#it was a good thing i practiced with this first before doing any important half-decent inking!!!

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

Looking forward to October...

[puckinghischier]

Mornings

quinn hughes x fem!reader

WARNING - SMUT! minors DNI. 18+. unprotected sex, fingering, p in v, basically smut with no plot

summary - quinn wakes up with a need to go slow n steady

notes - i have officially launched into writing for quinn and there’s no turning back now. i hope this is at least decent bc when it comes to writing smut, i feel like i’m always being too repetitive and not descriptive enough, so don’t yell at me if it’s bad 🫣. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and as always, happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request - soft morning sex with quinn

[2.3k]

Quinn has always been a morning person. He loves the feeling of being up before the sun, feeling like he has the world to himself. He loves being able to sneak out for a quick run, getting back in time to cook breakfast and make your coffee before you wake up. Sometimes he even loves just sitting beside of you as you sleep, reading or going over plays that he knows they’ll be working on in practice that day.

This morning? This morning he wants none of that. This morning he woke up to the sun peeking through the curtains of your shared room, way later than he intended, with one thing on his mind.

Forget a run, forget breakfast, forget hockey. All Quinn wanted this morning was you.

Last night the two of you attended a party hosted by the team at the rink. A fundraiser for some charity he can’t even remember at the moment.

What he can remember is the way you looked in your dress last night. From the second you walked out of your large walk-in closet yesterday, he wanted nothing more than to see the dress draped across the floor, but a few too many old fashions throughout the night caused an instant crash as soon as his head hit his pillow when the two of you got home last night.

His body very obviously didn’t forget how he felt last night, though. Which is very apparent right now.

Your body is slotted perfectly into his, his arms entrapping you and holding you as close to his body as he can. Even though you’re facing away from him, he can tell you’re not awake yet, your breaths steady and even. The observation made him think about having you just like that, slow and steady.

Readjusting his position, trying give a little relief to his aching dick, he hears your sharp inhale.

“Quinn, I haven’t even opened my eyes yet and you’re already horny and ready to go,” you grumble out, still half asleep.

Quinn lets out a low chuckle. “What can I say, baby? Can’t stop thinking about how good you looked last night.”

He brings his face down to give a light kiss to the back of your neck, bringing an arm up to move your sleep tousled hair over your shoulder.

You sigh at the feeling of his warm lips on your skin as they move away from your neck and down to your newly exposed shoulder.

Involuntarily, you scoot back to press your ass into him, causing a groan to ring out around you two.

“Don’t tease me now, baby, s’not nice,” he mumbles against your skin.

“Who says I’m teasing? Maybe I saw something I liked last night too,” you turn your body around to face him, hooking a leg over his hips, bringing your core closer to his.

His eyes lock onto yours, searching for any hint that you’re teasing him.

When he sees nothing but desire in your eyes, he closes the space between your lips, capturing yours in a searing kiss.

He grinds against you, tangling his hands in your hair. When he tries to deepen the kiss, you pull back in protest.

“I haven’t even brushed my teeth, let me go at least brush them before we do this,” you try to untangle yourself from his body, but his grip on you tightens, preventing you from moving further away.

“Not important,” he tells you, bringing you back in for another kiss.

This kiss was much slower than the first, the two of you simply savoring each other.

“Wanna take m’time with you,” Quinn mumbles against your lips, removing his hand from your hair to slip the strap of your silk tank top off of your shoulder.

Your response was a content sigh, feeling his hand slip under your tank top to fondle your breast.

“Just take it off, Q” you whisper, wanting the fabric gone.

He breaks the kiss long enough to remove your clothing, pressing his bare skin against your own.

You shift your position, laying your back flat on the bed and pulling him to hover over you.

Quinn lifts his head up, admiring your body, nothing but love in his eyes.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that? Don’t know how I ever got so lucky,” he speak softly, bringing a hand up to caress your stomach.

His words still make you blush, even after all this time. You move to bring your hands up to hide your flushed face.

“Nuh uh, no hiding that pretty face. Wanna see it always. Never wanna look at anything else,” he tells you, grabbing both of your hands in his large one, bringing them up to rest above your head. “Keep them there f’me, yeah?”

He trails the same hand down your body for a second time, this time letting it travel all the way down to the waistband of your shorts.

You gasp as he slides his hand under the waistband, his long fingers making contact with your clit.

“Especially wanna see your face when I’m doing this,” he slides his fingers down further, feeling the wetness coat his fingers. “God you’re soaking, baby. Guess I’m not the only one who woke up feeling needy.”

You inhale sharply, your mouth forming an ‘o’ when he slips a finger inside of you, pumping it in and out lazily.

“Can’t help it. You looked incredible in your suit last night. Even had a dream about it,” you gasped out, itching to thread your fingers through his hair, but keeping them above your head like he asked.

Quinn lets out a groan when he feels you clench around his fingers, bringing his thumb up to rub slow circles on your clit.

He notices your hands twitching as you squirm, deciding he wants to feel your hands on him.

“You can move your hands, pretty girl. Since you’re behaving so good,” he tells you as he adds another finger.

The second the words leave his mouth your hands are in his hair, tangling and twisting the strands around your fingers.

The strokes of his fingers are slow and steady, the pace driving you wild.

“Q, I need you. Need more,” you beg him.

“Uh-uh, told you I wanted to take my time with you. Need you to come nice and slow from my fingers before I give you anything else,” he picks up the pace just slightly.

You whine in protest, wanting to feel him.

Quinn circles your clit faster, but keeps the slow pace of his fingers. The contrast of the two paces causes the familiar knot to form deep in your stomach.

You remove one of your hands from Quinn’s hair to toy with your nipple, the added stimulation inching you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“There we go, get yourself there pretty girl,” Quinn rasps out, enjoying the sight of you underneath him.

His words aid in your impending release, always loving how vocal he is during sex.

He feels you clench around his fingers again, knowing you’re close to exploding.

“C’mon, just let go for me, baby. Show me how much you enjoy my fingers,” is all Quinn has to say before you’re seeing stars.

Your orgasm doesn’t match the slow motion of his fingers, your legs shaking as he rides you through the aftershocks.

Quinn removes his fingers from you, fully sitting up on his knees and bringing them up to his mouth and sucking them clean. The sight makes you fear another orgasm without even being touched.

As you lay there and recover for a few seconds, all you can think about is how badly you want to feel his dick inside of you.

“Please, Q, need to feel you inside of me,” you whine out, causing him to chuckle at your desperation.

“Well, who am I to deny a pretty girl what she wants?” he responds, lowering himself down to press a light kiss to your lips, moving a strand of hair out of your face.

You bring both hands up to rest on his neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss, trying to show him just how badly you want him.

He meets your kiss with just as much enthusiasm, moving his hands to remove your shorts and underwear altogether.

You kick the pieces of clothing off of your feet, removing your hands from his neck to help him remove his own.

Once you’re both completely bare, you reach a hand down between the two of you, wrapping your hand around his hard dick, giving it a few strokes.

Quinn’s hips involuntarily buck forward, driving his cock further into your closed fist.

“Slow down, pretty girl. Told you I wanted to take my time with you. Won’t last if you keep touching me like this,” he grunts out, trying to keep some form of self-control.

He removes your hand from himself, replacing it with his own. He nudges your legs apart, bringing a finger to your entrance once again, collecting the arousal still dripping from you and spreading it around the tip of his dick, closing his eyes and shuddering at the feeling of your wetness on him.

“Remember, baby, slow and steady wins the race,” Quinn tells you as he guides himself into you inch by inch.

You cry out at the feeling, still sensitive from your first orgasm only minutes ago.

“Shit, you’re so tight. Always so tight,” Quinn hisses out, teeth clenched.

“Oh my god, Q, you feel so good. Needed this, needed you,” you whine, feeling every ridge and vein as he sets the torturous pace.

He brings his arms up to rest on either side of your head, going full missionary this morning.

Quinn pulls out completely each time before pushing back in, reminding himself with every stroke that he’s supposed to be going slow and savoring you.

“Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this. Swear I’d stay here forever. Spend every second of every day between your legs like this. With my dick, my fingers, my mouth,” he tells you, earning a moan from you when you feel him twitch inside of you.

The slow, languid pace of his thrusts allows him to feel you in a way he’s usually too impatient for. He finds the soft, spongy spot deep inside of you, earning a moan that almost causes him to lose his composure.

“God, baby, can’t be making those noises like that. Gonna make me lose it,” he tells you, bringing a hand down to toy with your clit once again.

“Can’t help it. Feels too good. Need you to move faster,” you plead, loving the slowness but aching for relief.

He lowers his head, placing hot, open mouth kisses to your neck, keeping his current rhythm.

“Can’t. Enjoying this too much,” he mumbles against your damp skin.

Despite his words, you can feel him lose himself a bit, his thrusts getting just a little faster and sloppier.

All of a sudden he pulls out of you completely, removing his body from over yours. Up until this moment your eyes had been closed, but they snap open at the loss of contact.

Quinn sees your wide eyes and can practically see the whine of protest on your tongue, but he quickly brings himself to lay beside of you, pulling your body back into his.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl, just switching positions for a second,” he explains, lining himself up to your entrance once again, thrusting into you from behind as you lay on your side, opening yourself up to him with a leg slung over his own.

He keeps his same, slow strokes, but the new angle causes him to hit a place you’ve never known to exist until this moment.

“Swear I can feel you in my stomach, Q. Don’t stop. I’m so close,” you tell him, already feeling the coil tighten for the second time this morning.

The clench of your walls around his dick from this angle causes his balls to tighten, his own orgasm quickly approaching.

“Need you to let go before I can, baby. Wanna feel you make a mess all over me, think you can get there again?” he kisses the back of your neck.

Meeting his thrusts, you reach behind you to grab his hand and bring it over to stimulate your clit, needing some relief on the throbbing bundle of nerves.

Quinn presses his fingers down on your clit, hard, causing the bubble to burst inside of you, coming harder than you even had the first time.

“Oh my god, Q, I-“ you get cut off by your own moans, unable to prevent your body from shaking, his fingers still moving on your clit, intensifying the release even further.

The clench of your spent pussy nearly prevents him from pulling his dick out of you to thrust back in, causing such a pleasurable feeling it trigger his own orgasm, hitting him harder than he think he’s ever come before.

His body goes rigid, freezing inside of you with a groan. As you start to come down from your own orgasm, the feeling of his release inside of you brings a new wave of pleasure, knowing you’re the only person that gets to experience this from him.

He stays lodged inside of you long after you’ve both come down from your highs, wanting to stay as close to you as he can possibly be.

You let your fingers stroke the arm that’s slung over your frame, his large hand resting against your stomach.

After a few more minutes he finally slides himself out of you, turning your body to face him, assuming your earlier positions.

He stares at you, admiring the post sex glow on your face with the sun shining through the curtains behind you.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him, wrapping a piece of his hair around your finger, playing with the small curls around his ears.

“How much I love mornings,” he gives you the cheesy line, causing you to laugh so hard you shake the entire bed, causing a large grin to break out on his face, looking forward to spending every morning for the rest of his life with you.

[slafkovskys]

jack x oldestnorris!sibling is too good. he would have to try so hard to win her over

oh, jack hughes is late.

he is so late and she isn’t answering any of the calls he’s screaming at his car to dial. they go straight to voicemail. his pleading texts he had sent before flying out of the practice facility also remain unanswered. he had the brief, fleeting thought to call dalton (her undisputed favorite brother, her baby much to his dismay) but that quickly passed.

why?

because dalton would call josh who would then find jack and end his career prematurely before he even had a chance at a decent playoff run. so no, he would handle this one himself.

oh, how could he be so stupid?

he’s flying down the michigan streets in the direction of the norris family home like a mad man. he curses laws as he tries to stick them because they don’t understand that he finally got a date with the woman he’s been crushing on since he laid eyes on her when josh’s family came to watch their brothers’ first ntdp game eight years ago.

and he’s fucking late.

the sight of the norris’ driveway is a relief and he’s sure that if it were loose gravel, he would have flung half of it based off the speed he was turning in. he catches sight of her, well the back of her, walking up the stairs and she has a hand on the front door when he opens his door and shouts, “y/n, wait! please!”

she looks at him, a look of annoyance and obvious hurt present across her features. she’s dressed up while jack is still donning the same clothes he had worn to train in, not even bothering with the suit he had brought that was hanging in his back seat neatly pressed by his mother for the occasion. his shoulders fall, “please let me explain. i know that i’m late-”

she scoffs, “only by about two hours.”

“i know, but if you would just hear me out,” he’s pleading with her. she stares at him for a moment before leaning against one of the beams on the porch, arms crossed over chest. a breeze sweeps over the two of them, carrying the smell of her perfume to jack. this one’s different then the one she usually wears, the one he had grown to love, to crave. this one was better even and after a whiff, he straightens up and clears his throat, ready to plead his case, “we finished training earlier than we were supposed to and everybody knew about tonight, i swear. they knew how important it was- is to me and that i couldn’t be late.

“one of the trainers for the younger guys asked if we could stay behind a few extra minutes and talk to them. quinn was down and they said it would only take a few minutes and because we finished early, i stayed. i didn’t know they would want us to do some exercises with them, or else i would’ve left. i swear i tried to get out of there every chance i could, but they kept stopping me.

“i know that we’ve already missed our reservation, but if you give me another chance, i can make a mean chicken parm. quinn’s not going to be home tonight and we would have to stop by the store first to get some things because i have nothing to make chicken parm, but i promise you that i can make it worth your while and then some,” he watches her expression the entire time, trying to gauge her reaction to his very true rendition of events. he’s confused when her lips curl up into a smirk.

“quinn called earlier and vouched for you. even got the trainer that held you back on the phone in case i didn’t believe him,” she says as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. jack’s face falls and she grins, “called the house phone and everything begging me not to cancel on you. said you’ve been talking about this all week?”

jack nods quickly because it was the truth. he’d barely shut up about his plans since she’d agreed to them, “that’s right.”

“well, hughes, i would hate for you to go home to an empty house and no food,” she as she pushes away from the beam, making her way down the steps towards him, “but i do have one condition.”

“anything,” the ball was in her court and he was about two seconds from dropping to his knees and begging right in the middle of the subdivision. if that’s what she wanted, jack thought, he would do it.

“you have to take a shower when we get to your house because not even your cuteness can excuse the smell of sweat coming off of you right now,” she raises an eyebrow, “do we have a deal?”

“let’s shake on it, norris,” his hand shoots out and hers meets in the middle. he takes note of her manicure and grins, so she did pick the color he chose. “after you, m’lady.”

he leads her to the car with a light hand on her back and as soon as he shuts her door, there is the sound of someone clearing their throat rather loudly. jack turns his head towards the garage, which is now open and standing in the middle with a hockey stick in hand, looking as menacing as jack had ever seen him, was dwayne norris.

he doesn’t say a word. he doesn’t need to, the look he gives jack was enough to convey everything that her brothers already had. jack nods his head quickly, “yes sir, i understand.”

dwayne gives him a curt nod before shooting a puck into the practice net and jack scrambles to the driver’s side, eager to get away and finally start the night he had been waiting almost a decade for.

part two coming soon!

[goodluckclove]

Migration Patterns - Twelfth Movement Sneak Peek

Spoilers! Decently big? Spoilers in the sense that it does sort of tell you what the fuck is going on in a way none of the characters you've met so far really understand. So if you don't want that avoid this.

But yeah I'm proud of myself because I consider lore a huge weak point so I hope you enjoy this and maybe whisper "ooooh" under your breath.

Eddie Gallows stayed exactly where the doctor left them. They waited – indefinite waiting, tip-of-the-roller-coaster waiting.

It was harder, being alone and all. They understood why it had to be this way. Doc explained that there needed to be a large enough radius around Eddie to ensure that they had any real chance to project the way they wanted to. At first Eddie protested. This was an important mission and maybe Doc’s one chance to express what he’d learned from years of research. Wouldn’t it be better if he was the one to try and share it?

The doctor told him it wasn’t possible. Eddie was the one with the link – however weak – and that indefinite connection was crucial to his plan.

And besides, he assured Eddie. You’re clever as hell. You know what you’re doing. And I didn’t learn half of what I know now until you found me.

Eddie repeated that vote of confidence in their mind over and over, for a good stretch of their initial isolation, until the words threatened to stop making sense. At one point they laid down on the endless expanse of floor, as they used to so often before Doc taught them how to Recall.

From where they were they could see the faint outline of the human shapes hanging above them, some flickering, some drifting in place. The closest thing Eddie had to stars now.

When they first met Eddie asked the doctor if the sight of all those ghostly shapes still scared him. He said they never did. He said the sight made him homesick, which for a long time Eddie didn’t understand.

They got it now.

Eddie pulled themselves up into a sitting position and opened the flap of their school bag. The scent of the leather was vivid in a way that wouldn’t make sense if it wasn’t a product of their memory. There was a tinfoil-wrapped treat from the doctor inside, one of a few he sent them off with. Eddie figured by then they waited enough and deserved to enjoy one, so they pulled apart the shiny silver (It shined too sparkly and crinkled a little too precisely) and revealed what it was preserving.

A large slice of pepperoni pizza – still hot, fresh from a pizzeria in New York that the doctor explained closed years before he ever ended up here.

Even though they had no sense of hunger anymore, the smell of cheese and pork provoked a sort of emotional churning within themselves. They smiled and started to take a bite from the tip, fumbling the huge shape between both hands before remembering what they were taught.

Eddie folded the pizza to better grasp in one hand. They took a moment to enjoy the execution of this novel technique, and the quiet sense of pride that this was something they even knew what to do.

They took a bite and hummed happily. The biggest benefit of their new existence by far was the access to the doctor’s breadth of experiences. His memories were far better than Edgar’s. The food, especially, was infinitely tastier.

Midway into their slice of pizza (The slices were so large in New York. Eddie struggled to process people eating them in one sitting) they felt a pull their recognized so easily. Eddie quickly put the slice and wiped their hands against their pants, awaiting the indistinct manifestation of a different reality forming around them.

It was seeing without seeing. Eddie learned through practice how to recognize things that made sense out of the shape and color. It was hard. It never got less hard.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile when he felt Scott’s presence.

How is it, Goose? He was saying.

Scott mentioned Goose before. Eddie was glad to know she was still around, and happy to hear the affection in Scott’s voice when he spoke to her.

She was farther away. However she answered, Eddie couldn’t make out the words.

That’s good. Can I take my arm out now? The cuff feels a little – oh, okay. Great.

Eddie dug through their bag and pulled out a worn paperback. Another Recall from the doctor. The Ego and the Id was a bound version of the paper published by Sigmund Freud. When Doc first formed it from a handful of the material under their feet he remarked that he “never expected to need this for any real reason”.

He read it over the next hour. Occasionally Eddie noticed him roll his eyes or mutter under his breath. As someone recently and perpetually thirteen, Eddie admired the doctor’s refined ability to glower and angst.

The hundred page were heavily annotated, but Doc said the only ones Eddie needed to study were the lines highlighted in blue and the few lines written on the back cover. What he failed to notice before giving the book was the scraps and post its stuck within the rest of the pages.

Eddie studied. It was important for Eddie to study as much as they could, especially given they had no real way to determine the time in a reality where time still mattered. So they read the Doctor’s summarized thesis on the back cover, burning it into memory.

You have lost your nature, it said. You are losing your foundation. And then, with harsh lines underneath the larger letters, the doctor wrote ESCAPE SYMBIOSIS.

It was a deeply complex issue made as simple as it likely could. It must’ve taken years of study and interpersonal experience in order to make something so frightening sound relatively neutral. The notes in the pages before that reflected a different tone entirely.

Eddie heard Edgar’s voice, which always startled them at first. When his older counterpart spoke the voice was farther, yet it buzzed In Eddie’s throat as if they were the one speaking.

It’s the same as mine, it said. One nineteen over seventy.

Pretty healthy, Scott jested. Doesn’t make much sense for you.

Oh sure. Not compared to yourself, you picture of perfect health.

They were joking. It was wonderful to hear. It hurt Eddie more than the silence ever did or ever could. They focused on their studying, flipping through pages and catching snippets of the doctor’s thesis back when it was far less calmer.

In the first introduction of the three labels Eddie had heard so often, the doctor had made three small notes in the space between lines. Above “superego” was dead, above “ID” was dying, and around the word “ego” was as many question marks as could be legibly fit in.

At the bottom of one page Doc scrawled a hasty equation. “Over-I” is parent. “It” is child. “I” is birthright? And beside that, he wrote, feeling made flesh?

In the corner were some vague words, seemingly connected. Birthright, organs, cells. Academics, virus, parasite. Affiliate, and then, at the end of an arrow beside that word, vaccine?

A few pages later, in the margins. Aspiration pneumonia risk is seventy percent.

There was writing under that, crossed out almost to the point where Eddie couldn’t make out the words. It took some time but they figured it out. He’s not a fucking idiot, the doctor wrote.

That didn’t appear related to what Doc told them to remember. It wasn’t something Eddie could recognize from anything he told them before.

They flipped the page and were startled to see variations of the same single note written, over and over again, all over the twin flaps of faded yellow paper. It was scratched into the sides of paragraphs and cramped above every mention of the word “ego”.

ROT, it said. ROT, ROT, ROT.

Eddie had to close the book after that. The doctor was level-headed most of the time. And when he was struck with frenzy for a stretch of time, he would make a point to ensure Eddie was cared for before separating himself for the time being.

Was this what was he was thinking in the meantime?

Eddie couldn’t think like that. It wasn’t the time, it wasn’t the place – and even if that wasn’t true nothing about that was their place to make theories about. They had to study. They had to remember everything they could.

They allowed themselves another bite of pizza and went back to work.

-

songbird tag hop on hop off

@kuebiko-writing @cartoonghosts 

@atlasthecactus @aroaceghosties 

@booksntea6982 @xarrixii 

@mushroommanchanterelle @whoevenknowswhatimwriting

@fukurouonthesea

[magicalqueennightmare]

Sins & Amends Chapter 45

(Not Adi considering the Reader is non descriptive but this baby is cute af)

Billy Russo x Female Reader (60 part story)

This follows pre- the punisher into the storyline of daredevil, punisher season 1 and beyond

This is NOT Canon Billy. This is decent human being Billy left with bad options over worse decisions

This was also posted to A03 under: WaywardGaPeach. That account and this one is the only place you'll see me post this. If you see it on any other platform/account know it's not me.

Chapter Summary: As Adi's first birthday draws near a new deal is presented from Homeland but no one will sign off on it unless you do

Every day that passed with Adi brought what family you still had closer. Once your maternity leave was over the days that you and Karen both had to work Sarah was more than glad to babysit.

When Frank had time off him and Karen would practically beg you to let her stay over with them. Curtis was always on hand when you needed someone too considering he lived closer to your place than anyone else and even Matt and Foggy would stop by more often.

Whenever she would look up at you with those dark brown eyes of Billy's that you had fell in love with so long before you knew she was twisting you around her little finger even more. She was the best thing that had ever happened to you no matter how she'd come about.

You still got together with Frank, Karen, Curtis, Foggy and Matt but it was now once a week. Sometimes Candance or Marci would come but one thing remained the same, every aunt and uncle would fight for the chance to hold little miss Adi while all of you caught up from the week. 

Frank would relent most times considering him, Karen and Curtis saw her the most but sometimes if he'd had a rough day or things were just bugging him he'd keep her tucked tight against him and only give her up when you had to feed her or change her although sometimes he'd grab a bottle or clean diaper before you had a chance.

To you it seemed as if Frank was combining the love he'd once felt for her father into the love he had for her. 

As for Karen she was the best aunt you could ever imagine for Adi. She'd had your back throughout the pregnancy and would still do anything for you or Adi. She'd crossed the line somewhere along the way from best friend to more of a sister. It felt almost like it had with you and Maria. You more than understood what had originally drawn Frank to her back when he was still neck deep in being the Punisher. She was amazing.

You still missed Billy every day. Every day you saw Adi growing and knew it was something so precious and so important and that he was missing out on so much. He had barred you from visiting him or calling and a child wasn't something you told someone about in a letter so you'd sworn everyone who still had contact with him to secrecy about her. You just didn't see a point in adding that pain onto him. It was just better he never know.

Adi was almost six months old when Curtis stopped by one evening after his weekly visit to see Billy. You hadn't been expecting him so when he knocked on the door you answered with her half asleep on your hip. "Look baby it's uncle Curt!" You handed her to him with a smile "Perfect timing. I need to fix a bottle so I can put her down"

She nuzzled into his chest sleepily as he asked her about her day like he was talking to an adult and expecting a response.  

You glanced over your shoulder at the two of them walking around the living room while you made her bottle in the kitchen and smiled "Not that I'm complaining Curt because you know you're always welcome but to what do I owe this visit?" You asked walking back into the living room to hand Adi's bottle to him.

He settled into the recliner Foggy had bought you when you were pregnant and offered the bottle to her then glanced up at you "I need to talk to you and Frank said he needed your answer before he agreed to anything" "Ok gotta point out that doesn't sound good" you half joked watching Adi's head dip twice before the bottle fell down beside Curtis. 

He nodded at her "Get her settled and I'll start coffee" you stood to pick her up off him but not before saying "Coffee and needing to talk..are we having a meeting Curt?" He shrugged "in a way yeah I guess so" you scooped Adi up onto your shoulder and tilted your head back at the kitchen "Well you know how I take my coffee. I'll be back as soon as she's down good"

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

After you got her settled in her crib and grabbed the baby monitor you walked back into the kitchen where Curtis was carrying two cups of coffee to the table. He sat yours down in front of a chair then sat across from you. 

"Well you said we needed to talk but um what about?" You asked taking a tentative sip of the coffee while he made himself busy adding sugar and creamer to his own cup. "Well you know Frank's went with me a couple times to see Billy now"

You did in fact know that. It had almost bothered you that it seemed you were the only one Billy didn't want to see. It had been a little over eighteen months since he turned himself into Mahoney. "Are you coming to tell me they tried to kill each other on one of the visits because I'm really not sure what to say to that considering Matt and Foggy are both of their lawyers" 

Curtis cracked a smile at that and shook his head "No actually what I came to talk to you about is that apparently our little team is proving handy to Homeland. Me, Frank and David are working well with Madani, Stein and their team so she offered the prospect of another deal possibly being put on the table but I um well honestly I drew the short straw because everyone is in agreement we want to make sure you're ok with it"

"Another deal? What, do they need a medic? I'm happy where I am" you couldn't help letting a joke slide to cover up the knot that had formed in the pit of your stomach the moment you put together the pieces he'd laid out.

"They want to offer Billy a deal. He gets time served when it hits the two year mark then he comes to work for Homeland. He'll be under certain requirements for the first year same as Frank was along with being under the care of a psychiatrist which Kenzie has already been approached about but after that he'll be free and clear and officially an agent"

You sat your cup down hard to keep from dropping it and glanced down the hall towards Adi's room. "So what the SAC of Homeland wants my permission to offer a deal? Seems like everyone has already been told about this but me. Hell I'm just his baby mama. He hasn't spoken a word to me or tried to write me besides that one letter since he went in. Why should I have any say so?" You realized you were going on the defense hard but hell you had the right to be. So much had happened since Billy went to prison. 

Curtis looked down at his cup then glanced up "The doctors are confident in his recovery. Y/N he's healed up a lot. He remembers a lot more. Stuff he's glad he remembers and stuff he wishes he could forget again. He remembers making the deal with Rawlins for Frank to be in the cross hairs instead of you. He remembers the smuggling, Anvil. Every person he cared about that he hurt he remembers most of it. There's still some blanks spots but they're willing to sign off on the condition he keeps with his treatment plan"

"Once again Curtis what the hell does that have to do with me?" You asked hearing the edge to your voice when you spoke. He shrugged and that smile he wore in meetings slipped into place "Y/N he loves you. He's always loved you. I think, no I know he'll want to see you. If that's too much it's ok I'll handle it but know not a visit has went by that he hasn't asked about you. We've all avoided that certain subject but if he gets out he's going to want to at least talk to you and there's no way to hide a child when you'll be face to face. Frank won't sign off unless you're ok on it. Neither will I or Stein and Dinah has already said if you're not ok with it she'll squash the deal as if it never happened" 

You took a deep breath and stood up abruptly. Yesterday if someone had asked you'd resigned yourself to the fact that Adi would probably never meet Billy. You had pictures of him throughout the apartment. She carried his last name and if you were being honest you wanted nothing more than for her to have some sort of relationship with him. Him being in prison for the two year mark was still eight months away. Could you prepare yourself in that amount of time?

You hadn't realized you'd been pacing until Curtis stepped in front of you and grabbed your arms "I don't need an answer tonight. I just wanted to lay the newly played cards down" you nodded slowly then said "If Frank's ok with the deal so am I. My only condition is I tell him about Adi" he smiled then motioned back to the table "No one else has the right to tell him about her. Now let's finish our coffee then come tomorrow I'll let everyone know the ball can start rolling"

You never knew that time could move so incredibly slow yet so incredibly fast at the same time. The next few months crept by at an iceberg pace. Your nerves were getting worse the closer it came to Billy getting out.

A small reprieve came in the form of Adi choosing to start walking on the day she turned ten months old. You were sitting in the middle of Frank and Karen's living room with her on your lap. You'd been talking to Karen but the moment Frank walked in Adi had stood up which she'd been doing for a couple weeks but then she took a few wobbly steps. All of you held your breath so Frank walked closer. She made it to him before she started to fall but he caught her before she could. "You wanted uncle Frank huh kiddo?" He asked her with a broad smile. 

Karen grinned at you "Oh he's gonna talk about this for months" Frank winked at her "Why wouldn't I? Out of everyone she walked for her uncle Frank" 

Of course the next few days after that involved Frank and Curtis baby proofing every household Adi spent any time whatsoever at. 

The day of Adi's first birthday Karen was over bright and early to help you despite her party not being until that afternoon. 

Sarah and David were out of town visiting family and had came the week before to bring her presents. Dinah had to be in meetings so did Sam so it would be you,Frank, Karen, Curtis, Alice, Kenzie and Matt at your place. Foggy and Marci were working late on a case.

Adi had went down for her nap so Karen was decorating while you put the icing on both cakes."So how are you doing?" Karen asked as you put the finishing touches on Adi's smash cake. You shrugged "I'm good. Nervous that the date is ticking closer but I'm not thinking about it today. Today is about Adi" she grinned and went back to decorating.

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

By the time you and Karen were finished Adi was waking up. You walked into her room and found her laying in the bed talking to her stuffed wolf Frank had bought her. She had named him Coco the moment Frank handed him to her. "Hey babygirl you ready to get dressed?" You asked and she sat up. 

"I pick?" You laughed and pointed to where you'd already laid three outfits out "Yeah baby, you pick"

You picked her up out the crib then made sure her legs were under her before letting her go. She waddled over and looked between them before pointing to her purple and pink dress. "Good choice! Let's get ready. Aunt Karen even bought you a birthday bow to put in your hair!" Her eyes widened at the mention of a bow.

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

While you were finishing Adi's hair you heard a knock at the door. "Wonder who that is?" You asked and she grinned "Unkie Frank?" You tilted your head and sure enough heard Frank's deep voice "It is uncle Frank! Let's go show him how pretty you are"

She walked over and grabbed your hand then pulled you towards the door so you opened it and let her waddle out. "Unkie Frank!" 

He of course gushed over how pretty she looked. "Are you ready for some cake babygirl?" She nodded. So he looked back at you "Everyone else is downstairs finding places to park"

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

You were standing between the kitchen and living room watching with a smile while Karen took photos of Adi demolishing the smash cake. 

She held out one hand towards Frank and called "Unkie Frank" and you knew he was had. He dropped his head with a sheepish grin and walked to her "Yeah babygirl?" Her response was to smear hot pink icing across his face. You couldn't remember the last time you laughed so hard.

You heard the camera clicked and realized Karen had caught a candid of you and she grinned "Sorry mama. You looked too happy not to catch it" then she turned her attention back to Adi and Frank who was now being offered pieces of cake from Adi. Matt walked up next to you and bumped your shoulder "how's Frank look wearing icing?" You laughed and leaned towards him "I don't think I can accurately describe it" he grinned in response "Your voice tells enough of a story"

You glanced towards his face and saw he was facing towards where Adi was sitting giggling as Curtis came close enough for an icing attack on him as well. "So are you excited for Billy to meet her?" He asked after a moment and you went silent knowing he could tell if you lied. 

"Honestly? I'm nervous Matt" one eyebrow raised before he said "Why? I've talked to him Y/N. He's even asked me about you. I don't know how much he remembers where you and I are concerned but I don't think he's exactly gonna get out and run when he finds out you have a daughter"

"I've hid her from him" you clarified and he shrugged "All of us in this room have hid things from each other at one time or another. Doesn't mean we don't care. It'll work out but for today just enjoy Adi. You're an amazing mom and have busted your back to make sure she's had a good life up until now. Whatever comes next you have her back and we all have yours" 

That was something you had always liked about Matt, he always seemed to be able to talk people into believing in themselves. Even when he didn't believe in himself after Elektra was killed. There had been a while you had worried about him but you had in his own words been too stubborn to let him go through it alone.

"Thanks Matt" you said and reached out to hug him but he'd turned into it before you had a chance which shouldn't have surprised you "Any time. Remember no matter what's in the past we're friends. You said it yourself back when Adi was first born. It's a motley crew but we're all family by now" "Even Billy?" You asked quietly and he nodded "Even him"

The next two months seemed to come and go in the blink of an eye. 

Curtis had ended up as a go between of sorts to plan Billy wanting to see you when he got out. After some thought you'd decided it was better to rip the bandaid off so the working plan was that Karen would come pick up Adi about an hour before Billy was supposed to be at your place giving the two of you enough time to talk.

It was a simple enough plan but just like everything in your life when did anything ever go as planned?

@intothesoul

@weallhaveadestiny

[out-and-aboot-eh]

Day 5 - Emerald Lake & White Water Rafting

A slightly later start today as we set our alarms for 06:00 as that would give us enough time to thaw out, get packed up and get some breakfast at 07:15am before leaving at 08:00 sharp! Today’s breakfast was ‘mystery meat’, which tasted to me like those frankfurter sausages you get in jar, but these were flat and round, topped with a runny fried egg. A runny egg that G bit in to and it exploded all over her. Spirits in camp were high with many an egg pun flying around, but no sooner had we finished our ‘eggcelent’ baps then the rain decided to come out in full force. After a bit of a scramble to get everything under some sort of cover temporarily, it was time to load up the trailer and be on our way to our first stop of the day, Takkakaw Falls.

As transportation goes our minibus is pretty damn good; a decent sound system, some charging ports, cool air-con and for days when you’re left a bit soggy, very good heating. Too good some might say if you’re sat cooking in the back! As it was a jam packed day it was a swift visit to Takkakaw Falls, but as always it was a beautiful spot to take in before heading off to Emerald Lake. Georgie and I were both in agreement that if we were to return to Canada we’d stay somewhere like this for a few days, lovely lodges, a lovely lake and a lovely cup of hot chocolate… might be time to crack out the thesaurus!

We were given an hour and three quarters to explore and by the time G and I had jumped off the bus and nipped to the loo, everyone else was half way around the lake! Which is no bad thing as I know how important a bit of alone time is to G, so we got a hot chocolate and set off on the trail around the lake, which even we couldn’t get lost on… in theory! There was a gentle trickle of rain as we followed the path through the little village of lodges which looked extremely luxurious compared to the sodden tents we’d be setting up later that day! The lake was a smooth pool of flat emerald blue water surrounded by forest and mountains. We stopped to take a few photos, but had to hot step the final stretch to make sure we were on the bus in time (which we were with a few minutes to spare!)

Our next destination was the Kicking Horse River, for a spot of White Water Rafting, but before we gave that a go, it was time for a spot of lunch. A nice easy picky lunch of meats, dips, crisps, veg and mini naans. Once fuelled up, it was time for the group to split. Myself, Georgie, Iain, Michaela, Hannah, Daisy and Christine aka Little Fingers (the only person whose nickname has stuck on the trip so far!) were off to get our dinghy on after signing our lives away. We were given a comedic overview from the river manager Josh and headed off to get booted and suited, wet suited that is! Apparently there’s some weird fish lurgy in the river which can impact other fish which means you should wash your swimmers before going in any other water. And apparently the less clothes you wear in a wet suit, the warmer you’ll be. So this was a no brainer for Iain and I, birthday suit straight in to wet suit and away we went to get fleeces, life jackets and helmets. We boarded a yellow school bus and headed to the start of our watery trail whilst enjoying a bit of banter with one of the leaders who was Scottish.

Once there we were given the health and safety talk and divided into groups. As a group of 7 we had a whole raft to ourselves with the Captain of the establishment, Josh at the helm. As we took off down the river he told us what to do when he called out the various instructions, which must be global as they were the same in NZ! We started off with Georgie and Christine at the front, with the most important job on the boat, blocking the water from the guide! Behind them were Michaela and myself aka the front paddles, back paddles were Iain and Hannah with Daisy on chilling duty. We practiced a few commands before our first ‘get down’ which saw us well and truly introduced to the Kicking Horse River as we were submerged in to the rapids! It would have been worth bringing the Go-Pro just to capture G’s reaction of shock in that moment when we realised the water was 4 degrees!

Josh was a good craic and guided us down the river effortlessly, behind the other 7 or so boats ahead. The watery road was awash with rapids, rocks and drops, which meant we did have to pull our weight on occasion when instructed. Around the half way stage we swapped around so me and G were in the back and the other 5 in the front.

Daisy and Hannah were placed at the top of the boat like a couple of mermaids. As all the other groups were ahead of us we could see what was coming, but Josh decided to pull a move that none of the others had - ‘The Titanic’. He shouted at Daisy and Hannah to ‘get down’ at the front of the boat whilst Iain, Michaela and Christine bundled on top, essentially pinning them down! Aghast with shock, Daisy’s mouth was left gaping for the waves of water that crashed over the boat and subsequently down her gullet! A combination of raucous laughter and spluttering followed after being done so dirty by our captain, who I think at one point (after a fair amount of laughing or crying from Daisy it was hard to tell) was genuinely concerned that he might have gone too far! But it was all good and on our merry way we went, as thankfully no ice bergs were hit, just half a river swallowed! As we came towards the end of the river we were given the opportunity to see what it would be like had we fallen out, so Iain and I hopped off and dangled for a bit before being reeled back in like a couple of big ol’ white sturgeons. Aka grabbed by the life jacket and heaved, which for those on board was quite an effort! Iain had a possy to do the job, but Poor G had the gargantuan task of hoofing me into the boat on her own, which she managed! Go on muscles!

Once back to shore we loaded the boats onto a trailer and hopped back on the yellow buses, all buzzy from our trip down the river, although a few of us would have been keen for some more extreme rapids and drops, but it was still a lot of fun and better still no black eyes from rogue paddles! Once back at camp it was a quick strip and change before checking out the photos, which were a good selection and between the group, a reasonable purchase! We did our best to recount the Daisy waterboarding story, but for full effect you really did have to be there!

Onward we went to our final destination of the day, Canyon Springs Camp Ground in Revelstoke. This wasn’t on our original itinerary, but due to wildfires in Jasper (which is where we were supposed to go) that was our heading and home for two nights. It’s a beautiful location, with excellent facilities near to our spot, if you’re willing to part with your hard earned loonies and toonies! Including a hot spring pool, warm swimming pool and showers, shop and cafe. And some of the group were excited at the prospect of being on grass as it’s softer on the old bones (but wetter on the smelly feet!) As we were given a sizeable patch of turf to set up, it was a free for all, but we’ve pitched in quite close proximity to one another so G’s snoring (or possibly mine on occasion) can’t have offended anyone too much! I’d used all camp/hiking birthday presents by this point (thanks guys!) except the cutlery, which it turns out can double up as tent pegs (as there’s a shortage) to help keep it dry, thanks Cal!

It was a sausage couscous for dinner followed by little s’mores type dessert. As a self confessed chocoholic, I emphasised my appreciation to Megan at having something sweet after every dinner! We chatted for a bit after but didn’t stay up too long as it had been a long day and we all needed a good long sleep!!

G’s highlight of the day was: A walk around the Emerald lake with a hot chocolate in hand!

Photos to follow once the service picks up!!

[not-poignant]

Hey there. Do you have any tips on how to stay consistent with writing, and how to stay focused on the task at hand?

Hi anon!

So firstly, I've answered versions of this question quite a few times so you might want to go into the 'Pia on Writing' tag because they'll be there.

A quick look has found:

How to write more words regularly - This one is good for just...straight up practical advice.

But I wanted to speak frankly which is - what works for me might not work for you! We all have different strengths and weaknesses and depending on how we orient towards writing depends on what those weaknesses are. For example, I need to learn how to take more breaks and rest more, and not write as much. The 'writing a lot and sometimes too much' comes pretty easily to me these days.

Not all writers are meant to be consistent writers. I don't have a daily habit and I haven't written anything at all in a week and a half. I have my monthly wordcount and that's it. Someone else might need to write or edit every day, in order to not lose sight of their projects. Someone else might need five intensive days a month. It will depend on their nature, their personality.

Not all writers have the same reasons behind why they can't stay focused on a task. I have ADHD, but I can also hyperfocus on characters and a storyline. Others have ADHD, and cannot hyperfocus on their characters or storyline long enough to finish a story. That's a problem I don't know how to remedy, because I don't have that kind of ADHD, so I've never had to 'solve' it before. Some writers are perfectionists which hamper them, I am not a perfectionist and I'd rather the thing be out in the world with some flaws, than on my computer talking to no one. I need the dopamine more than I need something to be perfect. So you see anon, sometimes the things that impact us just aren't universal, which means you need more specific advice. There will be perfectionist writers who will have lots of great advice, there will be ADHD writers who get bored of a story who have great advice. :D

What I will say is that pretty universally, writing consistently and staying focused are both like muscles in the body. I'm where I'm at today because I've had 9-10 years of practice doing this, and when you start out (which the above link addresses) you will need to aim more realistically and reasonably, and start there.

It's also worth having a really grounded sense of why you want to write more consistently / focus more on your writing. Is it for fun? Is it because you want to finish a project? Is that project something you'll feel good if you finish or are you over it? Is it because you want to make an income? (Have you considered there are approximately 40 billion easier ways to make an income?) Is it because you just want to see if you can do it?

Sitting down and thinking about your motivations here will help motivate you if you can keep your goals in mind. And it will also help clarify what you get out of writing in the first place.

Re: Staying focused. It depends on your distractions. I use music, that helps me. That might be terrible for you. I make sure I'm eating well - the brain needs carbs and fats, and my whole body needs protein and fibre - so I'll have a decent breakfast before starting out. Sleep is important. Drinking regularly is important. There's very basic things here which seem obvious that help a ton with concentration, but if you're not doing them, they're a good place to start. You'd be surprised how much just 'eating balanced meals, drinking regularly and sleeping enough hours' helps with concentration. Like, so much.

A friend of mine uses the Pomodoro method (that would drive me nuts), there's using write-ins like Twitch streams to basically 'body double' with other people who are writing at the same time (I find this very motivational). There's gamification like 4TheWords (love this site). There's 'I get to have a cookie if I write another 200 words.' There's 'actually I've lost focus because this part of the story might be broken and if I just do this the river will start to flow again' as a writing technique.

Mostly, you'll need the time and space to just amass the number of techniques you need to help with both focus and writing regularly. But in all of this, it's vital to be patient with yourself. You can't expect yourself to take a week to end up somewhere that someone else took 3 or 4 years to get to. And it won't be...consistent. Don't side-eye me or anything, but like, we're not meant to be machines, even people who write relatively consistently (like me) need breaks, get burnt out, get tired, are over it, and sometimes need brand new techniques to start working again. Knowing that it's not a linear upward curve of ever-increasing focus lets you also just...be compassionate and patient with yourself.

Oh yeah, because you'll have to get good at both of these too anon. :D Learning discipline and being firm with yourself can't work successfully if you also then mentally punish yourself for not doing it 'well enough' to the point where you don't want to do it anymore. Cultivating the 'I'll try again tomorrow' or 'I did great today!' parts of your brain help a ton with consistency. If you know you're going to be kind to yourself for doing well, and firm but compassionate with yourself when you don't, all of this gets way, way easier.

[mathlann]

1, 11, 28, 42, and B for Casimira? Sorry for sending so many, there's so much I want to know 👀

From this ask meme. Thank you! Ask and you shall receive lol.

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

Answered here!

11. How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

She's a seek clarification type of lady. Cas will not have herself looking stupid because she made an assumption she shouldn't have. With anything genuinely important she'll make sure both parties in the conversation agree on what is being asked and what she plans to do before she does it. The exception to this is Marazhai because he will maybe let her get one question in and still won't give a straight answer 80% of the time, so in that case if she still doesn't know by Dodge Answer #2 she just goes with it until she can read whatever cue he's giving. It never ends up being that much of a problem but also he's generally not in charge of stuff like "trade routes" and "making sure the colonies don't implode" so his exception is allowable.

28. Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? 

She prefers the unpleasant truth. A lie has a high chance of making fools out of everyone involved but an unpleasant truth can at least be worked around and come to something better. Duly note that she is a bit of a hypocrite on this, because she herself is okay with lying if she thinks there's no consequences to it, like telling Heinrix she didn't know anything about the sword shards. And when the need comes for her to approach a difficult topic she will internally grind her teeth and drag her feet to avoid the conversation until something forces her hand.

42. How badly do they want to reach their end goal? 

Her end goal here being: "make the Protectorate less chaotic and get the dynasty under the control," greatly. Cas has never had a great opinion of off-worlders in general and Imperium nobility in particular and so frankly everything that happened after her arrival on Theodora's flagship was a reinforcement of all her biases. Between Theodora's neglect and Calcazar's scheming, Cas hasn't had a peaceful night since she left Iocanthos because there's just so much she needs to do, fix one problem and five more spring up. But if she can actually get things back into some kind of working order her way that will make all the difference (and stick it to a political entity that she very much dislikes, so a mighty bonus).

B. What inspired you to create them?

Oh that's a long and convoluted answer. In short I'd say she's an amalgamation of a lot of character concepts that I've played with off an on since I got the original Rogue Trader TTRPG book a decade or so ago. The CRPG is quite different from any of the FFG 40k games but Casimira being A) high Fellowship, B) Xenos-friendly, and C) probably from Iocanthos (a favorite from Dark Heresy) were going to be givens for me. I'm always looking to play high charisma PCs in general and I also really like having characters that are from the outskirts of Imperium society in some way. Also just for the general concept I'd just finished Catherynne M. Valente's Palimpsest, and I'll say the Casimira in that book is very much her vibe (alone and in parts of her romance w Marazhai) in ways I didn't know when I first grabbed the name off of her.

The rest under the cut because it's long 😅

Mechanically, since Psyker (my usual preference) wasn't fully implemented in EA, the original Cas in EA/first half-playthrough was a Death World/Commissar/Operative (conceptually similar to how I see her older sister actually). That Casimira was more genuinely "good person" Iconoclastic, which didn't quite fit what I was going for but also I didn't really know how the Iconoclast/Heretic split was going to go at the time. This Cas was practical, had some Dogmatic moments, and generally was approaching her role as Rogue Trader by trying to be a decent person/"benevolent noble" more often than not.

Then Yremeryss kicked my ass back to Act 1 and Cas was remade as a Hiver/Noble/Officer, both for the Fellowship bonuses and because at that point I'd decided Marazhai was the one for her and frankly "You. Serve Me." being the Noble's key ability was, uh, fitting for their dynamic. That Cas was going to be from Scintilla, and I made her a bit more spoiled, callous, and scheme-y, very into crime and other light heresies because she's very sure of her power as Rogue Trader and the right to do what she wants.

The current Xenoheretical, actively Anti-Imperium, Chaos dabbler Casimira emerged partway through that playthrough. She became Iocanthan again, an envoy this time, and Hiver still fit with the nomadic background. She got some of her old altruism back but it was more out of pragmatism than genuine feeling and could be overridden if she felt wronged or that her immediate want had a greater benefit. Also her being nominally a Noble but unable to meet the proper expectations of how she should act (according to Imperium standards) became a bigger part of her arc, one that ended up resulting in the Great Heinrix Divorce Arc and her darker turn with Marazhai in the second half of the game. And with all that, the Casimira I have today!

(Honorable mention vibe-wise, Bizet's Carmen, and specifically this performance of "Ramparts of Seville" conceptually influenced quite a bit of how I see her and Heinrix in that they definitely fit the "uptight man married to his job meets a mezzo soprano and they are not compatible and won't end up together but boy will they wreck his fucking life with the time they've got" genre 🤫)

[bardicbeetle]

An exercise in old muses and people who don't belong to me.

Welcome to I'm running an RPG and writing fic about plot points that I didn't get to because my players went a different (and equally fucked) route.

“You made it, good.” Christa smiles, easy and practiced. This guy is no different from any of the other desperate fledglings she’s made. “Follow me—we should get started as soon as possible.”

“You uh, you really have a cure for this?”

“I’m working on it,” she clarifies, she’s always found it best not to outright lie about that part. “it’s still experimental but it does help keep you in control and keep the hunger minimal. I’m hoping that I can get to a point where—”

“—What the fuck?”

Ah.

He’s spotted Jonathan.

“Don’t pay him any mind,” Christa says, words laced with just a hint of suggestion, just an urge of don’t worry, let it go, he’s not important. “He killed my mother, tried to kill me, I’ve been trying to come up with a worthwhile way of destroying him but—” she stops, mostly for effect, one fist balling up. “—I just, just haven’t thought of anything that holds up to what he did. He’s harmless, and mostly unconscious, he won’t be a problem.”

Thankfully, the little mental push seems to put Aksel at ease.

At least enough that he follows her the rest of the way into the lab.

“I’m sorry about Rissa by the way,” Christa starts again, “she’s the whole reason I’m doing all this—she got turned when we were in high school and I always felt like it was my fault—” She weaves the story about Jonathan and his sister and the death of her mother the same way she always does. About how Rissa was infatuated with Jonathan, and his sister had wanted Christa for herself—and how all of it went to hell in a matter of weeks.

She talks about giving Rissa her blood.

About bleeding herself dry for years just to keep Rissa from hurting anyone because she couldn’t control herself.

Christa tells the story the same way she always does.

About Jonathan coming back.

About him forcing his blood down her throat after nearly killing her.

About him hunting Christa just as much as she was hunting him.

There’s a hypnotic edge to the way she talks.

Something she’d become very good at about two years back.

It made things easier.

Pressing her mind into other peoples.

Willing them to follow her lead.

It does snap when she tightens the first cuff, and Aksel jolts like she’s burnt him.

“It’s okay.” She says softly, “The process can hurt—it hurts less if you don’t thrash around. I’ll undo them as soon as it’s done—you have my word.”

And she would.

He just wouldn’t be alive for that part.

It’s almost a shame this time around. He seems so genuinely lost. As though the whole ordeal has sent him spiraling. It’s not something she’s seen often, but he’s not the first. A lot of the time people call her sooner—bare minimum before they kill. That alone made him a bit of an outlier.

It didn’t matter though.

The last time she’d done this, she had managed to stand outside in the sun for a few hours—but that was on half blood. She wouldn’t get the same result here.

A shame.

The warmth had been nice.

But his blood was new and weak and it would be decent stock to keep in case Jonathan got too skeletal or Rissa stopped providing her own.

Then she could keep going.

Eventually perfect at least the halfway point.

Get Rissa back in the sunlight.

And maybe someday, back to aging like she should.

“How did you… start all this?”

“It was a stupid idea at first,” Christa says, because it was, “the idea that a full transfusion of human blood could reverse the whole process. Drain out all the vampire shit, put human stuff back in, boom, hello sunshine and daytime tv. But it’s not that easy. Even our bodies don’t love being fully drained—it’s delicate keeping the balance right so that you don’t turn into a husk—”

“—a what—”

“—Don’t worry.” She says again, “I’ve done this enough times now that there’s really no risk of that. Besides, that was the first iteration—and like I said, it was a stupid idea and it didn’t work.” She walks away towards the cooler, leaving him tied up, arms legs and chest all fully strapped down to her one little office chair.

The bottom of the cooler is host to a handful of yellowy-clear IV bags, and she picks one out at random.

“Drink this—all of it. It’ll help with the pain.”

“What is it?”

“It’s plasma—dosed up with an alarming amount of painkillers. It’ll keep your hunger down while I take some blood and it’ll stop some of the pain from the next part. The dose has to be high because your body doesn’t respond the same to any kind of influence anymore. Drugs, booze, caffeine, none of it. Unless it’s a lot stronger.” This again, is half true. There are painkillers in there. But there’s also enough tranquilizer to put out a fucking moose. She’s not in the mood to hear screaming today.

The noise Aksel makes says none of these words inspire confidence. But he’s already tied down, so they don’t have to.

The last thing Christa does, as usual, is click on the webcam sitting on top of her monitor, aligning it properly so she can start the log.

“Alright, Aksel. Let’s get started.”

[lil-tachyon]

A New Year's Eve Tradition: One drawing from each month of the year

Below the break: the other New Year's Tradition where I go over my art goals from last year and reorient myself for the new one.

Another big year. Mixed results regarding my plans from last year.

Successes/Positives:

-Been doing art full-time for a full year now and haven't even come close to running out of paid work to do. Haven't had a slow week since I started so it's encouraging to know people are still interested in my drawings and willing to pay for them. Hopefully an indication that this is still a viable career path for me.

-Got a website and a newsletter up and running which turned out to be a pretty good investment of time what with the mess that twitter has become and how boring and unreliable instagram is.

Finished two comics this year! One for me, one for Spacewalk Comics, publisher of Holy West. Right now you can see them both on Patreon (and I'll throw in my book Coelum for good measure if you sign up). In total only ten pages, but comics have always daunted me so it feels good to finally have finished some. And I found that I actually really really like doing them, even more than I though that I would, so I want to build off that momentum in 2023.

-Got to meet and interact with so many great artists this year and that's always a pleasure.

Failures/Negatives:

-I was going pretty strong with teaching myself Blender for the first couple months and then completely dropped it some time in spring and have hardly touched it since.

-Likewise with some other experiments in painting and different media- was inconsistent in practicing them and became even less consistent as the year progressed.

-Aside from the two short comics, I barely worked on any big personal projects.

-Although I finished all my commissions on time I fell behind on some unpaid but important collaborative work that I still have yet to catch up on.

-In general, as the year progressed I found myself spending all my time trying to deliver commissions as quickly as possible at the expense of investing in my own artistic development or in completing any major works of my own.

-Although I haven't run out of paid work to do, I'm still struggling to bring in enough money to even make minimum wage and I'm only able to continue drawing thanks to the hard work and patience of my wife and I don't want all that pressure on her.

-In general, feel like I haven't made significant progress towards any long-term goal for the last half-year

-My poor musical instruments have hardly been touched this year :,(

-Lots of non-art things I wanted to do that I didn't even get close to

Goals for 2023:

-Get organized and stay organized. I do better when I divide my day into chunks and I lost track of that recently. Get back into that habit. Try to start each morning by going over goals for the day.

-Found that larger illustration commissions eat up a ton of my time and even with price increases have only recently started to bring in a decent amount of money. Will probably prioritize smaller commissions, be more strict about charging for revisions, and in general try to allocate more time for personal projects rather than spending weeks on other peoples' and not getting paid a lot.

-Spend more time drawing away from a computer. I feel like being in front of a screen with internet access all day for the last couple years has really eviscerated my attention span. I'm constantly pulling up new tabs of stuff to listen to or reference to look at it. I need to be able to focus. Probably draw some stuff that I can see around my room in the morning before even turning computer on.

-Finished up undisclosed, ongoing collaborative projects

-Work on a book. Got two ideas that I think are achievable, should narrow in on one by the end of January.

-Gonna try to make some woodblock prints this year. I got a printmaking kit for Christmas. We'll see how it goes. Whatever happens I expect to have fun with it :)

-Be more consistent about assessing and re-assessing goals. Try at the end of the week and end of the month. I think neglecting to do this is what got me so off-track this year

-Keep desk clean, room organzied

-Do more artist interviews. If you're reading this and have an idea for someone I should interview or we're mutuals and I haven't asked you yet, get at me.

Misc:

-Get sewing machine back in working order, sew some stuff. Need a case for my banjo, could try that...

-Read more books

-Spend more time outside

-Take train into city, draw at museums

-Be realistic about whether art is a viable career. Wouldn't kill me to go back into engineering and I do miss some aspects of it sometimes. The trick would be either to find a STEM job I actually enjoy or a low-stress part-time job...

Conclusions:

Thanks for sticking around, you guys are the best. No matter what happens I'll keep drawing this year and the next and on and on until my hands don't work anymore or I die. Happy New Year. Peace out. Best of luck.

-Logan

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

Hellooo ^^ Long time no see (and also apologies for the radio silence). I've recently been noseying around your OC tag and loved what I've seen of Kalagna Brosca and Neira Surana 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 So, if I may, for them & also for Var'Renan and Noya (whom I already know better but am also pondering from time to time), may I request Friendship and Future? Feel free to pick and choose between OCs ^^ And have a lovely day!!

[ask game]

Heyy, it's good to see you! :D Of course you may, it makes me happy to hear you enjoy them! <33

Friendship: What's your OC like as a friend? How are they at making new friends? What are the most important friendships in your OC's life?

Neira: She is actually Really Bad at making new friends because she usually keeps to herself a lot and worries too much, so her getting on with practically all her travelling companions was quite the change. As a friend she is very supportive and a good listener, always happy to lend an ear and to offer help where she can. On the flip side it can be very annoying to get her to do the same for herself, but well. Honestly all the friends she's made during the blight are important in different ways, but Alistair's friendship is at the top. During the blight they were very close and big anchors for each other, and part of that bond stays even when they start to grow apart. Before that was Jowan, who was her only close friend in the tower.

Kala: Even worse at making friends than Neira lmao but she is entirely fine with this. The few friends that she has are more than enough for her, and she cares about them deeply. As a friend Kala is, first and foremost, unwaveringly loyal. And protective. Not in a coddling way, but in a "i will prioritise your wellbeing over anyone else's Always" way. Rica was by far the most important person in her life, and still is, to an extent. As much as they hated separating, the forced distance actually made their relationship way more healthy. Alistair has become an equally important person in her life, and Zevran isn't far behind.

Noya: She's that proactive friend who tries to get you involved in events or drags you along for shenanigans. Can be A Lot but really just wants to share their excitement and wants to make their friends feel involved. Reactions to her are definitely split; she can be intense and pushy and there were more than enough people in the alienage who gave her her wide berth for her troublemaker reputation. If she likes you though you can be absolutely sure that she has your back. She is very close with both her cousins, although she can't deny that Shianni is her favourite. Yes, even though she fought with her more than with anyone else.

Var'renan: The friend who is dubbed the Sensible friend but is actually just as bad. ...Ok maybe he's a little more sensible. Or at least they have a decent judgement of when to stop before things go Too bad. And then when you go through with it anyway they will stand by and tell you "i told you so." Will still defend you in front of the Keeper though. And yes all of this is mostly in reference to Taren lol. The two of them were inseparable and there were teasing whispers about them boding, but there was never any romantic intention between them. After being conscripted Morrigan was the first person to make them open up and feel less isolated, and he hates that they parted ways on bad terms.

Future: Is there anyone your OC is looking forward to meeting or to seeing again? Who? What might that meeting or reunion look like?

Neira: She never saw Jowan again after Redcliffe, and part of her really wishes she could meet again and apologise. She feels guilty about what happened to him, but she also just. Misses her oldest friend.

Kala: She never got close to many people in the first place so there aren't any people who she misses/wants to see, really. She was desperate to see Rica again after being conscripted and that reunion went better than she could have hoped (she half expected Rica to be dead, so seeing her alive and well and with child lifted a huge weight of her heart)

Noya: After Duncan took her away, the one thing she wanted was get back to her family. When she was finally there, the reunion was... about as bad as she expected, but not in the way she expected? The situation was bad but she didn't anticipate it feeling so bad as well, in that moment. After all that is dealt with, since Warden duties keep her away from home a lot, she is happy to see her father and cousins and childhood friends again whenever she can. And she'd love to get to see Sten again sometime!

Var'renan: Well. The one person they wanted to see again the most was Tamlen, and we all know how that turned out :') Apart from that probably Merrill; if they met Renan would have very mixed feelings about her eluvian project though. Provided they survive, they also have an urge to find Morrigan again after hearing the rumours about a roaming witch. Which.. wasn't something he realised he wanted this badly. He isn't even sure why; revenge? closure? an explanation?

[shytastemakerthing]

can i have a romantic twst match up, im an esfj, pisces, i use any prns, im not smart nor am i physically well(as in athletic well) I’m more into arts such as literature, music, drawing, etc, im easy to get along with ambivert, has a lot of hobbies i can keep up with, i usually keep things to myself solely bc i dont wanna bother ppl that much, i rarely ask for help cause i want to feel independent, procrastinates a lot, average grades, i dont put effort on things that i deem as pointless only doing decently at it, im always seem to be on my imagination solely bc i have a lot of ideas in mind i just dont have any motivation to do any of em! and may or may develop some bad habits due to obsession! (i hope this is good enough!)

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, I hope that you like it! I'm sorry this took a little longer to get out, I've had recital practice for the last week and a half and tonight is opening night!😊😊

I match you with.......

Ruggie Bucchi

• Now, there are a number of reasons as to why I chose this beloved hyena man and I will try to touch base on most of then here so bare with me here😊.

• For starters, he wouldn't want you to keep anything to yourself, no matter what it was. Bottling things in and never trying to seek for help can only make things worse in the long run. Ruggie is so used to helping others and doing work (looking at you Leona), that he WILL want to help you any way that he can.

• That being said, if you truly do not wish to talk about it, he will not force you nor will he use his unique magic against you to tell him what is wrong. What he WILL do, is take you back to his room in Savanaclaw, and he dies have a habit of letting you wear his clothes, and he (if there is no work to be done), will lay down with you. If he does have to work, then he will still take tou there, but makes sure you have food and water, and anything else that may help before he leaves. He will be sending you messages throughout the day, though, just so you know he's thinking about you.

• For him to leave you in such a place as his room, shows that he trusts you a great amount, something that doesn't come easily to him. You're very important to him.

• He gets the feeling on being independent. After all, he had to learn from a very young age to take care of himself and then to take care of others. While you are fiercely independent, he makes it very well known that you can ALWAYS go to him if you need anything. He is there. Perhaps he will even bring you a meal so you don't have to travel where you are to get something. Another way he shows how much he loves you, he shares his food with you. If you know his background, you know just how important that is for him.

• He admires you talent and ability for art, especially your drawings. Though, the first thing on his mind was that you can easily do commissions and make some money from them. A lot of things his mind goes to is circled around money, again, with his background, it makes sense. But if you draw anything for this hyena, it's become his most prized possession and no amount of money can be given to him for it to be given up.

• Ruggie is an active boy. Between all the running around on his numerous jobs, back home, P.E, running errands for Leona. The boy has great cardio. Knowing your own athletic state, he at least tries to help you out. Nothing to severe, maybe going on a walk with him to Sam's shop. Something simple, easy, but still exercise. He greatly cares about your health.

• He is a great motivator! Yes, you may not want to write that paper, do that assignment, or any other task, but he is there with you through the whole thing. He is not above bribery either. Kinda like, if you can finish this assignment then I'll find a way to get you that art kit you really like, or, say you're working on a task, as soon as we are done, I promise that we can cuddle in bed for the rest of the day. We won't have to do anything at all. He just wants to see you do your best. He comes from a place where no one js really given that opportunity. He was lucky enough to make it to NRC. He's going to make sure both of you pass cone hell or high water.

• Gifts are not the most common with him, the man is on a tight budget, especially especially he sends things back to his hometown as well. Though, if he wss out and about and happened to see a book or any form of literature on a discounted price, he will spare a few madols and get it for you. Seeing the smile on your face makes it all worth it in the end.

• Overall, he is one of your biggest supporters. He wants to see you thrive and do your best while also embracing the hobbies that you have. The hyena is smitten with you regardless. He just wants to see you happy, and to him, just seeing your smile is payment enough for him.

[custardcove]

First Memories

Chapter Six - Fierce Competition

It seemed like no time at all before the first intermission. In order for either of them to make a decent pie, the crust had to rest in the fridge for at least forty minutes, and in Alice’s case so did her apples. Pansy wasn’t really allowed to enquire about how Alice was doing, and so gave her two thumbs up before chatting with the other judges. Taylor couldn’t talk either, he was busy entertaining the crowd, and had invited a one-man-band elf onstage to play music during the wait. Queenie, however, was well within her right to interrogate Alice about her progress.

“I’m impressed you managed to form a substantial dough. Cooking doesn’t seem like your forte.”

Alice sighed quietly at the backhanded compliment. “I didn’t think it was your forte either.”

“On the contrary, I have quite a bit of practice in the kitchen.”

A memory hit Alice like a brick. Queenie didn’t trust anyone with food. Of course she had experience, she didn’t let anyone else cook for her!

“Well—making a pie isn’t rocket science, anyway. I can read and follow a recipe well enough.”

“Can you? What comes next is the hard part. You can’t read experience or presentation.”

It wasn’t worth gratifying her intimidation with further argument. The truth made it hurt, and Alice didn’t need to be cut deeper. “Good luck, Queenie. Thanks for the extra salt, by the way.”

The noble just tittered.

Thirty minutes later, it was time to form the dough into a crust and brush it with egg. Queenie hadn’t made that jab for no reason—it was important to try and make it look nice. In an attempt to do this, Alice went over the edges of her pie with a fork, and she cut out strips of dough to form a crosshatch pattern later. Would the apples be ready yet? It hadn’t been as long as the recipe suggested, but Alice had done her best to chop them into small (somewhat rounded) cubes, having hoped this would help them marinate faster. Taking her chances, she removed them from the fridge and tumbled them into her pie casing, flattening them the best she could before adding the strips of pastry. Getting the whole thing into the oven was a relief, but that meant another forty-minute wait…

Before she could react, Taylor approached her with his microphone.

“And how do you feel about your progress, dear contestant?”

“Um.” Points off for Tay, Alice would have never felt prepared for this. “Fine—it’s fine. I’ll wait to see what the judges think.”

“Humble words!” He spun around. “And how does our other contestant feel about her chances?”

Polar opposite, Queenie leant over for the mic. “It’s no contest. But I believe Alice is right—we certainly will see what the judges think.”

“What a bold claim! Our second contestant thinks she’s got this in the bag. But only time will tell. In the meantime, I’ve got another act for all you lovely folks out there—”

Time to watch another half-baked performance while they waited for the pies to cook. Still, Alice thought it was better to listen than suffer any further hot steam from her opponent…

***

Ding! Alice’s personal timer was done. She hurried over to the oven. Was it cooked all the way through? The pastry was a golden colour; maybe it could use a few more minutes—but Queenie was already taking hers out! The human debated what to do. Did a few minutes make that much difference? Maybe. But what if—

“Five minutes left!”

In a panic, she opted to remove the pie. It needed those five minutes to cool down.

“Fiiiiiive minutes…!”

“We’re both done, you ignorant fop.” It seemed Queenie was as eager for this to end as Alice was.

“Oh. Well, in that case…” Taylor adjusted his tie with his free hand, washing away the insult with a deep breath. “Both contestants have completed their challenge, and judging will commence shortly. You don’t want to miss that, folks!”

He was right—the crowd, which had thus far been filled with people more interested in milling between stalls, had finally come to attention. This was the part worth watching.

Taylor had introduced the judges earlier, having them speak at occasional intervals, but only now did Alice pay attention to Queenie’s pick.

Half-animan, she had neat, short black hair, cat ears, and a perpetually unimpressed gaze. Taylor had introduced her as Naomi; for once someone Alice couldn't identify. She wondered if Naomi had a discerning palette, or if Queenie was using her as an ace up her sleeve.

The pies were labelled ‘A’ and ‘B’, which each judge receiving a slice of each. Alice’s was Pie B – she stood by with Queenie as they awaited the verdict. Pie A was judged first.

“It’s got a nice leaf design on it,” Pansy observed. Queenie had indeed taken the time to decorate with little pastry leaves. “Hopefully tastes as good as it looks.”

“It’s super nice, visually,” Tech agreed. There was a beat as Naomi waited for him to say something more descriptive. He didn’t.

“An elegant design,” she started. “Care was taken to give each leaf a vein, presumably with a fork. The arrangement of the leaves overall is in a consistent pattern, while still appearing natural. But looks aren’t everything.”

Queenie glowered at her for this last remark, to which the cat lady added, “Anyway, let’s try it.”

Taylor held the mic away as they ate, taking a moment to give Alice a reassuring (and perhaps apologetic) smile.

After a few mouthfuls, Pansy seemed surprised. “This—it’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, really cinnamony,” Tech hummed. “Not too sweet.”

“A delicate balance between sweet and tart; flavourful but not forceful. The cinnamon and hint of ginger brings it together.” Naomi nodded, agreeing. “This recipe refines the meaning of ‘apple pie’.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Pansy said carefully. “But it’s tasty.”

They all took a swig of water before taking on Pie B. As she watched, Alice realised she’d been clenching her teeth.

“The crosshatch pattern is cute,” Tech observed, which Pansy readily agreed with.

“Shows it’s cooked well inside.”

Naomi poked it with her fork. “Yes, very traditional. The kind of homeliness you’d expect from an apple pie. Care was taken here, though some lines are slightly askew.”

They began to taste it.

“Tough choice,” Pansy claimed, though the recognition of Alice’s cooking was all too readable on her face. “They’re both real good, but this one—it’s more classic.”

“I feel like … this one’s a bit sweeter.” Tech took another spoonful. “For sure. It’s good—the other one had something extra in it, though. Was that the ginger?”

“I like sweet,” Naomi mused. “Good apples, well cooked… As Miss Pansy noted, it leans into the traditional idea of an apple pie.”

Did that mean it was good or bad? It was hard to tell. Alice hadn’t even considered using anything other than the spices listed in the recipe…

With the tasting done, Taylor prompted them further. “Are the judges ready to make their decision?”

“Yes,” all three said in unison.

“Alright! There should be two cards in front of you—A and B. Please show us whichever one you think should win!”

Pansy raised her card first. B, of course. Naomi was quicker on the draw than Tech. A, also expected. Tech, the only real impartial judge, would be the tiebreaker. He raised his card. Pie A. The winner. Alice had lost.

“And the winner—” Taylor’s words momentarily caught in his throat. He pushed on. “Is Queenie.”

The crowd clapped politely as Queenie took a short bow, stragglers starting to disperse now that the event was over. Alice couldn’t move. There was a tightness in her chest and neck, creeping up to her eyes. Queenie turned to her, ready to gloat.

“Terribly sorry, Webbe… It looks like I’ll be keeping this locket.” From the folds of her clothing, she produced her prize. It twinkled in the sunlight, tantalizing, taunting. “Such a beautiful colour, too…”

Before she could further salt the wound, the necklace erupted in light. Queenie yelped, losing grip in her momentary blindness. As the light emerged, it formed the shape of a small bird and snatched the jewellery from her loosened fingers. It landed on one of the countertops, brightness fading to reveal a little yellow duck, which dropped the necklace at its feet. The duck spoke in a voice that was no louder than anyone else’s, but everyone could hear his words clearly.  “This is not yours to keep.”

The crowd gasped, filtering back in to nosey at this development.

Alice’s face shone with recognition. “Ivan!” Her friend—the one that had given her the locket in the first place. How could she have forgotten him?

“But—” Queenie looked quite affronted by this sudden nonsense. “I won it. It’s rightfully mine, and Alice agreed to it.”

“I heard your terms, but it was never yours to wager,” the duck sapped back. “This necklace belongs to Alice. And what good will it do you, keeping it locked in a drawer? Had I any access to sunlight, I would’ve escaped from it sooner, and rightly reprimanded you!”

“Buh—well—I didn’t know you were inside there.” Queenie raised her head high, briefly glancing at the onlookers. She folded her arms tight. “Am I to understand you’re robbing me of my hard-won victory?”

“Oh no. You still won. Congratulations.” Ivan’s praise couldn’t be emptier. “Your prize is the satisfaction of winning. Next time, get your deals in writing. I think we’re done here.”

Queenie opened her mouth as if to argue, debating whether it was worth further public humiliation.

Pansy spoke up instead. “He’s right, Queenie—I think we can all agree you tried to pull one over, here.”

It was hard to say whether the other judges agreed. Tech looked a little bewildered as he scooped up what was left of the pies, and Naomi was sinking as far into her seat as she could go. But Taylor nodded. Despite this, he tried to save the performance.

“That concludes our cooking competition, folks! If you liked what you saw, be sure to pitch in for another at Erryton’s monthly community meeting!”

---

||Previous|| - ||Next||

[222hopelessromantic444]

I hope this night never ends pt.1

Rodrick x y/n fluff

_________________

I swear- get some headphones and listen to the song extasy by 187 strassenbande- while listening to this song this idea plopped into my mind, I usually don't listen to that typa music but it's somehow a banger?

(btw in this fic y/n is german- just cuz this song is german, so it's actually not that important for the plot, but I still really wanted to include this specific song hehe)

______________________

It all started with an invitation to a party from one of your classmates. Being the 'new girl' at Crossland High School wasn't easy at all. But luckily, you had made friends over the past month and were more than glad to finally be able to sit with people during the lunch break, rather than sitting all alone.

So, when the invitation made its way into your hands, you were more or less excited to go. Even if the party sucks, what do you have to lose? You haven't even built a school reputation yet and could just leave at any given moment if you felt uncomfortable. A win-win situation.

Even your parents were comfortable letting you go and "make new friends." Furthermore, they even encouraged it by driving you there. Not sure if your dad's old Nissan approaching the Heffley's mansion was a good thing, you went through your small purse one last time before waving goodbye to your dad and making your way up to the porch.

The loud music could easily be heard from two blocks away, and the heavy smell of weed and liquor didn't surprise you. Entering the house, you were greeted by dozens of teenagers dancing, making out, drinking, or secretly throwing up in one of the few plant vases in the living room.

"Heyyy y/n, we're over here, babe," Brittany, one of your few new friends, waved at you. She clearly wasn't sober anymore, according to the four red cups decently stacked in her right hand.

Making your way through the sea of teenagers, your heart skipped a beat as you accidentally tripped over God knows what and started falling face first to the ground. Luckily, just before you hit the ground, two strong arms pulled you back up to your feet. You were met with two brown eyes carefully eyeing you up and down.

"You're the new girl, right?" the stranger asked you, now locking eyes with you. "Yeah," was all you could manage to say, still in shock. "Well, I'm Rodrick, Rodrick Heffley. I guess I've seen you in the hallways a couple of times. And how's the hellhole of a school?" he questioned. He genuinely seemed interested in you, as you had seen him walk past you in school a couple of times, his eyes never leaving you.

"It's alright, I guess. I've seen worse, and besides, I'm already kinda getting used to it."

"Good to hear- y/n, right? Did you know I'm part of a band? You could come see us play sometime." The amount of confidence within his randomness and his smug smirk made you giggle. You already knew he must be in some kind of band or gang since he was practically only wearing his 'loaded diaper' tee, and his van was hard to overlook.

"Sure thing, Rodrick," you smirked back, playing it cool. Even though he was pretty handsome and his eyeliner really spoke to you, you wouldn't let him win you over that easily. "Sorry, but I think I've gotta go now. My friends are waiting. See you around." Without waiting for an answer, you stormed over to Brittany, now with her fifth cup of liquor in hand.

After she handed you her half-empty cup, she greeted you with a 'don't tell me you've fallen for the weird kid' look. Not giving you a second glance, she made her way to one of the empty rooms with some random guy, leaving you alone again.

She was really a loyal friend you could count on at all times. (Hope you get the joke.) Not even ten seconds later, the tall boy with the messed-up hair from earlier reappeared and smoothly placed himself next to you...

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

Sorry for being weird in your askbox but do you have any tips on how to write erotic fanfiction if you're a virgin ,

Kind regards

Not a weird question at all! Personal experience isn’t that important since you’re only writing it, don’t worry.

Main things are the following:

Read a lot of porn for stylistic reference, and check out websites like Scarlateen to know how it ACTUALLY works. (yes that means you’ll have to at least look at diagrams at some point.)

Why? Well. A minimum of sex ed is pretty important to write smut that won’t make your readers cringe in pain/weirded out, and you want to know what body parts are called or how they interact with one another. Sex in particular is extremely romanticized and exaggerated in media, so you’ll want to have a solid reference of the truth before you start writing your own exaggerations, else you’ll end up with whatever the hell is happening on pixiv on a daily basis.

(Do not trust porn or hentai for facts, they tend to have a half-decent grasp on dicks but absolutely do not know how anything else works, especially hentai. The amount of times I’ve caught a glimpse of breasts being treated like they cum milk… my guess is that it’s mostly cis guy making that and they’re making very wrong assumptions.)

It’s just like everything else in writing, you can break rules and write something unrealistic or unusual if you want, but to do good work you have to already know the usual way things go. Know the rules before you break them!!! Educate yourself!!!!!

Additionally you’ll want to learn about concepts like consent, kink, and protection, not just anatomy. Same reason, know how the rules work before you try to bend or break them. Else you’ll probably let unconscious bias drive your writing and you’ll get swamped by unfortunate implications. (Talking from personal experience with my first fic lmao, it wasn’t literal smut but by god was it creepy how clueless I was. Or 50 shades of Gray that’s apparently a horrid misrepresentation of what BDSM culture is actually like.)

As for how to write a sex scene, it’s very similar to a fight scene. It’s a lot about the gestures but without a minimum of thought, feelings or descriptions it just sounds like an ikea building manual, so watch out. Mind your rhythm as well.

Final advice, make sure you acknowledge the agency of your characters!

Sex isn’t something that should just be happening to someone, all participants should be doing something, even if it’s grumbling that they can’t do anything coz they’re tied up. Thoughts and feelings and sensations, every participant should be having them, even if it’s not explicit. Hell, even if they’re asleep, there should be some reaction of some kind, or a specific remark about a lack of reaction, just make sure that area is covered so you’re not straight up ignoring their agency exists.

Otherwise you end up with a sex toy instead of a character.

(Which, mind you, can be a kink in itself and that’s totally fine, but that would be a “break the rule only once you know it exists” case. No kinkshaming here.)

You don’t have to, but I would start off slow with a short and sweet scene if you’re feeling awkward about your first erotica. Keep it simple. Or you can go crazy and add tentacles or aliens, really, it’s up to you, it’s just that writing something simple is probably gonna be easier. I did start on the tentacle stuff though so really you can just do whatever you want.

Ease yourself into it, practice, don’t be shy! Sex is a very natural (not obligatory! just natural!) part of life and nothing to be ashamed of, be it irl or in writing.

Oh and make sure you don’t sear anyone’s eyeballs, warn for your content appropriately when you share your work! Be a good neighbor when sharing a public space.

[electricbluebutterflies]

JessLeto + is it too soon to do this?

Vague nsfw of a first-postpartum-Encounter variety. Also on ao3.

There is a part of her, sometimes, that worries she is not enough.

Jessica is tired, so tired in the months after, her body compromised and her lover-

It has been half a year since he last put his hands on her in any way that meant something. She wonders, in the depths of her heart, if it will ever happen again.

She has slept alone since a week after the birth of their son, and that first week could be blamed on mutual worry but after that-

They cross paths daily, but she barely gets fingertips on her skin, she hasn’t even been held in-

If she had been betrayed as a woman, she would know. Even in her current state, she would know.

Her partner adores her; her partner is mildly, respectfully frightened by her. Their balance had almost gotten good and then she went and functionally destroyed it by-

Four months of recovery, Jessica decides, is an adequate waiting period before deciding to fix her domestic life.

She walks down the hallway in the quiet of night and she is haunted by a similar night just over a year ago, another moment that changed the structure of her life forever. She’d still tried back then, pretty nightgown, a level of effort she’d thought was appropriate for her position, like-

She certainly isn’t trying now. She’s used her abilities to make sure their son sleeps through the night so that she can, and she knows that’s dangerous precedent so early but there is truly no harm in it, but that still hasn’t-

She was pretty before this, she remembers, and she’d almost thought that was all she was good for, and-

Four years in this place that has become home to her and her hand still almost shakes as she knocks on her partner’s door. She has not sought him out; he has slipped into her spaces in daylight, daily, and she has not needed to-

“Is everything-“

She kisses him, because she hasn’t managed to do that in four damn months and she misses the taste of him, scruff where she is soft, and she misses him, and she-

“Are you-“

“I could have six weeks ago,” she breathes. Timelines for recovery are so vague and fluid, but she hasn’t actively hurt in weeks, and it was all supposedly easy, and-

Her son will be an only child, she was sure of it beforehand and even more so now. She regrets nothing, but the idea of doing all of that again is-

“Is it too soon?” her partner asks, tethering her with his hands on her shoulders, oh how she loves him, this caution when it matters, sometimes too much but-

“All I’ve done is kiss you,” she murmurs, almost a laugh. “That’s hardly-“

“But you want more. I do know that look in your eyes.”

“I do. And I do not need any more gentleness than you have always given me.”

He kisses her, hands wandering into her loose hair, holding her close and she has missed-

“I was unsure what you would allow,” he breathes against her skin.

“You know my boundaries have never been-“

“Exactly my point, my storm.”

He has been decent to her, she thinks as they move back into the bedroom that was almost hers before her body was compromised; he has been more than decent, committed from their first encounter to treating her well and still-

She wants to cry, and she bites her lip as her fingertips clutch the hem of his shirt, and-

“If you are-“

“Am I still enough, like this?”

She had been taught, once, that a man who has seen her weakness would not voluntarily lie with her. This one… closest she’s ever come to controlling him was when his worry turned into something she could practically feel, and if he’d been just a little less cooperative about doing that in the hallway outside instead…

She is loved. She knows, most important thing in the known universe, that she is loved. Whether she is desired is another matter.

“Did I-“

“It has been four months since you’ve asked for me. Six since I’ve said yes. I do trust that you have not betrayed me, but-“

“Why would you ever think-“

If there has been one pleasant thing about their distance during her recovery, it is that they can’t spar if they barely speak. She is in no mood to ruin this streak, and instead of words it seems easier to just pull her nightgown over her head and present her body as it is, almost but not quite what it was before, new places she carries tension and her breasts are never quite going to be the same and-

“What imperfection am I supposed to be looking for?”

No mood for a fight, Jessica reminds herself over and over again, no mood for-

“I have-“

“May I touch you?”

She nods, stands still as he circles her. They have done this before; they did this the first time they were alone together, and she was a similar level of scared then but for wildly different reasons, and-

Her partner’s fingertips are as light on her skin as ever, curious and innocent, the smallest smile on his lips as he touches everywhere he’s ever liked to and-

“You are as you have been,” he murmurs.

“Not even close. Not-”

“If you would stop me-“

She twirls and takes a kiss, deep desperate almost brutal. She wants this, guides his hand between her thighs so he can feel that she is normal enough, and when it is inevitably different-

“I have missed you too.”

This is how she feels warm, she thinks as they begin to move together in patterns that still feel right, like constant embers somewhere safe and hidden inside her, like-

Six months is, she will admit, a frightfully long time between encounters, and they are not doing again, and-

It is more cautious than she had become used to, and better for it, and her body remembers the feel of his, and she has done both better and worse than this, and-

The longing is clear enough in his face above hers, how much he missed the presence of her, how he worries even now. Desire above all else, but never just that, that is not who he is and he is a better man for that restraint and-

She is not sure who collapses first and even less sure she cares.

After, she hides her body in sheets and lets her partner play with her hair like she almost never tolerates, and-

“Will you stay, my love?”

“Will you have me?”

“Your side of our bed has become too cold, but-“

She kisses the side of his face, the line of his jaw, whatever she can turn her head to reach.

“And you are very warm by comparison…”

“Says the woman whose body seems to carry an entire ice planet worth of cold even after-“

“As I said. By comparison.”

They will not become what they were, she thinks as she shifts her body closer. If all goes well, they will become something better instead.