#i had a very specific image in my head a few weeks ago

[novelconcepts]

are you down (to be a distraction, baby?)

Tai doesn't even want to be at this party, but leaving before the ball drops feels like a coward's move. She'll stick it out.

Still: No rules saying she has to stay IN the house.

(A fill for Taivan Week 2023, "First Kiss Monday")

T, 5013 words

“Taissa! Catch!” She’s whirling before her brain can catch up, her hand shooting into the air. A cold can of beer smacks into her palm with all the power of a line-drive. Natalie flings both arms above her head, whooping. “Fuck yeah! Told you she’d do it!” Tai bestows upon them all a broad smile, cracking the tab and pounding half the can in a single pull. Nat makes a noise like Taissa’s just delivered her first-born, pain-free, and Tai laughs. It’s a bold sound, brassy over the whump of music, and she doesn’t really feel it at all. Not down deep in her chest, in her belly, where the best kind of laughter lives. Not in her head, which is pounding. It, like so much of this evening, is a lie.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

i've got your back l Frankie "Catfish" Morales

Summary:  in hard times you needed him the most

Warnings:  sexual allusions, some kissing, worried Frankie, dozing Reader, some tears, anxiety, no plot

A/N: comforting Frankie. Frankie who looks after you when you're going through a hard time. this isn't a story about anything specific. i barely created a plot for a few images i had in my head. i need something like that… i need someone to look after me even when i say i'll manage because i'm strong and independent. yes i'm starting my exams soon…

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist] [Frankie Morales masterlist]

His heart broke as he looked at you. It had been going on for over a week, maybe two. Three? There was no way all this could have been going on for three weeks.

Frankie was leaning against the door frame and watching you in silence. You were sitting over your notes, quietly mumbling the next words you wanted to remember, circling the most important things with colored markers, looking into your books or the computer every now and then. The spare room you had, where you kept your things "temporarily", had become your place for some time now.

When you told Frankie a while ago that you were considering going back to school, he supported you immediately. It was a brilliant idea! He always thought that you were really smart and he was glad that you wanted to do something for yourself and fulfill one of your dreams. 

You have talked about the pros and cons of this idea more than once. After a few days, you would sit next to him again, saying "Frankie, this probably isn't a good idea..." so he once again gave you answers to all your doubts and promised that he was on your side.

Excitement and delight were written all over your face every time you returned from class to your apartment. You told him about your new friends, your professors, and what you did in class. God! You looked so gorgeous he wanted to kiss you, and he did it every time you stopped to catch your breath.

You combined work with school, which was hard, but the support your boyfriend gave you was like a solid foundation. His broad shoulders protected you from the world, but at the same time allowed you to cry when you needed it.

And then the difficulties began. 

Exams, essays you had to write, books you had to read, and work on top of that. Frankie considered you some kind of fucking hero because you managed it all. 

He tried to do as many household chores as possible so you wouldn't have to worry about laundry or cleaning. Besides, it wasn't a problem for him. You were a team, right? Partners.

When you came back from work and saw a warm dinner on the table, or that Frankie had folded the laundry - you wanted to cry. You have been crying quite often lately.

The tiredness started to get to you. You would come back from work and almost immediately sit down to study. It was a hard time.

"Baby?" he finally said, but you didn't react. "Hermosa?"

"Mhm?" you mumbled something, probably without even realizing it.

"I made dinner, you must be hungry."

"Mhm."

He walked up to you and put his giant hands on your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. "Take a break, hermosa. Your brain is starting to smoke."

"I can't remember this." you mumbled quietly. "I keep repeating it and repeating it, but none of it stays in my head."

"Maybe you should take a day off, huh? Your head will rest, you need it."

You buried your face in your hands and sighed loudly. You knew Frankie was right. He loved you, he took care of you every day and you adored him for it. But you had this terrible perfectionism in you, this need to prove yourself, that you were good enough for this and could do anything.

He finally managed to get you in for dinner, but it wasn't what he expected. After a few bites, you started stabbing your food with your fork, clearly lost in thought.

"Pope invited us to a barbecue next weekend," he said, taking a sip of his beer. "We could go, huh?"

"Mhm."

Frankie swallowed. "A new Italian place opened up near where I work. It looks promising. Do you want to go?"

Another grunt. He frowned a little worried.

"I decided to get a big dragon tattooed on my chest, and then paint our living room red. What do you think?"

"Mhm."

"Hermosa..." he sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You're not listening to me."

Jesus, your eyes looked so sad as you looked at him. "I'm sorry, babe. I was lost in thought..." your voice broke "You tried so hard, you made dinner and everything, and all I can think about is that damn exam... I'm a terrible girl."

"Don't say that, I won't let you." he said "We're having a hard time, but we'll get through this together. I've got your back, right?"

"Yeah..." a weak smile appeared on your lips "I hope that when this is over I'll be able to make it up to you."

"I think I'll find some ideas." Frankie winked and kissed the back of your hand.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you."

You loved him. Damn, you loved him and you wanted him to be proud of you. Meanwhile, you felt that you were failing everything in your relationship. When was the last time you had sex?

You tried to forget about that one humiliating moment when you fell asleep before Frankie could take off your panties. He joked about it, but you felt ashamed.

But when it was all over... You were waiting for the last exam with fear and hope. After all of this, you would spend the whole weekend in bed with Frankie, fucking, sleeping, fucking again and eating the food you ordered. It was the perfect plan.

You couldn't sleep. The night before the last exam, you lay in bed with your eyes wide open, listening to Frankie's quiet snores. His assurances that you were perfectly prepared were of no use, after all, he questioned you three times and once more before he fell asleep. All the information you tried to remember was smashing through your head. One word. Fuck! You couldn't remember it.

Frankie mumbled quietly when you freed yourself from his arms, but you pushed your pillow into them and soon he started breathing evenly again.

He didn't expect that. When he woke up in the morning in bed alone, he was disoriented. And he didn't expect to find you sleeping on the desk even more.

"Baby..." he stroked your back, but you didn't even move "Hermosa, get up. I wish you could sleep, but you have to get ready."

"W-What?" you stuttered, lifting your head slightly "What time is it?"

"After seven. Take a shower, I'll make you coffee."

The note that was stuck to your cheek tore off and fell to the floor. For a few seconds you both stared at it in silence, too sleepy to react. Eventually you got up.

The shower didn't bring any relief. You spent some time struggling with your bra, but you finally managed to put it on. You sobbed for a while before you left the bathroom, but then you wiped your cheeks so Frankie wouldn't see it.

He noticed it right away. Nothing could hide from him. A cup of coffee and scrambled eggs, but you barely ate anything. He promised to take you to school, because he was afraid your nerves wouldn’t allow you to get there safely.

"I'll text you when I get out." You said, hugging him tightly. "Keep your fingers crossed."

"Always, hermosa. Kick their asses. I love you."

You entered the building on shaky legs.

Your face lit up when you walked out of the building three hours later and saw Frankie leaning against the car door with his arms folded across his chest. You quickly said goodbye to your friends and almost ran up to him.

Before he could say anything, you threw your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"I did it! I did it!"

Strong arms wrapped around you tightly and he lifted you up. "Amazing! I told you, hermosa. No one will get in your way!"

Your hands grabbed his face and your lips collided in a hard kiss. You felt like you were kissing him for the first time. All the weight of the last few weeks, the stress and anxiety, all of it melted away the moment you saw Frankie.

"You should be at work." You noticed between the kisses you showered on his face, jaw and neck.

"And I was supposed to leave my woman alone in this hellish place? You don't know me that well, babe." he chuckled "I'm ready to spend the whole day with you. I'm taking you out for dinner. You must be really hungry."

Your stomach made a strange sound at his words. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I feel like I haven't eaten all week."

Frankie raised his eyebrows and nodded. "That's possible. Get in, hermosa. I'm taking you out of here."

Once you were seated and fastened your seatbelt, Frankie reached for something in the back and suddenly a small but lovely bouquet of flowers appeared before your eyes.

"I thought this might make you happy." he said, a little embarrassed. "You know, I knew you were prepared perfectly, but..."

Tears glistened in your eyes and your lips pouted. "Frankie..." you whimpered.

"Don't you like them?" he asked with fear.

"They're beautiful!" you sobbed. "And you... And you're so amazing!" tears ran down your cheeks "You supported me all this time, and I had to be so awful to you..."

"Sweetie, please..." he wanted to interrupt you, but you wouldn't let him.

"No, Frankie! Listen. If it weren't for you... You give me such support, you help me so much... I want you to know that I really see it and appreciate it. I have a huge guilty conscience for what happened recently. We didn't have time for each other, I was nervous, I cried every now and then. But you never said a bad word to me."

"That's what people who love each other do, babe. You're my gem, I couldn't have done it any other way."

You put your hand on the back of his neck and moved closer so quickly that you knocked his hat off his head, but he didn't care when he tasted your lips again.

His heart was full. Frankie felt like you had returned to his arms after a long journey, even though you never really left them. His tongue slipped between your lips and he felt his cock twitch slightly at the pleasant tenderness. Christ, he missed you so much.

"Take me home, Frankie." You said quietly after a moment, resting your forehead on his. "I want to be with you now."

"Aren't you hungry?"

You shook your head. "We'll order something later. I just want to be with you now."

He pecked your lips once more and started the engine. He felt pride, happiness, love and peace. You were next to him. You were his again. And even though he knew you'd probably turn into a walking hurricane a few more times, it didn't scare him. Together you were able to go through anything. You were his woman. Smart, beautiful, wonderful. He could do it all again so you could fulfill your dream.

"I love you, Frankie." You said quietly, and he kissed the back of your hand without taking his eyes off the road. "I've got your back."

"And I've got yours."

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[exololyunho]

vacation

masterlist

summary: a trip to the beach with your boyfriend and his best friend definitely doesn't go how you thought it would, but boy are you happy the way things turned out

pairing: jeong yunho/reader/song mingi

genre: smut with the barest amount of plot

wc: 4.2k

warnings: m/m/f, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, morning sex, lots of kissing, tipsy sex, definitely not enough kink negotiation, choking, spanking, soft dom!mingi, hardish dom! yunho, bossy yunho, threesome, creampie, double penetration, big dick yungi, finger sucking, voyeurism, bf!mingi

rating: mature

an: I will never stop with my 'yungi have fucked girls together before' agenda. also this is a request I got from @minkysmilk like a year ago I am so sorry it took so long but I hope I did a good job

taglist: @staytinyinmybpack@jeonride@becky4733107-blog@ignoretheskies

join the taglist here

“Babe,” Mingi’s finger poked into your cheek. “We’re here.”

With a yawn, you opened your eyes. The backseat of Yunho’s car was incredibly comfortable and you’d slept all 3 hours it took to get from you and Mingi’s shared apartment to Yunho’s parent’s beach house. 

Mingi was smiling at you through the rolled down passenger side window. He reached down to poke you again, but you swatted his hand away, grumbling about how you were up. It took a lot of effort to push yourself up and crawl out the door Mingi opened for you. 

Stepping out into the driveway, you couldn’t help but smile at the pastel blue cottage before you. When Yunho had said his parents owned a house at the beach, your brain had conjured pictures of a concrete and steel modern monstrosity. The quaint building before you was nothing like your image. It was small, no more than a 2 bedroom house decorated with seashells and flower bushes and large windows to let in the natural light.

As you stood marveling at the adorable house before you, Mingi was unloading the bags and groceries from the trunk and Yunho was walking out of the little alcove that hid the red front door.

“Welcome to home for the week, sleepy head,” Yunho grinned at you, moving to help Mingi grab bags.

“Yun, this is so cute!” You followed the two men, grabbing the last case of beer out of the trunk and shutting it. Walking inside after them, you gasped, loving the cute interior just as much as the outside. The walls were cream and the seashells of the outside were replaced by paintings of the very same ocean you could see outside the sliding glass doors that led to the back deck.

The cottage was everything you could ever want. The only problem, which Yunho had warned you and Mingi about beforehand, was the issue of the bedrooms. Specifically, the single bedroom. Yunho had volunteered to take the couch while you and Mingi would get the bed.

The rest of the evening was unremarkable, with Yunho ordering a few pizzas, and all of you hitting the sack early, so as to get the most out of the beach the next day.

When the sun was just peaking through the blinds, you felt Mingi nudge you. Rolling to face him, you were greeted with a kiss. It was lazy, slow, and everything you loved about Mingi in the mornings. 

His tongue nudged its way into your mouth, tangling with yours in a way that had your thighs pressing together. It wasn’t long before he was gently pushing you onto your back. Mingi moved to lay between your legs, your bodies pressed together while his lips still claimed yours. He was incredibly hard, grinding softly against you and letting out small sighs against your lips.

Growing impatient and increasingly turned on, your hands hurriedly pushed up the oversized shirt he was wearing, and the two of you parted for him to remove it before his lips were crashing back onto yours. 

The slow, sensual mood was gone, replaced by eagerness that had you both shrugging off your bottoms as fast as possible. Once they had been kicked away into the abyss of the comforter, you were reaching for Mingi’s dick to line him up.

“Wait, babe,” he panted, pulling back for a moment with a pout on his lips. “I wanted to eat you out.”

“Later,” you pulled his mouth back down to yours. “I want you inside me.”

He groaned, complying. Mingi hitched your thigh up on his hip and pushed inside you. Your back arched as he filled you. Before you started dating Mingi, you had no idea dicks actually came in his size. He was huge, longer and thicker than you thought possible. You’d never fancied yourself a size queen, but the way he practically split you in half every time you had sex was mind blowing.

This time was no different. Even with his hips rolling into you slowly, you could feel every vein and ridge on him. It was all you could do to keep from screaming from pleasure.

Mingi’s lips dropped down to your neck, nibbling and sucking along your pulse point in a way that had you shivering. Your nails were digging into his back, scrambling to get a grip that would help you anchor yourself to reality. 

As he picked up the pace and the force behind his thrusts, small noises began to be forced through your open lips. Mingi’s right hand, which had previously been clenched  in the sheets by your head, moved to cover your mouth.

“Shhhh, baby,” his lips were pressed to your ear. “We don’t want Yunho to hear.”

You didn’t want that. At least, you thought you didn’t until you felt yourself involuntarily tightening around Mingi at the mention of his best friend’s name.

“Oh?” Clearly, he had caught on. “Do you want him to listen to me fuck you? Want him to hear how well you take me? Or would you rather him see you like this, all needy and clenching on my cock when you hear his name?” 

Mingi had your earlobe between his teeth as he whispered filthy things in your ear. His hand over your mouth was quickly becoming not enough to hold back your noises, so he settled for slipping his middle and index fingers between your lips to press down on your tongue. 

“Maybe you want him to fuck you,” one thing you knew about Mingi was once he got an idea in his head, there was no getting it out. “Taking us both would probably break you, baby. Maybe I’d let him fuck your pussy while I fuck your mouth. How does that sound, huh?”

He’d moved back to ravishing your neck, no doubt leaving bites and hickeys that you wouldn’t be able to cover up. You wished you could care in the moment, but you were overwhelmed. Every part of you was floating on cloud 9. His lips on your neck, his fingers in your mouth, his filthy words, his hard thrusts inside you, and the weight of him over you was just too much.

With a loud whine, you came. The feeling rocked over you, causing you to spasm tightly around him. He bit down harshly on your shoulder at the feeling, giving a few more harsh thrusts that had you moaning around his fingers before he came as well, filling you up. 

Mingi removed his fingers and the two of you laid in silence for a moment, panting and holding onto each other. You couldn't speak for Mingi, but your mind was racing with so many new thoughts. You’d always thought Yunho was attractive, but it had never crossed your mind that sex with him was even an option before Mingi planted the seed in your head. You also knew that this had to be something Mingi was thinking about before and you definitely needed to talk about it.

Before you could, though, there was a knock at the door. Both you and Mingi jolted up. Yunho was on the other side. He cleared his throat before announcing “breakfast’s ready!” and hurriedly walking away.

You and Mingi just stared at each other before scurrying out of bed to clean up.

Throughout the rest of the day, you and Mingi just couldn’t seem to find the right time to talk about the Yunho thing. Something as simple as a morning quickie had completely changed the way you saw your boyfriend’s best friend. You didn’t just see Yunho anymore, now you saw his towering height, the curve of his neck, his long and slim fingers, his lean and powerful thighs, that bulge between his legs that made you wonder-

No. no. no.

Fucking Song Mingi had made it impossible for you to act normal, all because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

You kept finding your eyes drifting to Yunho. Sure you were also ogling your boyfriend, but when it came time to head down to the beach and both men removed their shirts to pass a football around, your eyes lingered on Yunho.

These new feelings were incredibly confusing. It took you almost three hours of blankly staring at the pages of your book while lounging in the sand to come to a conclusion. 

No, you did not want to leave Mingi for Yunho.

Yes, you wanted to have sex with Yunho.

No, this did not mean you were a terrible girlfriend.

And yes,  you really did need to talk to Mingi about this.

Unfortunately, you never got a chance before shit hit the fan.

Between everyone taking their turns to shower, and the three of you deciding on a restaurant for dinner that evening, you never found yourself alone with Mingi for more than a few minutes.

You did, however, find yourself alone with Yunho while Mingi showered. Standing in the kitchen, you sipping a pre-dinner beer while scrolling through your phone. When you heard footsteps approaching, you assumed it was your boyfriend, only to choke on the mouthful of fizzy liquid when Yunho strode in instead.

He gave you a quizzical look. “You ok, Y/n?”

“Yeah,” you coughed out, setting down the bottle and patting your chest.

Yunho grabbed his own beer, settling against the kitchen island and across from you. As his lips met the opening, taking a swig before his eyes scanned you. You’d chosen a simple pair of denim shorts and an oversized, cropped t-shirt. The night was warm and the restaurant you were going to was casual. Yunho had chosen a similar outfit. His jeans were wonderfully fitted and emphasized his wonderfully toned legs and his wonderfully outlined bulge that you were fleetingly glancing over, making sure to keep your eyes from lingering. His black shirt outlined his broad shoulders and created perfect contrast with his brown mullet.

As your eyes met his again, there was something in them that you couldn’t quite place. His gaze was striking, almost hungry. It stoked a fire in you that made something in you burn. You couldn’t figure out if the fire was in your cheeks, your chest, or between your thighs.

Yunho opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Mingi sauntered in, shaking his wet hair dressed in a button down and loose fitting jeans. He came to a stop next to Yunho. The two of them made a gorgeous pair. The contrast of their similar but very different outfits, and of Yunho’s brown mullet and Mingi’s shaggy black hair.

One thing about them was scarily similar, and that was how they looked at you. Yunho’s gaze was the same as it had been before Mingi walked in but now Mingi’s matched. You’d seen that look in his eyes many times when you were supposed to go out to dinner. Usually, though, that look meant you wouldn’t make it out of the front door.

Your throat was dry and you downed what was left of your beer.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, setting the empty bottle on the counter behind you. “Let’s get going.”

The restaurant was open air with beautiful views of the fading sun and the ocean. The three of you were sitting at a high top table on the edge of the patio. Within the hour, the three of you were laughing, the guys telling stories about each other growing up, glasses and plates littering the table. The air was jovial, other occupied tables also laughing and conversing among each other and the waiters carrying cups and bottles.

“And then,” Mingi was gasping with laughter. “And then Yunho ate absolute shit falling off the bench. He fell face first into the sand. I swear to god he was picking sand out of his nose for weeks!”

The table exploded in laughter, Yunho was chuckling through his hands that were covering his burning face. 

“God, that was awful,” Yunho reached over the table to shove Mingi, who was busy wiping his tears away with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your waist.

More stories followed, accompanied by more drinks. Before long, it was late and the three of you were paying and then making your way back to the beach house.

You made it back to the beach house just after 10pm, but none of you were ready for bed. So, with all three of you desiring to continue the fun, Mingi grabbed three beers and the three of you settled in the living room. 

Before long, with just enough alcohol to loosen tongues to the point of no return, the topic of sex was brought up. Specifically, a part of Yunho and Mingi’s sexual history you weren’t aware of previously.

“So, that’s how we ended up tag teaming a girl for the first time,” Yunho shrugged as if the story of how the best friends picked up a girl at a drunken house party and then took her home to rock her world wasn’t information that had you practically soaking your shorts. 

Your eyes met Mingi’s and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, or if you could actually read each other's thoughts. All that was coursing through your mind was the sex you had with Mingi this morning. The way he had asked if you wanted Yunho to watch you, to touch you, to fuck you.

“Speaking of our… old activities,” Mingi turned to face Yunho. “One more time?”

You couldn’t see Mingi’s face with how intently you were staring at Yunho’s, but you could tell from his voice that his eyebrow was raised and he had that dangerous smirk pulling at his lips.

“I’m not opposed,” Yunho’s eyes were raking over you with an intensity that made you shudder. “I’d love a taste.”

“I’m sure she would, too,” Mingi turned back to face you, his hand slipping to your inner thigh.

Both men looked to you expectantly. You were quivering under the intense gazes of your boyfriend and the new object of your affection. It took you a moment to realize they were waiting for an answer to their proposition.

“Yeah,” your voice was weak on the first try. “Yes. Yes I want you to…”

“Want us to do what?” Yunho’s voice was deeper than before, his eyes dark, and his tongue wetting his lips in anticipation.

Your mouth was dry, unlike between your thighs. “I want both of you to… to fuck me.”

Matching evil grins spread across both of their faces. Mingi dragged you from his side to sit between him and Yunho. Your back was to Mingi’s chest as you sat between his legs, his left hand on your stomach and his right hand holding your thighs open to Yunho. You were still dressed, but with the way Yunho was staring at you intently, you were sure that would change very quickly.

One of his hands gently slid up your calf, coming to a stop at your knee to gauge your reaction. You could only watch his hand with bated breath, both of yours clutching at Mingi’s pants.

Seeing no resistance, Yunho’s hands moved higher up your thighs until they landed on the waistband of your shorts. To match Yunho’s movements, Mingi’s hands moved to the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head as Yunho popped the button and slowly slid down the zipper. Mingi gently guided you to lift your hips, allowing Yunho to slide the shorts down over your legs.

You were left in your bra and underwear, chest already heaving as Yunho scanned you from top to bottom all over again. His hands rested on your thighs, his very large hands that were nearly spanning across them entirely. Even as you watched Yunho, you found yourself still surprised when his grip on your legs tightened and he was jerking you down. Your head now rested between Mingi’s legs, with your own thrown over Yunho’s legs.

Without hesitation, Yunho was over you, his face inches from yours. Your mouth was agape with shock, the pressure of his body, more specifically his erection was leaving you speechless. 

He was grinning, letting you just lay underneath him for a moment longer. Until Yunho’s lips came crashing down onto yours. Unlike the slow way Mingi would build up to intense kisses, Yunho offered you no such mercy. His kisses were intense from the get-go, his lips harshly claiming yours, his tongue stroking out to caress yours, his hands digging to whatever skin he could reach. Before you knew it you were arching up into Yunho, grasping at his shoulders as soft whines escaped you.

Just when you were ready for more, Yunho pulled away. You were panting, staring up at him when Mingi’s hand slipped beneath you, quickly unclasping your bra, before pulling it off, revealing even more of you to Yunho’s wandering eyes. Those eyes didn’t move from your breasts as he reached down to remove your underwear. 

It was exhilarating to find yourself completely naked between two of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen, who are also fully clothed.

“Let’s move to the bedroom, baby,” Mingi’s hands moved beneath your shoulder blades to lift you up into a sitting position. From there, he took your hand, helping you up as Yunho watched, hungrily.

As Mingi led you into the hallway you glanced over your shoulder at Yunho, only to find his hand swinging toward your ass. You heard the slap before you felt it, the sharp sting shooting though you right to between your legs.

A squeak left your lips followed by a gasp followed by a moan when Yunho dragged you back against him, one hand coming up to grasp your breast, tweaking your nipple. Your eyes slipped shut as Yunho’s hand on your breast moved down to circle your clit as his other hand grasped your throat. 

“Fuck,” Mingi muttered under his breath. His voice drew your eyes open. You found him palming himself through his pants, his lip between his teeth as he watched his best friend holding your bare body tight against his.

Yunho continued his ministrations while you made eye contact with Mingi. Soon, you were shaking and whining, so close to cumming. But then his hands left you.

“Wha-”

You were interrupted by Yunho stepping back and slapping your ass once again. You jolted forward, reaching out to grab on to Mingi to stop yourself from falling. He caught you, turning you to face Yunho.

“Go get on the bed,” Yunho’s voice was incredibly deep. You would have been pissed at the way he was ordering around if you weren’t so turned on and close to cumming you’d trade your first born for an orgasm. “Hands and knees.”

When you hesitated for a moment, he quirked an eyebrow at you. “Or we can just go to bed if that’s what you’d prefer?”

Shaking your head you turned, moving past Mingi into the open bedroom door. Once inside, you took a shaky breath, readying yourself for the absolute experience you were about to have.

As you moved into the position Yunho ordered, you heard the muffled voices of Mingi and Yunho whispering in the hallway. It abruptly ended and both men entered the room. You were facing the head of the bed, facing away from the door, but that just meant that your exposed pussy was directly in front of the door.

You didn’t dare look behind you as both men walked in, keeping your eyes focused ahead, strictly on the headboard. The door shut and you waited with bated breath to see what they would do. A few moments passed before the bed shifted behind you and lips landed on your ass cheek. They left a few kisses before biting into the reddened flesh. You gasped at the pain but before you could process it, the teeth were gone, replaced by a tongue that was poking into your folds. The feeling was incredible and you released a moan of relief.

The tongue alternated between circling your clit and thrusting inside of you. It was bringing you nonstop pleasure, but just being inconsistent enough to keep you on the edge. Within a few moments of the mystery man starting, you were whimpering, begging for more. 

“Please, please,” your eyes were shut tight, your head hanging.

A hand fisted in your hair, pulling your head back up.

“Please what, baby?” Mingi was on the bed before you, and he was naked. That meant Yunho was the one eating you out.

“Please let me cum.”

Mingi smiled, guiding his hard dick to your mouth as Yunho moved his tongue to solely focus on your clit, two of his fingers sliding deep inside you and curling down into your g-spot. You managed to cum nearly immediately when Yunho applied consistent pressure to your clit. 

Your eyes rolled shut as your orgasm washed over you. The feeling was intense, everything you had been hoping for. It felt like you were drowning. The combination of Mingi’s length in your mouth certainly helped extend it. It was so hot, to be kneeling on the bed, your boyfriend’s dick in your mouth while another man ate you out. 

Mingi’s hooded eyes were on you, his hand still in your hair as you came down. With your senses returning, you were able to really focus on blowing him. Your tongue circled around the tip before you took as much of him down as you could, only managing about three quarters before your throat spasmed in protest.

With your attention on Mingi, you nearly forgot Yunho was there. Until you felt the head of his cock pressing against your folds. Your eyes went wide as he pushed in. Of course he was just as big as Mingi. It felt like you were being split open by his dick. If someone asked you to guess how long his dick was based on feel alone, you’d guess two feet long. 

It took your breath away as Yunho bottomed out. Your watering eyes were still on Mingi as you did your best to blow him the way you knew he liked.

However, once Yunho started thrusting, it was game over. As he slowly drew out of you for the first time, you really felt every ridge and vein. If you thought Yunho was going to go easy on you at first, you were wrong. 

He harshly thrust back into you, forcing a decidedly unsexy noise from your throat as the head of his dick just barely hit your cervix. He started moving faster but still just as powerful, playing with the angle until he directly hit your g-spot. You nearly collapsed, your eyes rolling back.

“That’s the spot,” you could practically hear the wicked smirk on Yunho’s face as he adjusted to hit that spot on every thrust.

With you being lost in the pleasure, unable to continue effectively sucking Mingi’s dick, he took over, thrusting into your mouth. That left both men on either end of you, simply using your body for their own pleasure, and subsequently pushing your own pleasure higher and higher. 

The sound of Yunho’s grunts and Mingi’s soft moans and muttered curses were music to your ears. It was incredible to hear the effect you were having on them.

You were jerked back to reality when Yunho’s sweaty chest pressed against your back, his lips pressing to your ear and one hand wrapping around your throat again.

“I heard you two this morning,” he nipped at your earlobe. “Mingi asking you if you wanted me to fuck you, and all you can do is moan and cum.”

You were clenching up at his words.

“You wanted me that badly, huh? Well now you’ve got me. How does my dick feel, darling?” His hips jerked brutally into you, and you spasmed around him, moaning lewdly onto Mingi.

“That’s what I thought,” Yunho leaned back, his hand leaving your throat and moving down to your clit. “Now, be good and cum while we fill you up.”

Both him and Mingi picked up the pace, panting and pushing hard into you to chase their own pleasure. You were chasing your own, moving back against Yunho’s thrusting while he mapped out tight circles on your clit.

The pressure in your stomach was mounting as each rotation brought you closer and closer until, finally, you came once more. The feeling washed over you, even more intense than your previous orgasm. Fireworks were shooting behind your closed lids as your high kept cresting. With Yunho not slowing his thrusting or rubbing your clit and Mingi still using your mouth, it seemed like you never stopped cumming. Your arms were shaking as the feeling overwhelmed you.

Your spasming and moaning around both of the men had pushed them to the brink as well. Mingi came first, his final stuttering moan accompanying one last thrust into your mouth before he came. You swallowed his release, your body moving before your mind could catch up.

Yunho followed close behind, encouraged by how you rhythmically clenched around him and the noises Mingi made as you swallowed around him. His thrusts were sporadic as he came inside of you, gripping your hips tightly, holding you against him.

As all three of you came down, both of the men slowly pulled out of you, their hands careful to keep you from just collapsing. They let you lay down, Mingi brushing your hair out of your face as he laid on your right, Yunho on your left.

“Fuck,” was all you could say.

“Yeah, fuck.”

[elfpen]

Emily Wilde series fan cast

Alright, I have no idea how many of you have actually read these books but I discovered them a few weeks ago and devoured them. Absolutely charming and, dare I say, enchanting characters and a great story.

I don’t always have super detailed pictures in my head of what all the characters look like, but for these books I actually had an incredibly strong mental picture for most of the characters, Emily in particular, so here is my fancast for Emily, Wendell, and Ariadne.

1. Emily:

Off the bat I had a very clear image of Emily, and that image is Elizabeth Dulau!

Specifically, I saw Emily a lot in Elizabeth’s portrayal of Klaya in Andor:

2. Wendell

It was a lot harder to settle on one concrete look for Wendell, and I’m still not 100% sure this is the best fit, but the actor closest to my mental picture that I’ve been able to find is Toby Regbo:

I mean look at him, dude already has some experience in a crown, as well as looking generally well dressed and dramatically put out:

3. Ariadne

Finally, I was surprised by how quickly I developed a picture of Ariadne in my head, and that mental picture looks very much like Amandla Stenberg!

Like LOOK AT HER she’s perfect

Anyway that is all. To whatever small fandom for this series exists on tumblr: let me know what you think!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Quicksilver Princess Ch. 5

Series summary: A fantasy AU in which Dean is part of a long line of warriors who protect the kingdom. What happens when his rescue of the little princess with the quicksilver eyes gets him a possible future bride?

Series Warnings: Nothing major. Show typical violence. Fantasy violence. Smut. Angst. Fluff. Each chapter will have its own specific warnings. So, watch for those.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x OFC (Melissande)

Word Count: 5,730

A/N: This is the ridiculously long postponed Chapter 5. (Ch. 4 was posted more than 2 years ago! 🙈🙈) This fic won my poll to see what orphaned series I'd finish next. And I'm so thrilled that I'm finally able to finish it. I swear Chapter 6 will be up in the next week or so at the latest. It's all outlined and ready to go, just gotta write it out. But it will DEFINITELY not be another two years. *crosses heart*

Hope you enjoy this chapter! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Dean came awake with a start, sitting up quickly and then immediately groaning and pressing his hand to his head as it throbbed. He squeezed his eyes closed for a minute, feeling slightly nauseous and trying to make sense of the jumble of images in his mind. 

Mellie's face floated into focus and his eyes popped open.

“Mellie?” He called out, sitting up quickly and looking around as his head throbbed again. A few feet away, Rowena held out her hands towards him.

“Try not to move too quickly. I had to use strong magic to fell you and that can sometimes leave a person feeling a wee bit peaky.”

Suddenly everything came rushing back to Dean and he jumped up, charging towards the tiny witch. He stopped just short of wrapping his hands around her neck, but his fingers itched from the restraint.

“You let her go!” He roared at her. “To save your own skin you gave her up just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

Rowena shook her head. “You've really a very low opinion of me, haven't you? This is the second time you've accused me of selling out our wee princess.”

Dean clenched his teeth. “Because I know who you are and how you operate. You'd do anything to save yourself.”

Rowena shrugged. “I won't apologize for prioritizing my safety. But it just so happens that this time, the princess's safety and mine go hand in hand. I need her to stop the Queen because nothing that duplicitous, mangy monarch has planned could possibly do me, or any of us for that matter, any good.”

Dean swallowed hard. “So you sent Mellie out to be slaughtered, and you think THAT is a solution? If anything, you've just made the queen's attempt at power that much easier.”

Rowena shook her head. “No, because you are going to save her, remember?”

Dean growled in frustration, turning abruptly to begin pacing around thel grand entranceway. “You're as bad as Mellie! Just how am I supposed to get into the castle, past hundreds of guardsmen, through the queen's own personal guards and into her suites to stop her from…”

He lifted his arms and spun back to face the witch. “From what exactly? We have no idea what she's doing, what she's planning! So, how can I even try to go in prepared?”

Rowena nodded. “It’s a quandary to be sure, but you’re a resourceful young lad, I have faith you’ll figure it out.”

Dean just glared at her. Rowena raised a delicate shoulder. “Look, all I can tell you is that the Queen may pretend she’s a part of the Great Church as the monarchs are meant to be, but she’s a witch, through and through, except that she's a coward and hides it. But her father was a devout follower of the old gods, and he taught her to be the same.”

Dean frowned. “How do you know that?”

Rowena looked away coyly. “I maybe, perhaps, let him court me for a few years after his wife died.”

Dean’s eyes got wide. “So you know the Queen? Personally?”

Rowena scoffed. “I wouldn’t claim that much. When I was with Roland, little Layo’ita was hardly ever around. Her days were mostly spent learning how to marry King Yasa and be his First Queen. 

Yasa’s maiden aunt lived at Roland’s keep to teach Layo’ita how to be royal - the protocols and expectations, as well as the history of the Coll family’s reign of Sanso’ye for three hundred years. She had a lot to learn, so we didn’t see her often. She’d essentially been the Coll’s property from the day the betrothal papers were signed when she was just two weeks old.”

Rowena sighed. “I could almost feel sorry for her back then. She was just this plain little slip of a girl, and it must have been a very heavy burden for her to carry.”

Dean grit his teeth. “Yes, well now she’s a murderer, so I’m afraid I don’t share your sympathy.”

Rowena arched an eyebrow. “I said I could ALMOST feel sorry for her. But even back then, she had a kind of mean streak in her. And Roland encouraged it. When she was ten years old she was practicing a complicated courtier’s dance and slipped and fell flat on her arse. Her handmaid, the woman who had been assigned to her at birth, who’d doted on her constantly for ten years, chuckled slightly at the slip up and Layo’ita had her taken away and severely whipped. When he found out about it, Roland told her she’d done right, that she was a product of the old gods and they wouldn’t allow for mockery.”

Rowena’s lip curled. “I didn’t stay with him long after that.” She sighed. “I know for a fact that he encouraged her to pursue magic and the old ways. But she hides it very well. I don’t think many people in the kingdom even have a clue about her witchery. Hypocrite.” She huffed. 

Dean closed his eyes. “Alright, how does any of this help me? It just means that on top of the couple hundred guardsmen and personal guards between me and the Queen, apparently I also have her powerful magical abilities to contend with.”

“Yes, which is an important fact to know going in, don’t you think?” Rowena asked with pique. “You’re welcome, Winchester.”

Dean sighed. “Yes, thank you, Witch.” He rubbed a hand over his face. His stomach felt sick as he thought of Mellie holed up with a crazed, dark-hearted woman bent on power.

“I don’t know where to start.” He said, a little desperately. “Obviously I need help, but I’m telling you, the other Warriors won’t listen to me. Or the vast majority of them won’t.”

Rowena shook her head. “I think you’re underestimating your own persuasiveness as well as the Warriors’ sense of what’s right. The members of your clan have powerful instincts that skirt the edges of being magical themselves.”

“We are not magical.” Dean said with a frown. “We're just very good at our duties, and we take our oaths seriously.”

Rowena rolled her eyes. “As you say, dear. The point being that those good instincts will help them hear the truth of your mission.”

Dean shook his head and sighed deeply. “I suppose it's my only hope, isn't it?”

“Likely is.” She held up a finger. “Just wait one moment, I have something that might help you.”

She walked out of the room, but was back almost instantly with two small leather bundles that she handed to Dean. He looked at them and raised a brow.

Rowena covered them in his hand. “These reveal spell work. You've got a powerful witch on your hands, one who has been able to hide her magic for a very long time. But this bag will glow purple in the presence of magic and if you burn one, it will reveal to you what magic has been used, so you can't be fooled by trickery.”

Dean nodded. “That will be helpful, thank you.”

Rowena smiled at him, and he recognized it as genuine. “You can thank me when that wee princess is safe and that lying, cowardly Witch Queen is dead.”

Dean nodded. “Done.”

***

Melissande was trying not to panic.

The ride from Rowena’s to the castle had taken half a day. Her surrender had been simple enough; she’d merely told the Guardsmen that she was ready to be taken to the First Queen, and one of them had swept her up in front of him on his horse and shackled her wrists before galloping away. They’d traveled for hours and had arrived at the castle just as the sun was at its zenith in the sky.

The solar eclipse will happen in less than a day, Melissande thought with a little thrill of fear. But then she shook her head. No, I believe in you, my Winchester Warrior, I know you’ll get here on time.

When they got to the castle, the guard she’d been riding with lifted her down and then took her to a cell in the dungeons of the castle. It was bleak, but it was clean and there was one high window that let in some light and air.

As dungeons went, she supposed it could be worse.

She’d been to the King's Castle less than a dozen times throughout her life, and only a handful of times in the last dozen years. All her life she'd lived with her mother in the Blue wing of the Northern Castle. When she was younger, her father’s other wives and children had lived there too. The Second Queen had lived in the Yellow Wing with her son, and the Third Queen had lived in the Green Wing with her two daughters.

Melissande was many years younger than her other siblings and as such, they’d never been close. 

The First Queen had given birth to one son and one daughter. But the baby girl had died very shortly after birth, and she’d never met her eldest brother, heir to the throne, Prince Lien. By the time she was born, he was living far away, governing some of Sanso’ye’s territories in The Lands Beyond.

Her second brother, Prince Ar'tak, was a captain in the King’s Forces and fighting in some endless war across the sea. She only had vague, unreliable memories of him, since he left when she was barely four years old. 

Her two elder sisters, Par’ita, and Sol’min had been married off to lesser Princes in Misola, when Melissande was eight. They had been seventeen and eighteen respectively and with a decade separating their ages, they'd had very little interest in spending time with their eight year old half sister.

So, she didn’t really know any of her half-siblings very well, but she’d been close with her father. Or she thought she had.

But since he’d stopped coming to visit the Northern castle when she was six, she'd only seen him from afar during those official events that her mother had insisted they travel south to attend, “because it was the proper thing to do”. Her sisters’ weddings had been two of those occasions. 

Every time they'd gone to the castle, no matter how brief their visit, Melissande had always secretly hoped her father would notice her and come running, excited to see her once again, as he used to be.

She still remembered how it used to feel when he would come to visit. They usually knew he'd be coming, but sometimes he surprised them, and he'd stride through the door of their sitting room, and his deep, calm, voice would fill the stone room with warmth.

Melissande would jump up and run to him, despite her mother's loving admonishment that proper ladies didn't run and leap into people's arms. Her father had no such compunction, however, and would whisk her off the ground in a sweeping arc that made her squeal in delight.

Her mother may not have leapt into his arms, but she walked into them quickly, and happily. Her father would hold her in one arm and wrap the other around her mother's waist and pull her close. Hera would rest her head on his wide chest, and it was always the happiest Melissande ever saw her.

When he stopped coming to visit them, Melissande missed him terribly, but she didn't think her mother ever really got over his loss. She stayed the same loving, caring mother she'd always been, but underneath she always seemed just a little sad. It hurt Melissande's heart to know her mother died with that sadness still inside her; she’d never be relieved of it.

Maybe, if the priests or sorcerers were right, her mother was resting peacefully with her lost family and ancestors in another realm, and maybe Melissande would be able to see her there again, one day.

But not anytime soon. She thought. Because Dean is coming to save me.

As Melissande sank onto the dingy, slightly dusty floor, an idea came to her. Maybe Dean would reach out to the king and explain what was happening. She refused to believe her father knew everything that was going on, and was simply refusing to help her, or worse, was in on the Queen's plans.

Why hadn’t she thought to tell Dean to seek him out. Had she actually feared his involvement, deep down, or had he just been out of her life for so long, that reaching out to him for help simply hadn’t occurred to her.

Before she could ponder the troubling idea for long, however, Layo’ita came sweeping grandly into the dungeon to smile wickedly at Melissande in her cage.

The silver-eyed princess jumped to her feet quickly as the queen approached the bars of the cell. The First Queen was draped in seemingly endless silks, many layers of long trains trailing behind her in the dust. Her skin was pulled so tightly over her bones that her face resembled a grinning skull as she laughed at Melissande.

“Oh, my wee little bastard fey, how beautiful you've become. You favor your whorish mother, though of course, your eyes come from your father's side of the family.”

Melissande felt her muscles stiffen at the insult to her mother, but ignored it, since she knew Layo’ita was just trying to rile her. 

“You won't get away with this, witch. My father will stop you.”

The Queen's ghoulish mouth spread wide and a laugh that was almost a cackle poured out. 

“You think…” More laughter. “You believe your father will stop me?”

She stepped close to the bars and spoke softly. “Trust me when I say, he's most assuredly on my side.”

Melissande’s heart balked at that idea. But she hadn't seen her father for nearly thirteen years. Did she even really know him? Until she'd been sitting in this cell, it hadn't even occurred to her to go to him for help.

Layo'ita was still chuckling as she tilted her head as though contemplating Melissande. Then she nodded like she was answering her own question. 

“Why not?” She said aloud and snapped her fingers.

As fast as blinking, Melissande was suddenly in a different cell - a much darker one. There was no window here and the air was fetid and dank. It smelled like mold and old rotting things. As her eyes adjusted slowly, she could make out the stone walls, and the chains that were attached to them at various points.

All she could hear was a rhythmic drip, drip, drip of water off to her right, and the scuttling and scurrying of what had to be mice or rats of some kind.

Grateful that she wasn't attached to the chains that hung there, Melissande began walking around the long narrow cell. As she got a sense of her surroundings, she realized the room was split in two parts; a crumbling wall that was half collapsed, separated them.

She walked carefully towards the wall and then pulled up short when a voice called out from the other side.

“Who's there? Go away! Leave me alone!”

She jumped at the sudden noise, and her heart was beating out of her chest. But despite the stranger's words, she moved forward. There was something familiar in that voice, though it sounded parched and slightly raw.

She walked tentatively around to the other side of the half wall and her heart stopped all together as she saw the man huddled in the corner.

“Father?”

***

The taproom in King's Town was busy, but not stuffed full when Dean walked in. Good, he'd be able to be heard. The barman, Sterin, waved to Dean. He knew him well.

He began pouring his usual mug of ale, but Dean waved him off. 

“Apologies, Sterin, I have no time for drinking tonight. I'm only here to address your patrons.” He waved at the table of a dozen or so Warriors.

Both Sterin and the Warriors grumbled, most of the Winchesters turned away from him and concentrated intently on the ale in their cups.

But he was eternally grateful that two of his friends were there. Robert and Jody were a married couple who'd trained together and then fought together very impressively for more than twenty years. They'd always maintained a stalwart support of John and Sam, though most of their fellow Winchester Warriors said they were fools.

Their friendship had kept Dean sane in the early days after the loss of his father and brother.

They were stationed at the Southernmost Winchester Keep, located on The Shield, so they rarely came this far North. He wanted to believe it was Providence that had brought them so far just when he needed them the most.

They both stood up, and Jody came forward to hug him.

“Dean! We were going to head out to see you on our way back down south. But this is better! Now we can dine together.”

“And drink.” Robert added, shaking Dean's hand and slapping him on the back.

“It's so good to see you both, but I'm afraid I have no time to eat or drink.”

Robert's face became serious and Jody's was worried.

“What's wrong, son?” Robert asked.

Dean nodded at them, but called out to the other Warriors at the long table as well. 

“I need help from all of you.” A couple Winchesters looked his way, but most of them just ignored him.

“The kingdom needs you.”

That got a few more heads to turn in his direction.

One of the men he didn't know very well, he thought he was called Ketch, scowled at him. “And why should we believe anything you say, traitor.”

Robert bristled and took a step towards the snide man, but Dean grabbed his forearm. “No, it's fine.” He said in an easy tone.

“I just need you to listen.” Before he could be interrupted, he spoke quickly. “Fourth Queen Hera is dead, and her daughter, the Princess Melissande has been taken prisoner by the Guardsmen.”

He knew he'd hit the right nerve by mentioning the Guardsmen, as all the Warriors grumbled and a few actually spit as though they were warding off evil. The Warriors were not keen on the Guardsmen, feeling correctly that they'd been usurped by them.

Robert shook his head. “How can Queen Hera be dead? When did this happen? And what possible reason did those tin cans give for taking the little princess?” He asked, using the insulting nickname given to the Guardsmen because of their metal armor.

“The Queen was killed, and they took Mellie because the First Queen claims that she was the one who murdered her mother.”

There was general scoffing and disbelief among the group, including some of the other patrons. 

“Mellie?” Jody asked quietly, raising a knowing brow, while the others talked amongst themselves and shared their doubts.

Dean looked down at Jody and he knew she could read him like an open book, so he was grateful to look away and return to the questions being thrown at him. 

More slowly than he really had patience for, he eventually explained the whole story to everyone's satisfaction. He left out the part where he and Mellie got married. If they all lived through this he wanted her to have the ability to annul their marriage quietly and without harming her reputation. So, he simply told them that he'd tried to protect her without providing particulars.

He also left out the fact that he believed the First Queen was a powerful witch, only saying that they were unsure what the First Queen wanted with Mellie. That little detail might be too much for the credibility of the story. Also, they’d demand to know why he believed it and he didn’t want to sell Rowena out and bring her trouble. He just needed The Warriors to help him get in the door; he'd deal with the witch himself.

As the Warriors’ questions fell silent, Ketch raised one last important one.

“And where exactly is the King in all of this? I know over the last dozen years, he's taken a much more subdued role; most people agree that the attempt on his life by men he trusted completely, has made him overly cautious. But surely, in such a situation, with his wife murdered and his own child implicated, surely he'd show himself to deal with it.”

Dean nodded. “Exactly my thoughts, and yet we've heard nothing from him. He hasn't come to any of us or the Guardsmen to try and find the murderer. And in fact, no one even knows Queen Hera is dead.”

He took a deep breath. “I believe the King has been incapacitated in some way. I believe he is unable to act or to give voice to his needs.”

“Uh, Dean,” Jody raised her finger in the air. “Just one problem with that theory, Robert and I spoke with him earlier this afternoon and he wasn't incapacitated at all.”

Dean was taken aback. “Why and how did you meet with the King?”

Robert answered. “We've been after the Council for months now to sit down with us about the state of things in The Shield. There are marauders there, coming in from the sea, and killing and pillaging the villagers up and down the coast. But the council has refused every time, saying it was on us as Warriors to deal with it.”

Jody cut him off, clearly frustrated. “How we're supposed to ‘deal with it’ is beyond me. We have four Warriors to cover the entire Shield, and almost no resources. We've written endless letters that have gone unanswered, or were answered in a very unsatisfactory way. So today we finally just showed up and refused to leave until we met with the Council.”

“We met with them alright,“ Robert continued the story, “and the King was there too. We weren't expecting that. But he said he came because he was very annoyed with us. He told us that he was aware of the problem, but he was sick to death of hearing about how we were failing him once again. He was angry and certainly didn't seem incapable of voicing his concerns.”

Dean frowned, a frown that turned into a scowl as Ketch stared at him. “So, what exactly are we to believe, hmm? That the king is well and fine, but will not come to us for help because we are now despised thanks to your family? Or should we take you at your word, and believe this very intricate lie you've concocted?”

“I have spoken no lie here.” Dean said firmly, his voice dark and deep. “The Princess is being held by the First Queen, there is a plot to end her life, and it's up to us to save her. I don't know what the King's role is in all of this, but I feel in my gut that something has gone very wrong for him. I just don't understand what.”

He breathed in deeply and put every ounce of conviction into his words. 

“I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Mellie will die if we don't save her. So, I am asking you all, begging you, in fact, to believe me when I say the kingdom is in trouble. Believe me when I say, my father and brother were innocent. And believe me when I tell you that our answers, and our chance to once again fulfill our oaths to protect Sanso’ye and its people, are waiting beyond the Guardsmen at the gate. Our answers lay inside the castle, they lay in saving the princess that I've already saved once.”

He clenched his jaw, his resolve hardening. “And with or without you all, I will save her again.” He let his chest deflate. “But, I could sure use your swords, Winchesters.”

Robert and Jody flanked him. Jody patted his arm. “You have ours, gladly.”

Slowly a few of the others stood, and then more, and then finally all but Ketch, stood with swords at the ready. 

Dean stared at the last man sitting down and Ketch stared back, studying him. Finally, he drained his cup and stood. 

“It's about time someone showed those Guardsmen how it's done. I certainly won't miss out on that.”

Dean sighed and let a small smile lift the corner of his mouth. 

“Alright, what's the strategy?”

***

Melissande felt her world tilt as she looked down at the man she barely recognized as her father. Surely he hadn't deteriorated so much since she'd last seen him a year ago, at the Thistle Day celebration. It was the annual anniversary of the day the Coll family supposedly sprung from the earth in a field of Thistles to be caretakers of Sanso’ye. When she'd seen him from afar, he'd been fit, hale and hearty, as he'd given the royal benediction to the week long celebrations.

Now though, chained to the wall, he was gaunt almost to the point of starvation and even in the dim light that emanated from a small lamp sitting beside him, his skin looked gray and papery.

Beside the lamp sat an empty bucket and a few piles of bones, including what was obviously the skeleton of a rat. Melissande felt her stomach lurch and she was worried she might be sick.

As she took a few steps closer to the man on the ground, he picked up some of the bones and threw them at her. 

“Get away from me you shrew! I told you this won't work anymore. I know your disgusting tricks now.”

He was obviously furious, but his voice was reedy and thin as he railed at her. In spite of her confusion and fear, her heart broke for the pain she could hear in his words, and in the way he curled in on himself.

She took a step closer and he buried his head in his drawn up, skinny knees. “Can't you just leave me here to die.”

Tears fell as she knelt on the filthy floor beside him. “Papa?” She whispered and she saw him flinch like he'd been slapped. 

She reached out and tentatively touched his cheek. He raised his head and stared at her with tears falling. “Layo, please stop. I don't understand your hatred. Just stop.”

Melissande shook her head. “Papa, I don't know what you're saying. It's me. I'm not…I mean, how could I be the First Queen?”

She stayed close to him, and could see the change coming over his face as an obviously very wary hope cropped up. 

“Come…come closer, child.”

She got even closer to him and he inhaled deeply, sniffing at her. More confused than ever, Melissande looked at him and shook her head.

“What are you doing?”

Her father's mask of pain and fear slipped a little further into hope. “You…smell like sunshine.” He croaked, and more tears fell. “Her Duplicates always smell of rotting eggs.” 

His chains rattled as he lifted his manacled hand to reach out and touch her cheek. He gasped in a watery breath. 

“You're warm!” He said shakily. “Oh, beautiful girl, say you're really my sweet Melissande or just end me here, please, I beg you. I can't take having it ripped away from me again.”

“It's me, Papa. I promise. But what don't you want ripped away from you?”

“Hope.” He said, his voice creaky. “Every time she sends down a Duplicate, they work even harder to convince me that you, or Hera are here to save me. They seem to know things, and I want to believe them so badly. But no matter how real she makes them, she can't get rid of their cold skin or disgusting smell.”

Fear crept back into his gaze. “Please don't just be a better version.”

Melissande threw her arms around his neck like she had when she was little. 

“No, Papa. I'm real, I'm here. Believe me.”

“Alright.” He said gruffly. “I will believe you, because I want to so badly.”

Melissande pulled back, wiping away tears and shaking her head. “But I'm so confused. Why are you down here? How long have you been down here?”

Yasa looked at her and gave a watery sigh. “How old are you now, little one?”

Melissande blinked. “Nineteen, heading towards twenty years old. Why?”

“Well, I've completely lost track of time down here. I always tried to guess based on how old the Duplicates of you looked, and I knew it had been years, but I was never sure. If you're nineteen, though, then that means I've been down here for twelve years.”

Melissande gasped. “Twelve years! How is that possible? I just saw you a year ago on Thistle Day.”

Yasa shook his head. “No, that wasn't me. it was Thistle Day twelve years ago that she did this to me.”

“Twelve years.” Melissande whispered. “My god, that was when…” She stared at her father and raised a questioning brow, Dean's face swimming in her mind's eye.

“Papa, twelve years ago, The Winchester Warrior Chieftain, John, was hanged for an attempted assassination, on you. His son was incarcerated in the mines for aiding him. But, were you even there then?”

Yasa closed his eyes. “Yes, I was there. In fact, John and Sam were only in the castle that night because I'd called them to me.”

He ran a knobby, skinny hand down his face. “I suspected Layo was plotting something, but I didn't know what, and I didn't know who I could trust in the castle. So, I went to Sam and John on my own, hidden within a long traveling cloak so no one would know it was me. I asked them to come to the castle after midnight when it was quiet, and help me work out the truth, and to meet me in the library in the West Wing.”

He sighed and let his head drop back against the damp, weeping stone wall. 

“I knew Layo dabbled in a bit of magic here and there, but I had no idea she was so practiced and powerful.”

Yasa closed his eyes tightly. “When I went into the library to wait for them, she was already there, holding a knife to your throat. And when John and Sam arrived she was holding a knife to mine.”

Melissande was shaking her head as her father opened his eyes. “No, what do you mean? The Queen never kidnapped me or threatened me with a kni-”

Melissande's eyes widened. “A Duplicate.”

Yasa nodded. “Yes, and another when Sam and Dean saw me there being threatened. She needed to keep the real me alive to connect with her Duplicate, so she couldn't risk an actual knife to my throat. But Sam and John couldn't have known that.

How confused they must have been when, hours later, it seemed as if I just stood there while they were charged with trying to kill me. They must have believed I was in on their downfall, and they couldn't possibly know who to trust either. But I was locked up down here by then. Layo'ita came to my cell later, to tell me all about it and taunt me by reminding me that not only would no one ever be coming to save me, no one would even know I was gone.”

Melissande's eyes filled with tears as she thought about how hopeless that would feel.

Yasa reached out a manacled hand to wipe away the wetness from her cheek. “But that was my own fault, little one. I'd abandoned you and your mother, my other children and wives. You know, I never loved any of my wives the way I loved your mother. I married Layo’ita because it was my duty, I married Frishnia and Gayla because it was good politics. But I married your mother simply because I loved her so much. 

I respected my second and third wives as the mothers to my children and good women, and tried to make sure they were happy. And Layo'ita never seemed to care when I went to visit them and my other children. And I think it was because she knew that there was mutual respect between the three of us, but no deep love.”

He shook his head. “But as soon as I married Hera it was different. She was moody and jealous immediately. I tried to honor her as my first wife, tried to respect her and her position. But it was never enough. Until one day she demanded I stop visiting the Northern Castle altogether. It led to a tremendous fight and she wept bitterly, telling me I was being cruel and heartless and showing her no regard, to treat her so.”

He sighed deeply. “I felt horribly guilty. So, I said I'd stay away from all of you. I abandoned my children, abandoned my love, and for what? To appease the heart of a traitorous, vile witch. And a year later, I was down here.”

Yasa looked deeply into Melissande’s eyes. “Oh, my little silver-eyed princess, I'm so very grateful I've had the chance to unburden my heart to you, tell you my regrets for leaving you behind. Please forgive me. And please make sure your brother and sisters know I never should have left them either.”

Melissande took her father's hand. “I understand, Papa, and I do forgive you, of course. But I won't have to tell my siblings anything. You can tell them yourself. We're going to be rescued!”

She clasped her father's hand tightly between her own. “I swear to you, you're getting out of this disgusting place and we're going to feed you warm soups and wrap you in warm wool blankets and before you know it this place will be nothing but a memory.”

Sudden, high-pitched laughter broke through the air, making Melissande jump and gasp. The Queen's shrill, disembodied voice followed it. 

“Well, that’s partially true. You won't spend one more night in this place, my dear husband, I promise you that.”

Then just as before, without warning, there was the sound of a snap and suddenly both Melissande and Yasa were out of the dungeon and thrust into a brighter, but still windowless, round room.

Chains raised themselves from the wall and wrapped around Yasa’s wrists, pinning him against the stones.

Melissande felt herself being pushed along the floor as though a strong wind was at her back. She stumbled against a stone table and from out of nowhere, the First Queen appeared at her side, snapping her fingers again. Melissande found herself quickly strapped to the table, chains wrapping around her waist, and shackling her wrists and ankles to the table.

Queen Layo’ita smiled her dark, ghoulish smile. “One more sunrise for you both in just a few hours. And then, when the light is wholly eclipsed by the dark, I will be free to rise.”

Tag List

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[girlpanthera]

CW// SH, drug use, military/war, mental health

Deciding to expand on some lore for my little AU. (none of this is exactly time/ historically accurate) Anyways, this takes place in India during / around the war in Vietnam. The Beatles headed off to India, deciding to take a break while political conflict heated up around the world. They wanted time to brainstorm more music ideas and bond with each other. during their time in india, they experimented with hard drugs, and they all had almost normal reactions to it except for Paul. he seemed to be specifically affected by it, beginning to act erratically and showing self harming behaviors. he was very short tempered and instead of being bossy, his angered reactions would result in hitting others, or harming himself before devolving into hypersexuality. most of this was taken out on John, since they were closer, while ringo and George left john to manage this new mentally fragile paul at most times, keeping to themselves.

As war broke loose, The Beatles were all spared from the draft, except for John and paul. (in connection to how i won the war and Sargent Paul in magical mystery tour)

Paul, due to his extreme self harming habits, was dishonorably discharged from his sargent position only a few months into the war, as his habits tended to not only disgust the other platoon mates, but also cause risk of him getting infections and effected his overall performance during war time. He returned back to India, leaving John, causing even more tenseness in their relationship. John was focused on anti war propaganda and trying to find a way to protect the platoon mates while paul was self absorbed within himself, his own image, and what he wanted.

When Paul returned he spoke about what he saw in Vietnam at night, He talked about “cats of every color” who would stand on two feet and play trumpets, making the platoon loose sleep. He said these cats came from the knots of the trees and would play tricks on them, each kitten had fur the color of a primary color. he mentioned the odd happening about how one of his platoon mates had grown the lower half of a leopard and returned to the platoon shortly after he had lost his legs to a bouncing betty and had been left in the fields to die. he blamed the self inflicted scratches on his neck on that specific platoon mate, stating that he would carry him like a kitten by the scruff to the fox hole at night, the same hole where a french soldier from ww1 had been buried, but seemed to be only in the first stages of decomposition oddly enough despite how long ago he had died.

Ringo passed this off as the acid and trauma getting to paul’s head, but George was specifically intrigued by paul’s story about the women in Vietnam. about how they were all leopards. They were generously curvy and didn’t speak, but kept the soldiers nice and clean and offered them tea. he said these women existed in india, and the uk, and America, too. he said all women were secretly these patheras. he called them “the wild women”

Paul began wearing only womens underwear and button ups, he would take George to the fields to get high and he would talk about how “Paul was dead: and that “the original Paul flew out the windshield of a weaponry jeep earlier that year, the second week in India” and this Paul didn’t seem to be pleased with needing to act like someone he wasn’t.

Paul began getting much closer with George, even getting physical with him despite george’s hesitation and disgust at paul’s actions. George hated this new Paul, yet admired him deeply. his actions disgusted him but his charm and allure and stories made him stay wrapped around paul’s finger.

soon George even began getting gifts from these wild women. he would see the cats of every color, losing sleep at night to their trumpets, and he would check the feet of the soldiers that would knock on their door, just to assure they had no leopard feet. George began losing it as well, he gave into paul’s touches and rough sexual behavior, whereas ringo watched them slip out of it, spending most of his time trying to make them take meds and hide sharp objects from them. John was scheduled to come home within a week, as he had blown off his own foot. He needed escape from the war as well,and from what he wrote, the platoon thought so as well. they made excuses for him, and one member even took the blame for blowing off his damn foot.

THIS IS ALL I HAVE FOR NOW SOOOO. i’ll be making more art for it :P

@littlemiss-noname

[coffeefromvoid]

Late night rambling/Acting/Mercutio specific hot? Lukewarm? Take, i dunno I’ve only been acting for like three years

Basically a few weeks ago I came to the realisation that when you are acting it’s useful to know a character’s greatest fear. Of course you need to know more than that to make a character come alive on stage- who they are, their motivations, their personality or the bits of it that shine through in the script and their narrative purpose.

But I also find a characters greatest fear to be important too, especially for heightened emotional moments.

For example my three biggest roles so far,

1. Franz von Moor (in a summarised version of Shiller’s “die Räuber”)

2. Paolo (in a stage adaptation of Michael Ende’s novel “Momo”)

And last and certainly not least,

3. Mercutio (shortend and modified version of the german translation of Romeo and Juliet, by Shakespeare)

These three roles are very different from each other and all have different fears, which play into their portrayal on stage. None of the fears are out right stated, it’s just my interpretation, to better play the character.

But why is a characters fear important if you aren’t playing a scene where the character is specifically afraid?

Well, to me, my fears personally do affect how i carry myself. Some days more some days less, so having a characters fear in the back of your mind can be useful for when they are doing a monologue for example, or doing an important action, or just making them appear more human

For example, when i was playing Franz, his greatest fear to me, was being alone and having nothing left as he wasn’t the main hair, leading him to doing all of those horrible actions that result in him killing himself after asking god for forgiveness. Not an excuse for his shit behaviour but a helpful guide for his characterisation.

Or Paolo who was just a kid and wanted his parents to spend time with him and who was afraid of change and everything the gray men represent. After the time skip and the kids omission into the new strict school, he becomes hopeless, robotic and depressed. Because his greatest fear came true.

And finally Mercutio who’s, in my opinion, greatest fear is death. This only shines through in the text in two places, the infamous Queen Mab speech and his final monologue before he dies.

The Queen Mab speech starts of whimsical and fun as Mercutio describes Mab and her carriage and so on and so forth, but after a while it turns darker, when he starts talking about the dark dreams that are about war and subsequent, death, that she puts in soldiers heads. This is, to me, the point where the Queen Mab speech turns cynical and basically opposite of what it was at the beginning.

And the second moment where his primal fear of death shows is obviously his death-monologue. Mercutio has, not a facade but a heightened, more dramatic version of his personality he puts on as a mask, to hide this ‘silly’ fear of death. Why would a great man like him fear such a thing? Right? This mask starts to falter when he realises he’s fucking dying, for real. But in never truly drops, as he is still making jokes until his last breath, to try and distract himself of his fate or perhaps convince himself it isn’t happening at all, while clinging on to the person he made himself to be.

I’m not saying that Mercutio making a pun in his death-monologue is out of character, no, it just shows me, that he did not digest what had happened to him before it was too late. If that makes sense.

And of course you cannot forget his very memorable and dramatic anger at both houses in this speech. He doesn’t just blame one person or house for his unexpected demise but he blames both Tybalt and Romeo. This is him expressing this anger he had in him, not just at his death but at everything around him making him feel like he had to put up this heightened image of himself. He is basically speed running the five stages of grief for himself but died before he could get to acceptance.

Mercutio’s fear of death also explains his recklessness to me, he sneaks Romeo and Benvolio into the Capulet ball without even thinking of the consequences, insults the nurse with no after thought and challenges Tybalt to the dual without considering that Romeo might come between them because of his previous yapping about loving the Capulet name like his own, even though no one knew about his marriage to Juliet.

Mercutio basically lives every day like it would be his last but isn’t actually ready to die tomorrow.

Hope this long ass post was worth the read, i’ve been thinking ab Mercutio non stop and its one am rn and i should sleep but i can’t so boom character analysis plus minor acting advice, Also sorry if the grammar is garbage, its as stated one am, and english isn’t my first language.

[goldfishwithablowtorch-deactivat]

Who wants to see my box of rats? No one okay then.

Pattern: http://www.withlovefeli.com/2020/01/free-pattern-rat-for-chinese-new-year/

So I have to make something to sell at a market stall for a school assignment, and I decided on crochet rats and yeah. I only started a couple days ago so I only have these five so far but this is all im doing for the next three weeks individual pictures under the cut and detailed profiles because I decided to get even more emotionally attached to them before i sell them away forever.

Purple rat:

-She's called Indigo (yes I named them all)

- specifically for my friends little sister

- first rat I made (out of the ones for the stall anyway)

-kind of strangled him with yarn a lot while mapping out the colours for the rainbow rat

-the legs are a little too far forward which makes it hard for him to sit but its okay I still love him

Rainbow rat:

- Also finished off like two balls of yarn that I just had very little of left so that's great I guess

- Called August

- Non-binary rat because I said so

- Also for my friends other little sister

- Second rat I made and took me the longest because of the colour changes and me being lazy

Blue and purple rat:

- He's named Jeremy because I have another rat that me and my friends take turns with and make little clothes for called Jerry and he needs a friend

- He also just gives off Jeremy vibes to me

- Made of colour changing blue yarn that was given to me by my friend (same friend who's little sister the first two rats are for) that was wrapped around a book fir me to unwrap instead of wrapping paper

- But I couldn't find the end so had to cut it and then pull it off the book and it was the WORST knot I have ever seen literally took me a week to undo

Yellow and brown rat:

- She's called Cherry

- christened "Banana rat" by my friend (it does fit I guess)

- I just realised as I was taking the photo that her head tilts to the side a bit and is fatter on one side because before tou attach all the bits it's hard to tell which side exactly is the top and I accidentally turned her a bit

- probably either my favourite or second favourite so far

Green rat:

(Whoops I reached the image limit)

- He's called Avo

- Because he looks like an avocado

- I think the eyes are a little too close together and I added a few increases where I wasn't meant to, plus the drak green yarn is thinner than the light green but oh well we're selling to primary schoolers they won't notice.

- Didn't want to sit up so I had to balance him on my scissors

- I really like the colours for this guy they look really good

And those are my rats, if you scrolled this far then let me know if you want to see Jerry and his clothes, the solangelo rats I made once or the Keefe themed rat I will eventually make for my friend

[skylermadness]

Promotion Preparation (Harold "Happy" Hogan TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: January 26, 2024)

Original Description:

Guess I might have a new contender for most obscure TF mood and most random character to write a TF story on. So a few weeks ago I watched the second season of Marvel's What If series. Now, for a long time, I've already had Happy as a mood for myself. As a character he intrigued me in a sort of 'random side character' kind of way, which truthfully has been a frequent way I get interested in characters in general. Honestly the amount of times I fell in love with a supporting cast member while completely disregarding the main character is a lot. This is one of those cases, and watching that episode of What If accentuated that mood towards Happy in ways you cannot even believe. Plus he looks cute in a more animated format! Although he looks cute regardless so that's neither here nor there. I didn't really care for the whole Hulk Blood Injection/Freak segments of his day in the limelight episode, but that's just me being not a big Hulk (and adjacent) guy and nothing personal towards him. If you want something funny I actually haven't watched any of the Iron Man movies in literal years so my worldbuilding for this story is probably mostly inaccurate and screwed. Then there's the fact that this story is in a weird point in the MCU timeline that's likely midway through Phase 2 or so. I did try to make do with what I could remember, alongside with what the MCU Wiki could provide me. Although either way this was just a silly self-indulgent story to fulfill a TF mood that I just couldn't stop obsessing over for a bit. Fun fact: The cover for this story was going to use an image of Happy from the Iron Man films, but the image looked too generic that I felt it would come off as appearing too indistinguishable from being an image of Jon Favreau in a suit. Hence I had to change it to a picture of him from What If to avoid any potential weirdness.

   Daryl had considered himself someone that was inexperienced in his field of study. Especially as someone who was still working on his degree in cybersecurity and was only three years in. Despite that however, he had gotten an internship at Stark Industries roughly a few months ago. Something he wasn't even expecting to achieve since he assumed the level of entry for such a job would be high. Especially since the only branch of the company that was near his college was the central branch. But he’s been coasting along pretty well for the few months he's been working as an intern there.

   That's what he presumed anyway. Then he opened his work email this morning to find that he's been asked to a meeting with one of the CEOs of the industry. Specifically Tony Stark himself…

   That alone was enough to cause Daryl's stress levels to go off the rails. A meeting with a CEO was one thing, but the former industry head? In person? And that wasn't taking into account that the guy was Iron Man, an Avenger. It made his heart rate reach levels that he wasn't quite sure was possible for a human being. And that was a feeling that was maintained for much of the day.

   Now, within the building he's been working at for months, he stands outside the door of one of the rooms in the upper floors of the building. He had usually been delegated to the ground level floors but there seemed to be very little differentiation in how the hallways looked between floors. Consistency and all. Didn't make him any less petrified to knock, though. He just stood there eyeing the wood, terrified as to how this would all go down.

   Was he getting fired? Or worse, had he done something that compromised the company? Maybe he left a firewall open for too long and let someone into their network, or perhaps he accidentally mishandled a crucial file and sent it to someone he shouldn't have. Crap, now he's thinking about all the times he's emailed someone with his work email. What if someone who emailed him before had been posing as an employee and-

   “You do realize I can see you just standing there?” a familiar voice called from the intercom beside the door, startling Daryl out his internal spiral. “The door's unlocked.”

   Daryl stiffened a bit, his body already filling with embarrassment. He stood in silence for another few seconds before lifting up a hand and reaching towards the door’s knob before promptly twisting it. Then, with a gentle push, he opens the office door.

   The office itself seemed to be rather tame, if not rather large. It got plenty of natural light judging by the massive window that made up the room’s back. Seating areas of varying sizes and uses found to the left and right of the room. Meanwhile at the middle back of the office was the main desk for work. And sitting at that desk was Tony Stark himself.

   “Daryl Griffin, was it?” the man inquired.

   “Uh, yeah…” Daryl responded as he started to walk away from the door and towards the desk. Something about his stress combined with the room’s size just made the walkway itself feel longer than it actually was. What was only a few seconds of walking felt like whole minutes. Despite the weird feeling of time disparity though, he reached the desk and took a seat in the chair opposite to Stark’s.

   “Took the casual approach for this meeting, huh?” Tony commented.

   Daryl could feel his own soul shrivel at that remark. He didn't have much time to really switch out to something more formal seeing as this meeting was scheduled less than a half hour after his last class for the day. It resulted in him wearing a T-shirt beneath a fully unbuttoned flannel, alongside a pair of jeans and athletic shoes. “I-I didn't have the time to change really-”

   Stark’s face remained emotionless for a few seconds… and then he smiled. “I'm just messing with ya, kid. I'm just wearing a t-shirt right now!”

   Daryl just nodded, his stress only dissipating a little at the statement.

   “Hm, usually I get the fanboys,” Stark remarked at the silence. “Right to business then. I'm presuming you're wondering why you were called into this meeting?”

   “Y-yeah,” Daryl attempted not to make eye contact. “Look, if I sent anyone anything it was probably because of an email hijack I might not have caught-”

   Tony let out a low laugh. “Kid, this isn't a scolding, nor have we dealt with any email hijackers in a while. Truthfully you've seemed to have been doing well at your job despite this only being an internship position.”

   The praise continued to melt away Daryl’s stress. “What? I- I guess that's something considering I'm only a third year at my college. Although I'm taking it I'm here for more than just praise-”

   “Bingo. Considering how you are, I think it would benefit us both that your position is moved to something more permanent.”

   Daryl paused, gears in his head turning and he tried to comprehend what was just told to him. “I- wait, are you… promoting me to an official job here?”

   “Quite more than that actually…” Tony says with a smile. He slid a piece of paper, a contract, across the desk and to Daryl. “You'll be placed as Stark Industries’ new Head of Security.”

   And the stress levels we back up. “H-H-Head of Security!? That can't be right, I’m still in college!!!”

   “Well, it's moreso a gradual position. One that needs some level of prep work, but that'll all be talked about if you agree to the job.”

   Gradual? Prep work?? Daryl was left dumbfounded at the offer. Was his prowess really that good to warrant being the Head of Security for an entire industry!? Something about that just felt so… so… impossible, but…

   The young man couldn't hold himself back from reaching towards the nearest pen. “I'm assuming this is something that'll be in full effect once I get my degree…?”

   “You could say that,” Tony responded. It felt cryptic, like the man was hiding something.

   Daryl didn't dwell on it for too much though. It feels like this was the offer of a lifetime, and in a quite literal manner that he could have this job until retirement. Working with Stark Industries straight out of college… the paychecks he could get from such a high position like Head of Security… It was an offer that was too good to pass up.

   And so Daryl writes his name onto the contract, the young man not even taking a moment to read it through.

   “Didn't even think twice on that, huh?” Stark said with a smirk. He slid back the contract towards him with one hand, and with the other he seemed to slink off the desk and beneath it. “Preparations can be put underway then.”

   Daryl smiled. “May I ask what kind of preparations…? Will I still remain in this internship until I get my degree? Or uh, will I be put in contact with the previous head? Just curious how this will- augh!”

   His questioning is cut short as he feels something cold jab itself into the side of his neck. For a few seconds Daryl’s body seizes up, but he regains control as he quickly lifts up a hand to feel the spot. 

   Pushing his seat back a bit Daryl looked behind him and found a silvery robotic suit reminiscent of Stark’s various Iron Man suits. He knew for a fact that wasn't there before. Furthermore its left hand was in the process of unmorphing from something, and he could see the appearance of a needle or syringe-like object in the mass of shifting metals. “Uhhh, wh-what was that?”

   “Nanite injection,” Stark responded plainly. “Again, part of the preparations for your new position.”

   “I, uh…” a dizziness started to enter Daryl as he turned to look at Tony and speak again. “What preparations needs… that…”

   “Juuuuust give it a bit…” Stark said, idly watching.

   Daryl wanted to respond, but the dizzy spell was making it hard to focus in full. Instead he elected to investigate himself, removing his hand from his neck to see if there was any blood on it. He was quite surprised to find that only a small amount had bled onto his palm. Although that small drop of blood had a tangible mixture of deep red and a dimly glowing blue. And what was even weirder was that his hand seemed to be… different. Changing.

   At first it all seemed to be slight. Something that looked to be a trick of his oncoming daze. Each individual finger seemingly getting slightly longer, slightly thicker. That change in appearance was only getting more prominent in just seconds as their once thin size was replaced with an almost chunkier looking physicality. The same was also being applied to the rest of his hand with it getting stretched out to be larger and more in proportion with his new fingers. The same was applied with its thickness as well which, albeit wasn't the most significant in changes, was fairly noticeable whenever he inspected his hand from the size. 

   A much stranger change was following however. The softness of his hands was quickly appearing to alter, seemingly looking to be getting more aged almost. His palms growing harder and more callused, the back of his hands getting more noticeably weathered. There even seemed to be a few scars etching into his knuckles. 

   “Whuh…?” was the best response Daryl could come up with at the sight. The man also made sure to check his other hand, his brain taking a few moments to fully realize the transformation was happening there as well. His mind was already feeling so fogged up that it was hard to fully comprehend just everything. It practically felt like his brain was on the beginnings of being put on anesthetics.

   That wasn't fully the case though, and if it was he probably wouldn't be feeling a dense heat surging through his arm muscles. Daryl was a rather thin fellow, but it was rapidly getting more tangible that what was injected into him was changing his body type at the most basic level. His arms were swelling up slightly larger, a low musculature steadily layering onto them. It wasn't the most drastic of mass growths as his new muscles were looking to be more equipped for lower level combat than they would be for more strenuous strength-related ordeals. But that didn't stop his biceps and triceps from just barely outlining themselves in the short sleeves of his flannel, evidently proving that no matter what his new size was going to just barely going to be larger than his current one.

   Muscle wasn't the only thing forming however. A layer of softness was lightly layering over them as well. Small amounts of fat formulating and increasing the width of his arms even more. Furthermore on his skin it would seem the amount of arm hair he possessed was increasing as well. Not by an immense amount, but still just enough that it was slightly more visible than usual.

   The ill-fitting feeling of his sleeves persisted as his shoulder muscles developed a bit more. Pressure was forming in his bones as well, the remainder of his shirt already feeling weird on his form as he was in the process of getting wider. His form getting broader and a couple inches being added to him horizontally. All of which was quickly followed by a heat in his core, and a churning in his gut.

   The warmth that coursed through him was a byproduct of yet another deluge of muscle gain. The flatness of Daryl’s chest was quickly superseded and his upper body strength increased as his pectoral muscles grew in size. It still wasn't the most drastic of growths though as his pecs only gently dented into his shirt, but it was still enough to form just a bit of cleavage. Meanwhile at the lower half of his torso his abdominal muscles followed in a similar manner by rapidly rippling forward a little and hardening as well. Even then however his belly had a level of smoothness, his newly developed abs only slightly visible beneath in it.

   But the churning in his stomach remained. The younger man bent forward a bit, slinging a transformed arm around his abdomen and moaned. The haze in his mind didn't fully let him string together a sentence, so in the end all he could sputter out was, “What’re ya… doing to…”

   His belly rumbled, and then the second half of his bodily changes were enacted. Softness formed throughout the entirety of his torso, expanding itself across him and prompting a major gain in weight. His pecs got a bit thicker with a layer of fat, pushing forward even more as they rounded out more. The most prominent change came with his belly however. Fat accumulating at a rapid pace, his stomach swelling forward more and more with each passing second. Just getting larger, rounder, and slightly pushing the hem of his shirt up more and more. Although in the end the gain in size would only result in his shirt moving upwards to a few centimeters above his belly button, it was still a fairly significant growth regardless. Especially since it was followed up by a light tickling spreading across his torso. A sparse amount of hair ran up his midline until it would reach his chest, in which it would then spread into a light dusting of chest fuzz. A few hairs even looked to be graying.

   All Daryl could do was gently squeeze his gut in confusion. His ability to think straight was reaching a point where it was extremely difficult to pull off. He knew something was up but every time he tried to fathom it his train of thought just derailed. And if anything he also felt like he could feel his own mind was starting to get rearranged as well. As if bits and pieces of it were in the process of being removed or altered. But the ramifications of such a thing weren't tangible yet, or at least he thought they weren't. Even if it was seeming like the way his body was looking was getting increasingly familiar. Increasingly his own…?

   His mental haze had left him distracted from the increasing tightness within his pants. His legs were kick-starting their changes with muscle mass forming across them alongside some fat. Much like with his arms the increasing diameter of his legs wasn't the most drastic of bodily changes. His thicker thighs pushed up against the denim of his jeans quite a bit, and the same could be said with his calves that were in the process of swelling with fat. Despite it all though strength coursed through his muscles. A new increase in endurance that the man had not possessed prior to the transformation.

   Concurrent with his leg growth were also the changes happening in his feet. His shoes had quickly started feeling undersized as his feet began their expansion, extending forward while getting thicker and meatier. Pushing against the toecaps were his toes, now becoming chunkier than they had been before. As his heels pressed against the back of his sneakers a hardness formed across his soles as callouses manifested. All while specks of hair poked out from the bridge of his feet. His footwear still was managing to contain his larger appendages, but it was evident that there was still some level of struggling involved between their differing size.

   It was at this point that the changes were also properly reaching the uppermost quarter of the man’s body. His neck was already in the process of widening and he could feel a pressure coursing across his face. “I… a-ahhh…” he moaned out, the sound of his voice seeming to alter just a bit. Seemingly deepening just a smidge with the tone shifting alongside it. 

   “It honestly isn't the easiest thing to find people matching the proper qualifications for the job, especially since…” Stark started explaining just why he was doing this, but Daryl had evidently no ability to fully keep up with the man’s monologue. For a second the man could tune in and hear a statement about trust problems regarding confidential work or the fact that it'd be easier to create your own workers, but everything else fell onto the ears of a man whose mind was feeling like it was being restructured.

   The pressure around his face continued as his skull was in the process of restructuring. While it got larger to fit his new proportions it seemed to lengthen a bit vertically as well, his forehead seeming to get a little larger alongside the area around his chin. All the while his jawline was in the process of reshaping itself, the angling of the sides shifting as the deepest portion of his jaw rounded. It all had caused his head to gain an almost ellipsoidal shape. The slight roundness of it got more prevalent as a bit of submental fat descended a little beneath his chin.

   At the same time his facial features were changing. The shifts weren't the most drastic though: his nose getting a bit wider, rounder, bigger. Eyebrows quickly thinning out while reshaping to a more soft angled, almost S-shaped appearance. Meanwhile his eyes were getting a little bit smaller and his ears pulled back slightly. Fat accumulated around areas of his face, his cheeks in particular, while some slight levels  of aging and weathering started to appear at the edges of his eyes. One of the more prominent changes came with his chin developing some slight pronunciation, a noticeable lump now pushing forward. 

   The last major concurrent change came with his hair. His hairline was evidently receding a bit. There was a certain level of curling that was etching into each follicle on his scalp, all of them lengthening a little as they turned and curved. Although some level of methodical shifts happened in his hair, still remaining slightly short while combing itself back. This quickly resulted in the final appearance of his hair to be fairly well kept and slightly volumed, albeit with small portions sticking out at points.

   He continued to squeeze his stomach while his other hand raised to touch his face. He could only let out a single exhale as he felt his cheeks flush. By this point his brain just felt jumbled to say the least. Mainly in part because, while he couldn't fully comprehend it, the nanites in his system truly were rewriting how his brain operated. How his mind viewed… everything.

   Knowledge was being shuffled and replaced. The requirements for his old cybersecurity job seemingly switched out for decades of new information. Ones needed by a now ex-boxer, ones needed by a bodyguard, ones needed by a head of security for a major corporation. All the memories required for such things, his own past being restructured to fit an identity that was replacing his old one rapidly. For a second he stared at Stark, the man continuing to go off about something, and it caused another spiral of memories to unleash itself upon him as his perspective shifted to seeing the man as more than a boss. A friend.

   Gone were the perceptions of a simple internship, and gone were the youthful twenty-something years of memories. Instead it was reshuffled, rearranged, practically extended as his entire identity was altered beneath the transformative effects of the nanites. As far as he was aware he's been a part of Stark Industries for years. But even then so many blanks remained, so many years still missing. Things that the strange technology would have to deal with as this form remained like this longer. For the time being however, as the foreign feeling of it all faded, the haze started to lift as the new man steadily came to.

   The last major change came with the man’s clothing, the technology within him doing something to shift his attire to fit his form more. All of it was growing a bit to fit his heftier body shape. The hem of his undershirt slipped down and tucking itself into his pants while the sleeves of it extended over his arms until they went a little over his wrist. A plain white color extended across the undershirt as the material shifted into something a bit finer. A split ran down the middle of the shirt as well, buttons manifesting out the material (and already fastened as well). The neckline extended upwards as well points folding out as the shirt became collared, its appearance now exactly that of a dress shirt.

   The patterning on his flannel faded as blotches of black formed across it. The material shifted as well, the softness also becoming more fine and pressed. Multiple buttons were consumed by the changing material while others were changed, repositioned, and gotten a little larger. Especially the ones at the lower half, which had now made its way towards fastening itself around his stomach. The sleeves lengthened to match that of his undershirt, and the hem of the morphing clothing lengthened vertically as well. Some more shifts and folds occured as well with the collar lengthening a bit while a lapel folded out from the split. By this point the flannel had fully become a suit jacket instead.

   The last bits of clothing changes were fairly standard as well. The rough denim of his jeans smoothing over, material shifting to one like that of his suit jacket. That being finely tailored and a deep black coloration to make them more like suit pants. A black leather belt also snaked around his waist with the silver buckle fastening once it was comfortably around him. His shoes were in the process of shifting as well, the urban feel of the sneakers being smoothed out as the cloth became a clean black leather. It all resulted in a formal feel to imprint into his footwear to change them into dress shoes. 

   With all of that done the very last pieces of his attire came with a tie. The object materialized beneath his shirt’s collar and elegantly tied itself around his neck before drifting down and tucking the rest of itself under his jacket. Although it ended up feeling a bit tight around his neck, the man being prompted to lower the hand touching his face in order to properly readjust it. That in itself was a sign he had come to to some degree, the words of Tony Stark’s rambling properly entering his ears.

   “...then again it's not exactly cheap to manufacture these-”

   “I-I'm sorry,” he interrupted, the man still trying to readjust his tie. “I think I blanked about ten minutes ago and didn't even hear any of that.”

   Tony raised a brow, although a slight smirk had seemed to form on his face. “Fine, fine. Happy, what's the last thing you remember?”

   That nickname ignited something within him, within Happy. A brown coloration overtook his irises as he started to respond. “Er- walking in here, I think…” he unhanded his tie and started to raise one up to his neck. “And a pain in my neck.”

   “So nothing!” Tony said, faining exasperation. “You know, while I like to hear myself talk I don't necessarily enjoy having to re-explain ten minutes of work info.”

   “Again, apologies. Truthfully it feels like I've blacked out most of the day anyway. I don't even remember waking up this morning.”

   A momentary silence occurred as Tony seemingly was thinking of something to say in response. “Well they did say you may have some memory lapses ever since you had to start taking those nanite shots after that accident…”

   “What do you…?” Happy raised a brow. He couldn't recall anything about that…

   “See, this is why it's important to have others around you-” Stark got up and went to the other side of the table. He placed a hand on Happy’s shoulder and playfully shook him. “-to help you remember important information like this!”

   “Tony, please.”

   “It's nothing to worry about, bud,” Tony reassured. “We can go on an in-depth discussion on it after work.”

   Happy seemed unconvinced, but let it go. His mind felt way too groggy to deal with much right now. 

   “Fine, fine,” he sat back in his chair. “Let's just get this meeting over with then.”

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

why are the conspiracy theorists all on your blog lmaooo. anyways, i wanted to ask you if you have been writing fanfiction/original work lately. no pressure though.

Girl I WISH I knew………….

I actually started writing again pretty soon after my last upload!

(I posted a new fic a few weeks ago, you probably saw that though lol, but it is kinda still my baby, so I don't mind plugging it again. Like… I feel like so many of my feelings on Beatles history and John and Paul's relationship specifically are weaved into its very fabric)

Anyways, I've actually started working on two sort of "expanded universe" stories set in the world of the last fic. I'm not 100% sure if they'll actually get finished, though, it's a bit low commitment right now.

I'm also working on my beloved "John and Stu both live (and are now a couple) and they are spending the day with Paul after Linda dies" story. It's a mostly plot-light one-shot. They play Monopoly lol.

Here's a preview of what I got that I think captures the vibe well:

Neither of them were particularly quick when it came to taking off their shoes; John had to mind his back these days (Paul looked away, not wanting to think about frailty too much); meanwhile, Stu’s motions had always been relaxed and graceful. Even as a kid, Paul had found it irritating to watch the lad over-carefully unfolding his sunglasses and slipping them on.

“Tea?” Paul offered, jiggling his leg.

Both men turned their heads up towards him.

“Yeah, give me a sec,” John said, before slowly rising to his feet with a quiet, pained groan. “Let me take care of it.”

Linda would have put on the kettle by now already. Paul swallowed.

“No.”

John frowned, glancing over at Stu, who had felt the need to place his shoes on the rack instead of just leaving them on the floor. “Why not?”

Because I don’t want to feel like you came here to pity me.

“I’m the host. Would be rude.” And with that, Paul turned around and marched into the kitchen.

He felt a hand reach for his arm. “C’mon, Paul. Don’t get stubborn now.”

Paul tensed his shoulders, not turning around as he made his way to the stove – Linda’s stove. “It’s not bein’ stubborn – just manners.” His hand was now resting on the knob, for some reason refraining from turning on the gas.

“Paul…” John had gentled his tone in a way that emphasized the creakiness in his voice that Paul had recently begun noticing and it made his skin crawl.

Determined not to look at his mate, Paul stared straight ahead, his eyes once again stinging with tears.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake…” Stu, who’d apparently followed them into the kitchen, grabbed the kettle from the counter, filled it at the sink, placed it on a burner on the other side of the stove, and then finally flicked on the gas. 

Paul shot him a death glare.

What the fuck do you think you’re doin’? he wanted to shout – Stu was John’s plus-one, after all, not a real guest – but before he could get the words out, Paul was promptly seized by an overwhelming sense of déjà-vu:

The three of them in his kitchen (though not this kitchen), and Stu making himself all too comfortable in a way that for some reason drove Paul up the wall; “You’re here to practice, not rummage through me cupboards, Stu,” even though John had been doing just the same.

No, not déjà-vu, Paul realized, staring down at the blue flame under the kettle. That really happened – decades prior, in Liverpool, when they had all still been boys, slicking their hair back and passing around stale cigarettes just to save on cash.

All at once delighted by the image, Paul threw his head back laughing.

[thesingingrevolution]

i went on a cruise a few weeks ago and before i went i checked if they had a chapel on board so i could make plans to go to church before/after if not and this cruise had no chapel but the image of it on the website was in my head at that point and a few days later or whatever i have a dream that im in this chapel on this cruise with my friends and this one very specific priest i love and am friends with was the one celebrating but i didnt think much of it because its just a dream and im just placing my previous experiences in this new location. and then today i meet up with this priest and we’re catching up and he asks me where im going for Christmas and i tell him florida and then i ask him because our families both live in florida and he says hes going to texas but then he elaborates and says before he started going to there for Christmas he used to serve on a cruise ship?! and i was so gagged like i didnt say i literally saw that in a vision but i did tell him i looked into cruise chapels earlier and that it was so cool of him to do that but i was just shocked because i literally saw that in my head but i didnt know it was real and true?

[kristsune]

So I had this idea a while ago, to do little reviews for all of Tim Meredith’s songs because I feel like there isn’t enough love out there for them. So last week I decided to just Do It. I finished (including the two new songs he just dropped yesterday) I have it here under a readmore, or if you would prefer, you can just read the gdoc here, I only did the songs that were listed on his bandcamp (which you should absolutely go to) even though there are a few extra early ones on his youtube.  These were written in no particular order, basically whichever song I happened to click on next. Anyway, feel free to read and spread the word.

How to even describe Tim Meredith’s music. The way he can adapt to different styles and genres is honestly impressive. It’s probably got something to do with the improv background but it’s amazing how he can just … choose a style and write an incredible song for it. Everytime he drops a new song I am always impressed with what he has managed yet again. 

Disclaimer: I don’t have any musical education except being friends with multiple musicians for many years in which only small amounts of information have managed to seep into my adhd addled brain. So I apologize for the lack of musically correct terminology, this is a work of appreciation, not technical prowess. Also lyrics are generally the last thing I hear, so I may mention them here and there, but they aren’t my main focus for this.

Always Here 

I can’t quite express what it is about this song that I adore, but it absolutely has something to do with the deep rumble of the bass and the way it drives the song forward relentlessly. The effect on the vocals only adds to this. The fact that it goes minor definitely caters to my tastes specifically. The high tones that come in during the bridge have such a Bowie quality that is delightful and a perfect contrast to the rest of the song. (artwork: the mossy greenery adds such a vibe to the song)

Don’t Look to Me

This has been one of my favorites since it aired. The high vocals of the chorus, with the overlapping harmonies are beautifully done and how they are placed over each other makes me think of something being sung in a large hall or church, big and echoey. Additionally the offset of the lyrics “it’s what you chose” (and to a lesser degree “any other way”) makes it feel like you’re being surrounded, like its multiple people telling you this is what you chose, what you wanted. I adore how the vocals trail out with the music at the end. (artwork: the hot pink neon feels so right for the feeling, the tiles adding to the echo)

Sweaty (Near You)

I know this one was controversial at the release, but I honestly could not then, and still cannot understand why. People are honestly sleeping on this song and it makes no sense to me. It’s got a very sensual vibe without gendered lyrics. Sure “baby” is used, but if you don’t think baby could be used for any gender then that’s on you, not the song. The deep base with the sparse instrumentation with a fun noodly solo is just an excellent combination that works so incredibly well. (artwork: the b&w photo with dark maroon text is a perfect combination)

Lucky Boy

When this song premiered my first thought was the entrance song for a villain in a movie. I could see it so clearly in my head. It’s got drive, and movement, and attitude the way it kicks up into high gear into the chorus from the verse with that fuzz guitar. The incredible layers with all the different synth/organ sounds, paints such an image. Nevermind the vocals that fit so perfectly within all that. (artwork: The maneki-neko is such a perfect choice for this)

Numbers and Lights

This is another one I have difficulty describing quite what it is that I love about it. It’s rather lowkey all the way through and I rather enjoy the… almost the stops and starts, the way it gives pause before kicking back in, like the song needs to take a breath before moving on. Again, pretty sure this one turns minor in a way that caters directly to me. Small detail that really delights me is what sounds like the equivalent to crickets under the “Reid asks Reid tells”. (artwork: gotta love biflag color rep. always a plus)

Limb Controller

This song features Amy and was an early favorite of mine. It feels like a song that could and should be played at a disco, just making me want to dance. The synths are perfect and I love how they gain intensity in the bridge before coming back down for the verse. The contrast between Amy’s higher vocals to Tim’s rougher growly ones is a perfect combination. I’ve always loved the “I’ve already let him in, a puppet on his string” moment. (artwork: when videos were still being made, love the scifi vibes)

Never Loved

Another song that is a bit more lowkey, but still comes through with excellent vibes. This one is really all about the syncopation especially with the drums. Which includes the panning back and forth during certain portions, but especially during the time change. I also really love the effects on the vocals. The occasional splashes of a high stringed instrument, and the crash of a forward cymbal really just add to the atmosphere of the song. (arwork: something about being called never loved with what looks like kintsugi just kinda Hits)

Love Your Mind

The repeating pattern throughout this song is just So Good, I love everything about it, and then how other patterns build on top of it? Impeccable. There are so many layers but it's never too much or loses track of itself, never feels over complicated or discordant. I always end up tapping along to the pattern, sometimes difficult to choose which one to follow. This song is shorter, but never fails to make me smile. (artwork: love the chandelier with the many intricate patterns, feels like it matches the song perfectly in that way)

On Your Terms

Oh that bass line. *chef kiss* Absolutely the backbone of the song, helps create the perfect atmosphere for that distorted guitar. Tim always puts a lot into the vocals, but here it feels like there is a extra level of emotion that feels raw. The way the note is held for “on your terms” just kind of kicks me in the chest every time. (artwork: love that the fire is the only color)

Some Thoughts After Consideration

This song truly resonates with me on a molecular level. I have been working in retail for going on 18 years and I just feel this song in the depths of my soul. Something about the wobbly synths and strong beat with the soft vocals are just perfect. The transition to what almost feels like a … big musical number in a theatrical show for the chorus. Like I can just see big spot lights turning on the stage. Perfection. (artwork: can’t go wrong with a squawking seagull, theme on point)

Falling Away

This is another one of my favorites. It’s so soft and gentle, lilting piano blending so perfectly with the vocals, which build up in intensity for the chorus so beautifully. Again, I think this one turns minor key, though I’m not as sure about it as I am with the others. I don’t have a lot of words for this one, but it’s lovely in its simplicity. (artwork: always loved this one for no reason I can really define)

Regret Me Not

I love how this song starts off sounding like something like a medieval march. The most prominent thing about this song is of course those incredible harmonies all throughout. The whole initial build up, and how it switches halfway through is just incredible. There is so much depth in this short song. I don’t always pay attention to lyrics, but when I did look at them I was surprised and delighted by how uplifting they are. (artwork: another older one with a video. I am a sucker for nature anything, and this just being a series of nature shots particularly appealed to me)

Pacesetter

The deep rumbly bass paired with the panning distorted vocals is just an incredible driving force. This song has the kind of beat that will just go on forever. If it were a predator it would be a komodo dragon just relentlessly following behind, never losing sight, always there stalking forward. (artwork: the starting line for a racetrack is an excellent choice)

The Aftermath

This was another early favorite of mine. The mandolin is the star of this song, but it is surrounded by a wonderful arrangement that allows it to be so. The gentle piano with the soft vocals, the shakers and woodblocks all come together beautifully. I always adored the extended pause about ⅔ of the way through. (artwork: this is my favorite video, and I’m sure it took a lot of work to match all the timing so well. The way it ends with the snuffing of the candle 10/10 no notes)

Arcadia

The light bouncy acoustic guitar is so catchy paired with the light and airy vocals, just makes for a lovely song all around. Truly impressive that so much can be expressed with so few instruments. I always find myself nodding my head along to this one. (artwork: makes me think of marshmallow and then want something sweet, but then I remember it’s a rock face and then that makes me want to climb it. Too bad it wasn’t a marshmallow clifface)

Deep Air

This is one of those songs that I love because it’s so out of the usual wheelhouse. It’s chill and wonderfully lowkey, and truly does make you feel like you are just floating around in space. The NASA audio certainly only adds to that vibe. Even with all that I do really love how it still slowly builds towards a big end. (artwork: excellent space vibes, love it)

A Horrid Angry Goose

I remember the goose game stream quite fondly, and this song in response to that was an absolute delight. It’s a fun and funny song, but it also has genuinely fantastic harmonies, and a strong baseline. The build up in each verse into the chorus is just so good. I love how it tells the story of the game, but in such a delightful way. This song is a guaranteed mood boost and I’m so glad for it. (artwork: Goosey perfection)

What It Says About Me

Adore the intro to this, the panning on the string instrument is perfect, and then when the beat drops and everything just drives on. Again, the way the vocals harmonize is impeccable. Truly impressive. Also adore the almost call and response at about halfway through. (artwork: something about the rusted half visible ship feels sad, though I suppose it’s apt for the song)

Unremarkable Sin

The alternating rhythms for this are just so incredibly good, the way it starts and the way it changes when the drums kick in, giving it a bit of swing that is just really great. I really love the gentle vocals for this as well, they fit between the instrumentation so perfectly. (artwork: i love the vague religious vibes, which somehow also translate into the music but in a not actually religious way)

What’s Due

Another one that just kicks ass right out the gate. The rising synths just gives this song such energy. The layered and overlapping synths and rhythms makes it feel like it’d fit right in at a bar or a scene in a movie (bar scene in a movie?) Again the pause about ⅔ the way through adds such drama and it’s absolutely perfect. The processing on the vocals is fantastic and the delivery only adds to the overall attitude of the song. (artwork: bull terriers are one of my favorite puppies and this one is SO cute, bonus points for bi pride colors)

Breaking

The bass line with the panning distorted guitar is such a good combination. That plus the processing on the vocals, creates such a spacious atmosphere that feels melancholy (Though I suppose the lyrics probably add to that feelings). (artwork: love a good seascape, big fan of corals and anemones, and adds to the vibe of having already “fallen”)

An Imagined Sense

Another song that just makes me want to dance, The way this one goes from just a decent beat to kicking into high gear is so good. Again with the excellent doubled vocals/extreme delay just creating such a great balance with the synths. (artwork: the video for this is extremely hypnotizing and feels like you’re being sucked into the song, which feel right)

Walk Away

The really distorted bass paired with the really light piano synth and gentle cymbals is just a really excellent combination. I really love the repetition for the chorus, plus of course the lovely harmonies make for a really lovely chill song. (artwork: Always been a fan of viewing through an opening, but the broken down interior out into the green outdoors is very pleasing.)

Exquisitely Bad

The groove that is set as soon as the song starts is just impeccable. And that groove just doesn’t stop. I love the contrast of that deeper bass with the higher synths that alternate between ears. Something about how the vocals jump up during with the chord progression is delightful. Really just a killer song. (artwork: love the dilapidated house with green font, fit right in with the Halloween premiere)

Horny for Greece

I know this started as a song from stream, but it is genuinely a fantastic song. That funky piano that gives Stevie Wonder Vibes, the niche but perfect rhymes with excellent vocals, the syncopated drums. All just add up to great vibes. (artwork: having the title cut diagonal over the broken section of sculpture is perfection)

The Eventual

Always a sucker for a song with handclaps. Mixed with the woodwind and the harmonica creates such an interesting atmosphere. There is something about the double beat on the drums that I really enjoy. I also love the strong distortion on the vocals, really pulls the room together. (artwork: took me ages to realize the picture was flipped upside down, that being said, it’s still very visually interesting)

Wretched

The slow build with the offset synths that make almost a round, the drums start and stopping before they fade and the beat truly starts is just so good. It creates such tension. I love how the synths create almost waves throughout the song, pulling it along. I also adore the effects on the vocals, just fits so perfectly with the soundscape of the rest of the song. (artwork: it took me a little bit to realize what I had been looking at, but the textures are so good. Fits with the vibes)

More Time

The hard fuzz guitar is such a strong start for this song, paired with the very rock drums is just perfect. Just has excellent classic rock vibes. I really love the depth of emotion felt in the vocals, and the low doubled vocal is a perfect extra layer you sometimes don’t even realize is there adding to it. (artwork: not sure how or why, but the fire seems to just fit perfectly for this)

Can’t Happen Here

I absolutely love the piano intro for this, it really sets the whole mood. I absolutely love the vocals for this song. The almost call and response, the harmonies, just *chef kiss* fantastic. I also really love the fuzz guitar when it kicks in. Ramps the song to a whole other level. (artwork: love the roiling clouds for this one. Yet again, fits the mood perfectly.)

Kennecott

I desperately love the percussion in this song, both the unusual patterns and the sounds used. It creates such a cool landscape for the song. And the interest doesn’t end there. The part where the sound pans quickly from left to right with the rhythm is just so incredibly good. This song is just an experience from start to finish. (artwork: I never quite figured out what this one was, an aerial shot? of the beach? My brain always just made it out to be an abstract painting but I am currently realizing that is incorrect. Still fits the vibe though, feels scattershot like the song.)

On Notice

(sidenote: I have barely listened to this one, because I tend to listen to my youtube playlist, and I found while making this that this song is only on bandcamp, so I haven’t listened to this one nearly as much as most of the others despite it being released about a year ago)

The sheer amount of Radiohead Vibes for this is absolutely incredible, and as someone who absolutely adores Radiohead, I love it. I love how the vocals come in and out, I love the almost droning instruments in the background. Additionally, on the delay on the vocals is fantastic, and I love the pause like ⅔ the way through. Excellent. (artwork: Love the b&w, looks like black marble. Great look.)

Better from Further Away

I love the simple clean (upright?) bass in the opening, with the soft drums. Again, I am a sucker for harmonies and I love them on the chorus. The juxtaposition of the very chill relaxed song, to the somewhat ridiculous (read: amazing) lyrics is very good. (artwork: Love this video, especially the close up zoom on the sheep when they are mentioned.)

Friend of Mine

I love how gentle and soft this whole song is. The piano and soft drums working so well together with the gentle lyrics. I really love it when the piano kind of goes into double time. (artwork: Love a good red sunset. Excellent.)

In The Dark

I love how this starts out with what feels like very 80’s movie synths, and then just shifts into a very chill song. Not sure why but it does give very 80’s Jim Henson vibes. Like I feel this should be in the Dark Crystal or Labyrinth or something. Maybe it’s the lovely harmonies that I can see being sung by small fuzzy puppets. Also I absolutely adore the horns throughout. Perfect 10/10. (artwork: I think 3 puppets should in fact pop out of the three holes to sing those harmonies.)

Now We’ll Never Know

This song is so very pretty. The simple bass and ringing guitar along with the gentle vocals. Yet again, the harmonies on the “oohs” are beautiful and I love them, especially paired with that gently picked guitar. (artwork: love a good dilapidated staircase. The green lettering is a perfect match.)

[the-lunar-library]

Cover Design: Have I Figured This Out Yet?

Today let's talk about the cover for my third book, To the Ravens. When talking about the earlier books' cover designs, I made a big deal about how it took actual years and years of trial and error.

To the Ravens did not take actual years and years to figure out how it wanted to look. It was eager to get going. The first cover design I drew for it was the final product.

But I did toss some ideas around before actually drawing it. Like this one.

This very rough cover dates back to January 2019, four years before I actually started writing, only a few months after I'd first begun playing around with ideas for the novel. And before you ask --

She's Akantha. For a long time, Akantha was named Kassiane.

I think the art is by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. It looks like his work, or one of his ilk.

No, I wasn't planning on publishing under Rayless Night. At that point, my first book was still only on its second or third draft and I was debating what name to write under. Rayless Night was just a placeholder.

This wasn't even a serious attempt at a cover. It's very simple, not very exciting, not very specific. As for the title, I didn't shuffle through too many -- I think To the Ravens was the first thing I settled on. (Again, a much easier process than the other two books.) I will say though that the female figure does nail Akantha's anger. She might be about to snap that pansy in two.

This image was more for me to have something to look at and think about in the early days of turning story ideas over. But when it came down to writing and actually facing the reality of publishing this thing, my mind settled on a much more unique and dynamic cover.

Not the cover I ended up going with though.

This was my original idea (a rough version), Akantha gazing up at a cloud spider. There are two scenes with cloud spiders in the novel, and this is supposed to reference the first one.

My inspiration was Greek red figure pottery. And there's a lot I like about this concept. It immediately conveys the Greek-ness of the novel's culture. It shows that the heroine's winged, something I really wanted. And it hints at danger. I kept this concept in my head for a lot of the writing process, but didn't yet commit it to paper. In fact, I didn't end up drawing it until a few weeks ago so I could illustrate this post.

I think it wouldn't have been a bad cover, but the red figure style has a stiffness to it that I started to dislike. I also didn't want so much flat black on the cover. I started to play with the idea of a blue or blue-green background, to contrast the orange and because blue-green has some significance late in the story. The spider and web (I sourced the web from Pixabay) are also kind of unwieldy -- the spider had to be comically shrunk down even to be included. The thing's downright cute at this size, and maybe now has completely the wrong vibe.

Then my dad had an idea for the cover.

Akantha with her wings dramatically raised, cast in shadow before the Earth (also sourced from Pixabay), with her eyes eerily glowing gold. This is a rough approximation, but you can see it's not a bad idea -- it's attention-getting. But I also feel the mood is wrong. It feels more like a comic-book cover.

But maybe it did influence me, because when I got around to drawing the cover, it featured both a red-figure Akantha and a heavenly body:

I'm really happy with this one. I'm not sure the red figure connotation is really there anymore -- I don't know if people look at this and think, "Ah, yes, Greece!" or more just "Ah, an orange demon!" (She is not a demon.) But the color contrast is really pretty, and now Akantha has none of that stiffness. Her wings are visible, and there's the Moon, so you get a hint that there's something alien and different about the story. (My logical father, however, points out that it should still be the Earth in the background, not the Moon, because Akantha lives on the Moon.)

I decided to go with complementary art of Alexandros on the back, with him in gold rather than red/orange.

I really liked the idea of incorporating Harmony the snake, having her link them together.

So that was my much simpler, much easier process. I think this cover's come out the best, particularly in physical copies.

What do you think? Should I have kept the spider?

[mixedmindhypnosis]

Hypnosis: Possibilities

What are Possibilities?

Possibilities are all things one can do or achieve.

Example 1

Horniness and arousal are not necessarily the same thing. While being horny is mostly a mental state, arousal is a state of your body. Knowing this I once attempted to separate those two as it's only natural that you are sometimes horny without being aroused or aroused without being horny.

A while ago I found myself suggesting this to a play partner, I asked them if they would want to try that and they responded: "I don't know if that works, but okay."

So, I guided them in trance and gave them a trigger that would only make their body aroused, craving touch and stimulation while their mind stayed completely clear of anything sexual.

The result was fascinating, and I was completely stunned and amazed of it.

Discussion

The answer to the question what you can and can't do with hypnosis is a difficult one. Except for the obvious answer that you can't break the laws of physics it's tricky to draw a clear line.

Another response often is "whatever a subject is able to imagine". While this has some truth to it it's not the full answer. While it is very much dependant on how well a subject can imagine or conjure whatever is described to them, it's also dependant on the hypnotist.

As a hypnotist you can make it easier for a subject conjure an image or response. You can assist by using language that resonates with the subject, you can help by speaking in the pace that it is easiest for your subject to follow, give you’re subject a heads-up on what you are planning on doing (especially when you don’t know each other very well).

As a subject you can train your ability to imagine things or to conjure feelings inside of you. In this regard the brain is a muscle and while it can be difficult to learn things, with enough perseverance you can improve the ability to imagine things. Things that might help there could be drawing, acting or any other activity that engages your imagination and creativity.

Let's be a bit more specific about what things could be possible with hypnosis. As there are an unimaginable number of things that one could do with hypnosis. Trying to write down every little and big thing you can do with hypnosis is an endless task, instead look at specific parts of hypnosis play and give some ideas what playing could be, and hopefully help you get some ideas of your own.

Sensory Play

Sensory play can be anything from making your subject feeling a soft caress or touch, to feeling them being hit, flogged, whipped, to having them feel the pain of being cut or even feel their arm being ripped off.

Sensory play can be combined and part of a scene with sensual play without any actual equipment, an intense impact scene, to an enhanced roleplay interrogation scene or primal play.

Pleasure Play

Pleasure play can be anything that involves any kind of pleasure weather it is sexual, mental or otherwise. When playing with it you can increase or decrease the pleasure that is felt, you could make an object transfer or create or take pleasure away.

When playing with pleasure you can do anything from creating it, taking it away, to heightening and reducing it.

Mental Alterations / Mental Play

There are countless ways in which you can change how someone acts, reacts, or perceives anything.

Some examples are making someone more sensitive to any or a certain kind of touch, making someone feel dumber, more giggly, dizzy, drunk, ....

But it could also mean making someone unable to count, think it’s normal to strip in front of people when you meet them, not know how to put on clothes, ...

Example 2

A few weeks ago, I went to a play party with my partner. I had some amazing plans and a very intense scene in mind I wanted to do. In preparation I gave them the suggestion that every time they would look into my eyes, they would find themselves captivated while an urge and want for something they don't know would grow inside them.

It was very interesting and fun to see how confused and bewildered they were when they woke up or have been woken up from that daze after having themselves lost in my eye’s mid conversation.

Personality Play

Personality play deals with more intense ways of mental alteration for the benefit of the play.

This includes things like having them act and feel slightly different than usual to having them portray someone or something different during play.

Forms of personality play could be making someone a sex doll, a drone, a perfect french maid, a servant or could also be used to make pet play even more immersive, ....

Hypnotic Bondage

Someone being unable to move after the mention of a simple word can be a very fun thing to play with. This can range from them not being able to walk away, to not move certain body parts or being completely petrified an immobilized.

These are just some examples of things you can do with hypnosis. There are also some things you just can't do because they are either not legal or not possible, this is when you might find the concept of dream journeys interesting, just make sure, that you ensure that there’s a way for the subject to signal that they need to get out of trance. Dream journeys can be very immersive and intense, so it's never wrong to give some safety suggestions and to check-in from time to time.

I encourage you to talk with your trance partner(s) about what you would find interesting to try and if they have a fantasy that they have not yet been able to live out. You might also find this hypnosis kink list helpful.

You can find an overview of the post series here.

Also feel free to follow me on FetLife for more kinky content.

[vohtaro]

3, 8, 19, 21 for the ask game :-]

weirdly specific artist ask game !

(answers got long oops)

3. What ideas come from when you were little

in general, i don't know that i really use ideas from when i was little. but i do have one example that comes to mind: i remember when i was innnnnnn 3rd grade? i drew a tiger for some assignment. it was a tiger drinking from a lake, and i remember being so proud of myself for how i had drawn it. i mean, really, i'd basically stared at a reference and copied it. it wasn't divine ingenuity or anything KDJGHSK. but, it really made me love tigers. for some reason, drawing that tiger made me so appreciative of the animal and i became rather obsessed w them for a while. i genuinely wish i still had that drawing somewhere. i'd love to just how wonk that tiger i drew really was LMAO

the reason i bring that up is that this past year was the year of the tiger, and to celebrate tigers, i drew this . the idea was very fun for me and reminded me of a long-ago dream of mine which was to become some kind of animal caretaker.

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in

-glances nervously at my wip graveyard-

there are a couple stand-out ones in my head. there's a comic idea i've had since february (oh almost a year ago 🚶‍♂️) about the specific moments in which madara changed from the moment of izuna's death to the point he decides to investigate the tablet. it's born from the "you've changed" dialogue from VotE bc madara says it towards hashirama but i was thinking about how madara had changed too and particular/episodic moments that caused a shift in him. the idea exploded from maybe 3-4 pages to like 17 and i have never made a long-form comic before, so i got overwhelmed the more time went by. there are so many pieces i like but my utter inexperience has essentially killed the project for now. i'd like to come back to it one day, but it may be a long time from now. to say i've lost interest in it isn't quite true, but i haven't been pursuing it because i often open what i have and get frustrated and stop LMAO

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

c-can i say none KDSJHGJKS

i think it's obv that i'm very comfortable drawing figures… perhaps a little too comfortable. this is a feeling i've honestly been wrestling with the past few weeks. i do genuinely wish i liked drawing nature especially. i feel like i could really enjoy that, but i haven't given myself the opportunity to explore that, and every time i think about doing it, my discomfort becomes painfully clear to me to the point i scrub any evidence of it from things i do finish.

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways

yoshitaka amano is an artist i really enjoy. i found him through a friend on twt and have enjoyed exploring what to me is such a vastly different approach artistic expression. his devaloka series is particularly fascinating to me and has inspired some personal work.

example from devaloka series (more can be found here)

yayoi kusama is a traditional artist who really just has an insanely diverse portfolio. there is a great documentary called "yayoi kusama: infinity" which not only explores her life but also the concept of infinity through her artistic vision. (the documentary has some heavy subject matter, so please be advised)

i am personally fond of her infinity nets (image from this article)

[actionfigurebullshit]

Cadet Worf Found Elsewhere; Greta and Herman Still At Large

When did I see that action figure last? The last time a picture of Greta was on this website was almost three years ago. One year ago, I was considering some AFB elements to be used in another video, and this may very well have been the last time that action figure was in my sights, but still...

If nothing else fails, there is a second Cadet Howard action figure. I got it with... I believe... my Galoob Data. It looks a little dingy, though I'd just say she had a tan from sticking her head in the warp core (in-joke). I also have a second Generations Data, though I would prefer to keep that action figure as is, since he was part of a lot consisting of all the 4.5 inch Generations action figures. I think if I had to go that far to replace Herman, Herman wouldn't be a Data action figure.

I don't remember actually doing anything with the Greta action figure last year. I was just going to reuse some of her dialogue, though she is presumed to be there, in those scenes but sight unseen.

Every so often, I'll go on these hunts for something that's missing and it can be distressing and harmful to the tidiness of the house, but might also make for good exercise, I dunno. It can also be an odd trip through time, as sometimes, you dig into boxes that are very era specific. I wrote about that a little in the last few entries.

Did I ever tell the tale of-- not really a story, actually. I have good luck with online orders, and this was one of the quite rare moments where something just didn't show up. One of those somethings- and I can only remember four times in almost twenty years where something simply didn't show up- was the first Greta action figure I ordered. The updates suggested it was picked up at the post office, or was it that the label was created? I wonder if I still have the e-mail?

1 sec...

I do. I was looking for the tracking number. I have it! No, I'm actually- I mean, I do, but I wrote that it was picked up. Nope. The label was made, and then nothing happened. After 3 weeks, I contacted them, and they were quick to concede the notion that it had been stolen, and gave me a refund. I think they misplaced the action figure or just forgot to actually mail it off. I didn't see them relist it, and, like I said, I got a quick refund, which was used to go get another action figure. This is why some of the earliest images of the idea of this group of cadet action figures being something non-Star Trek omits Greta- she wasn't there. It reminds me of those early TNG promotional photo shoots and Worf is nowhere to be found. They were still unsure if they wanted a Klingon in the main cast. In another world, was Worf just a one-off? The captain had to get on him quite a bit in that episode, "Do you intend to blast a hole in the viewer?", made him look like a dipshit. Maybe he would have been an O'Brien like character, I doubt they would want that Klingon forehead stuff to go to waste.

It's not a big deal, BUT every action figure is unique- they're always painted just a little bit differently, different choices made. Some Datas have brown eye brows, some seem to be black, and some are silver. Sometimes, your Kirks are squinty, other times they look fat-headed. Their eyes are doing something different, which goes a long ways toward giving an action figure automatic personality. I have two 80s TNG Datas. One looks pretty mellow, if not spaced out. He got the season 2 pelt. The other looks like a Lore action figure, oddly enough, just looks mean and evil.

While I don't think there's anything exceptionally remarkable about the action figure used for Greta, under slightly different circumstances, "Greta" would have a little bit different personality in the face, and one could very well have had some unseen influence on Rachael's performance. I do recall letting the actors play around with the action figures they were voicing just to see if it inspired something.

I'm running out of places to look for those two action figures. I'd love if if they were somewhere so close to me right now, they could bite me. I'm kind of hoping I'm just a dumbass and they're in a really obvious spot.