#it was some of the best writing I've ever done

[rkivefae]

(repost from old acc, it's been a few years since I've been on here)

Okay, so my friend has doodled in my chemistry notebook when I let them borrow it, then I began thinking,,

Steddie high school au

Eddie draws continuously in chemistry class and he has certain things he draws with inspiration from that class and doesn’t want to contaminate it with other classes so he hides the notebook, poorly, in hope that when he comes back, it'll still be there.

Steve comes to his seat, in the back of the class and notices it immediately. His first thought is that someone lost it so he grabs it in hopes of seeing a name but instead sees crazy drawings. Ranging from small sketches of supposed knights to fantasy creatures that Steve never would have thought of seeing.

"If found, leave where it is OR ELSE" It read in thick sharpie letters on the front page.

He felt bad for being nosy and going through it but he couldn't help himself as he continued looking through it. After some heavy overthinking, he decides to draw something back. He wasn't the most talented but he was better than most in his art classes, so hopefully they didn’t laugh too much at his attempt.

He decides to draw a jester, tried his best to shade in all perfectly and portion everything properly. To say the least, he was impressed with his final product because this is better than anything he’s ever done in is classes. Next to it he writes, as if the character was saying it, “You should put this in better places.”

He didn’t even focus in class, AT ALL.

But when he came back to the class, he found the notebook again. Took one look at it and tried to fight back the desire to just crack it open and see if they wrote back. His fingers itched to have the glosses cover turned open. just a peak. He tried to reason and at first he held back. Trying to focus in class but that ended terribly, so he grabbed the notebook after about 5 minutes of spacing out on the teacher and eyeing it.

When he opened the page, there it was. A reply.

It was a king, you could tell by the crown he wore but fangs were prominent in the grinning feature. Black curled hair that fell onto his shoulder that was covered by a dark suit. A hand stretched out with a sword towards the Jester, “There is a trespasser? And a fool? State thy business!”

Steve fucking giggled. Giggled! Of all things he could’ve done, he giggled! King Steve Harrington since freshman year, had all the ladies wooing at him and guys wanting to be him just giggled because the owner of the notebook drewsomething for him.

Steve would never get focus back into that class since he replied. Always waiting for the notebook and it became his priority. He didn’t understand how he was still passing that class with how much he began lacking!

They talked about simple silly things at first before Eddie began picking it up more, talking more about who he was but never stated a name, not yet. They weren’t ready for that.

Steve even helped Eddie decide on what to use as his Hellfire club signature look that was going to be fought to be published as an official club on school record!

But when the last page came along at the ending of the school year, Eddie spoke about it. Said, “It’s the end of the year, the last of this book. Could I finally ask your name?”

Steve’s whole world stopped spinning. He couldn’t even begin to explain the thoughts racing through his head.

When they know, would they stop being friends with him? No one truly liked Steve Harrington, he became popular by default of being a pretty boy and on the basketball team. Most talked about how his group of people were assholes and that he might as well be, too. He wasn’t oblivious, he knew what most people thought. He was a boy of a rich family that was spoiled. That wasn’t a lie, but his life wasn’t pretty, thanks to his father and mother. But could anyone really understand that? Walking through the door of his home in fear of what he’ll walk in and see, what would happen to him if he breathed wrong in the presence of his father?

What if when he says his name and they don’t want nothing to do with him? What if when he says his name, he loses the only honest friendship he has? What if they share the things he told them in the notebook to everyone else withproof as a way to ruin his life because they didn’t like him? Maybe they weren’t like that but Steve couldn’t take that risk. No one with this chance would not take it, right? Tommy would take it. The rest of the boys on the team would take it. Carol would take it and laugh about it. He couldn’t expect different from other people, right?

Steve’s breathing quickened as his chest tightened, tears welling up and he gripped his chest. He rushed out of class with an unsteady balance, the teacher yelling behind him and he didn’t return for that period, the notebook left open and unsigned.

He couldn’t.

That moment was talked about everywhere, how he rushed out of class and didn’t return. No one bothered to question why, just whispered how panicked he was. Poor Steve, they said mockingly in the halls but never to his face.

Eddie knew.

It didn’t take long to piece it all together, the incident, the opened notebook, the fact that it was all too much of a coincidence and the things he said just made sense for it to be Steve Harrington.

He didn’t want to believe it at first, laughing that it was just dumb and there was no way that Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was talking to Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson with passion. But then again, they both didn’t know who each other was.

When Steve talked about dumb moments with his ‘friends’ and how he felt bad for the people they ‘hung’ around, the games he lost and how he beat himself up, even the moments that Steve told him how he hated the social ranking - it all should have made sense. At first, Eddie thought that the person writing back was like him, a freak with nerdy interest. Which, in a different font, Steve was.

However, as the next few years flied by, Eddie just watched Steve from afar. From sucking faces with Nancy Wheeler in the hallway, picking her up and twirling her around, smiling bright because he was happy to the moments that it looked like Steve was seconds away from turning over and dying. The bruises that cascaded over certain parts of his body being a brushed off topic and the fear that was in his eyes when he turned the corner. Like he knew things he shouldn’t.

There was raw fear, hatred, anger and even disgust that Eddie was able to recognize. Part of him wondered where the happiness went and the other was tired of him staying afar, wanting to talk to him because Steve Harrington was more than just a pretty boy from what he knew and the look on his eyes only said more.

Eddie never got to, Steve rushed past every day, ready to get the day over and he couldn’t talk to him. Soon, Steve graduated and Eddie was held-back again and he took that as a sign. A strong one. To just get over it. He was never going to know Steve Harrington and it was stupid for him to even think so. Plus, if he did, it was stupid! The town freak with the most loved boy in town? Not a good duo. So, he stayed afar for good.

Until he didn’t.

Steve Harrington waltzed in with an arguing Dustin Henderson, the club all watching the two before Steve Harrington scoffed. “I’m serious, I’m not playing your nerdy campaign just because you’re missing a person! I don’t understand it,” He said, pushing a bag towards Dustin’s chest. “You know I’m not smart enough to understand that.”

Before Dustin could reply, Eddie took that as his chance to finally greet them. He climbed out of his chair rather loudly, catching both of their attention before walking up to Steve, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning forward.

“Well, Well, if it isn’t the missing Jester.” He said, a cocky tone laced within it

It took only a few seconds before Steve’s eyes widened when it clicked.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

[howiswhatawhy]

WYD Now? - Bucky Barnes x reader

Pairing: childhood bestfriend! Bucky x singer! reader

A/N: I love him so much your honor. Literally can't stop writing for him. This is based on WYD Now? by Sadie Jean. It's such a beautiful song, I couldn't stop listening to it ever since I rediscovered my Bucky playlist. I put more thoughts into this than the last fic and I hope you like it<3

Playlist in question: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5A4PA2qyqdiJJibwfeaojl?si=236b0a08fd0f4670

Summary: You think you see Bucky watching your show after years of no contact. It's probably just your imagination, so why can't you shake off this ache in your chest? Word Count: 2.9k Warnings: fuckboy bucky, whole lotta angst + much more longing, childhood bestfriends to strangers to lovers. not proofread (again)

I saw you in the back of my show last night

Standing underneath the exit sign

I know it wasn't really you though

'Cause you were always in the front row

The stage light shines almost blindingly. You’re used to it now, though. There was a time when it was overwhelming, almost daunting, to be in the eyes of so many people. Back then, Bucky was your rock. The anchor that kept you grounded. The calm in a world full of storms. 

But now, the thrill excites you, the heat of the spotlight feels like home. You’re not sure which you crave more, the rapt attention of a thousand strangers or the careful, loving gaze of just one person. Your person. Bucky. But if you just let yourself really listen to your heart, you’re almost sure you’d choose the latter. 

Almost.

Your gaze drifts beyond the crowd, past the stage lights and into the shadows at the edge of the room. That’s when you see him. Leaning against the wall beneath the dull red glow of the exit sign, arms crossed, eyes on you like he never left. Like he never broke you.

And then, he’s gone.

You’re probably just imagining it. Bucky wouldn’t be here, he had better things to do than to haunt your show like a ghost. There was a time where Bucky would be at every front row seat of your shows. Granted, the venues were small, maybe three rows total, but he was there. Always.

You don’t really know what happened. It doesn’t matter anyways. How could anything matter that much—enough to cost you him? But what’s done is done. There’s no taking it back. No turning back the time.

So now, you focus on the moment. Focus on performing. Because that’s what you do best. Perform. In front of thousands of eyes. In front of no one. In front of the mirror. You perform. Pretending to be okay.

——

And I've been looking for love online

And maybe some of them are real good guys

They're never gonna be like you though

You set the bar above the moon so

It’s not like men are all bad. It’s just that they’re worse, comparatively, when your bar was set by Bucky Barnes. And you did try to find love. Tried to move on. Tried everything just to feel something. But nothing you did ever came close. Close to the way he made you feel when he held you when you thought the world was against you. Close to the way he made you feel when he accidentally brushed his hands against yours, and it felt like lightning had just struck you both. Close to the way he made you feel just by looking at you, like you’re the only damn person in this Earth. And to him, that was true. It is true. At the very least, you’re the only person that ever mattered to him. You were his world. His safe place.

But none of it matters now.

Because even as you stand here, surrounded by the lights and the crowd, that feeling is gone. All that’s left is the echo of it. A memory of what once was, and the ache of never finding it again. 

You try to move on, to pretend you don’t still hear his voice in your head, whispering that you’re not alone, that everything will be okay. But the truth is, no one has ever made you feel the way he did. 

No one ever will.

——

Now that you finally got the job you like

I'm making money off the songs I write

I know you said that I could call you

I wonder if you wanna call too

Someone said he was doing well. That he finally got into that company he wanted and he finally escaped the hellhole. You heard it through a friend of a friend, like a whisper in the wind. You wonder if he’s really happy. You hope he is. You really really do.

You’re doing alright too. In a way better place than you were before. Sometimes it all feels like a dream, a mixture of your worst nightmare and the version of your life you used to write about in your journal when you were fifteen. He said you could call. You remember the way he looked at you that night — tired, unsure, but still trying. “You know, whatever happens… you could always call me, right?” You nodded back then. Maybe even believed it. But people say a lot of things they don't mean. Still, some nights your fingers hover over his name. Just in case. Just in case he meant it. Just in case he still would pick up.

——

Now that the future doesn't feel so far

It doesn't seem as wrong to want what's ours

And after everything that's happened

I wanna put it in the past tense

People grow. They grow and they change and nothing is ever constant. You knew that. You knew that better than anyone else. Even if sometimes you felt like you might forget about it, the constant ache—the ache your father left when he walked out the door—never truly let you. It sat there, quiet but insistent, like a low hum beneath every laugh, every moment of joy, every silence. 

That didn’t stop the teenage you from hoping, though. It didn’t stop you from looking at Bucky like he was the exception to every rule, like maybe he’d be the one to stay. You held onto that hope with both hands, white-knuckled and desperate, because something about him made you believe in forever, even when you knew better.

You and Bucky stopped being friends three years ago. Though if we’re being honest, you and Bucky stopped being friends long before that. Not if you count the longing you carried like a secret, folded tight in the corners of your heart. Friends don’t look at each other that way. 

And he looked at you too. God, he did. In the way his gaze lingered when you talked, in the way he remembered things you said in passing like they meant everything. But Bucky Barnes was a walking contradiction. He flirted with everyone, kissed girls at parties like it didn’t mean anything, and smiled at you like you were the one exception. You never knew if you were special or just stupid.

And you were both too proud—too scared—to ask.

The night everything fell apart, it wasn’t a fight so much as a slow, sharp unraveling. You watched him leave that party with someone else. Again. And for once, you didn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. You didn’t smile through it or wait up or brush it off when he stumbled back into your life a week later with a half-assed apology and tired eyes.

You didn’t say anything at all.

Then, something shifted. You stopped answering his texts right away. Stopped showing up to places just because you thought he might be there. You started saying no when he called late at night, asking if you were up, like he hadn’t just spent the evening with someone else. You weren’t cruel, you never could be, not with him, but you were distant. Careful. Like someone learning not to touch fire, even if it still called to you.

Bucky noticed. Of course he did. You saw it in the crease between his brows when you laughed a little too loudly at someone else’s joke, felt it in the way he started watching you from across the room like maybe you were slipping out of his reach. And you were.

He tried, in his own way.

Cornered you in the kitchen at Sam’s birthday party, leaning against the counter like it wasn’t taking everything in you not to look at him. Like he hadn’t been circling you all night, waiting for a moment when you weren’t surrounded by other people. Other distractions.

“Did I do something wrong, baby?” he asked, soft and unsure in a way that didn’t match his usual confidence.

Baby.

There’s that word again. Your heart stuttered, traitor that it was.

But you didn’t show it. Just shrugged, cool and quiet, like the sound of that word didn’t carve straight through you.

He called everyone that. Baby. Sweetheart. Doll. It didn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you told yourself. That’s what you clung to when your throat got tight and you couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“No,” you said finally, voice calm. Distant. “You didn’t do anything.”

But your chest ached with everything you didn’t say.

You wanted to scream yes. Yes, you did. You made me feel like I mattered and then reminded me I didn’t. You made me believe in something, and then left me to carry it alone. But instead, you stayed quiet. Because if you said any of it out loud, you weren’t sure you’d survive hearing his answer.

He stood there a moment longer, waiting. Watching. Maybe hoping.

Then he nodded, pushed off the counter with a quiet sigh, and left you there with your silence.

And eventually… he stopped trying.

But some things don’t end just because you stop talking.

The wanting never really left you. It dulled, maybe. It muted itself into something quieter, more manageable. Something you could pack away between polite smiles and half-meant goodbyes. But it never died.

Because every time you hear his name, your heart still flinches. Every time someone mentions him in passing, you feel your pulse skip like it used to. You still remember the sound of his laugh, the shape of his mouth around your name, the way it used to feel like you were the only two people in the world.

And you’re tired. Tired of feeling like nothing could ever compare. Tired of longing for the ghost of him. No, not the ghost of him. Tired of longing for him. The real him. You’re tired of pretending it was only ever a phase. A crush. A moment you’ve outgrown.

It’s been 3 years of missing him and many more years of longing for him. So you decided you had enough of it. You tried getting rid of the wanting, but it didn’t work. You tried distracting yourself, that only made you miss him more. You tried being mad, really mad. Told yourself he didn’t deserve that kind of space in your chest. That if he wanted you, he would’ve said something. Done something. Chosen you. And that just left you feeling unwanted.

But there’s one thing you haven’t tried: talking to him.

So you do.

You don’t think. Don’t overanalyze or rehearse a speech in your head. You just pick up your phone and press his name before you can talk yourself out of it. Before fear and pride and all the years between you can pull you back under.

It rings.

Once.

Twice.

“Hello?”

Fuck. dontcrydontcrydontcrydontcry.

“Doll, you okay?”

And you just sob.

——

‘Cause I don’t wanna be 20-something

And still in my head about

17 in my bedroom talking

It took Bucky exactly 9 minutes to get to your place. You didn’t even tell him where you were. Didn’t need to. The moment he heard your sob, he didn’t hesitate. 

“I’m on my way. Stay on the phone with me, okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t, not with the lump in your throat and the way everything you had been holding in was spilling out. But you stayed on the line, the sound of your shaky breaths mixing with his muffled voice on the other side.

You barely remember the time passing. You only know the next thing you hear is the sound of your doorbell ringing—quick, urgent.

Bucky.

You rush to the door, barely pulling it open before he’s already there, eyes wide with concern. His face is soft, but there’s something tense in the way he looks at you.

This brings you back to when you were 17. Crying in your room over something small that happened. Bucky would hold you and wipe your tears away. Then he would try to talk about everything and nothing at the same time, to get you out of your head. And it worked. Every problem felt small when you have your Bucky Barnes next to you.

But you’re not 17 anymore. And it’s hard for Bucky to comfort you when he’s the reason for your broken heart at the first place. 

“Tell me what’s on your pretty mind, sweetheart,” Bucky tries.

He says it like it’s still easy. Like no time has passed. Like you haven’t spent the last three years trying to forget the way his voice used to sound wrapped around your name.

You blink at him, eyes glassy, heart pounding so loud you swear it fills the whole room. You want to yell at him. Kiss him. Tell him to leave. Beg him to stay. You want to do everything and nothing at the same time.

“You,” you whisper. It’s all you can manage at first. “You’re what’s on my mind.”

His face shifts. Like the words punch the air out of his lungs.

“All the time,” you add, voice breaking. “You’ve been on my mind for years, Bucky. And I tried—God, I tried so hard to forget. To move on. But it always comes back to you. It’s always you.”

He steps forward, cautiously, like you’re made of something fragile and he’s finally figured out he’s been the one cracking you all along.

“I didn’t know,” he says, voice low. “I swear, doll, I didn’t know it hurt you that much. I thought…” He trails off, jaw clenched like he can’t bring himself to finish the thought. “I thought you didn’t want me.”

You laugh, bitter though you don’t mean it to be. “I wanted you so much it hurt.”

And maybe that’s all it takes. For everything to unravel. For the silence to finally shatter. Because when he reaches for you again, you don’t pull away.

——

You said that by now we’d

Paint the walls of our shared apartment

You’re still everything I want and

I think we can work it out

“I used to picture it, you know,” he says, voice low. “What it’d be like if we ever figured it out.”

“Our place,” he says. “Some shitty apartment with a leaky faucet and bad lighting. But we’d paint the walls. Together. You’d pick the palette, I’d botch the corners.”

The image of it burns your brain. God knows what you would give to have that. The sheer domesticity of it all.

Bucky had been everything you’d ever wanted. He is everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And maybe that’s the problem. Dreams aren’t built to last in real light. Not when they’re made of “almosts” and “what ifs.”

But he’s sitting next to you now, limbs tangled and his thumb is brushing your cheek. He doesn’t look at you when he speaks next. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice barely more than breath. “For the way I hurt you.”

Your eyes stay on him, even as his stay fixed on the floor. His thumb stills against your skin.

“I didn’t mean to. I just... I didn’t know how to stay when things got hard. Didn’t know how to hold something good without breaking it.”

He’s quiet for a long beat, thumb stilling against your cheek. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, like it’s scraped against something sharp on the way out.

“I thought you didn’t want me,” he says. “Back then, I really believed that. I thought you were done. So I didn’t push. Just let you leave and followed you around like a shadow, watching from the edges, never able to find the courage to fix what we had."

You blink, caught between disbelief and the ache that’s never quite left.

“I should’ve asked. Should’ve fought harder,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t know how. And maybe I was scared too. Scared that if I looked too closely, I’d find out I was the only one who felt everything I felt.”

You take a shaky breath. It feels like the first real one you’ve taken in years. “I wanted you,” you say quietly. “I still do.”

His eyes flicker down to your mouth, then back up again, searching your face like he’s making sure this is real. Like he’s afraid to ruin it by wanting too much.

“You still do?” he whispers, almost disbelieving. You nod, just once. “Yeah.”

That’s all it takes.

He leans in slowly, carefully, giving you time to pull away, to say no, but you don’t want to. Not when it’s everything you’ve been wishing for all your life. You tilt your face toward his, eyes fluttering closed just as his lips brush against yours. It’s not rushed or desperate. It’s quiet. Careful. Reverent.

His hand slips from your cheek to the back of your neck, cradling you gently as he deepens the kiss, just slightly, just enough to feel like home. And when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. “I missed you,” he murmurs. And you allow yourself to dream once again, a much more real and grounded dream. Maybe we could work it out this time. He leans back a little, studying you with that half-grin that used to undo you. “So,” he murmurs, like he’s trying not to smile too much, “what are you doing now?”

[kaeyachi]

I completed Paralogism just now. Here are my Kaeya thoughts

It's all Kaeya talk. Lore is scrumptious though. Genuinely blew my mind coz this quest went hard with it. The thing is, I was multitasking at work just to finish this quest today, and you best bet I'll still be too busy to actually talk about the GOATED lore. I could make a lore post at a later date, but for now, that takes too much time (coz I double check stuff), so I decided to just talk about the character I'm passionate about. Gushing about Kaeya? That comes easy because it's from the heart. Here's the Kaeya thoughts for GI 5.6 Paralogism:

Kaeya would have been a great lawyer confirmed...HAD THEY ALL NOT HAVE BEEN ACTING THIS WHOLE DAMN TIME

THE ENTIRE LEADING OFFICERS OF THE KOF + VENTI AND DAHLIA. PLANNING ALL OF THIS FOR THE PAST 6 MONTHS WITHOUT US REALIZING. THATS CRAZY

Kaeya planned for Hertha to be the one replaced by a fake btw...what next? did he write the script too?! OTL

and mind you, Vile, his most notable informant, was just out there in the streets while Mond was getting attacked...did she get caught up in a bad time or...

segway before I go back to Kaeya, but Mondstadt is stacked with powerhouses. They were all chill. They have a Klee and a Noelle (and a Lisa, and a Diluc-) *shrugs*

speaking of, Diluc did it again. An abyss creature tried to hurt Kaeya, but Diluc just charges out of nowhere to protect him. Kaeya was the most chill person ever in this entire quest, I'm not even kidding (but the pun is very intended). Even the way he stood! IT WAS CHILL AF because his "enthusiastic civilian" companion is there to slam his claymore before Kaeya could even blink

Corrupted(? poisoned? fake?) Donna you will be missed, I wish hoyo gave you the opportunity to sing more melodies about Kaeya's beauty. If we had a nickel every time someone canonically gets a crush on Kaeya...

Kaeya is so pretty this entire quest btw. I see him daily, but his aura in the courtroom is *chefs kiss*. I think it's the serious energy he had kept the entire trial that made me go "whoah"

By the way, the fact that Diluc wasn't even in on it at first, but figured it out on the first trial, not because the fakes were acting out of character, but because... *squints* Kaeya wasn't nervous??? huh??

Diluc. Diluc, darling, hold my hand for a moment now. Mr. Ragnvindr, I theorized that Kaeya has anxiety on the reg. I even posted it an HC fic some time ago about it...are you telling me...KAEYA MIGHT ACTUALLY BE AN ANXIOUS PERSON? THE SOFT, UNSURE VOICE FROM VELURIYAM MIRAGE IS FAR MORE COMMON (probably in the past) THAN WE THOUGHT?

Also, Kaeya and Diluc's relationship seemed to have improved again because they are spending windblume together! Kaeya looks so animated as he chatted with Diluc on their way out of Mondstadt's gates (assuming they will be going to Dawn Winery to celebrate? 🥺). Lowkey reminded me of an excited kid

Cute new factoid! He is the captain of the 9th Company. Gonna utilize that somewhere somehow. (btw i am also shocked that Mond kept 7 captains in Mondstadt? Where are the other 3? With Varka I hope?)

Just realized the quest is called Paralogism because Mond deceived our asses the same way the fakes also deceived our asses. It was a festival of deception 😤 THEY DIDNT REALLY NEED US BY THE WAY. WE WERE JUST A BONUS. MOND CONTINUES TO BE ABLE TO HANDLE THEMSELVES JUST FINE. THEIR ARCHON CAN USE WIND AS A WALKIE-TALKIE CMON NOW.

one more thing, but Albedo and Venti being worried about the truth about Albedo being Rhinedottir's son because the people could lose trust in him... I just pictured what would happen to Kaeya if it were his secret that got out... the angst potential in that...

Aaaand that is all for now. Mind you, I absolutely enjoyed Natlan (the 2nd AQ is impressive, and the world quest is, dare I say, the best one I've ever done), but DAMN did I genuinely miss Mondstadt. I missed it so much that I cried for a bit after seeing the announcement that the 5.6 AQ is for Mondstadt. It really is my home, and my heart feels lighter now that I was able to go back and see how the nation that welcomed me continues to thrive. I know this peace isn't forever for Mondstadt, knowing how they put all the characters with sus and interesting lore there (and the land itself is curious), but for now, I get to see the characters that introduced me to the game living their lives and having fun, and some visibly healing from their past issues.

[kinardbrainrot]

bigheartbuck here, fic idea! pls write this:

established bucktommy, buck mows the lawn :)

oh hello bigheartbuck <333 here's 1k of bt completely failing at doing yard work!! (in case you couldn't tell, i've never touched a lawn mower in my life)

~

By Buck's estimation, Tommy's been pretending to read on the back porch for about twenty minutes now, his big body barely fitting on the old swing, one leg fully stretched out, the other spread open invitingly, knee bent and foot firmly planted on the ground. Tommy's using it to slowly rock the swing back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

The movement is a little hypnotic but if Buck's honest with himself, it has more to do with Tommy's tanned thighs on display, where his shorts are riding up, than anything else. One of his arms is folded behind his head, bicep bulging, while the other is holding a book about aviation in the First World War that Buck bought for him, back when they were together the first time around. He's even got his old man reading glasses out, thin rectangle frames he keeps perched on the top of his nose and that drive Buck absolutely insane in a hot for teacher way.

Claudette is curled up somewhere near his foot and Buck isn't close enough to tell, but he assumes the old girl is purring, happy to enjoy a warm summer day comfortably in the shade with her favourite human. No matter what Tommy says about his cat falling in love with Buck at first sight, he knows in an actual competition between them, he loses every single time. Tommy rescued her from the streets when she was but a little thing who could fit in the palm of his hand (Yes, Buck has seen the proof in the form of pictures and videos; they're devastating.) and they've been inseparable loners together ever since. Tommy likes to joke she's his lucky charm because he hasn't met a superstition he doesn't love to ridicule and the whole black cats are bad luck thing is 'silly nonsense', according to him.

They paint the perfect 'nice relaxed day off' picture is the thing.

Except Tommy hasn't turned a page in twenty minutes. In fact, Tommy hasn't turned a page since Buck got out of the house they now share, wearing an old battered pair of jeans he took some scissors to a few months ago, cutting them mid-thighs in a fit of annoyance, and one of Tommy's own tank top.

Tommy was deeply into the book at that point, Buck knows, because he barely even reacted when he dropped some iced tea on the table next to him, pressing a fleeting kiss to his temple and muttering: “I’m gonna take care of the lawn, if you’re okay with the noise.” 

And Tommy hummed his agreement, hand reaching to pet Buck’s side, fingers lingering on their way down when they met Buck’s exposed thighs, rubbing at the point where jeans meet skin, stroking against the hair there in a way that made Buck want to abandon all of his lawn mowing plans in favour of a little light making out.

Still, this is his yard too now, with the little garden he's been tending to, flowers and vegetables and herbs, a visual cue that he's here to stay, they both are, and the reminder always makes something hot like lava squirm in his lower belly, the idea that this isn't Tommy's house anymore, it's theirs. So he stuck to his original plan that didn't involve getting hot and heavy in the backyard where any of their neighbors could watch.

Except Tommy's eyes haven't left Buck's body since he stepped away and got the mower out of the shed.

It’s cute that he thinks Buck hasn’t noticed.

And Buck? Well, he's nowhere near done, but he's not above being a brat for attention. Especially when he knows how much Tommy loves it when he's acting up. So, he turns the mower off and makes a big show of stretching before grabbing the bottom of Tommy's tank top, wiping the sweat off his face with it. Then, he takes the top off entirely, making sure the angle is just right for the best view from the porch.

He sneaks a look, smirking when he realizes Tommy's book is resting on his chest now, all pretense that he was still reading long abandoned. Buck's smile widens, getting ready for the kill shot, almost prancing all the way to the garden hose.

"Really, Evan?" Tommy calls out to him in an amused tone. "A bit much, don't you think?"

"I'm hot," Buck mock-whines, turning the water on and spraying himself shamelessly.

"Oh, I'm not disputing that, baby," Tommy replies, voice that perfect mix of gentle and a little mocking, the way Buck likes it best. "Just wandering if this porn show includes actually mowing our lawn."

And it's stupid, it's so fucking stupid, the way Buck's heart jumps at that (our lawn), but it does, it really does.

So he shrugs, unapologetic, and says: "eventually?"

And even from the other side of the yard, Buck can see the way Tommy rolls his eyes, fond as anything, before gesturing at him to come over. Buck almost trips on the hose in his excitement to turn the water off and he feels himself blush a little when Tommy snorts.

"Look at you," Tommy says, voice low, hungry, when Buck finally makes his way back to the swing, still dripping. Tommy takes a second to put his book on the table, laughing when Claudette jumps off the swing in a huff when the movement disturbs her. He waits until she's properly gone to reach for the back of Buck's thighs, dragging him closer, fingers sneaking underneath Buck's shorts, teasing him.

"Hey," Buck whispers, grabbing Tommy's jaw before giving him a filthy kiss, lowering himself between Tommy's legs, and the swing really is too old to support two big men like them, but Buck's ready to roll the dice. "I'll finish the lawn after," Buck promises between kisses, rolling his hips a little too provocatively.

They should probably take this inside.

And they will, in a minute.

"I think we both know I'm gonna end up doing it," Tommy teases.

[fuckitfireeverything]

re: my last post, I’ve been thinking and talking a lot about how my creativity works and the forms it takes, and I’m so bad at having ideas but I’m so good at building on ideas — it’s why I really thrive in collaborative storytelling like ttrpg/actual play but could never write a novel, for instance

and I know that it’s just as valuable a skillset but there are so many fewer opportunities to make things in that form, because even if I wanted to put together a creative team to work on something like an audio drama, I don’t know how to approach people I want to collaborate with without being like “but I don’t have any ideas, that’s where you come in” because it feels like putting the hard work onto them/like a really big ask

[deoidesign]

For my birthday... read my webcomic! It's literally free! (Unless you want books. Those are not free)

It's beautiful, it's gentle, it's funny, they're canonically t4t and gay... And it's about time traveling vampires solving supernatural mysteries!

I've spent thousands of hours writing and drawing it, and it's really good! I'm not biased!

It's on hiatus right now and coming back in 2 months, so it's the perfect time to get caught up

[twoheadedoddity]

John Gaius and the Gospel of John

Ok. Here we go. I've spent the last little bit annotating my copies of tlt in detail, and I've been focusing a lot on the biblical references— especially John's confession chapters in NtN. I'm essentially cross-referencing the verses alluded to in the chapter titles with the actual content of the chapters, and recording some thoughts/observations. Not entirely groundbreaking, but I want to be thorough.

I'm building off of posts by @todd-queen here and here; go read these posts because they exploded my brain. The cipher. wow.

Please bear with me and if you read nothing else, read the entry for the final chapter.

Side note: I'm mostly using the New Revised Standard Version (the one I'm most familiar with) and sometimes the New International Version.

John 20:8

"Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed." (NRSV)

This is the big one—as has been previously pointed out, the fact that Muir got this verse to fit as the first numbers of the cipher AND be so relevant melts my brain. Immediately, connotations of Harrow breaking into the tomb at 10 (the first person to ever so do), seeing Alecto, and wanting to live. She saw and believed.

This chapter consists of John setting up the context for the cryo project, the Earth dying, all that. The main link is how the verse fits with Harrow's story.

John 5:20

"The Father loves the Son and shows him all that he himself is doing; and he will show him greater works than these, so that you will be astonished." (NRSV)

John and his crew are trying to buy time amid the projects getting shut down. Their power gets shut down anyway, and miraculously, the bodies that John touches don't decay. This verse speaks to both the first pieces of John's powers and foreshadows the more drastic "miracles" that will come later.

John 15:23

"Whoever hates me hates my Father also." (NRSV)

The crew realizes the link between John, his eyes changing, and the intact corpses. They try to experiment to see if anything will bring about changes in the bodies. Nothing does. He names them Titania and Ulysses. He moves the corpses' hands from across the room for the first time. Not really much to link the content of the verse to the content of the chapter here if you ask me?

John 5:18

"For this reason they tried all the more to kill him; not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God." (NIV)

The crew wrestles with the implications of what John can do—in a way, the idea that John could be chosen in some capacity, or that John can now play at being God. This is also the chapter where they decide to stream on the internet; so, you could maybe say that the verse foreshadows the ways they'll be targeted due to John's actions.

John 8:1

"While Jesus went to the Mount of Olives." (NRSV)

The verse, in context, comes right before Jesus demonstrates to a group how none of them are without sin, and shows mercy/forgiveness to a woman that others were wanting punished.

As for Jod—his little necromancy twitch streamer gig starts to take off. People start coming to him for help or healing or miracles. His words, he's "playing Jesus." Obvious parallels to the sections (such as the above verse and those that follow it) where Jesus is teaching folks and performing miracles. Interestingly, Cristabel intervenes, telling John he's wearing himself too thin and that he's making the same mistakes as Jesus by never turning people down. So John sets a limit to one hour of miracles a day.

The cult really gets going. The authorities turn up. The choice is get taken down or do something drastic. John chooses something drastic—COW WALL. Cow wall scares everyone into leaving the cult alone for a bit. I think, in a lot of ways, this is the chapter that was foreshadowed by the previous chapter's verse, if we really want to draw parallels that far?

John 19:18

"There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them." (NRSV)

John mostly talks about the politics of the FTL program—more funding stuff, the way cryo was dropped, the inconcistencies with the program, the trillionaires rushing ahead with stuff. I'll be honest, I only vaguely grasp the corporate-funding-technology-science-and-capitalism side of John's story. But I don't think there's any link here.

John 5:1

"Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish festivals." (NIV)

^ He goes up for a festival (the KJV uses the word feast, so I keep rotating that word in my brain too) and in the next verses encounters sick people in a pool. He heals one of them.

John faces no consequences for Cow Wall and other crimes. If nothing else, his influence grows. He and his crew have a barbeque and talk about their plans.

At the barbeque, big bright lights go off in my brain that point to the word feast in the KJV. This literally isn't anything. Like I don't think it's a very meaningful connection to make here. But my brain keeps going "I connected the dots!" I didn't connect shit "I connected them!!"

John gets approached by an important organization and he agrees to help them. So now he's remotely controlling the corpse of a big world leader to fool the world into thinking he's alive, in exchange for a lot of money and a city-destroying weapon. Great. Comparison between Jesus' miracles of healing and John's necromantic reanimation "miracles."

"Could you give him a permanent pulse? Could you make it so he bleeds if he gets hurt? Could you fix any current degradation to his corpse? Could he talk, if we wanted him to?" (NtN 271-272). This is a quote that @/todd-queen pulled from the text, and it fits really well.

John 3:20

"For all that do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed." (NRSV)

More FTL stuff. The nomination for that. John finds out that the plans that were progressing for FTL and the evacuations were dubious at best—just trying to make it look like progress. John is furious, and decides to lean into the necromancer-cult-leader-twitch-streamer act even more, gaining even more sway.

I think something could be said for the verse—being all about evildoers hiding and preventing their deeds from being exposed—can be linked to the trillionaires lying and covering up the ways they are interfering with the FTL project/evacuation plans. And how John tries to expose them. I'd be able to give a more concrete argument if I understood the FTL plotline better but for some reason I struggle so bad with it.

@/todd-queen also links it with this quote, about how John and his crew hide the nuke, intending to never let it see the light of day. Which is also a good connection imo. "We kept laughing that it came with a manual. I think we were scared of what would happen if we stopped laughing. We pulled up the floor and put a safe beneath the lino and swore we were never going to use it." (NtN 279).

John 9:22

"His parents said this because they were afraid of the Jewish leaders, who already had decided that anyone who acknowledged that Jesus was the Messiah would be put out of the synagogue." (NIV)

John grows in power. People come to join. It becomes an international sort of crisis. The first violent exchange occurs, and John uses the energy burst from the deaths to commit atrocities. One could link the verse to the various authorities coming after John and arresting anyone trying to join his cult. John certainly would. I hate him so much.

John 1:20

"He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, 'I am not the Messiah.'" (NRSV)

The chapter where everything goes to shit. FTL accelerating their escape attempt to mere days and then hours away. The attempted coup with G1deon and the nuke. John's crew is convinced this is the end; Cassiopeia and Nigella getting married. John reveals that he also has the corpse puppet ready to start a nuclear armageddon, as a backup threat to prevent FTL. Everything goes to shit at the cult compound. Cristabel shoots herself to make John figure out how to work with the soul. Everyone kills everyone else and John starts the apocalypse. Becomes God using the collective souls of the population and that of the earth. Obtains perfect lyctorhood with the earth, creating Alecto. The order of events for the actual nuclear apocalypse are unclear, because John is self-contradicting and a liar.

The actual contents of the chapter are... a lot. All over the place. But it's the most raw and visceral part of John's confession, which kind of fits nicely with this particular verse—given that it's from the section about John's (the Baptist, like, from-the-bible John) confession.

While I haven't covered the alternate ARC chapter numbers, I need to point out that this chapter is John 1:9 in the ARC. "The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world." (NIV). Seems pretty fitting for the chapter where he becomes God and begins the process that will become the resurrection, right?

John 5:4

This verse doesn't exist in the NSRV and many other versions, because in recent translations scholars think this verse wasn't part of the original. It is:

"From time to time an angel of the Lord would come down and stir up the waters. The first one into the pool after each such disturbance would be cured of whatever disease they had." (NIV)

The first connection, of course, is John picking and choosing who to bring back. Healing, resurrection. Yeah.

In this chapter John answers some of Harrow's questions. It's hard to tell which bits he lies about, exactly, but Harrow knows that he's full of shit. She decides to find the truth, and find God—probably not John in the end because he's a horrid lying sham—and walks into the River.

Right. Ok. Now back to this verse not being accepted as part of the bible anymore. On one hand, many of the Christian sources explaining its removal talk about how older, more accurate manuscripts do not contain this verse, so it's more accurate for more recent translations to remove it. Interesting. A chapter where Jod is clearly falsifying information being named after a verse that is supposedly not genuine. Tamsyn Muir your game is incredible.

Please direct your attention to this reddit post. The verse could also have been removed to focus attention on Jesus' healing power rather than having an angel also be doing the same thing. The post puts it better than I can, go read it, but essentially: John is trying to focus the attention on himself—the idea that he's the source of the world's power.

Choosing John 5:4 for this final chapter of John's confessional was very, very deliberate. I would like to shake Tamsyn Muir's hand and also ask her oh so many questions.

Final thoughts: I definitely that the main purpose for the choices behind most of the verses were primarily to fit with the cipher. But, where possible, Muir would have wanted them to fit somewhat with the contents of the chapter.

However, where things were very, very deliberate, were the first and last of these chapters—20:8 and 5:4. There is no doubt in my mind that these verses were handpicked for how incredibly relevant they are.

A lot of what I've pointed out has been pointed out by other people as I've mentioned throughout this post. I'm glad to be bringing it all together and freaking out over it, even though I doubt I'm the first to do so.

[moonlitcomet]

new pokemon fangame in my has-played list thanks to a recommendation from a discord member:

pokemon tectonic

please note this post is very long and very opinionated, but that's out of love for this game! pokemon tectonic has captured my interest and i'd like to see its devs improve in their next project.

my thoughts so far, after 21 hours of gameplay and 4 badges:

it needs a lot of polish, and a lot of QoL changes.

a lot of the choices made for gameplay in tectonic are really great and fun - every single pokemon getting rebalanced at least a little bit, all the new moves, the retypings and what not, that's all fantastic. i have no complaints there.

there are a lot of QoL features - such as easy move relearners and move mentoring - that make swapping your team's movesets around a breeze.

there is also an extremely expansive in-game documentation of everything - gameplay, battles, new moves and abilities, pokemon stats and learnsets, etc. you could make a wiki out of what's in here alone.

they encourage you to catch 'em all and actively reward you for it!

consumable held items will be automatically renewed at the end of a battle. you will never run out of gems or berries.

there are following pokemon, hgss style!

however, it fumbles in a lot of aspects.

gameplay

npc trainers will know your moves, and they will act depending on what moves are in your current pokemon's moveset- before any are made.

in the context of the game, this makes perfect sense. you are given an item that allows you to preview a trainer's pokemon before you battle. species, types, abilities, items, everything. trainers will react based on what they think you will do before have a chance to do anything.

but in the context of playing the game as a normal player, it feels either downright cheap or incredibly unintelligent on their parts. they will give you at least one free turn of setup, then get brutally swept by an attacking pokemon.

it would be a good idea to adjust this npc ai so you can disable use of the trainer x-ray for both battlers. i don't want them to know what i have just by looking at me, and i don't want to know what they have just by looking at them.

removing use of this tool for both sides would keep it fair. having to look at every trainer i fight in detail before i fight them is time consuming and removes a lot of the mystery and the fun of playing pokemon games to me.

trainers in this game will switch their pokemon as often as they can, and tectonic discourages you from doing that too.

a major part of pokemon's gameplay is knowing when to sacrifice a pokemon so you can bring in a waiting, healthy team member. a pokemon hanging on by a sliver of health is better to sack in the moment so your waiting team member doesn't take a strong hit, and has a turn to set up or retaliate.

tectonic actively punishes this style of gameplay.

trainers will constantly switch depending on what they think will counter your active pokemon. usually, this just means switching into a pokemon that resists your next attacking move. this is often at a detriment to them, and sometimes you can get caught in switching loops where you and the enemy trainer will change between pokemon every two turns -

attack, switch.

attack, switch.

attack, switch.

this wastes a lot of time.

an un-toggleable feature of this game is "trainer perfection". when you beat an average route npc trainer without having a single pokemon go down on your side, the trainer will run away and drop exp candy. this is a perfect win. by default, if you do not perfect a battle, the trainer will wait until you come by again to challenge you once more.

this can't be turned off except if you happen to have a special item called a stink bomb, which forces them to run away whether you've defeated them or not.

protip, you can open the debug menu using an application in your installation folder, and give yourself infinite stink bombs.

my suggestion for the perfection system is to allow players to disable it for average npcs, make it optional. or, at least, give us an option to *willingly* talk to npcs to rematch them. like the vs seeker in older games.

the devs intended this feature to not force you to rematch trainers multiple times, and instead plan your routes carefully. this has the unfortunate side effect of discouraging some players from fighting every trainer and exploring the game as they want, because the forced rematches upon coming across them again [unless you perfect them] waste more and more of their time.

also, some of these npc trainers are trainers that completely block your path - difficult ones at that. if you don't perfect or scare them off with a stink bomb, you'll have to go at them again when you come back around.

as of right now, the trainer rematches are as annoying as the pokemon breeders in gen 5. they are incessant unless you sweep them.

IVs, EVs, and natures are completely removed.

to most casual players, this would be a hooray! i'm personally happy about the removal of IVs, but it really starts to kick you in the teeth as you progress in the game. instead, what these things are replaced with are called style points. style points are minimal stat adjustments that allow you to set up different styles of battling for your pokemon.

think of it like skill points in average rpgs.

these are cool in theory. but the way they're set up is limiting and feels unnecessarily strict in application. for some unknown reason, both attacking stats are permanently linked, and you must raise both attacking stats at once. raising two attacking stats only removes one point from your remaining pool, but it feels pointless to have style points invested into a stat you will not use [ie, physical attack on a pure special attacker].

i can't believe i'm saying this, but i genuinely miss EV training over this. EV training feels like it has a much stronger impact on stats than these style points do, and you have far more control [with up to 252 in a given stat rather than 20]. it's a cool idea, just not particularly favorably executed in my opinion.

it is possible to have EVs and make them not a nightmare to deal with!

pokemon reborn has a system where all power items - anklet, lens, weight, etc - will increase its given stat EVs by 32 for every pokemon you knock out, regardless of the EVs the species naturally gives. with this feature in place, EV training becomes a breeze and you can have a fully trained 6 pokemon team in less than 10 minutes, rather than the potential hours it might take the normal way.

reborn's system is, in my opinion, an almost perfect way to do EV training. the only way to make it less hassle would be to turn EVs entirely into a menu, as tectonic has attempted to do.

you cannot use bag items - other than poke balls - in battles.

as a plus, enemy trainers cannot do this either. this is mixed based on how you like to play. i can respect this gameplay decision, as much as it very much isn't my style.

every pokemon is sorted into one or more tribes that have different effects on the battle.

honestly, i don't even use this feature. it's cool for team building i suppose, but feels tacked on and isn't my style. a point in their direction for making tribes a completely optional gameplay mechanic.

story

four out of eight badges in, the story is near nonexistent. you get scraps of it every now and then, teasing you for something large. you are wandering a world that has already been conquered. and honestly, i love that premise. people talk of someone who has already defeated the evil team in the past- you see remnants of what they did to the world around you.

this, to me, is very similar to what it feels like playing b2w2 without playing the original black & white, which i did as a child. i say this positively. traversing remnants of a world that was not yours to conquer is awesome. i'd love to see more of that.

however, halfway through the main story [i assume] and not having any of the story ramping up in any fashion feels slow. there's very little motivation for continuing aside from showing up your brother, which you are told to do before you even get your first pokemon.

everyone is just... so mean to you, for no reason. none of these characters feel particularly likeable, none of them are funny or kind as a motivation to fight for them.

[cain and hardy in reborn are my favorite examples for this, i would commit war crimes for them in spite of everything sucking early on. and it gets better. so much better.]

so you're just... trudging through a world that hates you or doesn't care about you, with no incentive to fix it from anyone you like. everything feels very obligatory, as if you have no choice in the matter, and there's no urgency at all to any situation. i'll reblog this post with an update if or when the story ramps up, but as of right now it's not hooking me too much outside of the initial concept.

final thoughts

Pokemon Tectonic is a somewhat long game with a very strong premise and unpolished execution. It feels like it's too big of a scope for how small it feels, and a lot of the effort in creating this game clearly went into rebalancing every single pokemon up to gen 8 [and some of gen 9].

What it suffers in the most is lack of accessibility and lack of options in terms of gameplay - a good game dev can add features that can modify or disable parts of their game that either make it easier or harder. Tectonic feels like it's trying to strongarm you into playing a nuzlocke or deathless run, with how it punishes you for letting a pokemon faint in battle.

I think this game could be made leagues better if it felt more customizable. As it stands, once I finish this game, I will probably not be revisiting it, as much as I like what it has going for it.

That is all I have for now. My favorite part of this game is that most avatar boss battles can be defeated with Fort Unfuckable.

[the-technorats]

a Heroes of Olympus, Jason Grace ficlet. 

N/R, 2.1k, jason/depression

Tags: tw // non-graphic suicidal ideation, references to depression (full tags on ao3)

He thinks his headache is perpetual—that even when he’s distracted enough that the screaming dims, the phantom throbbing of pressure behind his eyes, on his shoulders, against the palm that draws his gladius reminds him of his ever-present inner turmoil.

It’s no wonder he doesn’t want to sleep.

 Or, Jason deliberates. The Gods in his head don't help.

[umbracirrus]

Smutty WIP Wednesday 🫣

I said I might, so I will >:3

Here's some smut I wrote for my idiots Elyse and Balgruuf when I couldn't sleep this morning 😎👉👉

----

As his finger slowly dipped into her heat, she bit at her bottom lip as she quietly whined at the sensation. She was no stranger to using her own hands to touch herself, no less over recent months as she came to grasps with how she felt about him, under the foolish notion that he couldn’t possibly love her back given his initial uncertainty and response to the thought of even publicly acting to be together, but the feeling of his hands were something else entirely. His fingers were thicker than hers, and the way in which he gently yet rhythmically filled her made heat pool in her abdomen, no less when they curled within her.

A breathy gasp escaped her as, accompanying the motion with his finger, his thumb began to make a circular motion about her clit, rubbing against her in a way which made her entire body shudder, particularly her legs. The sensations were quick to make her back arch, her hips lifting off the bed as she longed for more, the pent up tension from wanting this for so long enough finally having an opportunity to be let out.

Nothing she had ever done herself lived up to what she was feeling in that moment in time, though she knew that his presence, the warmth of him against her, the sweet talk of how wet she was for him, intensified it that much more. She was completely at his whim, his treatment of her nothing short of all she had ever wanted, and she could think of no better place to be.

Quiet whimpers of “please,” escaped her as she felt her body burning, her voice getting lost against his lips as her hips urged him on. His other hand was so gentle, cupping at her cheek and his thumb wiping away the tears from her eyes as her orgasm rocked through her, tender kisses and whispers of her beauty leaving his lips as waves of pleasure left her breathless.

His fingers slipped out of her as he allowed her a moment of reprieve, an opportunity to catch her breath and loosen the grasp which she had of him, with one hand tangled in his hair having tugged his usual braiding loose, the other having left faint red trails across the skin on his back. From the edge of her vision, she could only watch, almost enthralled, as that hand of his gave his now fully stiff cock a slow and languid stroke, his attention clearly more focused on her than anything else.

Gently, the hand holding her face moved, just enough to brush lightly damp hair that was sticking to her brow out of the way. That was followed by a soft brush of his knuckle against her skin as he looked at her with little more than adoration and affection in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” she replied back as a whisper, the hand resting upon his back now moving to join his own in stroking at his cock. A deep noise caught in his throat as she did so, before she pressed a kiss to his lips by pulling his head back towards her own.

She could feel the way in which he was twitching at her touch, skin taut and heated at her slow motion. “I need you,” she whispered as she continued her ministrations, all whilst opening her legs further for him.

He exhaled quietly against her lips when his hand shifted, enclosing hers within it. “As do I,” he murmured back, using their joined hands to now guide his erection to where it needed to be. The head of his cock brushed against her still sensitive clit, making her bite at her bottom lip, before stopping at her entrance, wet and wanting for more.

After that, his hand released its hold of hers, moving to brace itself upon her hip. But she had to admit that there was something incredibly sensual about him allowing her to use her hand to guide his arousal into her, raising her own hips as she did so, before moving her hand to his backside as he fully sheathed himself inside her with a shuddering moan.

“By the Nine,” he whispered as he remained still for a few moments, before beginning a slow motion of his hips.

[noperopesaredope]

Me writing Izzy angst for one of the future chapters in Survivors of Wawanakwa (my new Island of the Slaughtered fic):

[ruelpsen]

Honestly, as someone who has been going through fictosexual attraction for years and also didn't know how to deal with it at first: Just write and think about the most self-indulgent bullshit you can picture. It is the only way to keep sane or so I've found.

Oh I'm already on it, believe me. In fact, here's a little snippet from what I've been working on...

"Are you... turned on by this too?" you ask. "I'm not sure," he growls. "I will admit it's not something I've ever involved in my... liaisons before. But seeing you so desperate like this is always sure to awaken a hunger in me. Or rather-" he pauses for a moment, burping again- "a thirst." With that, he kisses you deeply once more. You feel his fangs press against your lips as you moan with pleasure. You grip the back of his shirt as your hips instinctively buck against his, suddenly jostling his body. He abruptly breaks his lips away from yours only to turn his head to the side and release a short, thick belch. "Apologies," he says. "I didn't want to be..." He trails off, lost in thought for a moment. He eyes you for a second, observing the redness in your cheeks and the pleading look in your eyes. "On second thought, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" "Yes," you moan. "God, yes." "My, my, what a nasty little creature you are..."

[dallonwrites]

i love not counting word count literally only just found out that lover boy is past 10k. just a fun thursday night revelation

[navree]

This is his dad in there, the first man he ever called Dad, at any rate, and even after everything, booze and jail and Bruce and death and then death again, there's never going to be a part of Jason that isn't gutted that he's dead. One night, a wraith in a red helmet slips onto the grounds of Blackgate Penitentiary to steal one specific thing.

Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Pairing(s): Jason Todd & Willis Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Words: 2,822 Chapters: 1/1

[warrior-of-storms]

I keep rereading EGHMO because I'm proud of it and I really enjoy the story. I keep rereading Investigation because I do not remember the plot at this point. They are not the same

[leclerical]

04: Reflections on the Bahrain GP

Usually, i like to write these pretty hot off the race, but circumstances intervened (AKA i had to shower, fume a bit, then write down the ideas for a spec script my partner and i came up with instead) and it was 1AM before i even realized it. So, here are my sad, kind of sleepy thoughts now that it's solidly been almost a full day since race start ❤️💙

I feel like i haven't really had the chance to watch Charles cook in real time so far this season, so i was fucking losing my head at points during this race. When he successfully overtook Lando, i was legitimately almost hyperventilating. It was an experience, let me tell you. His defending was absolutely glorious to behold, like. That's what a fucking world class driver performs like. Damn.

I've mostly forgiven the Ferrari strat team, but it pisses me off so fucking much watching them blatantly ignore his calls from the cockpit. Feels bad, feels stupid. It's all very compounded by the absolutely batshit calls from the stewards. I mean, a full safety car for debris? Seeing how thoroughly that fucked the Ferraris over, i'm uhhhhhh not thoroughly convinced that it was a wholly unbiased call, given how obviously it benefited certain other teams. I don't love thinking conspiratorially, but this is feeling rather like the Russian bribing scandal, to make a figure skating reference. It's all just a little too conveniently benefitting McL every time.

Okay, uh, i guess it's time to talk about Max. Oooof. I'm worried he's been cursed by a vengeful witch or something, this is genuinely insane. The pit stops alone were worthy of derision, but god, this car is so completely confusing. How did he win a GP last week, just to fucking come out of the pit in P20?? I just felt my heart sinking every time the broadcast showed him, lingering in the midfield. It's...weird. It's so weird.

So, uh, what else? The broadcast was pretty focused on the front of the pack, as was i, so i missed a lot of what was happening behind. After Suzuka, this felt so eventful and stressful, and yet somehow i remember very little? Can i just say, the rookies feel a bit ignored so far this season, despite all of them showing some real talent so far. Like, i wasn't sure if Toto was right to push Kimi up so early, but dang, that kid knows how to handle himself. He's cute, i approve. I came in already liking Ollie, and i loved seeing him really push forward from a bad quali situation. He's got some grit. Plus, the radio message from his dad? I cry. I may be turning my eyes to Bearnelli just a little, they're simply too precious.

All in all, a confusing one for me. I've yet again walked into a sport at a time when genuinely well-rounded athletes are being outscored by people who typify everything wrong with the judging, all while getting a judging/media bump from being born in the "right" country. (Yes, i am talking about Yuzuru Hanyu being outscored by Nathan Chen. Yes, i am talking about doped up 14 year old Russian girls outscoring team Japan ladies by a country fucking mile.) Makes me sad, and i don't even have lestappen crumbs this time to give me a minor serotonin hit. The world is a cruel place.

fic updates:

fic B should be my ultimate escapist fantasy, so idk maybe there's some promise to work on this after this week. I even read some manga to inspire myself! Here's hoping (16,376)

fic C is the only fic i have even touched since last week. It's been crazy busy for me, long enough that i feel a little like i lost my groove. That blows. This guy's introduction ballooning in size isn't helping much (11,513)

fic D officially has a new moniker and therefore, a new letter! Congrats, baby fic D! Still no progress on the massive planning this one will take, but i keep thinking about it, which feels like a good sign (0)