersect and play off of each other. anyways looping back to 187 i do think in a broad sense jon killing helen is representative of him choosing to stick by his convictions and keep fighting. i don’t have any good way to end this but thanks for sticking around during my self indulgent rambling!

#also apropos of nothing but #this scene reminds me of a clive barker story #truly that has nothing to do w this analysis i just wanted to throw this in the tags #anyways! hope this makes sense #i had a friend who’s never listened to tma read over this to make sure that it’s coherent #and she said it was fine so.. alice ty #this was fun! i have lots of Thoughts on tma and i should write them more often #the magnus archives #mag 187 #jonathan sims #the archivist #helen richardson #helen distortion #michael shelley #tma meta #the distortion #the spiral #tma

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deeranger · 3 years

Text

Fic Writer Questions!

@oddsocksandstuff tagged me in this, thank you so much, sweetie! ❤️

1) How many works do you have on AO3? I’ve got 40 so far (of which 25 are SPN fics). There’s more to come!

2) What’s your total AO3 word count? 486,667, apparently. That tells me each of my fics has an average wordcount of 12,166.675… Seems about right. I was never any good at keeping things short.

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? Uhh… On AO3 I’ve written for Supernatural, Supernatural RPF, X-men (Cherik) and McFassy (James McAvoy/Michael Fassbender). But I’ve written a lot when I was younger that has never made it online, including NCIS, Pirates of the Caribbean, and lots of weird one-shorts starring everyone from Michael J. Fox to Kevin Sorbo from “Hercules: The Legendary Journeys”. 🤨

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos? “A Lesson to be Taught” – an SPN Wincest pwp fic where a dominant Dean fucks (and spanks) Sam and they discover that Dean apparently has a daddy!kink. Comes with a photo manipulation too! There be dick.

“Taking Game” – a semi-dark medieval Cherik (Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr from X-men) AU. Basically, Charles is a poacher hunting on king Erik’s land to his great dismay. And so, he’s captured and gets the choice between losing his life or serving the king for a bit… Dubcon and smut ensues. “Only Like This” – a little SPN Wincest dub-con fic about hopelessly pining Dean doping Sam just so he can touch and kiss his oblivious little brother. It’s okay. Sam won’t remember when he comes to. “It’s Only Carnal” – A dark SPN Wincest noncon fic where soulless!Sam needs to blow off some steam. And when it comes to carnal activities his brother isn’t exactly a novice – so why not use Dean’s body to make them both feel good? “Demonized” – a long and dark af SPN noncon fic written in collaboration with the awesome @palishere. Sam is captured by some nasty demons who use him to lure in his brother. At first it seems the demonic scumbags are just really perverted and have a weakness for sexual torture, but they turn out to have ulterior motives…

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not? Yes, always. I think it can be a bit demotivating for a reader to leave a comment and get zero response – and so, they might not bother to comment on the next fic. At least, that’s how I feel personally. And besides, I really want to let readers know that I appreciate them taking the time and effort to actually tell me what they think.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? Oufff… Seriously? How can I possibly pick just one when 99.8 percent of my fics are not only dark af but have gut-wrenching ambiguous endings as well? I, err… I’m gonna have to think really hard about this one, hold on… *Insert buzzing cicada sound*… Uhh… Well, I guess it might be… “Play or Pay” – a dark female!reader-insert Wincest fic where demon!Dean has you and Sam trapped somewhere underground. Sam ends up being on the receiving end of the demon’s cruelty when he tries to save you. Using Dean’s body the demon ends up raping Sam while the reader tries to escape to get help... There’s a little twist in the end. Loads of dead dove here, including death (not Dean or Sam). “The Orange Hour” – where undercover inmate!Dean has to rape CO!Sam in order to save both of their lives and get them out of the jail in one piece. It doesn’t go completely as planned. (Comes with an nsfw photo manipulation). “Demonized” – loads of bottom!Sam torture, full of hurt and absolutely no comfort... It’s just… I dunno, I think I and @palishere had a collective meltdown in the noncon and angst department. Sorrynotsorry.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written? Nope, I’ve never in my life written a crossover. Usually, I’m too laser-focused on 1 obsession at a time. I can’t multitask, okay?

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yes, the fandom purity police has visited me on AO3. The usual self-proclaimed know-it-alls vomiting their bullshit all over the comment section about how “problematic” noncon is and how “sick” I must be. I thought about moderating comments for a while, actually – but I just deleted their follow-up comments until they left me alone. 😤

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind? Yes!! Gimme! Usually, I write noncon smut or just good ol’ pwps that feature some sort of dominance. That’s it. That’s my jam. In general, the only smut I don’t write is the cute, fluffy, feel-good, cuddly stuff… My smut’s usually pretty rough and/or some sort of dub/noncon.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes. Someone stole “It’s Only Carnal” and posted it as her own on some Portuguese fanfiction site. She even replied to comments, answered questions and talked about how much she loved writing it, etc… Luckily a sweet mutual on Tumblr let me know about it and I reported her for plagiarism. The stolen fic was taken down shortly after and the account deleted. Goddamn thief. 😡

12) Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes. Honestly, I can’t remember which fic(s). But people have contacted me on AO3 and asked for permission to translate my stuff into Chinese. I have - of course - happily allowed them to. It’s such an awesome compliment to get, I think!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, 2. “Demonized” and the fluffy Ficfacers prompt fic “The Masks We Wear” starring Sam and Dean taking their pranks a step too far. Basically, the brothers get angry with each other and they need to talk it out… No smut in this one, can you believe it?!! But that was kinda the prompt we received. The prompt was literally: “Sam and fluff”. Anyways, both fics are co-written with the lovely @palishere. You can find her AO3 here. 😊

14) What’s your all time favorite ship? Wincest!!! Definitely. Gimme all the brotherfucking, please. No contest. And coming in on second place I guess there’s Samifer – never paired consensually, though. I just love Lucifer messing with Sam’s head and torturing him in all kinds of cruel ways.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? Oh, that’s a mean question… I have a noncon WIP where Sam and Dean are in prison. I wrote a whole story outline, gathered my own little dictionary of prison slang, etc… But I never made it past page 10 or something. Sam was supposed to get jumped by a gang of inmates and then Dean was supposed to helplessly watch from the sideline, offering to trade places if they’d just leave his little brother alone… And after that it’s all about a mix of healing and vengeance… But the story has been lying on the shelf for more than a year and I doubt I’ll ever continue it. Oh, wait! I almost forgot – I have a long Cherik WIP sequel to “To Have and to Hold”! Just checked, its wordcount is 18,729! Holy crap…. What a waste, huh? But I honestly don’t think I’ll ever finish it, because I’m not into Cherik anymore. That ship has kinda sunk for me…. So, now I’m hyperfixating on Supernatural, yeah?

16) What are your writing strengths? Description, I think. I just love details and setting the mood. I like to think I’m pretty good at writing in English too even though it isn’t my native language… I wish to be better and expand my vocabulary but I’m doing okay nonetheless.

17) What are your writing weaknesses? Description, I think. Yes, you read correctly. I often describe things TOO much. Sometimes to the extent where the pacing gets so slowed down that I feel like the scene loses its ‘feel’. I don’t know if it’s just in my head, but that’s my major concern about my writing. That and my signature ambiguous endings, lol.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? Love it. It can be difficult to pull off, but if you get it right it can be magical. Just don’t overdo it and make sure that the reader can follow. I don’t think I have any fics online where I do it, but I’m not a complete stranger to it either.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for? Ack, my poor brain trying to go back to when I was friggin’ 13… You know how many years ago that was?! 25!!! Okay!? *Huffs*…. Anyway, I THINK it might’ve been Keanu Reeves’ character in “Johnny Mnemonic”. Or maybe David James Elliott’s character as Harmon Rabb in the early seasons of “JAG”. I dunno. Either way this question makes me feel really old and I don’t appreciate it. Don’t @ me. 😅

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? That’s probably a tie between “The Orange Hour” and “It’s Only Carnal”. They’ve both got nice pacing and that’s my biggest challenge, I think. Also, I love the whole Morse code thing in “The Orange Hour”. I don’t even know what happened or how I came up with it, but hey, I can surprise myself if I want to, I guess! And of course there’s the smutty noncon and all of the hurt… So, those two fics are my personal faves. 😏

I’ll tag @jackandthesoulmates, @pinkoptics, @palishere, @wrenseroticlibrary, @decadent-prince, @negans-lucille-tblr, @juinae and @impala-dreamer and everyone else who feels like doing it! Feel free to ignore, of course.

#dee answers #fanfiction questions #personal

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radabadabing-bing · 3 years

Text

Wager of Weights

So embarrassing story, I wrote the bulk of this in 2019 and apparently had it like, almost complete?? I don’t know why I didn’t finish it then, but I cleaned it up and got it all ready to go because, while perhaps not totally reflective of my current work, there’s no point in tossing it down the drain. I will also say it’s not totally what I usually write, and my first time writing a lot of the content present in it, so it may also not be the best? But I’m a harsh judge of my own work haha. To clarify, this was (and still is) a gift for @pangtasias-atelier all the way when they were still Kink of the Emblem. And really I have to give him a lot of thanks for helping me grow this blog in the first place, so thanks for that. If you are somehow following me but not him, do that because he makes some good stuff (and comms good stuff too). And if you’re reading this right now- You’re awesome dude, love your work, and I hope you enjoy it!

It was no secret that the Summoner played favorites, and those favorites were Grima and Tibarn. One or the other was usually found by his side, and at times even both. But the problem had laid in the fact that there were two favorites...and one summoner. Tibarn didn’t seem to mind too much about this. So, perhaps more accurately, the problem laid with Grima.

Grima was a controversial figure among the heroes themselves- something of the territory coming with being an ancient dragon with little to no regard for human life. The Summoner had pacified Grima into being passive-aggressive to most of the others...Though Tibarn usually faced the aggressive half.

Grima had been feeling particularly vitriolic on this day. The Summoner had gone out on patrol without either him or Tibarn, leaving the two in awkward coexistence. “You know, if this vessel had the muscle your body had, I’m almost certain the summoner would enjoy my company much more. Enough to leave you behind.” “Really now?” As said, Tibarn didn’t mind the venomous words. He viewed the fell dragon as a bit of a blowhard, never really giving it too much thought. The guy thought he was on top of the world, and as a nigh impotent god he sort of was.

“Almost certainly.” Grima retorted, unaware of what he was starting here.

“Hmm...Well, why not a competition?” A good challenge had presented itself to Tibarn, he wasn’t about to miss the chance. “Me and you- We work ourselves harder than ever. We both commit ourselves to getting stronger and stronger, and see if your little theory there holds up.” “Deal.” Not a moment of hesitation from Grima. “I’ll come out on top- just you watch.” The King of Phoenicis grinned at this. It would be an interesting challenge at the least.

Tibarn only needed to ramp up his standard workout. A little more weight. A little more time spent doing it. The rewards of this weren’t immediately noticeable, but as the days rolled on his pecs seemed to bulge ever slightly more, abs right along with them. His thighs and calves refined to a great extent, looking in shape enough to crack stone. Biceps nearly tearing apart his sleeves, Tibarn finding himself needing more bandage to cover his arm to his liking.

Even his silhouette- already intimidating from a good height and wingspan, seemed to grow ever further. A few inches on both his height and wings. His clothes constrained ever so slightly more to contain his greater apex form.

Grima had a more interesting growth period. The vessel he inhabited needed no sustenance as long as he controlled it, and similarly had a nigh boundless energy pool, meaning that it was simply what effort he was willing to put into the competition. To self improve took valuable time away from being at the Summoner’s side, but not doing it would give the hawk a free victory, and Grima hated that even more.

The growth he had was more dramatic than Tibarn’s, but ultimately he could only just catch up. Just a few inches under the laguz, just able to lift a bit less than what Tibarn could, and most frustratingly seeing that the Summoner hadn’t actually changed who they spent the most time with. Proving Grima’s theory wrong. This had frustrated the dragon to no end, how could he possibly be wrong?

But during a session, where he attempted to still catch up to Tibarn, it dawned on him. He didn’t necessarily need to beat the hawk king, no. It was futile at this point, not without submitting himself further to this...mortal regimen. No, all Grima needed to do was drag Tibarn behind! And drag him very, very far behind.

Tibarn already ate quite a bit, and having a rigorous training session now only seemed to increase his appetite. Which made it exceptionally easy to slip in a curse or two on some meat. But Grima wasn’t about to make it obvious. This would be a slow burn.

At first, Tibarn’s gains seemed to stagnate. Simply stopped growing. At a glance, someone would think that he had hit the apex. He just couldn’t improve anymore. Though once a slight layer of pudge formed near his waistline, it was clear he hadn’t only stopped his growths- he was degrading.

Each passing day, Tibarn seemed to be gaining more and more weight. Getting wider rather than taller, his clothes ill-fitting not because of burgeoning muscle, but fat. With the greater weight, his workouts had become too laborious to follow up on, which certainly didn’t help the sudden expansion. Soon constrained to the ground, too heavy to even be lifted by his wings the slightest bit.

All the while Grima watched with sadistic satisfaction. Tibarn’s body swelled by the day, the laguz undoubtedly having lost at this point. Grima’s vessel had grown significantly- past Tibarn’s form before he had laid the curse. His shirt hardly fit, more akin to a crop top, and the cloak that had once only been an inch or two from the ground was now hovering near a foot. If Grima’s simple status as the fell dragon hadn’t kept people away before, his pinnacle form sure had now. His mere presence exuded a terrifying aura, though this once again didn’t keep away the summoner.

By chance, Grima had encountered Tibarn one day. Whom was waddling now, something that Grima took some amusement in. “I...I don’t know what happened.” He admitted, a slight jiggle to his two chins. “It would appear I’ve surpassed you.” Grima said with a smug cadence. “And indeed, the Summoner spends more time at my side.”

“Right…” Tibarn wasn’t exactly sure how true that was, but he couldn’t argue that Grima had indeed beaten him at this point.

A few more moons, and the hawk could no longer be found waddling through the halls. Apparently he had grown too large to even move. Music to Grima’s ears.

Until he noticed something. The summoner had started to periodically disappear throughout the day- not off to battle clearly, not with the food he was carrying. With Grima’s interest piqued, he tailed the Summoner, managing to not be noticed even with his larger size. Not the first thing on his mind, as he was far more frustrated with the destination. Tibarn’s dwelling.

It was back to the drawing board for Grima once more. He simply did not understand. He had undermined Tibarn to immobility...Exceeded his body. What was he getting wrong? There was a piece of the puzzle missing...and it dawned on him once more.

The Summoner hadn’t gone out of his way to see Tibarn before the laguz had been grounded.

Grima had been trying too hard all along. And in doing this, had let Tibarn win the adoration of the Summoner, though it was still soon enough to steal this victory back. For every curse the dragon had laid, he always had a solution.

Night had fallen, and Grima’s final plot was being enacted. With no pesky heroes to gawk at him or see where he was going at this hour, nor the summoner’s watchful eye, the path to where Tibarn’s massive form slept was simple to traverse.

Grima would admit, he never got a good look at the hawk king after that last brief conversation. So seeing Tibarn now was something of a shock. His body had overtaken the bed, though calling it a “bed” was a bit of an overstatement. More like mattresses to keep something between the floor and the laguz. It took Grima a moment to make out limbs and a head.

It would’ve been amusing, if it wasn’t so effective at getting the summoner’s attention. But that privilege would not be Tibarn’s for much longer. A glow to his eyes and hands, he began to cast the spell. The giant tanned mass seemed to rumble, beginning a transformation, or rather, a reversion. Though this didn’t rouse the still slumbering Tibarn. Meanwhile, Grima’s form began to change- his set of washboard muscles beginning to disappear, as a gut formed in its place.

With the counter curse successfully placed, Grima could leave the room satisfied. As the hawk shrunk like a deflating balloon, the dragon’s vessel did the opposite- body expanding every which way as he returned to his own chambers. Thighs now beginning to chafe, clothes straining to contain the stolen fat. Seams popping and tearing, a smug grin on his plump face.

In the morning, Tibarn awoke, like a weight was lifted off of him. Quite literally: He could move once more. And not just move at a waddle- His adonis form had been completely returned to him. How, Tibarn wasn’t sure. But his inner laguz instincts were happy about it, ready to return to the battlefield that very day.

Though one hero was not very ready to join Tibarn out in the battlefield, which was Grima. His body anchored firmly down within his dwelling, only able to make the slightest movements as he looked down upon the summoner. Just as immobile as Tibarn had been a few hours prior.

“Summoner, it’s quite terrible!” He said in a casual, almost mocking tone. “I simply woke up like this. I certainly can’t go out to fight in this state...or leave this chamber at all.”

That wasn’t Grima’s concern. Sure, he had certainly lost the wager he had made with Tibarn, but that was all worthless in retrospect. No, the look of awe on the Summoner’s face- That was all Grima needed to know he had won.

#feeder emblem #fire emblem weight gain #male wg #i would tag this under muscle stuff but #its not really content i'm gonna make a lot of #male expansion

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mintmatcha · 4 years

Note

listen i just wanna peg noya until he cries and then i wanna brush his hair and kiss his forehead. but mainly i want him begging underneath me

babe.... I've been thinking about pegging Noya ALL DAY. thank you for this. i wrote a tiny lil thing with literally almost dead last night.

nishinoya x reader (with a fake penis)

18+

"Arch your back for me, Yuu.” your finger trailed up Noya’s spine, traveling all the way to the baby hairs at the base of his skull. Goosebumps rose across his skin as he leaned down and away from you, stretching until his chest dipped into the soft down of the bed. This was how you liked him: ass in the air, face down, stretching almost like a cat. Your hand came to rest to the curve of his shoulder and you couldn’t help but admire how small he was compared to your previous lovers. Small, soft, yet definitely masculine. Muscles visibly tensed in anticipation as you traced the pink plastic cock round the rim of his asshole, warmed lube dripping down the curve of his ass.

“Good boy,” you purred, easing into him slowly. The usually talkative man was silent now, head burying deeper into a pillow as he struggled to become accustomed to your girth. You inched forward, searching for any sort of reaction from Noya. “Do you know how good you look right now? Taking dick like a good little slut?”

No response. You could see the way Noya’s rib cage expanded with every shaking breath as you continued to work yourself into him. The pace was painfully slow; it felt like hours before your hips were flush against his. Still, even as you were fully seated inside him, there was no response from the man beneath you. Just the sounds of him sucking air through the pillow and his hand stroking his own cock, messy with precum.

Firmly, you gripped Nishinoya's dark locks, forcefully tilting his face towards you. Blown out pupils peered out from beneath his bangs, searching your face for an explanation. It was glorious to see how easily he became desperate for you. The flush in his cheek extended down to the nape of his neck. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, a dribble of spit collecting at the corner of his mouth. One stroke and he was undone.

“Do you want me to fuck you, bunny?” you asked. Noya nodded frantically as he tried to pull forward, but the firm hand on his shoulder kept him against you. You clicked your tongue, almost mocking his impatience. "If you want me, you’re going to have to beg.”

“Please.” the way his voice crumbled into a whisper sent heat pooling to your core. “Please, miss, fuck me. I need you. Fuck- I want you so bad.”

Words kept tumbling out of his mouth until you rolled your hips into him carefully. A cry of pleasure racked his body as you continued. His free hand clutched the sheets, knuckles white from the strain. Your thumb traced a circle across the flat of his shoulder- it was the way you two agreed to check in with each other. A silent little version of “are you okay?”

“F-fuck, yes.” Nishinoya’s words snapped back into cohesion. “God, please, more- ah- it feels so good.”

"Aww, bunny, you sound so pretty." you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, "-But, you have to calm down."

Your grip in his hair turned rough as you snapped into him. A depraved sob escaped his lips; it was heavenly to finally hear him sing for you.

"Our fun hasn't even started yet."

#nishinoya x reader #this was supposed to post last night but i drafted it accidentally oops #whatever #anyway #this is based on the fact i hate watching pegging videos because the men dont arch their back like good little boys #smh #nishinoya x you #yū nishinoya #nishinoya

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astralsweetness · 4 years

Text

Overstimulating Hui (m)

➣ This was literally only written bcs of this post by @kpoppwriter who graciously allowed me to expand upon it a tiny bit. 🥺 Thank you so much for letting me. I wrote this in the one hour gap I had between Chemistry and Microbiology (so it’s prob not that great, and only like, 1.6k words.. and not proofread...), forgot all about it, and then remembered it on his birthday... so happy birthday Hui! 😂

➣ Warnings: Overstimulation, some tears (positive), use of a safeword (kind of), oral, a repeat use of a line from my Hui fic to kind of tie the two together

“Are you going to cum for me again, sweetheart?” The words are said into the feverish skin of Hui’s neck, lips sliding along his pulse point – a few tears have slipped from the corners of his eyes, always so responsive to you, and you move to kiss them away, distracted only by the way he turns to you for a kiss to his lips instead.

“Yes, I’m – it’s so much –“ He’s whining, a soft keen lingering in his throat long after words fail him, and you’re treated to an absolutely gorgeous view as he comes undone completely, muscles locking up as he cums on both your hand and his lower stomach. There’s already a mess of pre-cum and his last orgasm covering his skin, and all this does is make him even more of a mess. It makes you want to break him down into pieces before putting him back together, your fingers dancing teasingly along the head of his cock now instead of the rough and fast strokes you’d been giving him moments before.

“Don’t stop..!” There’s a deep furrow to his brow, a rough quality to his voice that sends a burst of pure white heat through you. He reaches a hand out to you pleadingly, and you don’t think twice about interlacing your fingers. You can feel the way it trembles in your grasp. “Please, I can – one more –“

He’s rambling, eyes squeezed shut, and you recognize this, remove your hand from his weeping and abused cock completely – he snaps his eyes open with a gasp, the sunset hue of his eyes less apparent than the darkness of his blown pupils.

“What’s your color, baby?”

“Green.” He answers you with a ragged moan, curling his body towards yours lying next to him – he’s tired and overstimulated, in a fragile state of mind, and you don’t believe he’s telling the truth.

It’s not his fault, he’s not trying to lie to you – just like everything else in his life, Hui had the tendency to push himself without even realizing he was doing so. Continuing right now without giving him any time to recover was a surefire way to plunge him into a deep headspace that would take quite a bit of time to get out of, and that wasn’t your goal for tonight.

“Well, I’m kind of yellow right now sweetie, so let’s just breathe for a bit, okay?” You haven’t even finished your sentence before his head is dropping back against the pillow, tension draining from his body as his eyes slip shut – this is how it usually goes when he’s been overworked, him pushing his limits without noticing and you taking care of him without a second thought. His thumb swipes a soothing pattern across the back of your hand, the best he can do to try and soothe you in his fucked-out state.

It makes your heart lurch with love, how dedicated he is to you even when he’s covered in sweat and his own cum, breathing hard.

“Such a good boy for me, Hwitaek.” You fill the silence with soft assertions, mindless praise that is no less meaningful just because they spill off of your tongue as effortlessly as breathing. “You work so hard all the time, and it makes me so happy that you trust me to break you apart like this. Perfect boy. Beautiful, and all for me.”

“Yours..” He breathes softly, shifting the last few centimeters needed to press his body flush against you, rolled onto his side now. He’s sticky and hot and you don’t mind it in the slightest, smiles as he buries his nose into your neck, still holding your hand. “All yours.” It’s not quite an I love you, something adjacent to it, almost there but not exactly, but it resonates within you all the same.

“Are you still green, sweetheart? Still wanting to cum one more time?” Your fingers (the ones not being held hostage by his own) drift to his bare hip as you ask – his breathing has evened out, though it still hitches softly in his throat at the simple slide of your hand across the slope of his pelvis.

“Yes – please, one more, I can do one more, I’m still –“ His words catch up to him eventually and he falls silent, an abrupt cut-off to his whining pleas. “Are you? Green, I mean.”

“I am, darling.” It almost hurts how much you love him, how hard your heart beats at his soft questioning. “You’re still hard, is what you were going to say, right Hwitaek?” He doesn’t bother responding to your question verbally, presses an open-mouthed kiss to the juncture of your jaw and neck in an affirmative instead. “I’ll take care of you, Hui, I promise, just lay back.”

He goes easily when you nudge at his shoulder, rolls onto his back again and watches as you slide down his body, depositing kisses onto his heated skin as you go. You don’t try to let go of his hand, knowing it’d either be impossible or result in a sulking Hui, even as you brought him to his third orgasm. (He took hand holding very seriously.)

When you take him into your mouth the weight of him is familiar on your tongue, the distinctive taste of his past orgasms mixing with his pre-cum flooding your senses.

He is instantly loud at the feeling, shouts at the overwhelming heat and soft velvet slide of your mouth on his cock, back arching off the bed. Your interlocked fingers are squeezed tighter.

“Fuck, I don’t – I can’t –“ You’re not sure what he’s trying to say but hum an acknowledgement anyway, feeling a surge of pride at the ragged sob the minute vibrations rips from his throat. You can hear the tears in his voice, can follow the litany of “fuck, it’s so good, fuck, fuck, so good” until they hang in the air all around you, like verbal markers of every piece of him you manage to chip away.

“I’m gonna cum..” He whispers softly, broken and teary, so completely at odds with the way all of his other sounds are loud and whining. It makes your heart clench with love – everything about him you love, from the way he trembles as you pull off and replace your mouth with your fist to the way he sobs into the kiss you initiate as his release coats your hand, curling into you as his hips make small twitches forward. It’s not as shattering as his other ones had been, not as loud or as big, but his chest heaves like the air is being stolen from him before it hits his lungs.

“You did so good, my love, so good.” You raise your hand (his still firmly stuck to yours) so you can pepper the back of his knuckles with small kisses. “Are you with me still, Hwitaek?”

He nods once, small and shaky, eyes squeezed shut – but it’s all you needed from him and you brush away his tears with the thumb of your free hand, continue to whisper compliments against his temple, pausing only to press a kiss to his forehead.

It takes two minutes before he can release your hand, half a minute for you to wet a washcloth with warm water before you’re back at his side, and a minute and a half for you to wipe him down and remove the towel you’d placed down earlier. During it all he keeps his eyes shut, but by the time you’ve finished cleaning him up he’s gazing at you softly, outright laughs weakly when you suggest him putting sleeping clothes on.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to move for the next six hours.” His voice gives away just how tired he is – it dips off at the end in pitch, wavers slightly in the beginning. You press your lips to his in a chaste kiss, trying not to let your smile disrupt it too much – it does, but you don’t think he particularly minded considering his own smile. His hair is a sweaty mess, and you make a mental reminder to insist on taking a shower together whenever he wakes up tomorrow.

“I’m going to wrestle you into underwear then, but other than that you’re on your own.” Your words are met with another soft laugh, sleepier than before – he’s fading fast, though he does try his best to not be complete dead-weight when you help dress him.

Another minute and a half and you’ve changed into your own sleeping clothes – which is literally just underwear and one of his shirts that you swear isn’t even his considering how far it hangs past your hips – sliding into bed behind him so you can wrap your arm around his waist. He reaches for your hand that rests on his stomach, holds it just like he had been doing the entire time before, and you press a kiss to the back of his neck because of it.

“Thank you for letting me do all that to you, sweetie – you’re so good, Hwitaek, such a wonderful boy. You did so well.” Your own words are starting to get softer as sleep creeps up on you, and Hui doesn’t respond verbally but he does squeeze your hand once before running his thumb over your knuckles lovingly, back and forth.

You are half-asleep when he speaks next, whisper-quiet and clearly almost asleep himself – you can’t hear him clearly, slurred and spoken into the pillow, but you feel it deep in your core.

A soft ‘I love you too’ leaves your lips, settling gently onto his skin, a comfortable weight as he finally drifts to sleep.

#pentagon hui x reader #hui x reader #hwitaek x reader #sub!hui #pentagon headcanon #happy birthday hui #ily sm #hui #pentagon hui

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huearmy · 4 years

Text

The Smell of Truth - II

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 3291

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: N/A. Jungkook continues to be just a cute pie here ok dont touch me.

Chapter I - Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII

You have always been enchanted by hybrids. You grew up surrounded by them, they were friends and family. Literally. For exemple, your favorite uncle adopted your cousin, a cat hybrid, when you were five and she was three, he and his wife wanted a second child but could't have one biologically anymore, and you got a friend as a gift. You never saw your cous being treated diferently from her older sister, indeed they were equaly loved by the whole family. You two would run and play for hours together.

You learned some diferences between you and hybrids when living with your cousin in childhood. The first one was that you, unfortunately, don't have fluffy beautiful ears and tail like they do, more than once your mother needed to comfort you before going to sleep cuz you were crying, wanting to be cute too. The second was that you were always at a disadvantage in games like hide and seek and tag you it, but you still had fun. The third is that hybrids can't go to school like normal kids. Until a certain age you were home schooled, taking classes with a tutor, when you turned eleven things changed a little bit, and you started studying at an elite college. Your world expanded, you started to study more hours a day and met new people, new teachers, classmates, you made new friends that gradually showed you a cruel world that you didn't know. Most of your friends were also daughters of politicians and entrepreneurs, just like you, and just like you, they grew up surrounded by hybrids. But while they were family to you, to your classmates they were butlers, maids, pets. Soon you started to understand the injustice of it all, of why you were bullied when you talked about your cousin, why you didn't like to go to some friends' house where you would see them treating their hybrids coldly.

The last straw came when you were fourteen, more specifically your birthday. Until then you kept your friends from meeting your cousin, for fear that the situation would be strang, but it was you birthday, you wanted all your friends in your sleepover, including her. At the beginning of the night you were apprehensive, but your friends did nothing but find your cousin cute and be kind to her, so you relaxed. Everything was going well until one of her best friends decided that she liked your cousin so much that she was going to "ask her father to buy her".Your cousing didn't understand at the time, it was the first time that she was treated as something and not as a person. You were so angry that the party ended right there, most girls left, even though it was two-thirty in the morning. Days later you were expelled from school for getting involved in a fight and assaulting one of the girls who used the wrong word to define your family. You went back to school at home, with the best private tutors, and the world outside was no longer so beautiful. That's how you, already in college, joined a radical activist group for the sake of hybrids.

The concept of owning someone was disgusting for you, that's why you never adopted any hybrid, just fought to free them, in and out of law.That's why you don't recognizes yourself in the decision of getting Jungkook home. But here are you, driving your SUV with him sitting next to you in the passenger's seat. You want the best for each hybrid you have ever rescued, but never before have you been so involved that you are directly responsible for one as you are now doing with him.

Jungkook have followed you to your car, where you gave him a oversized hoodie of yours to wear - the nigth got cold - and snacks that you had prepared for your trip back home. He was really entertained comparing flavors of three diferent chips, that he didn't even noticed when your black outlaw clothes are gone, replaced by a summer dress in a cardigan. Well, he couldn't remember the last time he had a chance to eat chips, it was probably when he was a kid, and there weren't that many flavors. Of couse, he was refraining from asking you too many questions, that were filling your head like: How is house? Will it be long before we arrive? Do you live with someone else? Do you have other hybrids? Do you do these jobs every night? ... But he kept silent, like a good boy.You said the drive to your city would take about two hours, that he could sleep, but he wanted to keep awake and looking out the window at the landscape, the trees he had never seen so many together and other cars, once in a while passing by with their lights on. It would be beautiful during the day too, he thought. The music playing softly on the radio is also cool.

"Ok." You brake the silence. "We have sometime before we get home, we can talk and get to know each other until then."

Jungkook took a sip of his soda before answering.

"To know each other?"

"Yeah. Like a game where we tell things about ourselves and ask each other something..."

"Got it. How do I win this game?" Jungkook got excited.

"It wasn't supposed to be a competition." You laughed, and then got thoughtful. "If you make a question you got one point. If you tell a fact about yourself without being asked you got two points..."

"Whoever has the most points wins. Ok." Jungkook softly clapped his hands with a happy soud coming from his mouth, the gesture doesn't go unnoticed by you. You showd him where to find paper and pen in the glove compartment for him to write down the points. In one side of the page he writed your initials and in the other, his - JK.

"I go first. Hummm... My full name is Y/N Y/L/N and I'm twenty-three. And you, what' is your age?"

"Woaaaa, Y/N! You already have five points, you are good at it." Jungkook excitedly wrote down your points, already thinking about what to say. "I'm twenty-two, but not for long, my birthday is in september. I'm a virgo. What's your sign?"

"Y/S." You responds. "You are into zodiac?"

"Not exactly. But it was a fact about me." Jungkook smile to you making you look away from the road for a moment longer than insurance so you can look at the dimples under his eyes. "Among these three chip flavors, which is your favorite?" "Both cheddar and bacon, I can't choose between them" You answered without hesitation. "Actually I love cheddar and bacon in any context. Did you decided wich one you like the most?"

Jungkook thoughtfully compared the chip packs.

"Nope. I like them all together. I like sweets more. Do you live with someone else?" Jungkook took the courage to ask something that was really on his mind.

"No, is just me in my apartament. But theres always a friend or relative visiting me, almost everyday. "

Jungkook he felt a confusion of feelings, he did not know if he should be happy or disappointed that you lived alone, and as a result, that he will live only with you. It would be nice if you live with siblings or your parents if they are good like you, but at same time if they are bad he prefers to be with just you.

"How is your family?" He asked before you could make your next question.

"They are great." You said, your tone of voice and eyes ligthing up with affection. "I'm single child, but my family is quite big. We are all focused on progressive thinking of liberating hybrids. That's why I'm part of activist groups ... Of course, only I do this more clandestine work, and my mother doesn't even know. She would be crazy worry. You will like them I think. I have like six cousins, two girls and four guys... Oh my God, they will tease me so much for bringing a boy to live with me..."

Clearly your family is a trigger for you to talk non-stop. Jungkook concluded that your family must be really cool, for you to like them so much, making him wanting to know them too. It got him a little nervous. What would them think about him? Your talking makes your family look amazing, while he’s no big deal. Worse than being uninteresting is not being liked, and there are really bad things about him ... More bad than good things actually. Your family not liking him is scary, and thinking that you might know about his bad past and not liking him any longer suddenly made him anxious.

You were bragging about your great-aunt's cooking skills when noticed Jungkook got too quiet.

"You are ok, Jungkook?"

He looked at you awkwardly, eyes round like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Yes."

"Sorry I talked too much." You let a weak laugh out, feeling embarrassed. "Is your turn now. Go ahead."

Jungkook looked through the window, avoiding looking to you.

"I don't know what else I have to say... You already won anyway." He showed you the score, your inicials with no space left to write down points.

"Oh I bet you have a lot of things to say."

"Not good things." Jungkook dared to say, already regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.Your voice softned.

"You don't need to tell me anything you are not ready to tell. Even if you're never ready. But I know that you are a person, and people are made up of many things, not just bad things." A moment of silence followed, you thinking about the next thing to say. "If you don't want to talk about past things... Lets talk about the future. What do you want to have for lunch tomorrow?"

________________________________________________________________

At some point Jungkook finally fell asleep. You drove an entire hour alone, slowly sipping an energy drink, his soft snores beside you not letting you forget about his presence. Everything you want is to sleep too, your eyes heavy, your body numb. You were thinking of it an how you would be in your bed about time, in your fluffy pijamas and warm socks, when blue and red lights appeared in your rear view mirror.

You pulled over and waited to the cop to come closer to lower the window

."Good nigth, officer."

You greeted in a low voice.The man just nodded writing down your license plate.

"Do you know why I made you pull over?" He said, louder than you.

"No, sir." You calmly answered, shrugging. "I was not above the speed limit and my tail lights are ok."

He made an approving sound.

"Papers please."

You turned on the light and reached out to get your documents from the glove compartment, making Jungkook open his sleepy eyes with a groan.

"Y/N?" He called with a pout. The ultimate pout."Shhh. Keep sleeping, babe. We didn't arrived yet."

He obeyed immediately, leaning his head on the window, and you can tell he didn't really wake up in the first place. He was with his cap and hoodie on, so the cop couldn't see his ears and know he is a hybrid. And theis way is better, you thought.

"Your boyfriend?" The cop asked while analyzing your driver's license.Time to improvise with your acting skills.

"Kind of." You timidly put a lock of hair behind your ear.He scanned the trash in the car."Any alcohol?"

"No, sir. Just energy drink and soda." You smiled.

He did the breathalyzer test on you anyway.

Since it didn't point to guilty results, you were released to continue your journey.

You took a deep breath, glad he didn't asked to inspect the car, he would surely find something that would link you to the terrorist act against the shelter, as the newspapers would for sure report the next day.

The good part is that forging Jungkook's adoption document in your name with a date prior to the rescue will be super easy, as the shelter's records blew up in the explosion. That thought made you relax and start driving normally. ________________________________________________________________

"Jungkook. Jungkook wake up." You shook his shoulder, his sleep too heavy. His head fell forward, making him jump in his spot, blinking heavily, the ultimate pout making another appearance. "We arrived, Jungkook."

Jungkook slowly regained consciousness, seeing you standing outside the car, beside him, holding the door open for him to get out.

"We're at home?." His face got bright.

"Yeah. Come."

It was a courtyard at the back of a small old building, it was still early in the morning, the sky was still dark and no one in town was awake. You turned on the car alarm, and guided a still sleepy but very attentive to the details of the new place, Jungkook, to the back door of the building, taking the bunch of keys out of his pocket - of your hoodie that he was wearing. He liked the proximity, the soud of the keys and the smell of the place. Actually the smell was pretty amazing, specially when you opened the door and everything inside got your smell, and others good things.

You noticed his nose working in the air and laughed.

"Is a flower shop. Do you like it?" You asked.

Something made sense to Jungkook, it's not that the place smelled like you, you smelled like flowers because of the place.

"Yeah. Is pretty good." He said still sniffing the air.

"On the first floor we have the shop, on the second the shop office and a photo studio that I rent to a friend... And on the third and fourth is our home." You tell him as you go up the stairs, he following you closely. "Early on, both the store and the office are open, but this should not be a problem if you want to sleep till late."

"Ok."

You two whispered up to the third floor, a small corridor with two doors on one side and windows on the other. You stepped forward to the first door, the entrance to the living room and struggled to fide the rigth key in the dark.

Jungkook noticed a faint light coming from under the door and a murmur inside. There was someone in there. He got alert and slightly apprehensive.

You finally oppened the door and got inside, dropping your heavy bag on the floor, the keys in the corner table, kicking off your boots. Jungkook got inside with short steps, looking around cautiously, looking for the person who would ambush you both. The light was the TV... He smelled a cat.

"Y/n?" A sweet and sleepy voice reached your ears, a little form lifted on the couch. A sniffing soud and the sweet voice got hostile. "Who is this?"

"Yeri, you are here." You smiled, not really caring for the mood changing of her. Jungkook stepped behind you a little. "This is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Yeri, my cousin."

"Hi." Jungkook tryied.

"What's he doing here? You never brought anyone home ..."

And by anyone she meant hybrids, and Jungkook knows it. He couldn't see her face in the dark, just her luminous cat eyes with vertical pupils, the dominant presence of those who had their territory invaded radiating from her.

"There is always a first time I guess." You say, still ignoring the awkward atmosphere, taking off your cardigan and hanging it on the rack behind the front door. "Are you in the guest room?"

Yeri got up and turned off the TV.

"No. I'm sleeping with you."Clearly she didn't trust Jungkook yet. If you bet, she was ready to sleep in the guest room, but now she decided to sleep with you to protect you from the stranger.

"Ok." You said.

"Ok." She said.

She turned on the light in the corridor, taking a few steps to the top floor, with bare feet and cute pijamas, and then stopped looking at Jungkook. Now he could see her face. The scariest cat he has ever seen. "Welcome to the family." And than she disappeared up the stairs.

Jungkook gulped, not sure what to think about it.

"She liked you." You told him, putting a hand in the small of his back.

"How do you know?" He asked you with round eyes.

"She didn't say she disliked you." You smiled. "Yeri is pretty honest about her feelings."

You took him to a room in the hall, with a messy cat-smelling bed in the middle, an empty desk and an armchair close to the window, and an empty closet. Beside the bed on the floor was an open handbag , with women's clothing showing up.

"She said she wasn't going to sleep here..." Jungkook pointed.

"Yeah, she lied about it. She wouldn't let me put you to sleep on the couch, though..." You went down the hall and came back with another blanket. "Aaaand, this will be your room. You'd better get used to it."

You fixed the sheets and changed the blanket and pillowcases, probably to help with the cat smell, odorless bedding help to make the bed more of him.

"That's what I can offer you for now, after all I wasan't expecting to adopt you. We can fix it later." You tiredly said, picking Yeri's bag from the floor.

"Ah... Don't worry.". Jungkook wanted to say he was already happy with what he got, that being adopted in firts place was more than he expected, that he was greatfull of your caring so far. But he couldn't find the words to put in on.

"Good, bucause I'm dead tired... I need to sleep, and you do too." You gave him a pat in his back, and went to the door. "If you need it, theres a bathroom in the end of the corridor. Good night." And than you closed the door behind you.

Jungkook waited for the sound your staps desapeard to start moving and breathing again. He was in his room! He ran to the window and opened the curtains a little to see outside, it seemed to be a main street in a small town, but Jungkook had never stepped in a small town before to have reference. He tryied the armchair and conclued it was confortable enouth to take a nap on it. The closet was big enough for him to fit in - he tested it - another possible place for good naps. With leaps of joy he imagined all the things he could kept there, the clothes and shoes he didn't have yet but dream of having. Fantasizing about when you were going to take him to shopping, he put the hat on one of the top shelves and closed the double doors carefully, to make any noise. And then threw himself on the bed, scenting the sheets, sighing contentedly. He took off his shoes and placed beside the bad, his wallet in the nigthstand - open like a picture frame, showing the photo of two hybrid little boys embracing and smiling - , and the suffed bunny lying next to him with it's own pillow.

All in this room felt so real to him, as much as your smell. If you said it will be his room so it's true, because se believe in you, and he is so happy.With the thought of a bright future with you Jungkook finally fell asleep again.

___________________________________________________________

Tag list: @stayunderthelights @deolly @panconte

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Thakyou!!! Let me know if you liked it... <3 <3 <3 This is a sub blog so I wont respond coments, but I read it all.

#bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts hybrid fic #bts blog #bts fluff #hybrid bts #hybrid jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #bts angst #dog jungkook #bangtanshadowfamily

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monstersandmaw · 5 years

Text

Mute male siren x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a tier reward for a lovely patron who wanted a siren who's never been able to use his voice, and is thus treated poorly by his own kind for being 'useless' in their eyes. Hope you enjoy!

It’s been up on my Patreon for a while now, so if you want to have access to stories before they go up on Tumblr, plus a number of exclusive rewards, access to our Discord server, polls, artwork, character concepts, etc. then head on over and check it out!

___

It was the eerie melody - almost more of a feeling in your chest than a sound in your ears - that drew you out onto the jetty from the beach where you’d been walking barefoot, flip-flops dangling from the fingers of one hand. You knew about the shoal of sirens who lived and hunted off the reef that guarded Starfall Bay, but you’d never seen them; they didn’t come too close to shore very often after all, preferring the vast open waters of the channel beyond.

Something about their song that afternoon seemed harsh, cruel, despite the plainchant beauty of it and a tear spilled from your eye before you’d even noticed it forming. The song faded as the sirens clearly dived back down again, and it left you strangely hollow. Humans were far from immune to the hunting calls and songs of those hauntingly strange creatures, and in the silent wake of their absence, you found yourself humming softly. The tune was a cheerful one as you tried to rally your spirits a little.

Squinting against the reflections of the strong summer sun against the rippling water, you clambered down to sit on the edge of the dock so that you could dangle your feet in the cool, clear water. A little crab scuttled around in the rocks beneath the jetty’s pilings, minding its own business, and you watched him for a bit. As the hairs on your arms prickled suddenly, you looked up and found that you were not alone.

Lying half slumped over a nearby rock which had been smoothed by the constant caress of the sea was a creature that was unmistakably a siren. You frowned, wondering what they could be doing just metres from the shoreline, and half-hauled out of the water. Something about their size and shape suggested that they were male, and you stared openly at the stunning colours of his tail and upper body. The thick muscle was covered with inky blue scales which were in turn dotted here and there with pearlescent scales. It brought to mind the clearest of night skies. The fan of his tail was feathered and spread out in the water behind him, while his upper body was smooth and free of scales. His skin there, however, was a dark blue-grey, and he had little fins of iridescent blue at his elbows. Plastered to his head and hanging halfway down his back, his hair was black as an oil slick, and he stared at you with huge, dolorous, sapphire eyes, blinking slowly.

��Hi,” you called, waving. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a siren up here before. Do you come here a lot?”

He waved back, somewhat hesitantly, and then gestured with a clawed hand at his throat, opening his mouth silently.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t speak…? Is that right?”

In answer, he gave a slow, sad nod, those bright, completely blue eyes turning down to stare at a spot of vivid green seaweed on the rock.

Something about his dejected posture made you keep talking, so you asked, “Do you know Sign?”

His head jerked back up at that and he tilted it curiously to one side in a silent question.

“You know, Sign Language?” you asked. “It’s what people who can’t hear or talk - or sometimes both - use to communicate. They use their hands.”

The siren froze but his lips parted in soft astonishment, eyes wide with wonder. He clearly hadn’t known that there were other ways of expressing himself, and your heart twisted at the anguish in his storm-blue eyes.

“My friend teaches it,” you went on, thinking on your feet. “I don’t know it myself, but if you’d like to learn, I’m sure I can ask him for you.”

He nodded emphatically but then went still again.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He made an empty kind of cough, mouth opening in an unvoiced hiss of frustration - more of a choke, really - flashing razor sharp teeth. Then he looked back at you and rubbed his thumb against his fingertips in the gesture that said ‘money’ almost the world over. He’d clearly been around landfolk often enough to have picked that one up.

Waggling your legs slowly through the water as you thought, you pouted and then said, “I can ask if he’d be willing to help out anyway… He’s the kind of guy that would do that.”

The hope that kindled in those sad eyes nearly tore your chest in two.

“I’ll ask him right now. Hang on.”

One quick text later and Jera was agreeing to come down to the beach in ten minutes to meet the siren. The bright green of the lizardfolk’s tail seemed to fascinate your siren, and the two of them seemed to hit it off almost immediately. You couldn’t help but notice the way he flinched away though whenever either of you made a sudden gesture or raised your voices - even to laugh - and as you and Jera made your way back up the beach after promising to return the next morning, your friend voiced his concerns.

“For a siren to have no voice…” he muttered darkly. “He must be the lowest of the low… he…”

“He seems to desperate to communicate,” you commented.

Jera shook his head and made a soft growl like an alligator. “It’s more than that. They use their voices for everything: hunting, mating, socialising… Without that, he… he has no role, no function.”

Your heart ached for him and you said, “You mind if I sit in on the lessons too? That way he’s got me to talk to as well…”

“I kind of assumed you’d want that anyway,” Jera grinned. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

Over the next three weeks, you and Jera spent hours down at the shore with the siren. He was literate as it turned out, and at the start of your first lesson he wrote his name with a talon in the hard, wet sand.

“Ilta,” Jera repeated, looking up at him. “That means ‘evening’,” he added, and both of you eyed the starry night sky of Ilta’s tail.

“Appropriate,” you grinned and Ilta blushed darker. His face was so sharply defined, his features so intense and clearly belonging to a predator, that to see him turn a little softer sent a thrill through you.

When he saw the way you smiled, he signed, “Thank you,” with a hesitant and bashful hand.

One morning perhaps a month into your daily lessons, as you hurried through the town, with your heart fluttering and your chest light with excitement to see him again, your phone buzzed and you paused at the harbour to read the text.

Jera: Hey, I can’t make it today - something’s come up and they need me to cover for another member of staff at school. Sorry! x

You replied that it was fine, and that you and Ilta could practise together anyway. However, he wasn’t there when you got to your usual meeting spot in the cove, and a stab of worry hit you like a hammer blow. Eventually, after thirty long minutes of pacing the sand and staring at the water, the surface of the sea rippled in a rush of bubbles, and you saw Ilta’s dark tail propelling him towards you.

“Hey,” you called, waving to him, but when you saw how dejected he looked, how broken down, you knelt in the water, heedless of the splashing waves, and held out your arms to him. “Come here,” you murmured.

He lay in your lap, his chest heaving silently, and he flung his lean, muscular arms around your waist. Stroking his wet hair seemed to calm him and after a moment you felt him shiver. “Ilta, what happened?” you asked softly, but he only tightened his grip on you and buried his face from sight. “Ok, it’s ok,” you crooned. “I’m here.”

After a while, you recalled something that Jera had said about song being so important to the everyday life of a siren, and you began to hum quietly. It was the tune you’d sung on the day you’d first met him; a variation of a folk melody that had always cheered you up when your grandmother had sung it to you. Within seconds, his body went limp beneath your touch and he let his hands fall to the sand on either side of your thighs. He listened to you sing it through twice before he took a deep, shuddering breath, and then pushed himself upright.

His strange gaze met yours and he reached a lethally-clawed hand for your throat, his fingertips just brushing against your skin as you continued to sing. The urge to stop was overwhelming, but something made you keep humming. He blinked slowly, dark lips slightly parted, and he continued to touch you. Eventually he withdrew his hand and signed an embarrassed, “Thank you… I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” you asked, using your hands instead of your voice now.

He shuffled slightly, splashing you as he got comfortable enough that he could sit half-coiled up on himself, balanced and able to use both hands to speak. “Sorry,” he grinned as you wiped the droplets off your face with a quiet laugh. “I… I had a bad day with my shoal.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes in frustration, though it wasn’t directed at you. “They use their voices on me,” he admitted.

“I don’t understand…” you said gently, movements of your hands small, quiet, faltering.

He turned his gaze back to meet yours and said, “You know how we hunt, right? We lure our prey in and then we use our voices to stun them. The sounds are…” he paused, frowning, searching for a way to explain it to you. “You know how some whales hunt by blasting sound at fish, making the air inside them expand or leaving them twitching and immobile…”

Horror slid into your stomach and you stared at him. “They did that to you?”

Ilta nodded. “They’ve always done it,” he went on. “But since I’ve been coming here and learning to talk another way, they’ve been doing it more and more. I… I can’t defend myself from that.”

“Can you leave?” you blurted aloud.

He shrugged. “Probably, but only if I stayed in and around the harbour. I learned to hunt in the shallows the way other merfolk do, with a spear of sharpened shell, but they think that’s hilarious of course.”

You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and he smiled broadly.

“What?”

“I love the noises you make,” he said. “Sometimes it’s just really cute and other times it’s beautiful. You have a lovely voice you know?”

You snorted softly, flushing. “You should have heard my grandmother. She was a real singer.”

“What’s a real singer?” he asked.

“You know, someone who sings for audiences… People pay to come and hear her…”

“Oh,” he said. “You sang for me though,” he added, his movements suddenly shrinking down to barely-there twitches of his hands. He’d picked it up much more quickly than you had, and you almost missed what he said.

“I couldn’t think of any other way to make you feel better,” you said shyly. “Did it work?”

“Yeah.” It was obvious that there was more to it though, but he didn’t go on immediately.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” you asked, trying to catch his eye but he was too busy looking at a patch of bare sand just beside you.

He shook his head.

“Then what is it…?”

He swallowed and looked up at you at last. “It’s something a mate might do,” he said with trembling fingers. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before. I thought they never would… you know… because of…” he finished by gesturing weakly at his voiceless throat.

Feeling brave, you reached for his face and traced your thumb across his cheekbone. “Ilta,” you said and he brought his hand up to your throat again before dropping it so that he could speak.

“I love your voice,” he said. “I wish I could sing for you. I wish… I…” His hands fell limply into the water beside his tail and he sighed. Slowly he brought the fingers of his right hand up to his own throat, claws digging into the muscle of his neck. For a horrible moment you thought he might hurt himself, but he relaxed a second later and opened his mouth. As he exhaled, gills flaring briefly in his neck, he let out a wet choking sound. It was just air in his throat, with no vocalisation at all. “I can’t,” he signed. “I’ve never been able to…”

You took his hands in yours briefly once he’d stopped talking and kissed his knuckles gently. “I know it’s… it’s been awful for you,” you said as you continued to kiss his cold skin, “But… I think that not having a voice has made you partly who you are. I’m not saying I wouldn’t love you if you could sing, but… I love who you are, Ilta. I love spending time with you and listening to your stories about what it’s like underwater… I would never have known any of that if I hadn’t met you.”

Ilta listened to your words and stared at you, stunned, barely breathing. Eventually he slid his hands free of yours and asked, “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you reassured him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked immediately, and when you nodded, he grinned again.

He knocked you back into the sand, pressing his whole body against yours, and it was as if his touch became his song. Silently, he sculpted his feelings for you against your skin, running his hands up your legs, his gills working as he became more and more aroused by the feel of you. He lifted your top and raked his teeth over your warm skin, making you gasp and cry out. The cove was mercifully pretty empty, with only a few people about, but they were a long way off.

His fluke flailed in the surf as he dragged himself up towards your shoulders, his body still pressed along yours. His long hair fell to one side and you looked up into his eyes. “You were going to kiss me,” you grinned.

Ilta’s answering smile was sharp and wicked but full of fondness, and he kissed you hard enough that you let out a low moan. One of his cold hands wrapped lightly around your throat as you continued to mewl and groan under his touch, and you knew that his touch was his answering song for you. Together, the two of you made a song of your own. When you said as much, he tipped his head back, almost in victory, and rutted up against your thigh, his scales suddenly slick where they touched you.

Ilta continued to touch you with reverence and wonder until you could no longer stop the sounds from falling from you. He took every single one of them and returned them with his body until the two of you were gasping together, sharing a breath as he spilled his release across your thighs, his forehead pressed to your collarbones and his fingers tangled in your hair.

With one final, soft, decadent moan, you kissed the top of his head and he signed something vague that might have been ‘thank you’ but you weren’t quite sure. To be fair though, you weren’t in a much better position to be articulating anything either.

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radioactivepeasant · 4 years

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Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

(Full disclosure, this is a chunk of a toshinko fic I wrote a few years ago purely for my own amusement. I may upload it someday, but I haven't decided on that front yet)

She almost turned his offer to escort her home down on the grounds that she was a Nobody and he was going to get swarmed with people asking weird questions.

She didn’t turn him down in the end.

Forever after, neither of them were sure how they’d fallen into discussing personal matters, especially when under normal circumstances neither would be caught dead pouring out their heart to a stranger. Perhaps she’d just needed the catharsis. Perhaps he'd needed the human connection. When they reached her little apartment at last -- at least Hisashi had stayed long enough to help her move -- All Might handed her the umbrella.

“Wh- no I can’t take- what about you?” Inko sputtered.

“Ahaha no worries! I’ll be right as rain!” All Might flashed a peace sign, then broke into muffled giggles. “Wow. That was horrible. I’m so sorry.”

Inko laughed, and All Might jumped away, and that should have been the end of it.

But it wasn’t.

[[MORE]]

A few weeks later Inko found a note taped to her door in the unmistakable handwriting of All Might.

Hoping there have been a few less rainy days in your life lately! :D

There was even a small doodle of an umbrella with his distinctive eyebrows and smile.

After taking an hour or two to get over the sheer shock of All Might remembering her -- let alone where she lived -- Inko found herself sticking the note to her refrigerator.

Second-guessing herself the whole way, Inko taped a note of her own on her door, a short and sweet heartfelt thanks for him going out of his way to make sure she was alright, and listening to her complaining. After a moment’s hesitation, she added a doodle of her own. A rainbow with his smile.

The note stayed on her door for two days and Inko tried not to be disappointed. Logically she knew it was extremely unlikely that a hero of his caliber would even be in her city, let alone on this end of town, and even if he was, he’d be far too busy for social visits. (Why was she expecting All Might to make social visits?!)

On day three the note was gone and something else was in its place.

It wasn’t carefully written on blank paper this time. It was hastily done, as if on the spot, and on the back of what looked like a grocery list. Still, it was fairly obvious who it was from.

It was no trouble at all, please don’t worry about it! Truthfully, it was nice to get to just talk with someone like that. Actually, I don’t get to do that very often! :D

Wishing you and the baby the best! - AM :D :D

Oh lord. The baby. That’s right, she was pregnant. She was literally constructing a human being from scratch!

...okay, it sounded kind of metal when she thought of it like that.

Inko shuffled back inside to make a stiff cup of chamomile and figure out how to organize the very bizarre amount of money Hisashi had sent her. He was as broke as she was, probably, going to that exclusive medical school. But he'd somehow managed to scrape up enough in mismatched bills to cover at least two doctors' visits. And he'd sent a pack of pacifiers?

Bless his heart, but Fujioka Hisashi didn't know much about babies. Inko taped his "sorry I'm an idiot, can we still be friends" note up on the fridge. Then, after a moment's pause, she added the second note from All Might.

Somehow, the notes became a regular thing after that. He started slipping them through the mail slot rather than taping them to the door, which was probably safer in the long run. And she started hiding hers under the mat, in a plastic bag.

She probably could have just sent the notes to his agency, like every other fan, but she worried that it would be lost among the hundreds of thousands of other letters.

Short “how are you” notes became mid-length “fought an umbrella themed villain today and thought of you, how are you?” notes. Sometimes Inko left letters about everything and nothing, talking about how she saw a flower blooming in a place it shouldn’t have been and it looked so hopeful there that she felt like everything was going to be alright. Sometimes she sent a favorite poem.

Once, about two months in, she’d just barely referenced rent and a doctor’s bill coming at the same time and within a week he’d sent her an envelope with a check to cover both. She’d been horribly embarrassed, and there was an awkward tension in the letters for a week or two until they settled the fact that she wasn’t looking for charity and he only wanted to help.

Three months of letters and Inko had begun to feel as though she knew the Symbol of Peace. Actually knew him. Oh, it was just a silly fantasy, of course, it had to be. No doubt he was barely sharing anything about himself, and he probably did this with other fans too. Or at least, she’d thought that until one of his letters questioned a mention of Mitsuki asking why she was happy all the time now and her not knowing how to answer. Hadn’t she told anyone about the letters?

No, actually, I never told anyone, Inko had written back, I’m not sure why. I’m sure this is a normal thing you do, since you’re so kind, but I can’t help worrying that some people will say nasty things about you if they find out you’re penpals with a pregnant lady.

The response had come on the same day, a post-it note on her door in the space between getting off the couch and walking to the door. She’d just missed him, evidently.

Had to run, sorry for shortness, it said, But you’re the only one I write to.

Inko had needed to sit down after that.

The following morning there was a three page letter resting on the floor just under the mail slot. It was handwritten, as all the others had been, and expanded on the post-it note. All Might was writing to say that while he did try to personally answer fanmail, this wasn’t fanmail. This was a correspondence with a friend (at least, he hoped it was, he was pretty sure it was, he wasn’t trying to overstep any boundaries or anything--). That he felt that he’d come to know her as a person in the last three months, that he looked forward to getting her notes every week. That he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, not ever, but perhaps it would be best if at some point they could meet and discuss things in person so there were fewer chances of misunderstandings?

Inko had to read it six times before it sunk in that All Might was asking to meet her. All Might was asking to meet her! She was in a daze all through her commute to work and most of the way through her workday. Her boss was forgiving enough to chalk it up to pregnancy and simply remind her to actually answer the phones when they rang. When her lunch break came, Inko wandered down to a small grocery store on the same street as her office -- much better prices than the one in her neighborhood, but an hour was a long trip just for groceries so she tended to use the other store. Still in a bit of a fog, Inko didn’t notice until too late that the canned fruit she was looking for was on a shelf much much higher than she could actually reach.

She could’ve just used her quirk to get it down, but...well, unlicensed public quirk use was illegal, no matter how impractical that was. Inko stretched up with one hand, keeping the other hand on her stomach. The baby apparently disapproved of this sudden movement and was rolling around. He liked it when she was walking, not so much when she was stretching. (And still she hadn’t picked a name for him. She’d tried a few, but nothing seemed to stick.)

“Here, let me-!”

Someone reached up over her head and brought down the can. At first glance, out of the corner of her eye, Inko almost mistook him for All Might. But that was ridiculous, right? His hair was wild and curly, all save two long bangs he’d sort of let flop loose in front of his face. And while he was definitely muscular, he didn’t quite seem to have the same level of definition as All Might. Very close, though. Inko realized she was staring at him and blushed bright red.

“S-sorry! You didn’t have to do that!” she stammered as he handed her the can.

“Well I didn’t want you to get hurt,” the man said with surprising sincerity, “Sorry if that was awkward haha I’m...bad at social things.”

And that was Inko’s introduction to Yagi Toshinori. He’d clumsily introduced himself and then dashed off blushing the moment her back was turned. Odd fellow. There’d been something strangely familiar about his eyes, though, and she just couldn’t place it. They looked almost like...nah. Couldn’t be.

Four weeks later, one of her neighbors asked her about “the buff American-looking guy” who slipped letters through her door at weird hours and Inko had an epiphany. If it was All Might, they’d have seen All Might. And probably called the presses. But the things in the letters were things that only All Might would know unless someone else had been reading her letters. With shaking hands, she wrote her next letter and slipped it under the mat.

If I met you while you were off the clock, would I still recognize you?

If she hadn’t been sore and unwilling to move from the couch, she would have waited by the door to see if she could catch her mystery penpal. She fell asleep there, waiting, and didn’t wake up again until her phone alarm went off the next morning to tell her to get ready for work. Grumbling, Inko showered, changed, and managed some form of breakfast. The baby really really hated miso and natto, so she’d been sticking to things like eggs and yogurt and citrus.

“Come on kid, I miss soup,” Inko groaned as she shoved an orange into her purse for later and bolted. She almost stepped on the folded piece of paper at the door. Already running late, she stuck it into her purse and didn’t even look at it until hours later that day.

Well, you would now, was all it said.

#free day thursday #bnha au #bnha #toshinko #toshinori yagi #yagi toshinori #midoriya inko #inko midoriya #Izuku isn't born yet #self-indulgent au is self-indulgent and i make no apologies #pen pals #Toshi is like 'this is safer than texting right?'#somewhere Gran Torino is having a conniption #fic excerpt #fic prompts #writing prompts #long post

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sovonight · 4 years

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flurrin replied to your post “guess who just spent 4 hours figuring out how to...”

P. Please post a tutorial

disclaimer that i still have absolutely zero knowledge of how to use 3d modeling programs, but here i go

how to extract atton’s (or any) model from k2 and unwrap its uv maps:

(before i start, someone made a video tutorial on extracting the ebon hawk model, but they apparently did it with older/no longer recommended tools? it didn’t really help me bc of the version differences, but here it is anyway)

tools needed:

3dsmax (free for students/instructors, or free 30 day trial) or gmax (free but very old apparently, but kotor is pretty old so it all works out). i'm using 3dsmax 2021 bc that’s what i got access to so i have No idea about gmax

download & be able to run kotor tool. this’ll extract the model/texture files you need from the game files

download & be able to run mdledit. this’ll turn the mdl files into ascii files

download & follow the instructions to install kotormax. this’ll let you open ascii files in 3dsmax/gmax

first, run kotor tool:

go to Kotor II\BIFs\models.bif\Aurora Model and find the .mdl file you’re looking for. people are under p, and things aren’t listed totally alphabetically, so don’t worry if it feels like you already skipped it

i’m looking for p_attonbb and p_attonh, so i selected those one at a time and clicked extract file on the right, and saved it to a folder on my desktop. you’ll want to keep all these files in the same folder bc it’ll come in handy later

so i now have p_attonbb.mdl and p_attonh.mdl. close Aurora Model and open Aurora Model Extension just below it, and look for the same file names, but just as mdx files this time. save those too, and i now have p_attonbb.mdx and p_attonh.mdx

if you don’t already have texture files, you should get those too. go to Kotor II\ERFs\TexturePacks\swpc_tex_tpa.erf and look for the right filenames-- atton’s are pretty obvious, but if you don’t know which one the model uses, you can hold off until the next step. anyway, once you find the file, extract it as a tga. tga is good for most purposes, tgc is for people who know what they’re doing (which is not me lol)

second, run mdledit:

select the relevant kotor game (click on the button to swap between them) and the platform (it switches between pc and xbox)

click File -> Load and select the .mdl file you extracted earlier. if you didn’t know what texture(s) the file uses earlier, you can find out here by going to Edit -> Textures, where all the texture filenames will be listed out for you

select File -> Save -> ASCII and save the file. i did that for each mdl file i had, and got p_attonbb.mdl.ascii and p_attonh.mdl.ascii

close mdledit! you’re done with it

third, install kotormax if you haven’t already!

fourth, run 3dsmax:

you should see this column. this was my first time ever seeing 3dsmax, so it took me like 10 minutes to realize this, but this whole column is kotormax. if for any reason it didn’t show up, just go to Scripting -> Run Script, and open 3dsmax 2021\scripts\KOTORmax\kotormax.ms

expand “MDL Loading”, click browse, and navigate to the .ascii file you saved earlier. click import at the bottom

and here he is! he already has textures on him because, if you kept all your files in the same folder as suggested, the texture file was Right There for 3dsmax to find. (the first time i did this, i didn’t have the texture file there and it showed up blank. i now unfortunately know how to link a texture in manually.)

ok so wtf are those white blocks around him you ask, and how do i get rid of them? well, that’s the very question that plagued me for literally 3 hours, and there’s a very simple answer to that. it’s just the dummy model and you just hide it. infuriatingly simple! you’d think that i, someone who has used literally any art program before, would immediately have recognized this whole setup on the left:

expand everything and click the eyes to hide everything you don’t want. if you’re on atton’s body model, you’ll want to hide everything except for JacketFlapNew, ShirtFlapNew, LArm_Geo, RArm_Geo, and Torso_Geo. if there’s anything left in the viewport that you don’t want, you probably just missed expanding something in the filetree; you can just click it in the viewport and it’ll be highlighted for you in the filetree

so here we are! the display here automatically updates when the texture file is changed, so i can edit the tga file and save and immediately see my changes reflected on the model. from here, i changed “default shading” to “flat color” to see the texture more clearly.

if your model has two parts, like atton does, you can open both and kinda align them together manually. go back to “MDL Loading” and import the other mdl file-- in my case, it’s p_attonh. but oh no, it showed up at his feet:

first, remove the unwanted chunks & boxes like before. for atton, that’ll be everything except for eyeLA, eyeLid, eyeRA, eyeRlid, HairFlaps_Geo, hairPiece, Head_Geo, and teethUp. (i don’t know what i’m going to do now that i know that atton’s got a part called hairflaps.)

now select P_AttonH in the filetree on the left, then select the move tool up top.

click on the view you’re going to use to move stuff around in, then hover over the base of his head until the move icon shows up. if you hover over one of the axes and then drag, you can move just along that axis. i did y-axis first, then z-axis, just eyeballing it until it aligned.

now we can get into the UV map (well, we could have earlier, but it felt a little awkward with him headless). select everything you’re interested in. i’m doing his armor, so i ctrl+clicked to select every visible part of his body (you can do this either in the filetree or in the viewport). now go to Modifiers -> UV Coordinates -> Unwrap UVW, and something new will show up on the right column:

look down under “Edit UVs“ and click on “Open UV Editor“:

a new window opens up. if you want to see this overlaid on his texture immediately, you can use the dropdown on the top left. but i want a transparent png, so i’m exporting this.

to export this just go to Tools -> Render UVW Template, and another window opens up. (here i entered 2048 for the width and height bc those are the dimensions of the high res atton retexture i want to edit.) under “render output”, click the “...” and choose a filename & format to save the output under. then click “Render UV Template”. another window will open up with the render map, but you can just close it, bc it’s already been exported in the filename you set just earlier.

and there you go! ta-da. i wrote this all in one go so i hope it makes sense

oh, and yeah, if for whatever reason you need to apply a texture manually instead of it automatically being applied when you import it, open the material editor (use the weird little icon). click the little eyedropper tool, and eyedrop the model you need to texture

something new will show up in the material editor window:

now get your texture file, and drag and drop the file into the window. then drag a line from the node on the texture you just added, to the “diffuse color” node from the model.

and there! texture’s applied. it’s pretty simple but bc i stubbornly refused to be slowed down by tutorial videos, i slowed myself down for an hour figuring this out from scratch

#kotor 2

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