#i havent read this back so if it makes no sense or is full of typos i am sorry

[lost-in-fandoms]

I know maybe you're not in the mood right now but any thoughts about Tarzan!Max? I'd accept thoughts about any of your pics because everything is amazing tbh but there's something about Tarzan!Max discovering a new world through Daniel and discovering how amazing is to fall in love.

Does Daniel take him to his farm? I think Max in Daniel's farm would be hilarious, amazed by everything and finding a family in Daniel's family too.

babe i am always down to talk about my boy in all and any situations! sorry this took a while, i took a little nap and then couldn't think about anything but!!!

(the first thing I thought was like..how do you get a whole person through customs. obviously max doesn't have a passport or any form of id so would they have to go through a sort of immigration procedure? but he's not emigrating from anywhere???? i guess i'll leave that problem to them sdfbdjhbf)

I love the idea of Daniel taking Max to his farm.

I'm imagining like. The jungle is Max's home right? But I imagine he's a little less in contact with his monkey pack. He likes to wander around and he has his own little hidey holes and his own places to sleep. So when he imprints on Daniel, he sees Daniel's "pack" as his new family. (and I am now thinking about Max trying to "groom" Daniel or Josh or whoever, gently raking his fingers through their hair and fiddling with their clothes and cleaning dirt smudges away after licking his thumb).

So when Daniel asks if Max wants to go with them, both because he can't imagine leaving another human being in the jungle and because he can't imagine leaving Max behind, Max goes. And in whatever way they manage to do it, Daniel brings him to his farm.

He understands that Max will probably never be ready to live in a city or close to a lot of people, he needs to be close to nature, and even if the nature in Daniel's farm is different from the jungle, it's still better than most options.

I imagine at first Max will struggle to adapt. He is used to have a lot of space to roam, to have trees to swing from, a whole different climate, a whole different diet. and now Daniel asks he wears at least underwear and a tshirt most of the time, he has to eat different foods, it rains so much less? where is the rain? how is he supposed to be clean if there is no river?

Daniel has to really help him through a lot. it helps that Max is learning to communicate more and more every day, but sometimes they bump into a new roadblock that they weren't expecting, and Daniel is reminded about how different Max's life has been so far. (would love to explore an overstimulated-by-electronic-noises max when i have more energy maybe. or a deeply-sad-because-where-is-my-jungle max)

But I think Max also really enjoys learning new things. He is delighted by some of the simplest things, which makes Daniel look at life in a different way too. How did he never realise how amazing forks and knives are? why does he think so little about how incredible it is to be able to make ice in his own freezer? the wonders of a ceiling fan???

I can picture Max spending long minutes just staring at things. Clocks, the washing machine, the fan, the turned off television, the kitchen sink tap. turning lights on and off. flushing the toilet over and over. And I can also picture him taking apart stuff and then (try to) put it back together, like the toaster (was never the same), the blender (was left with several pieces on the counter), the tv remote (tried to eat the buttons).

Max being terrified of Daniel's phone and then, when he gets used to it, absolutely fascinated by it. Asking so many questions about everything that Daniel doesn't know the answer to and forcing him to look them up because Max will simply not stop asking until he has a satisfying answer.

On the other hand, Max taking care of the vegetable garden and the animals. Being so incredible at it that it becomes mainly his job. They're different from the animals he's used to, but he is amazed by the chickens and loves them so much. Sometimes he likes to just sit with them and pet them softly. He becomes best friends with the donkey and the alpacas. maybe Daniel gets him bunnies and at first he's worried Max will kill them when he's hungry, but Max is so so gentle with them and loves them all so much.

And in all this, Max loves Daniel. He does his best to make Daniel food, gives him little "gifts" (eggs from the chickens, tomatoes from the garden, a clean sweater straight from the drier, a glass of water with clinking ice), curls up around him at night because he always refuses to sleep in his own bed. He's very protective of Daniel and gets upset when Daniel needs to leave the farm for errands or other things.

And Daniel shifts from I am very fond of this weird jungle boy to I would very much love to sleep in your arms for the rest of my life with a side of oh my god when is this beefy jungle guy gonna rail me. He sees how gentle and sweet and smart Max is, how quickly he learns about things and adapt to this new life, how interested he is about everything, how he takes care of Daniel, the farm, the animals, and can't help but fall in love with it all.

And the first time Daniel kisses Max at the farm, they're on the couch, Max watching something on the tv, almost without blinking, and Daniel watching Max. He calls his name and when Max turns (because Daniel will always be more important than anything else, even if the guy in the tv is cooking beef and Max is kind of hungry) Daniel kisses him. Max stays still for a bit and then when Daniel pulls back Max licks his cheek in response. It's not perfect, but Daniel can teach him. and Max always learns.

[girl-bateman]

How does one get assigned as sam coded / dean coded ? Do I need a doctors note ? A psych evaluation perhaps ?

[phagodyke]

weekend melancholy is starting to kick in >~<

[bigbuffjoonie]

SCREAMS

Okay now that I’m more normal, this fic was so thrilling! Going through the mountain pass I was holding my breath too! The feeling of dread just building up until The Splashes just -chef kiss-!! Loved everything about this and I cannot wait to see pt 2! 💕

The Obsidian Pearl (I)

— pairing: mermaid seokjin x (f) reader — word count: 7.2k — warnings: yandere, descriptions of death/blood/violence — summary: Sailing through The Dead Man’s Passage is a death sentence and the whole crew knows it. But with the ship’s stocks dwindling fast, your captain is left with no other choice. When a haunting melody makes the crew jump ship one by one, you find yourself alone with the demon lurking in the murky red water. As the creature beckons you to jump into the icy ocean – “come to me, pet” – you find that you can’t do anything but obey.

“Captain, this is a bad idea.”

A hush falls over the deck, a few whispers being passed back and forth between the crew as they watch you challenge the captain’s decision. There’s an audible gulp somewhere behind you as the captain pins you with a hard gaze, his jaw clenched tight with annoyance.

He taps the map that’s spread out in front of him, voice leaving no room for argument as he says, “This is the fastest route.”

“That may be, Captain, but it’s not worth the risk. Haven’t you heard the stories? The numerous crews that have gone missing after sailing in this area? There’s a reason it’s called The Dead Man’s passage!”

Keep reading

[reiincarnatiion]

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part two

summary : jealous but confused azriel, yearning shadows and sexy lucien and sexy reader ;)

🧚‍♀️

a/n: 💗 WOW. SO MUCH SUPPORT ON THE FIRST PART BROOO GUYS I JUST OFCOURSE HAD TO WRITE PART TWO and def will have part 3 i guess? ngl i am an angsty writer so im not good at writing happy endings HAHA rip for u all.

this is so addictive ive already written 3 stories in a span of like three days HAHAH 💗

also most azriel stories i read are never from his perspective so im keeping it from his perspective to change things up! he is def a bit out of character because i havent read acotar for a while rip but enjoy! thanks for the support and let me know your thoughts !! also this isnt proof read cuz ya girls lazy >.<

read [ part one ] !!

---💗---

"What are you two doing?"

Lucien and you both looked up, shocked (but not really) , to find Azriel standing in the middle of the dance floor, clad in his black silk shirt and pants, with swirls of tattoos peeking through, his collarbone on full display. Fae moved gracefully around him, dancing and making out, carefully avoiding the famed shadow singer.

He stands in front of you two, just as you two had begun your pathetic attempts to drunkedly dance. Your short dress had ridden up to the top of your thighs, pressed against Lucien's pants, and Azriel knew it was entirely inappropriate. He observed as you raised your eyebrows and looked down at him.

He couldn't fathom how you two had crossed the line from friends, but he knew it was wrong. Over the eons, he had seen you with many men, but they had always been strangers to him and the Inner Circle. They had never been serious.

Were you and Lucien serious? The club fell silent to him,  as he awaited your answer.

His shadows swirled around his feet, urging him to intervene. Some even attempted to caress your legs, but Azriel swiftly reeled them in, refusing to acknowledge how soft and sweet-smelling they might be. He couldn't bear to know how apparently tempting they were.

Azriel clenched his jaw as you gazed back at him with your kohl-lined eyes, their newfound seductive power nearly breaking his stoic demeanor.

He bit the inside of his cheek to quell the sudden effect your look had on him, not wanting to indulge in such thoughts; they could only lead to trouble.

"Uhhh... Dancing?" you drawled back finally, rolling your eyes in a way that he would have only have liked to see in bed with you, behind you, with his hands wrapped in your hair as he-

He blinked, the deafening thumping of the music returning to his consciousness, as the rush from his panicking shadows ebbed away, calming his racing heart.

What was he doing? Why did he even come here? A wave of guilt washed over him as he tore his gaze away from your captivating eyes, only to hear you laugh and giggle as Lucien whispered something in your ear, drawing you closer. A giggle Azriel had never noticed was so adorable and sexy at the same time.

Azriel shook his head, trying to make sense of the overwhelming emotions within him. It didn't make any sense. You were like a little sister to him, an integral part of his family.

Stupidly, he realized that he didn't know why his shadows urged him towards you, nor did he understand the sudden waves of jealousy coursing through him.

"AZ! SO NICE OF YOU TO FINALLY JOIN!" a voice screeched, breaking the tension that had enveloped him and the couple in front of him.

They weren't a couple, but they looked like one, and he couldn't stand it. He didn't know why he was acting this way, but he knew one thing for sure: he didn't like it.

He didn't like how Lucien's slender fingers gripped your waist with such familiarity and intent.

The voice that had called out before now manifested next to him as Cassian stumbled over, dragging Nesta along. Their interlocked hands taunted him once more, but Azriel forced himself to look up at Cassian.

"BROTHER!! LET'S DANCE!!" Cassian howled, reaching them and clumsily starting to move their bodies to the rhythm, grabbing Azriel's shoulders to mimic their motions. Azriel stumbled back, desperate to escape the situation, but Cassian persisted.

"Leave me alone, Cassian," he mumbled, brushing his brother's hands away with his gloved ones.

"Why don't you ever dance with us?" Cassian whined, oblivious to Azriel's attempts to withdraw.

Azriel burned with annoyance, returning his attention to you and Lucien. But then, a tender voice spoke out behind him, and he knew it was Feyre even before turning around to see Rhys drunkenly laughing with Cassian as the other couple joined.

“Az, what are you doing, staring holes into Lucien and Y/N,"

"I--" Azriel faltered, trying to make sense of his emotions and jumbled thoughts. "It's just wrong."

He blinked, wondering why he had even gotten up in the first place.

"They're just drunkenly dancing; Elain is fine with it. You don't have to defend her honor here, Az," Feyre assured him, patting him on the back before returning to her mate.

Azriel stood still, smoothing out his pants and running a hand through his tousled hair. The club's hazy atmosphere seemed to envelop him, and he realized that the fae wine he had consumed tonight had hit him hard. Perhaps he had gone too far this time.

"Yes, yes, of course. I just thought Lucien should respect Elain..." he answered hastily, though he knew Feyre had already left. Shadows informed him that Rhys and Feyre had retreated to their more secluded spot again, and Azriel felt a pang of envy.

A couple of fae rammed into him, slightly spilling their drink and apologising in a haste as they realised who they had just knocked into. He glowered down at them and shook his head, stalking back silently back to the booth.

He walked back to the booth where Elain was still seated, nursing a pink drink.

"What was that all about, Az?" she asked innocently, though her doe eyes betrayed her knowing nature.

"It was nothing."

"You were clearly distraught, Az."

"My shadows sensed something was wrong, that's all, Elain."

"Lucien and Y/N?" Elain asked gently, her hand reaching for his gloved hands.

Azriel looked down at her delicate skin brushing against his black leather glove and he felt a sudden overwhelming contrast between the two. He removed his hand from hers, realizing how mismatched they were.

Cassian and Nesta complemented each other perfectly, a match made from the Cauldron itself. Feyre and Rhys shared a love and trust so profound, it was interwoven within their powers.

But what did he have with Elain, other than a forced interest in gardening and her white and pink flowers?

"They're just dancing, it's fine," he told her, his voice numb. He couldn't help but look back at you and Lucien, still writhing against each other on the dance floor in ways that supposedly platonic friends shouldn't.

Lucien's hands were still firmly on your waist as you both gyrated, laughing and singing along to the music. You'd blame it all on the alcohol the next day, if asked about your actions. Azriel knew that, just as he'd experienced countless nights where Cassian or Rhys had kissed him during similar inebriated moments.

Beside you two, Nesta and Cassian mirrored your movements, seemingly unfazed by the intimate nature of your dance. The club's flashing colors continued to shift and flash all around Azriel, in strikes of pink, blue and green but all he saw was red, and he did not

Know

Why.

---

read part three here dearies !!

taglist for shadows of destiny : @allyjoe755 @impossibelle @t0uch-starved-h0e @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @marina468 @cassan1306

[cloudcountry]

Eeee requests are open for Rollo!! Ahem.

So ever since I watched a playthrough of the GloMas event, I always had this idea in my head where Rollo and Yuu (or in this case, the reader) are dancing in the ballroom. But Yuu/Reader knew Rollo's connection to what happened with the Crimson flowers (?) and they disliked him for it. But they also don't have a choice but to dance with him to avoid conflict.

I was obsessed with Enemies to Lovers by Joshua Kyan Aalampour at that time so it kinda influenced the idea hehe

Thank you and take a good rest after this!! <3333

SUMMARY: you're trapped in a fearful waltz with the man you hate.

WARNINGS: none!!

COMMENTS: COOKIE THAT PIECE IS BEAUTIFUL........readers if you wnat to listen to something while you read please listen to it its so good and made my writing flow so easily omg

i havent played the full event so if some parts dont make sense thats why!! im only going off of some spoilers ive seen so if you havent seen any spoilers for this event tread carefully i guess!!

Your hands shake as the man in front of you takes them, his stare cold and triumphant. He knows he’s won this battle, that you have to dance in order to preserve Night Raven’s reputation or risk making yourself look bad. He knows he’s won and it kills you inside. You have half a mind to step on his toes but you decide against it.

His hand grasps your waist and sweeps you into a waltz. You hold back a violent shudder at the touch of a madman, your heart pitter-pattering like the ashes against the cobblestone paths. Rollo sighs, almost like he’s relaxed, like he’s enjoying this dance with you.

You could not agree less.

“Are you having fun?” he asks, words laced with a mocking poison.

You seeth, but keep your mouth closed. You will not give him anything to use against you. The dance continues as the orchestra hits another crescendo, and bile crawls up your throat when Rollo spins you and dips you in accordance with the music.

He’s a delightful dance partner, although you loath to admit it. If he wasn’t so unpleasant to be around and didn’t actively put the people you loved in danger, you may have enjoyed this moment.

That thought vanishes the second you see his face and the ugly smirk that adorns it. You hate this. You hate this and you hate him. You hate having to rely on your magical peers to drag you away from Rollo, even though they can’t right now because this dance is supposed to signify goodwill.

It doesn’t matter how much Deuce hates to see you uncomfortable, or how much Jamil takes in your partner's body language to make sure he isn’t planning anything nefarious, or how hard Azul clenches his fists in displeasure or how much Grim wants to bite his ankles or how much Malleus wants to rip Rollo’s hands off of you because they would ruin everything if they did and that’s simply not an option any of them can take anymore.

And so you dance.

You dance and you can’t wait for it to be over.

[whereforarthur]

It's Been Way Too Long

Request: id love a george smut, perhaps one of us have been rlly busy like all summer and barely had any time to see each other so when it gets to september time (ish) we havent realised how much we miss each other

Pairing: George Clarke x Reader

Category: Smut

Word Count: 2.2k

*****

“I think I'd miss you even if we never met.” — The Wedding Date

The London skies were a canvas of soft grays and muted blues, hinting at the promise of rain. The bustling streets below were a blur of umbrellas and rushing footsteps. Amidst the thrum of the city, a solitary figure sat on a bench in a small, overlooked park, a patch of green nestled between concrete giants. George Clarke, known to the internet as "The Clarke Cut", was a man of sharp contrasts. His online persona was vibrant, full of life and humor, but in this quiet moment, he was lost in thought, his eyes reflecting the weight of the world.

For months, George had thrown himself into his work, leaving little room for anything else. His YouTube channel had grown exponentially, the demands of content creation an ever-hungry beast that consumed his days and nights. The price of success had been steep, and he felt the cost keenly as he stared at the empty space next to him, where you, or y/n as he liked to call you, should have been. The vividness of your laughter and the warmth of your smile had been replaced by the cold metal of the bench, and the echoes of the city's cacophony.

The first leaves of autumn began to dance around him, a sad ballet of nature's end and rebirth. The chill in the air seemed to mirror the chill in his heart, a stark reminder of the seasons passing and the time lost. You had been his anchor, a steady presence that kept him grounded amidst the chaos. Without you, the city felt like an alien landscape, one he was navigating for the first time without a map.

George pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over your name in his contacts. The urge to hear your voice washed over him like a wave, but fear held him back. Would you be upset? Would you even have time to talk? With a sigh, he sent a text, keeping it light, hoping it didn't betray the tumult in his soul. "Missing you," it read, with a simple heart emoji. It was all he could manage.

Minutes ticked by, the silence stretching into a symphony of unspoken words. His phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. It was you. "Miss you too, George," it said, followed by a smiling face with a tear. His heart clenched at the sight. You had felt it too, the distance that had grown between them like an invisible wall.

The rain finally made its appearance, lightly kissing the leaves before turning into a steady rhythm against the pavement. George didn't bother moving, the cool drops a soothing balm on his heated skin. The scent of wet earth and the faint smell of rain-soaked flowers filled the air, a familiar comfort that only heightened his longing for your presence.

As the drops grew heavier, his thoughts grew clearer. He knew what he had to do. Success meant nothing if he couldn't share it with the one who truly mattered. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the path ahead. He had to make time for you, to prioritize what truly made him happy. The rain grew into a crescendo, each drop a beat in the rhythm of his newfound resolve.

Standing up, George tucked his phone away and took a deep breath, the rain soaking his clothes and hair. He'd rearrange his schedule, make the calls, and do whatever it took to bridge the gap that had formed. With a renewed sense of purpose, he stepped into the storm, the cold water mixing with the warmth of his determination. The city around him blurred as he set off in the direction of your flat, eager to feel the warmth of your embrace and to apologize for his neglect. The rain washed away the dust of the summer, leaving behind the promise of a fresh start, a chance to rekindle the flame that had been smoldering between them.

By the time he arrived, the rain had become a downpour, turning the streets into rivers and the air into a thick mist. He took the stairs two at a time, his heart racing in anticipation. The door to your flat stood before him, a symbol of the comfort and love that waited within. He took a moment to compose himself, wiping the rain from his face before knocking softly, his breath hitching in his chest.

When the door opened, the sight of you took his breath away. You looked tired, your eyes a bit sad, but the moment they met his, a spark ignited, lighting up the room. The silence stretched between them, filled with the unspoken words of regret and longing. Without a word, George stepped inside, closing the door behind him, the sound echoing through the small space like a declaration of intent.

You stood before him, rain-soaked and beautiful, your hair clinging to your face like a veil. The air was charged with tension, the kind that comes from months of missed moments and unspoken truths. He reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek, the touch sending a jolt through both of you. Your eyes searched his, looking for reassurance, for a sign that he truly meant it. And in that moment, George knew that he had made the right choice. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both desperate and gentle, a silent promise to never let you go again.

The kiss grew in intensity, a conflagration of passion that had been smoldering for too long. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, as if trying to erase the space that had grown between you. The world outside the flat disappeared, leaving only the two of you, entwined in a dance of love and apology. The rain outside was now a mere backdrop to the symphony of your hearts beating in unison, a testament to the fact that no matter how busy life got, you two were destined to find your way back to each other.

Breaking the kiss, George whispered, "I'm sorry. I've been so caught up in work, I forgot what's truly important."

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. "It's okay," you murmured, your voice a soft melody that soothed his soul. "I understand. But I missed you. So much."

He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing away the stray teardrops. "I missed you too. And I promise, from now on, I'll make more time for us."

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'd like that."

With the storm outside mirroring the tumult in their hearts, George took your hand and led you to the couch. You sat down together, the fabric warm and welcoming against your cold, wet clothes. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side, and you rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

The sound of the rain grew softer as you talked, sharing stories of the summer's escapades and the moments you'd wished you could have shared. Each word was a thread weaving the fabric of your relationship back together, stronger than before. The warmth of the room began to seep into your bones, chasing away the chill of the rain and the months of separation.

As the conversation lulled, George reached over to the coffee table, picking up a notebook and a pen. He flipped through the pages, his eyes scanning the words and doodles that chronicled your life together. "Look," he said, pointing to a page filled with sketches of the two of you in various stages of laughter and love. "I want to fill this book with more memories. Starting now."

A blush crept up your cheeks as you took the notebook from him. The promise in his eyes was more than you could have hoped for. With a shaky hand, you wrote, "September 15th - The day George realized what truly matters."

Underneath, he scribbled, "And the day I came home to you."

*****

The moment was filled with the quiet understanding that sometimes life gets in the way, but true love always finds a path back. The rain outside had slowed to a gentle patter, as if it too knew that the storm had passed and that now was the time for growth and renewal.

George's hand slid down from your cheek to your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He kissed you again, this time with a hunger that had been building for months. Your bodies pressed closer, the warmth of your skin a stark contrast to the cold fabric that separated you. The rain had made the air thick with desire, and you could feel the heat radiating from George's body, his need for you palpable.

Your hands found their way under his shirt, feeling the dampness of his skin and the tautness of his muscles. The sensation sent waves of electricity through you, and you realized just how much you'd missed the simple act of touching him, of feeling his heart race in response to your touch. His hands roamed your body, exploring the curves and valleys that he knew so well, yet somehow felt new and exciting. The rain outside had become a soft, rhythmic backdrop to your reunion, a natural metronome setting the pace of your passion.

As you kissed, you both began to peel away the layers of clothing that had kept you apart, revealing the warmth and desire that had been trapped beneath. Your skin met with a sigh of relief, like two long-lost friends finally reunited. The couch cushions grew soggy with rainwater, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the connection that surged between you, a current more powerful than any storm.

The smell of damp fabric and the gentle scent of your perfume mixed with the musk of passion as you became lost in each other. The storm outside had brought you back together, and now, you were determined to make the most of every moment. The sound of the rain grew fainter as you became more attuned to the sound of your breaths mingling, the beat of your hearts syncing up as one.

George lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom, his eyes never leaving yours. The floorboards creaked underfoot, a gentle reminder of the history you shared in this space. You knew every inch of this room, every crevice and corner, but it had never felt more intimate than it did in that moment.

Laying you down on the bed, he hovered over you, his gaze intense and filled with love. The soft light from the streetlamp painted shadows on the wall, playing across your bodies as you moved together in a dance of passion. The thunder outside rumbled in the distance, punctuating the silent promises made between kisses and caresses.

Your bodies intertwined, the coldness of the rain forgotten in the warmth of your love. The room was filled with the sound of the rain, the sighs of pleasure, and the whispers of sweet nothings that meant everything. The storm outside mirrored the intensity of your reunion, each flash of lightning illuminating the passion in your eyes, as if the very sky was celebrating your reconciliation.

The rain grew softer, the thunder a gentle reminder of the tempest you had weathered. As your bodies found their rhythm, the storm outside seemed to mimic your own, building to a crescendo before subsiding into a gentle lull. You lay there, tangled in the warmth of each other's arms, the city of London a silent witness to your love.

In the aftermath of your passion, you both lay still, listening to the fading patter of rain and the steady thrum of each other's hearts. The world outside had continued to turn, but for a brief moment, it had stopped for you both. You knew that from now on, no matter how busy life got, you would always find time for each other, because you had just survived the storm, and the calm that followed was more beautiful than any summer's day.

You leaned up to kiss him softly, tasting the salt of the rain and the sweetness of your shared love. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice a mere breath against his skin.

George smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "For what?"

"For reminding me what's important," you said, your eyes searching his. "For coming back to me."

He kissed you again, his arms tightening around you. "Always," he murmured, his voice a solemn vow. "I'll always come back to you."

The room was a cocoon of warmth and love, the storm outside a gentle lullaby, as you both drifted off to sleep, the sound of the rain a soothing serenade. Hours passed, the city's heartbeat growing quieter as the night deepened. When you awoke, the rain had stopped, leaving a freshness in the air that seemed to cleanse the very essence of the world. The scent of wet earth and the faint sound of distant cars washed over you, bringing with it a sense of peace.

******

@gvf23

@xxkatxgracexx

[multifariousqueer]

Don’t be late pt.2

GO READ PT.1 IF YOU HAVENT

A/n: Ahhhh I hope y’all enjoy this as much as I did. Lmk if I should write something else. As always, keep requesting

Warnings: none, miles being nervous, spoilers ig, your dad being a dad

So what was his marvelous plan? He was just gonna swing by his house, web his jacket and shorts, and swing over as fast as he could; the issue with this plan? He would’ve been 3 minutes late and he couldn’t take that. He could text you but your words rang through his head like a bell:

“don’t. be. late."

It was the one thing you asked of him and he couldn’t even do that. Reveal his identity? He didn’t even tell his own parents, let alone yours; forget it. Maybe just go to your window, web the clothes, change on the fire escape, swing down and ring your doorbell? That seemed like the best plan in the moment. So, Miles carried out the act; he was whimsical, quick and still managed to make it the only issue? He was a minute late.

“Where is he?” you mumbled to yourself

Suddenly, you heard a knock at the door and your parents voice:

“Hello, young man. How can I help you?” your parent asked

“Uhm, I am here for, Y/n. We’re dating and I was supposed to meet you” Miles said, nervously.

“Why did I add in the dating part?” Miles questioned in his head

“Oh! Well, hi; I’m Y/n’s mom. Don’t mind (y/d/n dads name), can be a bit mean” your mom answered

“It’s okay. It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Miles” Miles said, his voice still trembling

“Well nice to meet you, Miles! Y/n has told us so much about you, you’re all she talks about” Your mom said

“Mom!” you said

“Hey, Miles. You can set your jacket down in the closet” you said

“Okay” he obliged

Miles began to take off his shoes out of habit when your dad jumped in:

“woah dude, what are you doing?"

“Oh! It’s customary to remove your shoes in my house. It shows you have respect for someones house by not tracking dirt in” Miles informed

“oh. well don’t get too comfortable here, we don’t do that.” Your dad said, sternly

“Yes sir. I’m sorry.” Miles said, feeling embarrassed

“Y/d/n! Don’t be so mean to the boy.” your mom scolded

“He’s the one taking off his shoes and shit.” your dad said.

“Dad!” you started

“It’s okay, y/n. I mean it.” Miles reassured

The rest of the meal and day went well. Miles gave your mom the flowers, he reintroduced himself to your dad and gained a bit of his respect, and he managed to make them both laugh. You thought the meal couldn’t get any better until your dad brought out your favorite game:

“Let’s play Uno"

“Oh yay! I love uno but someone always beats me at it” your mom said looking at you

“Well what can I say? I’m the champ” you said, proudly

“Miles, are you good at Uno?” your dad asked, patting him on the neck

“yeah I’m pretty okay at it. Y/n always beats me tho” he replied with a smirk

“Hey maybe we can team up on her” your dad laughed

“Hey! No fair!” you laughed

“you know we’re kidding, y/n” your mom said before gesturing to Miles and your dad to team up

The cards were dealt and before you knew it, you had been down to your last two cards. Just when you thought you were about to sweep and win again, Miles puts down a +4 which you prepared for but what you weren’t expecting was for your mom and dad to put one down going back to miles who whispered an “I’m sorry” to you and put down another +4.

Your heart dropped in horror; you know were forced to pick up 20 cards. You stared in disbelief while Miles smirked and your parents picked up the cards and slid them over to you. You slammed your hand on the cards and slowly dragged them over to you.

“Hijo de puta” you cursed under your breath

“Hey don’t curse because you got +20’d” Miles laughed with a smug smile

As your entire family was laughing at you, Miles froze. You knew this look all too well because this was the look he gets when his senses go off. You looked in his eyes and followed his gaze to a man in a full black attire with spots, staring at you. Your breath hitched and your family took notice

“Is everything alright, y/n?"

“Mhm” you said, your mouth becoming dry

“I have to go. I am so sorry, something came up with my parents” Miles said

“Oh okay! It was nice having you, feel free to come by anytime” Your mom said as Miles rushed outside, stripping on the way

“What was his deal?” your dad asked

“His parents needed him for something” you lied

“They couldn’t wait until I showed him my rare coin collection?” your dad chuckled

All you could do was laugh and smile at your dad.

“Oh look! It’s spider-man!” your mom exclaimed

You snapped your head in that direction, earning a crack from your neck and you saw Miles getting rocked while the man in black escaped into a portal. You texted Miles:

You: Is everything alright?

Miles: notreally

You: Can I help?

Miles: nosorry

Miles: I’m gonna be gone for a while. This guy is bigger than I thought. In case I don’t come back, Mami; I had a great time and I love you

You: Miles don’t say that you’re gonna come back

You: You always do

You: Miles?

seen

[strawberrieslovethere]

Blue moon baby

Vergil x reader. You have a crush on vergil but havent told him, the DMC crew and you have a mission that ends in celebrating. Not proofread. MDNI NSFW! ⚠️Warnings:alcohol use, masterbation, oral, biting,sex

Thinking of the song of the same title when I wrote some of it.But just the chorus really.

You've been having trouble lately, your thoughts have been  preoccupied with Vergil. He's always so distant. With his stoic demeaner. Your captivated by his whole being.You crave seeing him more. You want him badly.Which bring you to your current situation. You've tried to fall asleep. Sleep you need for tomorrows mission in order to keep up with the half demons twins. You couldn't stop your mind fantasing about him. The bright light of the near full moon wasn't helping your self-control with that blue glow . Glowing blue just like Vergil you think to yourself. You think of his skin unintentionally touching yours earlier today on the way back from your mission. You think of his gorgeous hair slicked back and his icy blue eyes. Thinking of his voice made you

shudder. You wonder where he was right now. Was he still reading on the sofa? Was he in his bed reading? Was he asleep? Normally you would have enough restraint to  ot touch yourself. But alas, it could be stopped no longer. You pulled down your  cotton undies to your thighs and lazily rubbed your clit using your slick to glide your finger. Thinking about everytime you saw him.The first time you saw him. You imagined what he might look like underneath his jacket, his vest, you knew he had to be ripped, he was tough as fuck and strong. You picked up the pace sighing.He must be asleep by now, but how would it feel to kiss him, how would his big hands feel touching you?You tried to please yourself as quiet as you could just heavily breathing. Vergil at about that same time was walking the hall to get to his room. Something caught his ear as he

approached your room. Thanks to his heightened sense of hearing. He hadn't ever heard noises before when he walked by.The door was slightly ajar so he peered inside half out of concern half out of curiosity . He saw you laying on top of your bed shirt pulled up underwear stretched by your thighs. Fingers rubbing circles and strokes on your clit. Hushed gasps escaping your lips. He blushed over accidentaly catching you in such a private moment.He couldn't help feeling aroused. He stepped away,your image ingraved in his mind. He felt ashamed it turned him on so much.He was about to walk way when he heard you wimper his name."Vergil". His heart skipped, had you seen him? He looked back at you and your feet were flat on the mattress and your ass slightly raised off the bed hips rolling to your fingers massaging your clit faster. "Ooh Vergil" you

mewl. He couldn't take his eyes off you. You looked so pretty with your toned body and hard nipples your slick glistening under the moonlight squeezing your tit, your ass jiggling as you shake from pleasure uttering his name with the cute faces you make as you climax deep in your fantasy. His image was so vivid when you finish almost like he was standing right there before you. You lay panting regaining your composure almost able to go to sleep when you realize the door must have been left opened . You jump up to see if your eyes are playing tricks. Uh oh, it was open. Hopefully you weren't too loud. You look out but no one is there. You quietly shut the door and clean off with some tissues. You jump back in bed still imagining Vergil, him laying next you.You Sigh.Vergil. Thinking to yourself, I love you Vergil. Vergil has since layed in his bed with the image of you in the forefront of his mind. He always liked you, how straightforward you were how kind and sweet, yet strong and ruthless when you fought demons in battle. You were definitely his type looks wise and otherwise.Knowing you liked him was something deep down he craved.His cock was strained in his pajama bottoms. He just palmed himself lightly able to fall asleep easily for once with you in his mind and heart. The next day you take a shower put on your clothes and strap your gear to your belt and back. you make a fruit smoothie and brew water for some green tea. You are pumped for the mission. Lady is going over last minute details. You were able to pay attention even with Dantes cute funny antics until Vergil joins the group. Your heart flutters. You tell yourself,Pay attention!

He has a book in hand and green tea in the other, hes listening but reading at the same time. You try hard to pay attention but you have to look at him just get a glimpse of his beauty. Shocked to see his eyes lock on yours."Good morning." You say softly. With a nod he mouths morning and gives you a smile. Which is shocking as he normally acts like he dosen't give a fuck for greetings enough to smile.Your breath batted you try to still your body and mind,even as you feel jolts of hot arousal flutter from your heart to your core. Luckily your peers don't look like their noticing much. When the briefing is done you all load into the van. You sit at the table Vergil sits across you with his usual look of indifference you keep stealing glimpses of him when you think he's least paying attention;he's so fine.You bite your lip trying to get serious about your mission. It dosen't stop you from stealing glances though, while Niko drives like a maniac. You try to distract yourself by doodling in your small notebook from your pouch but everything drawn keeps being something about vergil. I got it bad, uggg. You look up at him and you find hes staring at you you're almost certain he knows about what your thinking, and what your writing and doodling. You smile and giggle softly clearing your throat. He smiles back and you are so taken aback by his changed demeaner towards you this day.

All, save for Nico, exits the van going straight into battling. Hell caina reapers and empussas are the first lesser demons you and the crew encounter. You bag several of these ones alone. Then you head to the main target.Only to be ambushed by a vaste hoard of hell caina, hell antenoras and worst of all  judeccas. Swifly are these demons disposed of by sword and gun. Then the boss rears its ugly head swords piercing the huge demon gunfire all the while raining into the hellbeast as it strikes. You rapidly fire your 50 cal unleashing a storm of heavy metal as does Lady with her Kalina Ann's. Trishs bolts stunning the beast. The demon spews uncouth words while failing to strike.Three of you holding back strategically, while the demon boys hack and stab at it into oblivion while you unapologetically study their physiques. Lady finishes with a last Canon blast just for good measure.

Everyone was feeling good. Killing demons this easy was always uplifting, you all decide to party tonight to celebrate.  Nico drives like a demon music blasting, everyone is all laughter and chatter already. Except vergil hes quiet as with his usual look of indifference. Trish,Nico and Nero get the van loaded up on pizza beer and liquor and soda for everyone. Lady urges everyone to drink water to prep for a whole lotta drinking. You sit there studying a book you brought as does Vergil. Dante has his feet kicked up sleeping on the couch. Great you think to yourself, getting drunk maybe I could tell Vergil then how I feel.Or maybe i'll make an ass of myself in front of everyone and be reminisced upon with fond laughter;good case scenario permitting.The crew loudly pack back into the van. Nico lights her stogie and wildly drives back to the shop everybody rushes out. Vergil gives you a hand out of the van. Then closes the door. You blush and thank him.

Once inside  Dante and Nero are chomping down pizza and chugging beer. Everybody has some pizza, except Vergil. Trish has poured shots to challenge anyone who wants to have a go, maybe play a drinking  game or even challenge drinking her under the table.You wash your hands then grab a slice of pizza your nerves are still a little on edge so you go to Trish you clank glasses and shoot it in a gulp each.Your stomach tells you to eat another piece of pizza so you do.  "Another?" Trish offers. "Ummm ok." you watch her pour then scan the room for Vergil. He's standing in the shadow of the room leaning onto the wall, he's eating a noodle bowl and he's watching you?! You quickly look back to the poured shots, you cheers. Oh gosh I gotta hold a straight face for sure. You take the next shot like a champ, despite the burn in your throat and belly."Good huh?" Trish asks. "Uh huh." You say upbeat. It makes you smile that she seems almost like she loves the taste or something, at least someone does. You look around the room and take note of Dante and Nero chugging a beer with Lady they finish at nearly the same time. Dante slightly in the lead. "Yeah well you got a head start!" Nero says."Yea!" lady agrees. We gotta go again."Yeah well I'll  beat all of you!" Nico butts in flicking her cigarette at the ash tray then taking a drag.  You laugh as you finish scanning the room. Vergil was no longer leaning at the wall.Oh God did he go to bed? did he leave? Damn I should say I have to use the restroom and check. You think to yourself. You just about tell Trish "I think I'm gun..gonna". You look to your left and that familiar jacket and scent is less than a foot in front of you."Take a shot Verg?" "Please." he says. Trish put out another shot glass and pours three shots. Wow he's taking a shot. You feel giddy. The three of you shoot it down,you being slightly slower than the demon and half demon. You three have some damn good poker faces after drinking the volatile liquid. Trish pours more. Oh gosh only one more. You think to yourself. You slam them back in unison.

Your already feeling the buzz of the fuel course through your veins. You hear Nico yell."Yeah well if I was taken shots it'd  be a different story!" The other three have progressed to shotgunning their beers in a race to see who finishes first it takes Dante and Nero a fraction of a second  to inhale the beer lady  is close behind. "Grrrr you guys are cheating!"she yells. You giggle Trish fills your glasses again. "Oh uhh, i'll  be right back." You look to Trish and Vergil they nod.  You walk to the restroom. Weighing out in your mind if you should drink more or stop with what you already have. Maybe I can tell Vergil how I feel.Blast if you feel like being a drunk idiot may get the better of you,especially when the crew is getting so intoxicated. When you get to the bathroom you give a sigh. Quickly you go pee wash your hands and make sure your makeup is all good you touch up here and there just to be certain. You rush out the door ready to go back.

Then Vergil walks up."Hey." you say  thinking he was just heading to go to the bathroom but instead he stops and asks you- "Last night when I walked by your room, I heard you say my name, did you need me?" Oh God he heard me last night what if he saw me uggg. Your chest tighten, you start sweating bullets . "I was just uhhh..umm." he's smirking now. With a gulp "Yes." you confess. Your blushing profusely now. You lean up against the wall. "What did you need from me?" He asks placing his hand palm spread on the wall over you staring deeply into your eyes with a sultry look"I uhh I needed....Just.. you.. All of you." He smiles. "Do you still need me?" He's right in front of you an inch away. "Yes" you say  nodding your head. "Well let me help you with that." He brings his lips to your pout your plush lips lock. Fuck he tastes good and his smell is divine.His tongue slips into your mouth and yours into his entwining and lashing into each other, you wimper your soaking through your panties. You roll your hips to try to make contact to grind with him he helps by cupping your asscheeks and pulling you up to his groin. You can feel the strain of his hard cock poking at his leather pants and your pussy through your underwear, it's probably getting on his pants there your so turned on.  Making out you dry hump each other in wanton desire. "Come on let's take this elsewhere" He picks you up like his bride and he opens his room door.

He's so hunky and strong he picks you up like you weigh nothing. You haven't ever been inside but its just as neat and minimal with his blue flair written over it as u had imagined. He sets down Yamato.Your cradling his head and running your fingers through his ultra soft hair you hear a light purr from him. He puts you in front of him now and your legs wrap around his waist hes rubbing your sides and squeezing gently at your flesh of your belly. While you make out you start undoing his jacket and his vest he still has an undershirt on. He slides his arms from his overclothes . He's still feeling your body over your solar plexus with gental rubs it makes you coo. You put your hand into his shirt and feel up his abs and pecs it feels amazing,solid and chiseled and it's for sure the most fit body you have ever touched.He kisses your skin on your neck, then bites then licks and nips your skin. He runs his fang over your bra and it pops open and your boobs bounce slightly. He sqeezes  their suppleness, taking your nipple to his mouth and flicking it you whine. He licks sensually paired with sucks and nips down your breast and belly to your thighs you mewl and pant. Your every sound and reaction boosts his ego all the more. "What was your fantasy?" You think about how you imagined him fucking you and...."Was it this"  He went down sliding your underwear down his face against your pussy breathing he takes out his tongue and licks a strip at your clit you whine "Yes!" He laps at your cunt and tastes your pussy."Mmmm" He groans "This is what I imagined" He breaths as he flicks and rolls his wet tongue back and forth over your clit. You cry out His confession causes your heart to flutter bubbling over.He gently strokes your slit with his thick middle finger then slides it in your tightness. He chuckles slightly trying to push his finger all the way. " How am I gonna fit in here?" You giggle. "Let's  try."You say then smile at him.He manages to get in and he's finger fucking you while eating your pussy.  You shake from it and your pussy clamps harder on his finger. You shudder and rock your hips "Vergil!" He knows just how to suck, lick and finger you.

You really want to see his body and his cock. He can sense this and he pulls back for a moment from licking you, puling off his undershirt his form is most godlike before you. You gasp softly biting down on your lip, because he's fucking your pussy harder and his body is amazing.He stops with a lick then a kiss to your clit with his soft pillowy lips. You tug him  to come to you.You kiss him tasting  yourself on him you caress him moving your hands up and down and kitten licking his abs you kiss and gently bite at his skin near his v curve. Then you go to your knees.  You rub him through his pants your sparkly blue nails lightly scratch the fabric as you palm his bulge. You unbuckle his pants and pull them down and his cock springs forth he's got a huge package.You gasp your mouth waters and you look up at him you havent ever seen someone so beautiful. You kiss his tip first then lick a wet strip up. He groans  as you  swirl your tongue around the crown of his cock.His cock slides on the roof of your mouth and your tongue stopping at your throat you nudge there several times with his cock, then pull it nearly out and push it back in. You grasp its girth with your hand, you can't even touch your fingers together. He's so long there's still inches leftover which you pump i while you suck mewling in desire.When you hear his soft  groans it makes you more lavasious in your efforts to mouth fuck his cock. He wonders if this is something you fantasized doing last night, it was, you often dreamed of getting to suck him off. Its such a turn on.He gently taps you to come up.you pull off with a string of saliva trailing from your lips and his cock that dissipates when you rise.

He kisses your lips and bites your neck ,marking you as his with his fangs,It feels thrilling. He grabs your hips and ass and pulls you up above his cock. He rubs your cunt with his tip. It feels so good. Your so wet there is plenty to coat his cock. He lines his cock to your slit. "Ready?" He asks as he slides the tip in slightly you whine and cry out "Vergil! Oh yeah!"

he's holding your hips as he glides in and out.  His cock partly inside, you lap each others tongues. Your holding onto his shoulders he fucks you thrusting up into you  in slow back and forth strokes easing his girth into your tight pussy till he sinks in his entire length deep in your soft silky tightness. You mewl and gasp wrapping your arms around his neck you kiss his chin. Hes still a few moments letting you adjust."Really tight " He huffs his words a labored raspy groan.  His cock is throbbing from your tightness you stare into each other's eyes kissing and licking a d biting each other's lips. His thick sculpted thighs and calves flexing faster and faster as he starts thrusting into you and your whining and saying his name. "Vergil" He grunts and has you riding his pretty cock while holding you up in the air. You feel the bumpy ridges of his cocks underside with every pump the tip nudging your inner spot deliciously. He starts pounding your little pussy. You hold onto his arms.It becomes apparent  that the bulge of his big cock can be seen in your belly with each thrust he smirks at seeing this, your tiny pussy having to accommodate his thick length."So big Vergil!"  You squeal your words for him only sets him off more along with the sound of slapping skin and wet squelches. His cock hitting your sweet spot each and every time.  His hot sounds are causing you to clamp down on him each time he grunts and growls out your name." Ooh Vergil" You suck on his tongue in timing with his thrusts. He pats your clit rubbing it just right. You mewl into his mouth, ending with a kiss, as stars twinkle on his face and your eyelids and your girl cum gushes onto his cock; the feeling of wet heat and your pulsing cunt cause him to  grip your hips hard. He's slamming you hard and fast and with a deep gutteral growl he unloads a copious amount of unhumanly hot, thick cum streams deep within you, you purr and mewl as he does so. You both are panting your hearts beating fast as he lays back on the bed still sheathed within you. "Wooo." He exhales.Huffing to catch his breath

Your laying on him caressing his soft hair .You sigh into the crook of his neck his scent intoxicating you more so and better than booze ever could. You kiss and lick his neck giving him a love bite. You feel your mixed liquid spill out of you and onto his groin and you just know its dripping down his balls. You just lay there though.He gently strokes your head and neck rubbing circles on your skin. You look at him dreamily adoring him,he stares into your eyes with a pleasant loving look on his face. Until a knock comes rapping at his door "Hey you in there?" "We heard noises." You giggle quietly and vergil snorts lowly. "Get lost" is his only response.Your off of him in an instant as he stands.Vergil throws his clothes on faster than you thought possible. You pull your skirt on and find your top. Your bra is  toast though."You finally getting it on with that hot babe that's been after you for..." Before Dante could  finish his words, Vergil opens the door and has Yamato pressed  to his neck. "Whoa Verg settle down". "Do not pester me Dante" He returnes his sword,swiping him to the floor using it now sheathed."Ok,ok sorry" he coughs, while he just lays on the floor tipsy . You clean off while all this happens check yourself in the mirror and touch up your makeup. Vergil comes back  "Sorry for the interruption." "No worries" You affectionately kiss each other then decide to face the music and see what everyone is doing. Trish and Nico are playing some drinking game where Nico is just about past her limit you estimate to yourself. Shes leaning on the table part of the time hugging it then standing up trying to maintain a sense of control.Trish looks none worse for the wear save for her getting more glassy eyed. Trish must have won.Nero and Lady are having some little tussle on the floor pawing back and forth at Each other. "I won that time" yeah but I won the time before" "No you cheated!" "Grr" they angrily yet playfully  look at each other " we'll  go again" "Dammit wheres Dante."They  just keep going back and forth.Trish looks up at you two and says "That sounded like fun." Throwing back another shot.Vergil closes his eyes and looks away, you put your finger tips to your brow. "Let's go back" he says and takes you back to his room. Dantes gone, probably taking a piss in the bathroom. You lay with Vergil on his bed holding each other. Kissing and caressing into the night. You're lulled by the soothing demonic purr of his chest and heartbeat. The full moon casting its glow on your blue devil boy and you.Finally you both can sleep in  tranquility.

[f1nalboys]

Come Inside - Chad Meeks-Martin

Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!AFAB!Reader

hi guys. this is the fic that was giving me a massive amount of brain rot today!!! i dreamt this (yeah im lucky i know thank you) and havent been able to stop thinking about it since <3 shout out to tatianna (@castieltrash1) for reading it and doing some editing for me, she is the loml and u all need to follow her NEOW! (in fact, she has a charlie from scream 4 fic in the works and its DELICIOUS.) anyways hope u all enjoy this :3

WORD COUNT: 5384 (I KNOW TRUST ME)

WARNINGS: nsfw, first time sex, dub-con except not really?, chad begs to fuck the reader, male manipulator core, 'just the tip' turns into the full thing, unprotected sex, oral (afab and amab recieving,) dirty talk, praise, slight body worship, slight corruption, slight convincing so again, dub con to be safe, high/drunk sex, reader is more high than chad but neither are drunk but they drank if that makes sense, friends to lovers, im just in love with him you guys! reader wears a dress, chad calls reader good girl and pretty girl. actually proofread bc tati is a saving grace angel lady. <3

You feel him before you hear him. You’re at the bar, nursing your first drink of the night, trying to ignore the dull thud the music was giving you when suddenly there’s a large hand placed on the small of your back. “Can I get another beer?” Chad asks the bartender and you feel yourself relax at the sound of his voice, goosebumps rising on the exposed flesh of your arms as his thumb absentmindedly runs up and down. “Hey.” He tilts his head at you a bit. “Nice earrings.”

“Hi. I could say the same to you.” You look up at him and grin, matching his own wide and easy smile. Chad’s standing right beside you, toned body pressed against yours and you don’t know if it’s on purpose or just due to the crowd. “You having fun?” you ask as the bartender hands him the beer bottle. Chad takes a sip from it, looking down at you, grinning against the glass when he notices you watching the way his lips curve against the opening.

It was no secret in the group that you had a crush on Chad. It was hard not to have one on him; he was kind, funny, handsome as hell, and he always seemed to know just the right thing to say. “Now I am,” he teases and you roll your eyes, turning away from him to hide your grin. Just like that. “I’m getting fuckin’ bored though. Too many people. How about you? You find any lucky guys, Y/N?”

“Lucky guys?”

“You know, to take home?” He wiggles his eyebrows for added effect when you look back up at him. “I’m trying to ask if you’re gonna fuck someone tonight.” You nearly choke on your drink and he laughs, deep in his chest, and his hand which was still on your back begins to rub soothing circles. His hands are rough and calloused from his time playing football and they’re so big, with long thick fingers, and suddenly you’re shaking your head in an attempt to get the image of him using them on you, wherever he sees fit, out of your mind. “I take that as a no, then?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, not fucking anyone tonight,” you say, taking another sip of your drink and sighing. “And now my drink’s empty, the music here is too god damn loud, and you’re right, there’s too many fucking people here!” Shaking your head, you dig into the small clutch you had with you, fishing out a few dollar bills and placing them on the bar counter. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Can I walk you home?” Chad asks, finally removing his hand from your back as you slide out of the bar stool. Your eyebrows narrow in confusion. You had one drink, were the furthest from being drunk you had been in your entire college career, in fact, and you only lived five minutes down the road. “C’mon,” he says, shrugging his broad shoulders and flashing you that fucking smile that always made your knees weak. “It’s late, I just wanna make sure you get home alright.” 

You pretend to think on it, letting out a small ‘hmm’ noise as you tap a finger to your chin. “Fine, but you have to come inside and sober up a bit before you leave.” Chad’s smile doesn’t go away at your request. In fact, it seems to grow. He takes out his wallet and places a few bills beside yours, grabbing the bartender's attention and letting them know you both had paid off your tabs before holding his arm out for you to grab. You do so with a shy smile, trying to ignore the feeling of him under your fingertips, or how close you were to him, or how he kept looking down at you with a smile, or even how his eyes kept darting to your lips. Everything he did seemed to be a deliberate attempt to get you worked up and it always fucking worked.

He leads you out of the club with ease and before you know it you’re out on the New York street. “Which way?” he asks and you nod to the right, following beside him at a slow pace. It was a nice night, a cool breeze helping to offset the hot air that had permeated the city during the day, and the lights and noises of the city still awake helped set you at ease. “You really weren’t having fun in there, were you?”

“Why do you ask?” 

“Because we got out here and you relaxed like you had just gotten out of a fight or flight situation.” He laughs and you smile at the sound. Chad was always grinning, always smiling, but he had been through some tough shit. You used to wonder how he was able to keep this positive attitude but then decided to let it go and try not to dwell on it too much. 

“It was just… too much, you know? Lots of people, lights, that music-”

“I just think you’re old.” You elbow him in the side and he grins. “You are! You sound like my mom.” Chad sniffles and places his free hand on his back, slowing down to an almost complete stop, speaking with a crotchety old-lady voice. “Back in my day, we went to the sock hop! We were pulled by a horse and buggy, not these cars! Your music is too loud, Chady-kins, turn it down!”

You both fall into a fit of laughter, picking back up the original pace you had set. “Chady-kins? Oh, I’m so stealing that.” He shakes his head at you and you giggle, leaning further into his grip. “I mean it! And I’m telling your mom you called her old.” 

You stop walking, finally outside of your apartment building. “Too far,” he says, his smile dropping ever so slightly when you let go of his arm in favor of typing in your door code. “Am I still invited in?” he asks and you look over at him. He’s leaning against the old brick building, the lights of the restaurant across the street bouncing off of his skin and his smile and his eyes and you’re nodding, face burning hot. “Yeah?” His voice is deeper than it was just a moment before and it makes you swallow heavily.

All you can do is nod. 

“Good. M’glad. You know I’m not drunk though, right?” he says as you two walk into your apartment building. He lets you go first, leading the way, but you can feel his eyes on your ass each time you move. You not-so-subtly sway your hips as you walk and you swear you hear him suck in a breath. “Only had a beer and a half before we left, so, no real need to sober up.”

“I’m not drunk either. You can still hang out for a bit, though, if you want?” He hums in agreement and then you’re at your apartment, digging through your purse for your keys. “It’s a little messy in here,” you say sheepishly as you open the door, revealing the mess you had left behind in your attempt at getting ready to go out. Chad just laughs, kicking his shoes off at the door and locking it behind him. “I couldn’t figure out what to wear.”

Your heels are finally off and you hurry around, picking up the pile of clothes you had left on your bed and floor, shoving them in your closet and hamper. “Well I���d say you landed on something good,” Chad says from the kitchen, his voice muffled as he bends down and peers into your fridge. “Because you look fucking hot.” You squeak out a thank you and busy yourself at your desk, fixing up the few items you had left out and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, poking your head over and seeing Chad in the living room. He turns around and holds up the ashtray you had left on your coffee table, an unsmoked blunt still on it. “You wanna smoke?” you ask and he nods. “Go ahead. You want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine. You’re not gonna smoke with me?”

“I don’t know,” you say, passing by him as you head into the kitchen to grab two water bottles for the both of you. “I get sorta… weird when I smoke.”

“Weird? Weird how?” Chad asks and you hear the sound of your lighter sparking as he sits back on your small couch with a groan. “Do you, like, talk about conspiracies or some shit? Because I’ve smoked with Mindy before and it’s either that or her talking about whatever girl she’s in love with that day.” You chuckle, face heating up as you turn around and see him on the couch. He’s sitting with his legs spread and you realize instantly how well-fitted his jeans are, tight around his thighs. His head is back on the couch looking up, eyes closed as he takes another hit. Smoke plumes around him in a lazy rolling fog. 

You nudge him with the bottle and he takes it with a thank you. Sitting down beside him, you tuck your legs up, knees pressed against his thigh. God, his thigh. You look away from them, opening up your own bottle of water and taking a few slow sips, the image of you riding his thigh, his hands on your hips, building in your mind. 

“So? How weird is weird?” Chad questions, holding the blunt out to you. You consider it for a second, eyes flicking between it and his face which was turned towards you. You couldn’t tell Chad that the ‘weird’ you got was different from what he was imagining. You didn’t spout off conspiracies about the government, or get paranoid. You got horny, and being around him would only make that ‘weirdness’ worse. The days alone when you would smoke, you’d find yourself in bed, hand between your legs, moaning his name. “C’mon.” 

It’s all the encouragement you need and you pluck it from his fingers and settle back into the faux leather of your couch. “There you go,” he says, taking the time to let his eyes drag down your body while you’re taking a hit.

The dress you wore fit you great, tight against your body, the color complimenting your skin tone. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since he saw you tonight from across the bar, nursing his drink for ten minutes before Mindy had shoved him towards you, telling him that if he didn’t make a move on you she would on his behalf. And now here he was, smoking with you, so close on the couch that he could practically feel your pulse under his skin. He wanted you so badly and everything that came with it, the good and the bad. 

The two of you pass the blunt back and forth a few times, talking about nothing in between, but you were being affected far more than Chad was. “Are you even inhaling?” you ask with a giggle, passing it back to Chad. He rolls his eyes, taking a large hit in order to prove that he was. “Alright, alright. Show off,” you mutter, blinking heavily. “How come it’s hitting me harder than you?” you whine, shaking your head when he offers the blunt back to you. “I can barely even think straight. M’all… fuzzy.”

“I’m cooler than you, duh,” Chad says with ease, taking a hit and waiting for your laughter to die down before blowing the smoke into your face. You let him, blinking, pupils wide. He thinks you look pretty normally, but he thinks you look beautiful like this. He leans over and places the roach onto the ashtray, sighing as he leans back, his left hand resting on your thigh. You swallow heavily, your vision fuzzy. Your dress had ridden up quite a bit now and his hand was so warm against your flesh. He’s looking at you with such an intense look it has you squirming, face hot when he laughs at you. “I wanna kiss you.”

You blink, sure you misheard him. “What?”

“I wanna kiss you. Like,” he laughs, shaking his head slightly. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the lamplight, the whites of his eyes red, pupils blown out. “So fucking bad.” His other hand, the one that had been resting on his thigh, comes up and he places it on your cheek. His thumb runs along your cheek, catching the corner of your mouth. His touch is gentle but everything is so intense still, your skin feeling like it’s on fire, burning against his own. “Can I? Please?”

You nod, closing your eyes when he grins and leans in. The kiss is slow, each movement of his lips done with a purpose. His hand drags from your cheek to the base of your neck, pushing you into his kiss, his touch, just a bit more. You follow his lead with ease, mind too hazy to try and take over. 

He pulls away for a moment to catch his breath, staring into your eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters and he’s kissing you again, harder this time, sloppy. His tongue is slipping inside your mouth and you let out a soft moan, his hand on your thigh dragging upwards, pushing past the fabric. “So fucking hot,” He mutters against your lips, and then you can feel the top of his fingers brush against your underwear, right over your hips, and you’re pushing his hand away gently. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m okay.” He’s still looking at you, hands dropping to his sides, and he looks worried. You can tell he’s wracking his brain for what he did, if he had gone too far somehow. “I’m a virgin.” You blurt it out and squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed. When you had felt his fingers up your skirt it had hit you that if it continued he’d be touching you, that you want him to touch you, but that you weren’t sure if he’d want to.

“So?” Your eyes pop open. Chad is staring at you with a kind smile, dimple evident on his cheek, and you feel your face heat up. “I mean, I’m okay with it if you are, you know?” His hand’s on your leg again, fingers dragging up and down your thigh slowly. “Are you nervous about it?”

“I didn’t know if you’d be alright with it.”

“Well, I am. Besides, wouldn’t it be good to lose it to me?”

“What do you mean?”

Chad’s smile grows and he leans in, lips close to yours. You close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. “You know me, right?” You hum. You want him to kiss you again. “You trust me too, right?” Another hum and this time you're leaning in a little bit, a whine stuck in your throat when he pulls away. “Then you should know that I’d make you feel good. I’d take my time when I touch you,” His hand is up your dress again and your body jerks involuntarily into his touch. “That I’d take good care of you and your virgin pussy.” 

He brushes his fingers up your inner thigh and your legs spread instantly, giving him room. He grins at the sight of you, eyes closed, disheveled, breathing hard, legs spread and hand gripping his forearm. “Please?” you ask and then he’s kissing you, finally, and his fingers are brushing against your clothed clit. You keen into his touch, whining into his lips, but he doesn’t stop. 

His fingers begin to rub slow circles against you, a good amount of pressure, and it feels so different from when you touch yourself thinking of him. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the fact that this is happening, but everything is almost too much. You’re surrounded by him in every way possible, his very being filling your own body, replacing your own needs. All you want is for him to feel good, for him to moan, for him to gasp at each press of your hand against him, for him to be begging for more without even realizing he’s doing it. 

You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel.

“More?” Chad asks, parroting your own words back to you with a smile, taking his lips away from your own, his fingers speeding up. His nose is brushing against your neck before he’s kissing it, biting down against your pulse gently, soothing it with his tongue. “Bet you’re close aren’t you, Y/N?” His voice is right there in your ear, breath hot against your skin, but you can barely focus on that. “C’mon, be good for me and cum, okay? Please? Fuck, need you to cum so bad, baby.”

“Gonna-” Is all you get out before he’s biting down onto your neck again and pressing down hard onto your clit and then you’re cumming, nails digging into his arm, a moan stuck in your throat. “F-fuck, Chad, shit!” His fingers don’t slow down for a second but he’s moving off of you, pushing your dress up your body and pulling your underwear down in one fell swoop. 

He shoves your legs apart and you take a second to catch your breath, looking down at him as he slides down the length of the couch. His eyes are glued to your pussy, fingers swiping through your folds and popping them into his mouth with a groan. “Taste so fucking good, so sweet,” he says, prodding at your hole with his middle finger, looking up at you. “Can I taste you?”

You nod, heart hammering out of your chest, and watch as he leans in, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering closed. As his tongue flicks over your clit he pushes his finger inside you slowly, just to the first knuckle, and your hip bucks at the intrusion, forcing his thick finger deeper inside you. 

“Relax, it’s okay,” he soothes, watching your eyes squeeze at the feeling. His fingers were thick, stretching you out with just one, and his tongue kept moving, swirling around your clit and sending shockwaves up your body. You try to focus on relaxing your body and when he feels you do so he pushes his finger in all the way. “There you go, good girl,” he coos, spitting onto his finger as he begins to pump it inside you. 

Chad is moving slowly, finger pumping in and out at a snail's pace, tongue moving even slower somehow. It almost hurts how slow he’s going and you know it’s to prepare you, to make you want him more than you already did. He wanted you drunk on his touch. “Faster,” you gasp and you can feel him laugh against you. “More, please, Chad?” You feel another finger press at your hole and you could cry, your body begging for more. 

The stretch is only a little painful, his tongue helping to soothe the ache. You can feel the knot in your stomach growing with each quickening pump of his finger, each swirl of his tongue, and you swear you see stars when he scissors his fingers inside you. One of your hands grabs onto his head, pulling his head in closer to your cunt, hips rocking up to meet his fingers and tongue, grinding against him. 

You cum without warning, your cry caught in your throat when he pushes in a third finger. It was too much. Your brain was still fuzzy from smoking and everything he was doing to you was heightened. You could feel every taste bud on his tongue as he flicked it against your clit, every groove in his fingers as they pumped inside you. 

“Ok, ok, too much,” you get out and he stops, finally pulling away from you. His fingers are coated in your cum and you watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he sucks on one of his fingers, groaning at the taste of you, before holding his other two fingers out for you. They press against your lips and your mouth parts, tongue sticking out, and you wrap your lips around them as he pushes them inside. 

“Don’t you taste good?” he asks with a grin, leaning over you, his free hand resting on the arm of the couch beside your head. You hum, swirling your tongue around his digits. Your hands begin to fiddle with his belt, tugging at it, and he grins. “Wanna suck my cock, that it?” You nod, his fingers still inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. “Yeah, I bet you do. Bet you’ve thought all about my cock inside your pretty mouth haven’t you? Fuck, you’re so pretty, you know that?”

You grin, running your hand down his face, mimicking what he had done to you earlier, thumb brushing against the corner of his lips.“You’re pretty,” you say, compliment muffled by his fingers in your mouth, and he gives you a soft laugh, his head falling to hide his grin. He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a small string of saliva connecting them to your lips. “Wanna touch you,” you whine, going back to working on his belt. 

“Whatever you want, baby,” he says, leaning back and shoving his jeans down. He leans backward on the couch, jeans tossed onto the floor, his cock straining against his underwear. You’re practically salivating by the time you are leaning over him, placing soft kisses over the fabric of his underwear, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hey, I didn’t tease you,” he says with a sigh, eyelids heavy with lust at the feeling. He had been hard since he kissed you and the taste of you was still lingering on his tongue and he swears it‘s fucking him up more than the weed did. 

You finally tug at his underwear, pulling them down just enough to pull his cock out. He grabs your wrist, turning your hand palm up and spitting in it, giving you a wink before leaning back, arms behind his head as he enjoys the show. “I’ve never…” you say, suddenly nervous. It was clear to you that Chad had experience in this regard with how easily he had made you cum and you were beginning to worry that you were in over your head, too nervous and inexperienced and high to make sure you did alright.

“That’s alright,” he says, giving you a soft smile, one that instantly quells your anxiety. “Just take your time with it, okay? There’s plenty of time for me to teach you, okay, pretty girl?” You nod, wrapping your spit-slick hand around his cock and he hisses, head tilting back as you begin to stroke him. You start off slow, tightening your grip at the base of his cock and loosening it when you get to the top, swiping your thumb over the tip. “Fu-uck,” he says, tripping over his words with a laugh and a thick swallow. “You sure you’ve never done this before? Feels fucking amazing, Y/N.” 

Leaning down, you keep your eyes on him as you lick over the tip of his cock, collecting the bead of precum there and swallowing it. He groans and you can feel him throb under your hand. You flatten your tongue and lick from the base of his cock up to the tip, following the prominent vein he had, and his hips buck at the feeling. This is exactly how you wanted him; his eyebrows scrunched together, eyes struggling to stay open at the feeling of you, him fucking into your fist with an eagerness he couldn’t control. You were making him feel good and fuck, it went straight to your cunt. 

You don’t try to take all of him in your mouth. It was like he said; there would be plenty of time for him to train your throat, just like he had always dreamt of. You keep your hand on him, moving at the same pace, and you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, swallowing around it. He was big, bigger than any toy you had used before at the very least, and when you take him a bit further down he bucks his hips, plunging his cock down your throat. You gag and pull off of him and he’s apologizing.

“Sh-shit, sorry! Sorry, Y/N, just, fuck, your throat felt so good, couldn’t help it. C’mere.” He pulls you in for a kiss and you know he’s sorry but even if he wasn’t you wouldn’t care. It hits you then, while his tongue is down your throat and his hand is cupping your cheek, that you’d let him do anything to you and that you’d thank him for it. “Can I fuck you?” he asks, pulling away from your lips and resting his forehead on yours. 

“I don’t know…” you start, chewing on your bottom lip. “You’re big… it’s gonna hurt.”

“How about just the tip, then? If you want more we’ll keep going, if not, that’s fine.” You ponder the offer for a second. He told you he’d take care of you, that he’d take his time, make sure it felt good for you. “Don’t you trust me, baby?” You do trust him. You know him, just like he said. You nod and he smiles. “Good girl. Okay, let's go to the bed, yeah? I’ll get you out of this sexy fucking dress and I’ll make sure you feel good, alright baby?”

He helps you stand and keeps kissing you, unzipping your dress as he moves you through the apartment, pulling your straps down. The dress is pulled off of you a second before your knees hit the back of the bed and you’re both falling onto it, giggling. “Hi,” you say, hands on his shoulders. He grins.

“Hi.” Chad stands, pulling his shirt off and tugging his underwear off, tossing both somewhere behind him. You both take a moment to stare at the other, nervous giggles leaving your lips. You had dreamt of this moment dozens of times before, had cum to it just as often, and now it was happening and it was somehow better than what you had ever thought up. “Look at you,” he says, hands dragging up your legs to your chest and back down again. He’s slotted in between your legs and you whine, wrapping one leg around him and pulling him in closer. “Use your words.”

It’s the first time he was really telling you to do something and you swallow heavily. “Please, Chad, can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Can you fuck me? Please? I want you to take my virginity so badly, I need it, please? I’ve thought about it so much, wanted it for so long.” You’re whining now, begging, and you swear you can feel the tears begin to fill your eyes. He’s smiling down at you and his eyes are so dark you’re not sure how much of his iris is left. Your legs spread for him when he nods and you watch with bated breath as he grabs ahold of his cock, spitting on it, before swiping up your slit.

He groans at the feeling. “So wet, baby. Bet your pussy will let me just slide right in.” He pushes the head of his cock in slowly and you gasp, tears filling your eyes at the stretch. It felt good but it hurt and you can feel him rocking his hips ever so slightly, pulling out and pushing back in, never going too far inside you. His hands are on your thighs, digging into your flesh, and you’re overwhelmed again. 

The two of you stay like this a moment, the head of his cock pushed inside, your cunt clenching around him desperately. When he leans down over you, resting his forearms beside your head, he pushes in just a bit more and you whimper at the feeling. Chad wipes a stray tear off of your cheek and kisses you, short soft kisses in an effort to distract you from the pain and him from the overwhelming urge to push all the way in.

“Can I move more?” he whispers against your lips and you shake your head a little, too fuzzy to really think about it. “Please?” he whines, nuzzling into your neck. “Don’t I feel good, baby? Doesn’t my cock feel good inside you?”

“It does-”

“It’ll feel even better all the way inside.” His voice sounds so desperate and now he’s rocking his hips further, plunging another inch inside you and you moan because he’s right, it does feel good. The burn and pain of the stretch have gone away, giving way to pleasure. You want more, you want him, you just don’t know how to say it. “Please, baby, fuck. Your cunt feels so good, so fucking tight and wet and fuckin’ perfect for me. Let me fuck you, god, I need it so bad. Don’t you trust me? You know I’ll take care of you, right?”

You nod, babble out some response close to ‘yes, please, more,’ and then he’s pushing all the way inside, hips snapping forwards. You yelp at the intrusion, caught off guard by how full you feel, and then he’s thanking you over and over and over again as he sets a brutal pace. Chad’s weight is fully on you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. He can’t get enough of your skin against his, of the noises you make, of the way your pussy clenches around him and pulls him in closer, milking his cock. 

“Thank you, oh fuck, thank you, Y/N. Christ, so tight.” His voice is cracking, raising an octave as he begins to lose himself in the feeling of you around him. The pain of his thrusts is quickly overtaken by the pleasure and you’re moaning, wrapping your legs around his hips, driving him deeper inside you. You both could die happy like this. “So close, fuck, how am I so close already?” He’s talking more to himself than you at this point and that’s okay because you’re too focused on the building pleasure in your gut to care. 

The position you’re in has his pelvis grinding against your clit with each thrust and you swear your mind melts just a little bit more each time he fucks into you. “Please, please, please,” you say and you’re not sure what you’re pleading for but all you know is you don’t want him to fucking stop. You’re right there on the edge, can feel it through your entire body, and then Chad is moaning your name loudly and you feel him cum inside you, hips flush against yours.

You cum at the feeling of him filling you and he whines, hips rocking as you pulse around him. He’s sensitive, his head swimming, and the two of you stay like that for a moment, his head in your neck and your arms and legs wrapped around him. “So good,” he finally says, pulling his head back to look at you, his eyebrows stitching together. “You okay? M’sorry, I got carried away, I didn’t even ask-”

“It’s alright,” you say, running your hands up and down his back. You can feel him shiver underneath your touch. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” he teases, kissing you on the lips a few times, biting down on your bottom lip as he pulls back. “Wanna do it again?”

You gasp as his hips begin to move again, the squelch of your cunt and his cum being fucked back into you filling the room. “Y-you wanna go again? Already?” He nods, hand snaking down in between you two, pressing against your sensitive clit and grinning when you whine. “If you can handle it.” You nod despite not knowing if you could; he grins. “My good girl, right? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you cum till you’re stupid. You’ll look so pretty when you’re dumb on my cock, won’t you?”

[plaidos]

i havent done homestuck 2 but your defence of common "pluto is still a planet to me!!" "why didnt rose let jack share with her" esque braindead parrot takes have sold me on why they're wrong. what actual legit criticism of hs2 do YOU have, though? im genuinely curious

i’m actually not totally up to date with HSBC. i was for a little while, i think up to the hiatus (or close) but i’ve been running a homestuck reread workshop in my discord server which has taken up most of my homestucking time. that being said, i do have some thoughts though. for the purpose of this discussion, HS2 will refer to pre-hiatus (with the old team) and HSBC will refer to the comic since James’ team took over.

firstly, this is a lighter criticism, but the pacing of HS2 felt out of whack & i think some of the conversations/character relationship moments shouldve had a longer build up. the Meat storyline particularly felt like it was plodding along even much more stagnantly than the gold ship/asteroid days of HS1; i think a greater focus should’ve been given to the immediate post-Epilogues stakes. i understand that that’s just where the story picks up, a large journey, but i think they should have more things to do than reminisce on their relationships without that tying further in to the wider plot. ironically, the Meat spaceship plot felt too “candy” to be impactful, to borrow the framework of the narrative.

i also think there were some pretty major art issues? i really don’t mind stuff being quick and gritty or simplistic and sketchy — it’s part of what we love about HS1 — but some of the HS2 art felt unfinished in a decidedly bad way. which is a major shame, because actually, when HS2 gets it right it rrrreally gets it right. the immediate full cartoony style we get for like, Jane’s antics in Candy is some of the tastiest homestuck art period.

ah, sorry, i’ve fallen back into what i like, but bear with me here for a moment, i need to praise HSBC too to gear up to some criticisms — i really like some of the stuff HSBC has shifted along since starting back up, including some of the changes. i also laud their commitment to keeping a lot of the really controversial elements of THE/HS2 because i think fan-approval seeking retcons would’ve been a bad move. that being SAID, there *are* a few things they’ve somewhat backpedaled on, and i think they are really weak. particularly, the Kanaya/Rose fight may be tasty, but i think it undermines the contextual reason it was skipped over, which is because the narrative is damaging their ability to challenge stuff that is “out of character”; it’s something John notices even. i don’t mind the conflict eventually coming up, it makes sense, but it felt thrown in there to appease some of the more inane criticisms of the comic. my other thing is that some of the changes they’re making to Vriska are… well, i haven’t read it. so i shall hold my tongue. but i’m really worried they’re making her more palatable & straight-forward in an attempt to make her more likeable or give her an arc that, imo, is antithetical to what is interesting about the character? but… again. i haven’t actually read it all myself, and it’s not all out yet, so it’s hard to say.

i really, really hope that the Beyond Canon team hires some transfeminine writers, however. to my knowledge they currently don’t, and when your main cast includes a depressed egg, a traumatised and violent trans woman, & a sex addict cis woman with a huge dog dick as some of the principle & most iconic characters, it might be time to hire a trans woman to help? keep things? on track???

so yeah. less fan-appeasing retcons & hire some trans women.

[sunnydbd]

some fanart of HEAT STROKE! by @zorno-graphic on ao3 + 3L!Scar

text in second pic: You're a messy eater

uncensored link : ❤︎︎

twt : @ sunnybutlame

the rest of this post is just yapping abt the fic,, so light spoilers for heat stroke!

ngl im super nervous posting this and idk why??(i do, its bc im tagging the author..)

anyway, i didnt think this fic would ever be finished as the months went on and rolled over into next year but then i got the email notification and nearly screamed(yes that is embarrassing to admit..)

i cant, and probably could never, fully explain the sheer amount of detail that zorn put into this fic(and also the other fic ive read from them, Tweetheart, which is my roman empire) youll get more insight, and far less rambling brain slurry from the recesses of my animal brain, if you read both the fic and the comments as discussions on there are far more introspective citing direct quotes from the fic also have great author feedback, the rest of this post is something i wanted to note

the fic is riddled with contrasting elements(im mostly focusing on chapter 2 when i say this as its fresh in my mind) like in the descriptors, monologue, and characterization. 

comparatively Grian’s and Scar’s characters are complete opposites, Grian’s invasive to intimacy and outright tries to deny it(trying to physically leave their house) while Scar is the one who initiates the intimacy and craves vulnerability(not saying Grian doesnt initiates anything between the two just that Scar is less repressed.)

a similar example of this is in the sex scenes, the inherent intimacy of sex and how Grian acts during(practically begging sometimes) is contradictory to his established character, standoffish(once again im directing you to the comments as lovely user sheepfriend and zorn have a great conversation further explaining Grian’s character better than i am) while Scar is so delightfully pathetic and almost takes a submissive role(??) which is against his confident demeanor throughout the fic(dunno know where else to mention this but i love the uses of dog imagery for Scar its just so good, mwah chef kiss)

 in Grian’s inner monologue he feels remorse when looking at the scars hes caused on Scar’s body but then later on, still in his inner monologue, revels in the fact that hes left his physical mark on Scar(again reading those comments from sheepfriend and zorn give far more insight) 

water and thirst is often used as a metaphor for desire in the more intimate scenes, "Water sidling up to the hard coast that is Scar’s body, the firm landing strip of bones.”, “He’s thirsty, he realizes, the withering curling need gathering on his tongue and down his throat.” this imagery is very contrasting to their environment, which is a desert, and also to the catalyst of the fic, Grian’s heat(in an etymologic sense rather than in the context of the fic)

theres in fact no thesis statement to this long post aside from the fact that zorn loves the use of contrast(thats the entirety of the 2cents i wanted to chip in,) but if you want a far better explanation of the insane rambling i just wrote i direct you to this lovely post by zorn from his blog ! i recommend if you havent read HEAT STROKE!(or Tweetheart because its good !!) you should read the fic first and then the post as it really puts the vibe you get throughout both fics into words❤︎︎❤︎︎

honestly zorn's writings have greatly influenced my writing and(when i first read Tweetheart) got me back into writing, their writing style is so good and is chalk-full of detail and care i truly cant recommend their works enough or put it into words(which is why this paragraph is so rambling,,)the sheer amount of creativity and detail in every aspect of his fics❤︎︎❤︎︎

also, didnt know where else to mention it, i love the way zorn writes Grian's and Scar's dynamic(like?? hellofjdkj???)

i have no idea if this makes any sense i havent slept in hours and its catching up to me,,.

[myillusions]

Noisy Sunday (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: You've entered a mindset you're unsure how to come back from, your own emotions drowning you in a pool of despondency. Joel is there, trying to help you pull away from it.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: HEAVYYY angst, fluff, cursing, large descriptions of depression, anxiety, dark thoughts, comfort, undefined age gap (reader is of age), kind of dark themes its very somber

A/N: hi hi!! oh my, im so sorry i havent posted in so long. life has been so busy lately with exams and work, but here's this whilst i struggle with that and writers block! sorry (not rlly) that its so angsty, THANK YOU SO MUCH to anyone who reads, i hope u enjoy lovelies! also please please PLEASE i cannot stress this enough; if any of the warnings i've stated make you uncomfortable, please DO NOT read this!! and for anyone who may need to talk, my messages are always open <33

It’s peculiar, you think. How it eats away at you, gnawing down against supple flesh when you’ve already been forcefully spiralled onto the floor. Most say it’s like greeting an old friend; and you agree. It’s almost like reuniting with a family member whom you rarely see at a gathering. The one which then continue to pester you with inquiries you don’t have the vigour to answer. 

It comes in a moment. Sometimes for no reason at all. It reminds you of the subject which stops your musical theatre production mid-way, shining a glaring light towards you whilst you stare wide-eyed back; a deer caught in the headlights. Your character starts to break down around you whilst you’re stood onstage, its pieces cascading along your incapacitated physique like thrashing water which you’ve just dived into from a twenty-foot jump, limbs flailing by your head until the inevitable crash through the translucent liquid stings at your skin.

It attaches itself like a shadow to you, not always so visible yet constantly looming from around your shoulder. It never really made sense to you, how the more the light shines against this tenebrosity, the darker the shadow it casts. Shading you. Smothering you. A copiously adamant fire which refuses to be extinguished, its embers dancing up past the hillocks perched in the distance and threatening to singe anyone who comes near.

It made you yearn for a reposeful night, where the stars shimmered like pools of water in reflection to the sea rather than your own tears surging down your cheeks. Where a modest zephyr tapped gently at your swaying hair, twirling locks around its invisible finger gingerly. Where the whole world paused on its axis, bringing forth those few moments of pure solace. Nothing to bother you, and nothing for you to bother.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” A husky voice drawls out from beside you after the door to the front patio squeals open on its hinges, revealing Joel; adorned in his sleepwear of blue plaid print trousers and a black long-sleeved sweater. Considering his normal attire of worn-down jeans and a permanent scowl, he looked almost ridiculous, but in an admiring sort of way. His inquiry forcefully dragged you from the dazed state you had found yourself caught in, your eyes hauling themselves to face him laboriously slow, like it was strenuous to do so. You blinked a multitude of times to attempt to clear your head of its cloudiness.

You gave a harsh swallow before you even attempted to reply, “Not long. I just needed some water and air.” You lied right through your teeth, wincing towards the factor that a glass of water was sitting idly beside you on a tall and round wooden coffee table, still full to the brim with the reflecting liquid. Joel didn’t look convinced. To be honest, you had maybe caught a total of eight hours of sleep in the past three or four days, if lucky. Your body drums with craving for rest at the deprivation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to relax for long enough to lull into even a light rest, thoughts striking their way through forcefully in the canvas of your head, ripping downwards to leave their mark fiercely, consistently reminding you that pain is not an easy thing to ignore.

If you could say the apocalypse surfacing has brought you anything, it’s that it’s made you tired. So tired. But there are two types of tired, you suppose; one is a dire need of sleep, the other is a woeful need for peace.

Joel exhales past his nose harshly, his head dipping downwards for a moment, maybe in disappointment- you’re not sure. Either way, your stomach lurches with guilt, and you turn your head to face forward once again and pay rigorous attention to each detail lining the Jackson street in front of your given accommodation. The street was entirely empty, the only sound to be heard within earshot being the light whisk of the breeze against your supple skin, reddening the tip of your nose and turning your fingertips numb. You should’ve guessed Joel wouldn’t believe your white lie. Knowing him, he likely noticed you retracting the sheets from your legs and his arms strewn around your waist at just the start of the night, before tiptoeing down the stairs as quietly as possible to weave through the kitchen then to the front patio, where you have been set for a couple of hours now.

You’re both silent for multiple pregnant pauses, and you have to fight the urge to nibble nervously against your bottom lip, apprehension swirling within your chest.

“Do you want to come back to bed?” Joel tries cautiously, to which you visibly tense. You tilt your chin downwards dubiously, before giving an almost indistinguishable shake of your head from side-to-side.

Joel doesn’t give a response to your discreet answer, but instead pushes himself forwards from where he’s leaned against the doorframe to move past you and settle against the uncomfortable wooden chair opposite your own. The chair creaks as he perches himself there, the only intruding sound to the tranquillity before it swallows you both whole once again, thudding against the thin air which is gradually turning palpable. It’s suffocating.

“…Would you-“ He starts, his gaze turning upwards from the patios surface to face you, “Want to talk about it?”

Your heart throbs agonisingly at his offer, your fingertips tracing the wrecked linen material of your pants. You try a small, consoling smile, one that barely reaches your eyes; your head lifting to face him.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You murmur back, sombrely. You weren’t fibbing about this, though. There was no explanation as to why you were feeling this surge of perplexing emotions. It appeared as if it were just a protruding root sticking awkwardly out from the soiled terrain, its only task to trip and surprise anyone who were unfortunate to tread along. Even if you wanted to talk with Joel about it, you weren’t sure how to put it into words. It’s fine, until it’s not; a surprise.

“I can’t help you if you won’t let me.” Joel speaks, his voice softer than usual, as though he was afraid for what your reaction would be.

You bottom lip purses as you bite down against your tongue roughly, almost drawing blood to quarrel against the melancholy rising in your throat. You’re not sure how to reply- you don’t wish to reply. You would rather descend into the quietude than face this situation. It’s not that you liked the silence, no- you actually despised it. Silence gave any thoughts swirling around the midst of your head permission to inflate and rise to the surface, bobbing up and down there, whilst its limbs helplessly thrash around, wishing to get back to shore.

It's only after you notice that Joel is still peering over at you expectantly do you swallow gratingly, opening your mouth to answer.

“Well, I- It’s not anything, I’m fine-“

“Why can’t you just stop for once in your life?”

“What?” You ask, your voice cracking at its edges. Your brows shoot upwards at his words, taken aback.

“You lie to me, act like you’re okay- when you’re so clearly not and you won’t even let yourself realise that you need help.” He speaks sternly, eyes firmly trained on you- whilst you can’t even meet his gaze, eyesight shifting to anywhere but where he’s sat opposite you.

You weigh over your words, a trepidatious lump forming inside your throat. Your vision blurs at its corners, your brain fogging over with despondency.

“Please don’t make me say it.” You eventually speak again, your voice strained painfully, as your head drops down in a swaying motion, defeated.

Joel doesn’t reply, but instead reaches forward, gently placing his hand atop your own where its set against your thigh. He gives a gentle squeeze, urging you to blink back up towards him, where he’s peering at you with a softened gaze; and you can’t fight off the tears that instantaneously build up against your vision, attempting to rip past your shields and barriers which are gradually toppling down around you.

“I am barely holding on.” You admit, your shoulders slumping forward with the heaved effort of speaking without letting a cry rip through in interruption, causing a few teardrops to plunge down the canvas of your cheeks. A harrowing headache thrums against your forehead, your field of view only worsening, but not enough that you can’t see the way that Joel’s expression is overcome with visible empathy, which only results in making your stomach lurch more.

“And I-“ You exhale sharply, “And I can’t even tell you why. I just- there’s this thing, and it’s weighing over my shoulders. I can’t shake it.”

“You don’t have to find the perfect words. Just tell me what you’re feeling. I’m here.” He encourages softly.

“It’s like- like I’m here, but I’m not. I’m away from my body, watching over myself; whilst continuously being dragged backwards by this unknown force- pushing me somewhere I think I know. It’s like déjà vu, when you walk into a room, and you don’t where you know or remember it from, but you can feel that you recognise it. I-I’m angry, I’m sad and I’m confused. Maybe I just have a built-up resentment against the world.” You speak rather sullenly, but try to mask it with a small, tight-lipped smile towards Joel once your brief monologue comes to an end.

“I can’t say I know exactly what you’re feeling. But… I don’t want you to push me away. I want to try and help you, in any way that I can. But I can’t if you won’t allow me to. And… I don’t want it to seem like I’m tryin’ to coddle you, or anythin’. It’s because- y’know, I care about you.” Joel speaks steadily, his gaze shimmering with uncertainty.

Your heart lurches downwards in repentance with his words, as though you were liable for your own shifting thoughts and feelings. It bruises you; how much you’ve allowed your emotions to take hold, guiding the wheel in a swerve as rubber burns against asphalt distastefully. How far you’ve come, just to end up here. You know you need help. You’re just unsure how to accept any. But you know that you wish to breathe again. To hold out a hand to loved ones. To be afraid of death again. To have excitement at the idea of different winding roads. To feel free as a light breeze washes against your skin, clearing any distress from you in a wave. You wish to dream again. This longing is what powers your words onwards, as you peer over at Joel, vulnerable,

“I need help.”

Joel’s hand raises from the back of your palm, and instead encompasses your icy fingers with his warmer ones, intertwining them. He searches your eyes for a moment, and once he discovers a bold outline of authenticity, he promptly nods towards you.

“Together?”

“Together.” You reply.

It evokes a memory of a familiar oak tree. One you were very accustomed to when you were younger, before the outbreak. As a child, you used to wonder down the street to the park perched at the end after every school day. Outlining the grounds, just opposite a wooden bench, was an oak tree. Tall and mighty; confidence resonating from its stance, daring anyone to meddle with it. Thick arms branching from its moss-coated wood, whilst the lime-coloured leaves bundled against each other cascaded the surrounding distance in shade. You would lay beneath it, basking in the frigid yet reassuring atmosphere it created, hair messily sprawled out around your head. You would frequently come to the spot to just rest within the constant spiralling of the world, watching as the tree’s features changed with the reoccurring seasons; its leaves shifting from green to gold, from gold to ginger, then from ginger to cherry, and then falling, oscillating down to the soil with the wind, before repeating its cycle. It was almost soothing, watching its colours shift around with the change of the earth, whilst resolutely remaining staunch in its attitude, its branches a prime symbol of vigour. Changing, but still remaining what it is; strong. You deeply envied that, and hoped- wished, that someday you would build yourself up to resemble that oak tree.

"We drink the poison our minds pour for us and wonder why we feel so sick." - Atticus

Noisy Sunday - Patrick Watson

Comments and feedback are appreciated!

[priceforrottenjudgement]

Ive seen a lot of bitching about hotd in the tag, which surprised me bc there was none of this two weeks ago and now all these ppl are acting like season 2 sucks and its badly written and its rewriting the books and bla bla. This surprised me, so i did a little snooping

Like. First off, isnt grrm consulting them this time? I know he was doing it for s1 and im sure i read he was doing s2 too. I cant say anything about bad writing, tbh i havent examined it that closely bc nothing about pacing or dialogue has bothered me enough to spend time thinking about it.

The "its not like the book!!!" Thing really bothers me though bc have you read the book? Lmao im not so sure bc some of the stuff you complain about is so weird, also how did you miss that fire & blood has deeply unreliable narrators? It literally says gyldayn is an unreliable narrator on the Wikipedia, hes taking a bunch of biased sources and kind of patches the history of house targaryen together. If you had read the book, youd KNOW that it isnt a definitive chronicle and stuff was likely altered, embellished and left out. Some of the alterations make sense, because why would some maester know about these ppls private lives. Fire and blood is full of propaganda, rumours and bias. Also the stuff that WAS changed isnt really that deep? I really like the change to the rhaenicent dynamic (ill come back to this, theres a reason ppl seem to hate this change lmao), i dont care about maelor and the nettes changes dont bother me that much? (Some ppl are convinced rhaena will get the ENTIRE nettles storyline. Which would indeed suck cough cough, but i dont think thats where theyre going at all lmao)

So i took a look at some of the other opinions of ppl who really really HATE s2 and, WOOOOOOWWWWW,there sure is a lot of homophobia on the yuri Website huh? All of a sudden it makes sense why these ppl popped up 2 weeks ago huh? (And why theyre so bitchy about the changes to alicents character not being a wicked stepmother but more of an... almost lover) Wow, what a fucking pathetic reason to be a hater. Awww nooooooooo this female character is kissing women noooo, theyre ruined!! Even though the relationship was kind of maybe sort of a little implied in the book. (Granted the book talks about a close relationship between rhaenyra, mysaria and DAMON, but see above for rumours and inaccuracies) Also there are a lot of ppl who were genuinely Team green (i did not realise those ppl existed unironically, gonna be honest) who are mad that Team green is portrayed more negatively than Team black and apparently thats unfair. Yeah, idk what to say about that, do you always expect to opposing sides of a fictional conflict to be treated the same and to be equally good and justified? Granted, the "pick a side" Marketing was dumb and encouraged this sort of thinking, but those two teams are not equal lol you can still like the characters even though theyre cheaters, usurpers and Bad ppl.

If you had genuinely read and UNDERSTOOD the books and that theyre full of propaganda you would understand why SOME PPL are either portrayed more positively or more negatively in the show than they were in the book. Just consider WHO was writing the history for one sec.

Yeah, rant over, this was just too ridiculous not to get off my chest.

Like yeah, you can criticise some of the changes and the simple fact that 8 ep seasons are SHIT for building a plot, but considering some ppl call an ep "filler" just because nobody got roasted by a dragon, maybe we dont deserve 20 ep seasons with a slow building of plot and tension anymore....

[kuni-kuun]

hey uh, consider:

Dazai was an immortal. He thought that if lost the one he loved, he'd never be sworn to another and grieve for the rest of his life and yet- Over and over again, he'd keep finding reincarnations. Again and again, he experienced love and heartbreak. Painful, so incredibly painful, but he loved them. He did it anyways.

They could never remember him. Only a warm sense of familiarity, bits and pieces of past lives and fleeting memories. And yet, they'd always fall in love. Always.

The blond haired man with golden grey eyes, who loved to wear dark shirts and enjoyed the sunlight on his skin, and how he liked tea over coffee. Dazai knew him in and out, countless years of living with reincarnation after reincarnation, many many lives. He looked the same, every life. But his name would change, sometimes he had a beauty mark, sometimes he had teeth a little sharper than normal

Dazai found him again. The man was walking somewhere, a bag packed full of files sat on his shoulder.

In this life, he was wearing glasses. His golden hair was tied into a low ponytail, just like he always did. Dazai knew that this was him. Another lifetime, another him. The name was different, but the personality was the same.

The files on his shoulder were an indication of his job, he obviously worked for some kind of office. (sorry for the long post/ask lmao) also: some past life ideas? idk [a photographer named Masaru (last life)] He took each picture from his partner- his past lover, and looked them over. Each one was beautiful. He had never been to these places in this life, but he felt a strange pang of nostalgia. Pictures of the landscapes, of the mountains and oceans, of the fields and cities, of the shrines and the docks. Some of them had Dazai in them. Smiling, laughing, posing. Some were at his house. Not this life- but the past. He couldn't remember it at all, but it felt right at home. A longing for a home he never lived in.

[a band singer/guitarist (bcs band au rocks, last last last? life) named Kazuya] He flipped one of the photographs. The date was scrawled in pencil on the back. 1947. The photo was of Kunikida's birthday. The name on the cake read 'Kazuya'.

"A while back too..." "This must be from a second, maybe third lifetime ago." He looked closer at the background. A guitar lay in the corner, a drumset glimmered in the dim lighting. "A band?"

"You were quite the charmer, weren't you?" Dazai chuckles, thinking of how often Kazuya charmed his audiences with his music, voice and stage presence.

"... You had the crowd eating out of your hands at your concerts- they loved you."

anyways i am dumping stuff on you now (you don't have to do anything, i just like talking) (sorry again for bothering you) (there's so much text here you get a stroke) (i suffer from 'won't shut up' syndrome and i think that's why i have no friends) (i understand if you literally don't want to read this lmao)

OKAY the REAL reason why i havent gotten around to posting this ask is because I WANTED TO DRAW SOMETHING FOR IT 😭😭 BUT I NEVER GOT AROUND TO... I was so shocked whilw reading it i wanted to make something for it so badly but now it got buried ... ueueue im sorry

BUT ANYWAYS oh my GOODNESS ur writing. Im so. Woahf..the descriptions and the scenes you set up is so good wosg.. i have a bad track record w reincarnation aus bro the past ones i read made me CRY and break down anrd roll around i cant survive thjs one too . Whatevr . Im normal i

[silverbridge-harbor]

Celebrimbor's Letter to Durin IV

A Tengwar Analysis

ayyy first time doing something like this, so it might suck but lets goooooo

My credentials are here.

In Rings of Power s02e02, Celebrimbor sends a letter to Durin. The first thing to note is that it is written in the "full writing" Beleriand style, where vowels are written as separate characters instead of diacritics. This is correct for second-age Elven writing in Eriador. Points there.

When I watched the episode, I was expecting this to be Sindarin, but it is actually English, transliterated phonetically. This means they are using a phonetic English full mode based on the Sindarin mode of Beleriand. Tolkien had a couple of these, but as far as I can tell, they came up with this one themselves. But it was done a bit...oddly.

First off, here it is as plain Standard English™, in ASCII:

Durin IV, I humbly request your attendance in Eregion, that I might present a new offer for the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. Despite your recent misfortunes, I believe your ears are best suited to listen to this proposition. My people are in your debt, and I...

Okay, mostly ASCII. But anyway, this is what the letter says. No need to obsess over it and spend several hours dissecting it and writing a deep analysis.

...Unless?

Lets number the lines.

Now, lets go through it line by line, phonetically. I will be using the Quenya names for the tengwar given on Amanyë Tenceli.

1: Durin 4,

Not all that much to say yet. Note the doubled stem on the first tengwa, Ando. This is comparable to the ornate first letters in illuminated manuscripts, and does not change anything. It looks a bit like a friend we will meet in a moment, though, so it was worth mentioning.

They didnt use a dot or ring to mark the 4 as a number, but since its a single digit below 10, no big deal.

2: ai hambly rikwest yór (I humbly request your)

So this suddenly became a mess. But, actually, not really; remember, this is a phonetic transcription, so strictly speaking, anything goes, as long as it sounds right when you read it back out.

The first thing I noticed was the tehta on the last word, the rightward hook. That is the O-tehta, used to mark a consonantal tengwa with a preceding or following O-vowel...something a full mode is specifically supposed to not be doing. Here, it is over Anna, which also represents an o in the Beleriand mode. So I figured it was standing for a lengthened ó, but in a weird way similar to how diphthongs are written. Then I saw the same tehta over Úrë on a later line, and realized: the way to lengthen a vowel in the Beleriand mode is to use an andatehta. This is usually the E-tehta, which looks like an acute accent. Here, they simply swapped that out for the more interesting looking O-tehta. I havent seen this before, but I like it. Sauron did something vaguely similar, using the O-tehta in the ring inscription to represent U-vowels in the Black Speech.

Lets talk about those ys. That tengwa is Ára, which is used for a consonantal i, in words like iâth and iorhael. Basically, think of it as a J in Latin. (I am having trouble digging up my old source on this, but the transcriptions on Eldamo seem to agree with me.) The point is, as a consonant, Ára fits perfectly for "your", but doesnt really make sense for "humbly". The Beleriand Sindarin mode already has a vocalic y, using Silmë Nuquerna; it represents a vowel we do not even have in English, so there would be no conflict to simply repurpose it for this. Ára was an odd choice.

3: itendins in eregion, (attendance in Eregion,) 4: dhaet ai mait prezent i (that I might present a)

Here it gets weird. The first i on line 3 and the last on 4, both Telco, both represent what was originally a. A few things could be happening here.

In the Classical mode, for Quenya, Telco is a carrier mark, with no sound of its own. Additionally, the A-tehta can be dropped where it can be assumed, because it is both the most common vowel in Quenya and the most complicated tehta to write. Because of these two facts, a lone Telco can be read as an A-vowel. But this is a different mode for a different language. I hope this isnt what they were going for.

They may be using Telco to represent Schwa. This fits perfectly for these two occurrences, and several other lines, but I would expect it to also be used, for example, in "hambly" above and "av" below.

It could be an indeterminate vowel, essentially meaning "figure it out yourself". This seems feasible, to me; this is the default in many languages, including Khuzdûl, and the letter is being written to a Dwarf, after all. But also, the letter is being written to a Dwarf, by an Elf. This is a diplomatic letter. An indeterminate vowel seems a bit too...casual? for this context.

The ae diphthong in "dhaet"/"that" is a bit odd too, but it might be based on IPA [æ], the vowel in "that".

5: nú ófir fór dhi dwórvz (new offer for the Dwarves) 6: av khazaddúm. (of Khazad-dûm.)

I appreciate "khazaddúm" being run together like this. Fun fact: the hyphens in names (like this and "Gil-galad") are for our benefit only; they are not used when writing with the Tengwar (at least as far as I have ever seen, but I cant afford the really good sources like Vinyar Tengwar and Parma Eldalamberon).

Also note the use of Quessë for kh. This is very strange. First, the Beleriand mode does not use tengwar from the quessetéma (fourth column), except for Wilya, so this use of Quessë was added for the show. Secondly, the Beleriand mode already has a tengwa that represents this sound: Aha (or Harma).

However, Aha is usually romanized as ch, instead of kh. It may be that the transliterator was working from a character table, saw "ch", assumed it to represent [tʃ] (as in English) instead of [x], and decided to repurpose an unused tengwa.

7: dispait yór ryisint (Despite your recent) 8: mysfórchinz, ai bylyiv (misfortunes, I believe)

Ope, here we go using Ára as a vowel again.

Wait...what? Why are you using Ára, which you are already using as a Y-vowel, with the Y-tehta? Treating that as a diphthong like ai, it turns out as yi. What is this? Is this supposed to be like "Kyiv"? Is this even still the same person as the first half?

EDIT 2024-09-03: Skimming over this again, they did indeed use Aha here to represent [tʃ], the English value of ch, and I totally missed the connection. I guess I was distracted by this yi business. Anyway, this shows that they were at least aware of Aha, and most likely did see it labelled as "ch". I am okay with the idea of reassigning it, as it is in one of the three primary témar in the mode, and English does use [tʃ] vastly more than [x]. But, as mentioned below, Hwesta is used for [x] in Gondor, so I would have simply borrowed that, rather than arbitrarily assigning Quessë. That might be slightly anachronistic, though.

Also, @tragedykery in the replies has pointed out that the vowel /iː/ can become the diphthong [ɪj] in certain situations in Celebrimbor's accent (thanks :D), which may have been the intent behind the Ára diphthong I interpret as yi. This also fits well with ae representing [æ].

9: yór yrz or best sútyd (your ears are best suited)

"OR"??? ...Okay, I see what happened here, actually. Anna looks like ɑ (and its name even starts with an A), but in the Beleriand mode, it actually represents an O-vowel. This one was most likely just a proofreading slip.

Gonna have to put Ára up on the high shelf soon, though. You know, the high shelves? The ones who have seen the light of the coat trees.

10: tú lysin tú dhys (to listen to this) 11: propizyʃin. mai pyipil (proposition. My people)

Here they used Hwesta to represent, presumably, [ʃ]. This is another repurposed tengwa from the quessetéma. This one, however, does not already have an equivalent in this mode. Fair play.

Incidentally, Hwesta is directly adjacent to Aha on the chart, and is itself used to represent [x] in the mode of Gondor.

"Pyipil" is very strange. But then, so is "people". And so are people.

12: or yn yor det, ind ai (are in your debt, and I)

This is the last line, with the bottom cut off, but I think this is right, looking at the line weights. Featuring the return of our friend "or".

Vocalic Ára aside, "yn" is very interesting, because "in" has already shown up, way back on line 3. I really do wonder whether they had two people on this.

Also interesting is "yor", without a long vowel. This one is definitely just a simple proofreading mistake.

Overall, I would say this is...decent. Again, it is a phonetic transcription, and it is 100% legible. From that angle, mission accomplished. I do wish they had written it in Sindarin, or, failing that, defined a more comprehensive and consistent Beleriand English mode to work from.

And of course, this still absolutely puts Shadow of War to shame.

Finally, here is the full actual text of the letter, in the Tengwar, according to the character mapping of the Free Tengwar Font Project. I have absolutely no idea how Tumblr is going to respond to this. For science :D

                                            

Ah. Looks like thats the same Unicode block Tumblr uses for their own custom characters. So its probably not worth it to try to get Tumblr to use a Tengwar font, because it would break other stuff. Should be able to paste that mess into a compatible text editor and look at it there, though, so I will leave it in.