#like. i obviously wrote it for myself right. so posting it was just like here. enjoy world. hopefully someone who needs to read this finds

[ongreenergrasses]

the fact that people are actually reading the behemoth is sending me

[caraphernellie]

THANK YOU FOR THE VENOM.

bible study, with a twist.

preacher!ellie williams x religious!fem!reader.

𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄! Suffocating in a small religious town, drowning in your own misery, your own thoughts in which you were led to believe are dirty, disgraceful, unholy - where else can you turn for support other than the church? Where else would you want to turn to, when Ellie Williams, so knowledgeable of the beliefs and teachings of the church, is there to take care of you?

INCLUDING... preacher!ellie , fem!reader , religious imagery/references , internalised homophobia (both e and r) , christianity/catholicism , she is so blinded by internalised homophobia , dom!ellie , oral(r!receiving) , fingering(r!receiving) , tribbing , virgin!reader but not innocent , ellie’s actually nice and has good intentions she’s just clouded by religious trauma , sinning , definitely ooc but i tried to make it as 'ellie' as possible , use of pet names : sweet girl , sweetheart , angel , good girl , cutie.

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑, oh god please don’t hate on me for this 🙏 here’s preacher!ellie. don’t come at me i have religious trauma and am also a big mcr fan so obviously. i am so nervous to post this. i cannot stress enough if this is not ur thing do not read it lmfao. closing my eyes and posting this i wrote it ages ago i dont even remember what it goes like ive been too shy to post it. UPDATE NINE MONTHS LATER: i hate this fic, i won't lie to you. i would rewrite it, but honestly, nah... it doesn't need a comeback. part two is privates because i hate it even more.

WC: 3.7K | ELLIE'S MASTERLIST | BOYCOTT TLOU

“you are aware of the three hail mary devotion?”

ellie looks down at you, kneeling before her by the altar. there’s something unreadable in her gaze. though she looks utterly sympathetic.

“each day, you can seek guidance from the lord by honouring the blessed virgin mary, and you will say three hail marys. you’ll begin each day with a saying.” ellie clears her throat, her gaze unwavering. not even a blink, eyes green as ivy almost sickening you. “i do this everyday myself. ‘o my mother, preserve me this day from mortal sin.’”

“thank you, ellie.”

“you understand that i can’t speak to the lord on your behalf. i am simply the preacher, i am here to provide you comfort and guidance. and i do promise you, if you continue to repent for your sins, god will always forgive. there will always be a spot for you in heaven should you continue to do the right thing. you can acknowledge that these… thoughts… are unholy.”

perhaps there was a reason, that instead of taking yourself to confession, you sought ellie out to ask for guidance, though leaving out a crucial detail. she is the object of your thoughts.

“if it consoles you,” ellie starts, “i have struggled with thoughts of this nature too.”

and like a record screeching, you pause, looking up at the woman. and what a woman she is – black turtleneck, which doesn’t at all hide toned muscles you wish you could see. black slacks, brown boots. shoulder length, auburn hair, and a freckled complexion. she is so respected amongst the members of the parish, always living her life in the holiest of ways, and never would you have thought someone as perfect as ellie williams could have thoughts of sin.

“what?” your voice shakes, and ellie tenses for a moment. 

perhaps you could have seen this coming, how there’s often tension thick as a brick wall between the two of you. ellie’s mixed signals ever so confusing.

“sometimes these thoughts get the best of us,” ellie murmurs. she approaches you, and as you look up at her through your eyelashes, she furrows her brows, hardens her gaze. “i have asked god to help me overcome these thoughts. i have had these thoughts and feelings for a long time. yet i repent. you may never get to stop repenting for this. but showing remorse and asking the lord to forgive you is all you need to protect yourself from the devil.”

ellie williams, respected preacher. she devoted her life to the church, wanting to live a life of holiness to make up for those thoughts she couldn’t ignore.

your hands clasped together like a silent, continuous prayer to preserve your own self-control, you open your mouth to speak, when ellie cuts you off.

“i’m glad god brought us together, and caused us to cross paths. you’re a special girl.”

there’s a warm rush of blood going straight to your cheeks, a waver in your voice, and a feeling of deep appreciation pooling between your thighs. “i’m glad too. it’s very comforting… to know that i’m not the only one dealing with these kinds of thoughts. thank you for helping me, and for teaching me that i am not damned. i hope we can both find peace.”

ellie nods slowly, her gaze unfaltering as you rise to your feet. for a moment, you feel that you catch a hint of a different expression – a smirk, one that disappears within seconds. as though she puts on a facade. “we are all born into sin. what matters is that we believe, and we follow the word of god. he knows what’s best for us.”

“and he can lead us back on the right path,” you say, smoothing down your dress, a modest piece, knee length and long sleeved.

ellie is deep in thought when she mumbles her next few words. “in the meantime, i can help you with your sexuality.”

once again, a heavy silence falls over you both as the words hang in the air. ellie’s about to backtrack, when you tilt your head, and her cheeks flush red as wine.

“h– how so..?” you ask, eyeing ellie as she rubs the back of her neck. her signals constantly so mixed, you wonder how you’ve gotten this far. too far to turn back now. her sudden nervous demeanour tells you everything. ellie has her issues, and she is nothing like the perfect preacher everyone respects.

“as a preacher,” ellie says, chuckling in an awkward way, “i should be taking care of people in our town, helping them to overcome their struggles and grow their relationship with god stronger. you are part of that as well.”

and so there it is, the strict and god-fearing ellie back again.

“i’d like to invite you over to my home. to pray, and we can study scripture. i can teach you how to overcome this.” her bottom lip drawn between her teeth, there’s that nervousness again. something impure is implied, her eyes burning into your face for any trace of uncertainty, and in the case that she finds it, she’ll backtrack. “if you’re not interested, just say so.”

and at the thought of what the implications are, you find yourself nodding distractedly, gaze falling towards the crucifix hanging on the wall of the church, and you grow warm with shameful excitement. “yes, i- i can do that. is there a time that suits you, ellie?”

ellie smiles firmly, yet it doesn’t meet her eyes. as if she is having the same mental dilemma as you. “i’m glad. how about tomorrow, 7?”

“of course, i,- yes. i’ll be there. you’re just a walk down the street.”

“perfect,” ellie says, and finally that smile reaches her eyes, an almost teasing twinkle in them, a loving look that doesn’t feel the same as the love she shares with others. “wear something appropriate, alright?”

“uh-huh,” you hum, shrinking under ellie’s gaze, knees buckling.

“i’ll see you soon,” ellie murmurs, voice low. and before you turn to leave, her eyes glance over your body once more. and she doesn’t hide her expression this time. she likes what she sees.

you simply nod your goodbye. as you step down from the altar and bow to the tabernacle, you can feel her stare. you feel it as you walk all the way down the aisle of the church, late afternoon sunlight hitting the stained glass windows just right and casting red shadows over you.

✧✧✧

it’s impossible to make it through the next day. that night when you had left the church, you tried taking ellie’s advice. the hail marys, the devotion. but thoughts crept in, ellie consuming your mind in the most beautiful bittersweet memory. you couldn’t help but to picture what she could do to you, how she could worship you. and the guilt of it had you in tears only after you had came.

at 7pm, you walk down the street to ellie’s house. 

and ellie opens the door, not even a greeting slipping past her lips before she speaks. “i like that dress on you.”

and she doesn’t know it, but it eased so much of your nervousness. that you did read the situation correctly. because if you had misread the entire thing, and showed up to ellie’s home in a dress you’ve grown out of, it would have been a certainly difficult situation to navigate. ellie said to dress appropriately. and to you, that meant an older dress that hugs you tightly in the right places, leaving your body looking supple and sweet for her taking.

and should ellie discover what’s underneath the dress, she’ll see just how appropriate you decided to dress for her.

“you look beautiful,” ellie murmurs quieter this time, stepping aside to let you into her home, the brown brick house seeming so inviting at this time of night, warm candlelight lit inside. as you walk in, ellie’s eyes dip down to your exposed thighs, the dress being that short. 

“thank you,” you reply, taking a look around the house. dark wood, vintage furniture, candles, crosses everywhere. as ellie leads you to her living room, there are things you take note of that you hadn’t expected. gaming consoles, a dvd stand full of horror films. she doesn’t comment even when she sees your stare, and instead she sets you down on her couch.

“should we start?” ellie asks, a hint of a smile on her lips. “how about we start with a prayer?”

“alright,” you say with a nod, clasping your clammy hands together. ellie grins a little, and does the same, then begins to lead you both in prayer.

“lord, we know that we are sinners. please forgive us for experiencing unholy thoughts about other women, and please guide us to become more like you. please help us to watch our words and actions, and guard us against future mistakes and errors. thank you for sending your son, jesus, to die for our sins — and thank you for your forgiveness. In the name of your son jesus, we pray, amen.”

it’s like with every reminder of your faith, glancing around the room, looking at the red rosary hanging around ellie’s neck, or the bible laying on the coffee table, an insurmountable guilt builds inside you.

ellie eyes a crucifix hanging on the wall, then averts her gaze from it – she simply can’t keep her eyes from wandering to you.

“shall we study now?” ellie asks, voice husky as she reaches for the bible. “i can t–”

“ellie,” you say, eyes pleading with her. your hand meets hers, and you stop her from picking up her bible. “we both know you didn’t invite me here to study scripture.”

ellie freezes, flitting her gaze between your hands, the bible, and your eyes. she’s been caught out. perhaps nervous to make the first move, ellie had switched up again, afraid to do anything that wasn’t innocent, afraid to corrupt you. but the confirmation that you want what she wants is enough.

“no… no, you’re right. you’re not here to talk about scripture with me,” ellie mumbles, a nod accompanying it. 

“then…” you begin, fidgeting with the hem of your little dress, tilting your head at ellie with a warm face and trembling legs, white knee high stockings clinging to your calves. “we should… then we should do what you invited me here for.”

a beat.

“are you sure?” ellie asks.

“ellie, i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this,” you say, “haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. so please.”

ellie takes one look at your pleading eyes and your bottom lip between your teeth, and she knows that she’s done for.

“come,” ellie whispers, standing and taking your hand. there’s a faint look in her eyes, and everything feels light and slow as she walks you upstairs, into the bedroom.

ellie’s bedroom is similar to the rest of her house, vintage furniture and low lighting. her queen sized bed is pushed into the corner of the wall. on the nightstand lays another bible, on the wall a cross and portraits she’s drawn or painted herself. there’s a bookshelf filled with mostly religious literature and scientific books about things like astronomy and space. an acoustic guitar sits by the nightstand.

“well,” ellie murmurs, lighting a candle or two on the nightstand, flicking off the main light in the room. she stands across from you, illuminated in a warm candlelit glow. “let’s not waste any more time.”

before ellie does anything else, her hand finds the rosary around her neck. her fingers find the crucifix and she lifts it to her lips, pressing a kiss against it like a silent prayer, one last apology to the god she’s betraying. your heart skips a beat, and within no time ellie’s got a hand on the back of your head, pulling you in.

teeth clashing, hands roaming your body, ellie kisses you like it was the only thing she was made to do in life. she presses her body close to you as her tongue pushes past your soft lips. you’re not quite sure where to put your hands at first, but they settle, cupping ellie’s cheeks to bring her closer. your soft moan is muffled by ellie’s lips, her tongue invading every corner of your mouth, nothing unexplored.

ellie’s hands slide down your body, one gripping your ass over the dress and the other cupping your boob.

pulling away only to catch her breath, ellie pushes you towards the bed, laying you down on your back and climbing on top to continue kissing. she nips your bottom lip with her teeth, every act so desperate, so full of a yearning finally being fulfilled.

she stops kissing you again, this time with her hands reaching for the zipper at the back of your dress. “let’s take this off, sweet girl.”

ellie’s voice is breathless already, and she pants softly as she struggles with the zipper for a moment, her brain moving faster than her hands. she finally manages it, and lifts the dress off you.

you’re quiet, as is ellie. you had anticipated there’d be a reaction to this, the matching set you chose. white and lacy, a bra and panties that match the stockings ellie admired earlier. but nothing could have truly prepared you for ellie’s reaction.

“you are divine,” ellie murmurs, her hand roaming down to your hips. she licks her lips, unable to keep her eyes off of how the bra accentuates your breasts, or how the panties hug your waist. her body language, all too clear of how she truly feels about you, does nothing but cause you to throb inside your panties. “do you trust me?”

the question throws you off. furrowing your brows, but offering a small smile, you reply. “of course i trust you, ellie.”

the soft tone of your voice entices ellie, especially as you take her hand and guide it to your chest, letting her squeeze you through the cup of your bra.

“what a beautiful sin,” ellie whispers, leaning down and attaching her lips to your neck. she’s careful not to leave marks that would be visible, but she squeezes your breast as she kisses and licks a trail down your neck, all the way to your chest.

ellie revels in your soft mewls, the way your thread your fingers into the hair at the back of her head, and hold her against you. her hand reaches behind you, grabbing at the clasp of your bra. and ellie bites down, sucking a bruise into the soft flesh of your breast, where she knows nobody could see it. you arch your back partly in pleasure, but mostly to provide her access to the back of your bra, and ellie pulls it off in no time. her eyes widen as your tits spill out, and she swallows thickly as she watches your nipples grow firm with arousal and the exposure to the air.

ellie’s hand cups your bare tit and squeezes as she brings her face up towards you once more, needing that touch of her lips on yours. her long fingers tweak your nipple, rolling the bud around as she kisses you with a growing passion, groaning into the kiss just as you whine quietly.

ellie chuckles as your hands press into her back, pulling her closer, hugging her and hiding your face away in shame. she kisses the corner of your lips, pausing to soothe you. “shh, let me take care of you. let me worship you, sweet girl.”

you ease your grip on ellie when she says that, and she smiles at you before leaning down. you shiver, feeling the cold metal crucifix of her rosary resting down against your stomach, earning a chuckle from ellie as she wraps her lips around your nipple. she sucks for a moment, then rolls her tongue over it.

ellie’s hand lays flat over your stomach, pinning you down to stop your restless squirming. she moves her leg between yours, her knee pressing a generous amount of friction against your panties.

“h… ellie,” you whisper, “have you done this before?”

ellie looks up at you, and with a grin, she nods. “i have. a long time ago.”

“oh my goodn–” you cut yourself off with a lengthy whine, ellie beginning to suck hickeys all over your chest, from one breast to the other. she gives your other nipple the same treatment, only this time her teeth graze it lightly, and your hand on the back of her head tightens the grip on her hair. “ellie…”

“shh,” ellie hushes you, beginning to kiss down your stomach. “you’re okay.”

your incessant squirming and writhing turns ellie’s grin wider, when she cups her hand over your panties and feels the soaking mess.

“that’s beautiful,” she whispers, her fingers tugging at the waistband now, “this all f’me?”

you nod eagerly, looking down at ellie from where you lay propped up against the plush pillows. any holy thought has left your mind, and it appears to be the same for ellie, who lays between your legs with a cheshire cat smile, stripping the panties down your legs.

“so pretty,” ellie hums, grasping at your thighs and pulling them apart. “tell me, you want me to touch you here?”

a nod simply won’t be good enough this time, and you know that, clearing your throat to speak up hoarsely. “yes, yes please, el… can y– mmff-”

ellie’s fingers rub over your cunt, two fingers spreading the folds, the touch burning hot and electrifying. ellie laughs, not meanly, but sympathetically. “barely touched you yet, cutie. so wet…”

your lips turn down into a pout that makes ellie smirk, and she leans close, leaving a kiss on your throbbing clit.

“c’mon, don’t pout at me,” she whispers, another kiss following the words. “angel…”

you shudder, and then a loud moan escapes your throat as ellie’s tongue flicks out, beginning to lap at you. your body’s responsiveness leaves ellie with so much confidence. 

“ellie, ellie,” you mewl, reaching a hand towards her. “ellie, it’s so– mmm…”

ellie reaches her free hand towards you, letting you grab it and intertwine your fingers. she gives a gentle squeeze as she licks a stripe down from your clit to your entrance, then back up again.

ellie can’t get enough of you, of your saccharine taste, staring up at you with blown out pupils as she sucks and laps at you. one of her bony fingers dips into your entrance, and ellie herself groans at the feeling of you clenching around it, but the sound you make is so rewarding that she pushes her ring finger in as soon as she knows you can take another finger. her digits stroke in and out of your sopping cunt, leaving you a whimpering and whining mess.

“c’mon angel,” ellie murmurs against your pussy, “i got you, i got you. ‘s this good?”

you nod, squeezing ellie’s hand in a vice grip, hips bucking against her face eagerly. “ellieeeeuuhh, oh, oh my g–”

“don’t,” ellie warns, “don’t take the lord’s name in vain, and don’t bring him into this.”

“i– s-sorry,” you gasp out, tipping your head back, “oh, oh, ellie, i’m gettin’ close.”

“good girl,” ellie murmurs, keeping the fast rhythm of both her fingers and tongue. “gonna be good and cum f’me?”

“yea, yea,” you say in a breathy voice, more moans leaving your lips, “ohhh, mmfuck, f-fuck, ellie.”

ellie’s ruining you, reduced you to nothing but babbles and moans. you buck your hips up more, rutting fast against her face, and that’s when you hit your peak. with a shriek of ellie’s name, you cream on her fingers, covering them with your slick, allowing them to stroke in and out even quicker.

ellie rides out your orgasm, slowly pulling away when you’re finished. she peppers kisses along your shaking thighs, leaning up to catch your lips in a kiss.

“good, sweet girl?” ellie asks, kissing the top of your head. you nod – but ellie isn’t finished with you, apparent as she begins unbuckling her belt.

“mmm,” you hum, “‘s perfect.”

“alright, angel, c’mere,” ellie says, stripping down to nothing. she sits by the headboard, pulling you onto her lap, hooking a leg over you. “you’re doin’ so good, you know? think you were made to please. good at taking what you’re given.”

“only because i want it,” you say in response, which has ellie chuckling. she grips your waist, grunting when her cunt makes contact with yours. 

“good,” ellie says sternly, “because– shit.”

ellie loves how you keel over and press your nose against her neck because of the way your sensitive pussy rubs against her own. she tightens her grip on your waist, fingernails leaving little crescent moon marks in the plush skin as she begins moving you, groaning and moaning at the way your clit bumps against hers. she moves her own hips too, gasping your name.

you breathe soft whines into ellie’s neck, arms wrapped around her, hugging tight. it’s nothing but desperate now, your second orgasm approaching right in time with ellie’s.

“hnng, f-fuck, yeah, you gonna cum again?” ellie asks, squeezing your ass as you move against her. “good girl, cum, c– cum with me, cum with me s– fuck.”

ellie tenses up, hips moving fast to rub your soaking cunts together as you both cum. kissing your temple, ellie gently moves you off of her, running a hand through her damp and sweaty hair. “stay here angel, ‘m gonna clean you up, and we’ll cuddle then, okay?”

you don’t have much of a say in the matter regardless, shaking in the afterglow of ellie’s touch. she comes back moments later, looking a bit cleaner herself, carrying a wet washcloth. she begins to wipe you down, being extra careful around all of your more sensitive areas. she leaves kisses in the wake of her touch.

“you are beautiful,” ellie says in a firm tone. “the most perfect angel i’ve ever seen.”

you can only give ellie a half smile in response, and she drops the washcloth, leaning in and kissing you sweetly. 

“don’t stress, you know why? because god always forgives as long as you’re willing to repent.”

ellie climbs into bed, pulling you close with an arm around your waist. she rests her chin on top of your head, a protective hold on you.

“why don’t we say another prayer before we go to sleep?” the preacher asks, tone almost uncertain. is she convincing you, or herself? “he’ll forgive us.”

credits: middle pic in the banner is @switchbladekillerqueen <33 this pic inspired me to write this fic!!

[seattlesellie]

this is a request by: @sadeyedsugar !! i posted but deleted bc i wasn’t satisfied w it so i re-wrote it <333

warnings: smut, dom!abby, sub!reader, size kink, abbys kind of a perv, reader is described as small but it only means smaller than abby in height n weaker than her <3 not proofread!

authors note: why the fuck do i constantly find myself writing about the wlf gym. its like i live there.

you and abby started dating exactly 3 weeks ago. 3 weeks ago, abby decided to finally ask you out. she was practically pining over you since the moment she met you. your innocent smiles made her heart melt, and every time she saw you look at her it made her physically ache. she couldnt handle it anymore, which is how she found herself banging on your bedroom door at 11pm with a random bouquet of flowers to ask if maybe, possibly, youd agree to go out with her.

since that day, you practically followed abby around everywhere. this is exactly why you found yourself here, in the wlf gym, watching your now girlfriend, lifting an impossibly heavy amount of weights. for some reason, every harsh groan, every moan that escaped her throat, made your heart beat faster. abby and you kissed, sure.

shed kissed you on your second date, while you were cuddled up in her bed after watching a movie, facing her. you were having a conversation about her past. shed told you all about her father, about the void it left in her. your genuine intrigue killed her, made her heart so soft for you. she pushed a hair strand away from you face, and just asked; “can i… kiss you?” that question made you flush so hard you could feel the heat burning in your ears. all you could respond with was a small “mmhm”, and next thing, her sweet mouth was on yours. it was sweet, and warm, like a butterfly landing on your lips. so tender and so innocent, until it wasnt. without even being aware of it, you brought your hand to lightly tug at abbys shirt. just a small tug. that tug, resulted in abby letting out a shaky breath, deepening the kiss for just a moment and then abruptly stopping. you slowly opened your eyes, and noticed how her pupils were dilated, her strong chest rising up and down. “whyd you stop?” you asked in your sweet voice, the voice that made abby’s heart flutter and fist tighten.

“because…” she responded, followed by a deep sigh. “lets just sleep, ok?” she commanded, and you did.

from then on, that was your routine. slow, innocent sweet kiss on the bridge of turning into something more, and abby shutting it off. you didnt understand why. what was she so afraid of? it was just kissing, wasnt it? sure, sometimes youd push your chest into hers, making her breathing get heavier, but that was it, right? what would be so bad about a little kiss turning into a longer one? its not like youd hurt her, not like shed hurt you, right?

“good job, abs” you cheered at your girlfriend, watching her lift.

“mmph- thanks” she breathed deeply, flashing you a triumphant smile.

“how heavy is it?” you asked, curiously examining the weights.

“why? wanna try?” she responded, satisfied with herself, obviously giddy about impressing her girlfriend.

you hesitantly walked over to face the giant weight, examining it with a panicked look that made abby huff a giggle.

you slowly bent down, put your delicate hands on the weight, and tried lifting it up. the thing is, it didnt even move. not even a flinch. “mhhhhp” you groaned, with furrowed brows. how the fuck did she manage to do that? abby was eyeing you up and down, hands crossed over her chest with a cocky smile on her face, as she watched your failed attempts. “let me help you, okay?” she commanded, and you nodded while wiping a small drop of sweat from your forehead. abby stood behind you, her light breaths caressing your neck. “that is not how you dress for the gym, by the way” she snickered. “whats wrong with how im dressed?” you were wearing a jean skirt, and a bright pink sports bra. is that not gym attire? its a sports bra, you thought.

“c’mon” she sighed, “hands on the weight” she demanded. you quickly bent down again, and abby followed you, bending down with you, putting her hands above yours, wrapping them completely up. having your hands practically fully covered by hers, sent a shiver down her spine. fuck, would that be how youd look like with her above you, deep inside, big hands holding onto yours, forcing them onto the bed? would you squeeze your hand into hers while begging her for more? focus, abby, she thought to herself. shes not ready, not yet. youd ruin her.

with the strength of abbys arms, she lifted up the weight, your hands wrapped around it. you thought the weight lifting distribution was about 20%/80%. you were wrong. it was probably around 1%/99%.

“oh my god!” you giggled with excitement. “look at me!” abby laughed in your ear “thats my strong girl” she said proudly, grunting into you, making you squeal.

her strong girl. those words made you tingle and your stomach feel like its getting swarmed by actual butterflies.

“now, bend over again slowly for me okay?” she said in your ear. you slowly pulled the weights down, following her instructions. “thats it, good girl” she said gently, her voice so soft and assuring. what if she saw your breath hitch? what if she noticed how your pupils grow every time she mutters those words? what if she’d know, exactly what she was doing to you. “you good?” she asked, making you snap out of your trance.

“yeah!” you assured her. “totally fine”. “okay…” she snickered, and got back to lifting yet another weight. you shifted from one leg to the other while watching her, leaving her to lock her gaze onto you. “think im gonna do some yoga” you exclaimed.

“you do yoga?” she smirked slightly, sharp short breaths escaping her mouth as she lifts the weight up and down, up and down.

“nope” you responded, popping the p. “but i can try, right? i mean- maybe id get as strong as you?” those words made her smile, and respond “wouldnt want to hurt yourself though, yeah? go easy” in her commanding voice. if abby told you to jump off of a roof, you probably would. especially when she talked to you like that. like you were her delicate little thing.

you grabbed the beat down yoga mat from a pile of gym equipment, and laid it gently on the floor. the mat was hot pink, complimenting your bra, making it almost seem as if you matched with it on purpose. as abby lifted her weights, she couldnt stop examining you. looking at you. noticing how your short skirt hiked up slightly as you bent down, how your white underwear teased her just a little, “look at what you want abby- never gonna get it” she felt as if your body was talking to her, mocking her. every curve of your figure inviting her in, and her brain, pushing her away. she wanted to give in - wanted to give in so bad. but you were so sweet, so kind. she was terrified of what shed do to you if she snapped. terrified of the bruises shed leave, the marks shed burn into you. what if you couldn’t handle it? what if she was too rough? what if she just couldnt go slow with you? she wanted to break you, wanted to keep you whole, wanted to make you scream and cry and pant and beg, and then she wanted you to tell her you loved her, that shes your everything, that youre hers. what if once she touched you, corrupted you, youd hate her? she couldnt handle that.

her body was sweating, and it wasnt the weights that made her react way. it wasnt the rushes of endorphins running through her veins, it was you.

she was full on gawking now, like a fucking pervert. her weights were dropped a long ago, as soon as she noticed your body bending down in front of her, hitting the ground with a thud. “fuck” she mumbled to herself. her jaw was hanging open slightly, hands curled in fists, heart pumping in and out of her chest.

you spread your legs open, following the instructions of an sports old magazine you had found laying around outside the base one day. you were whimpering, desperately trying to put your legs in the right place, hands were they supposed to. were you meant to curl your head this way? shit- was your left leg supposed to be entangled with the right one or were you completely off - looking like a disheveled barbie doll.

“ughhh” you let out a sigh of frustration. “cant get it right!” you scoffed, and shoved the magazine away.

abby was gone. did you speak? she had no idea. all she could think of was the way your thigh jiggled and how your chest heaved up and down, nipples perked up through the beat down old sports bra.

“abby” you moaned, “abby help” you sighed and begged.

“abs!”

she snapped, quickly adverting her gaze away to look at the wall. if you werent so distracted, she thought maybe you would have called her a perv, you would have been disgusted by how her eyes didnt meet yours even once - gaze just glued on to your body.

“yeah?” she responded, wiping her sweat from her hand on her top.

“need help” you drawled.

she walked towards you hesitantly. do i get close? she though. what would happen then?

“look at this” you badgered, picking up the magazine, pointing at a picture of a lady with her head underneath her leg.

“how the hell am i supposed to do that?” you questioned, looking at abbys puzzled face.

you bent down to a form a triangle shape, abby by your side.

“can you stand behind me?” you begged.

her eyebrows raised slightly, questioning you.

she walked slowly, and stood directly behind you. it was killing her. she clenched her fist, short nails scratching her palms, leaving sharp marks.

“how am i supposed to put my arm over there?” you said, and accidentally backed up against abby, your ass slightly bumping her crotch. abbys breath hitched.

“j- just…”

her face was hot. she felt like she couldnt breathe, couldnt even swallow properly, all choked up.

she couldnt control herself anymore. it was like something overcame her, possessed her. she firmly put her hands on your waist, and jerked your body to slam her crotch, for just a second. she wanted to feel you, just like that, just for a monent. god, she needed that release so so bad. she was so good with you, so strict, stern. she managed herself. she was nice, respectful, she tried not to stare if your top was cut too low. always kept her composure, even when you whined her name in a way that made her see the devil, even when you were sleeping, and the urge to pull your pants down, for just a second, just a little bit, was so strong it made her hands grow clammy, she didnt. she was good. until she wasnt.

“abby? what are you doing?” you asked, feeling your own heartbeat speeding up.

“just… stay like that… yeah?” she panted, pulled and pushed your waist to make your ass meet her crotch deeper, harder this time.

“abs…” you gaped. you were in shock - what was she doing? why did your heart beat faster and why did your cunt start tickling? you let out a shaky breath, one that abby heard. one that signaled to her that this time - there was no controlling. not anymore.

“oh god…” she murmured, massaging your ass slowly while bumping her crotch into it.

“you know what you fucking do to me?” she grunted, her voice an octave higher than her usual, desparate. did you even know?

the scene was borderline obscene - you on your knees with your head hanging from your neck like a rag doll, abby behind you with her crotch buried in your cheeks, begging to be swallowed.

“abs- it feels- ah” you moaned. you couldnt control your body anymore, which is why you dropped quickly down to your knees, collapsing on the mat.

abby followed quickly, laying on top of you, crushing you with her weight, practically covering you whole.

she was panting over you, grinding down on your ass, begging herself for mercy.

“didnt fucking wanna do it like this” she whimpered between short breaths.

“fucking wanted to take it fucking slow with you” she grunts, when she feels you slightly arch your back for her. did you want this as much as her? is she fucking stupid?

“abby-“ you squealed, moans muffled by the mattress on the floor.

she grinded herself more harshly now, almost entirely losing herself on top of you.

“feels-“ you whimpered against the floor.

“tell me” she demanded.

“feels g- feels good, a a abby” the way her crotch was grinding into you made your clit bump into the mat, separated only by the thin material of your panties, skirt hitched up burning your stomach.

“fuuuck” she muttered, feeling herself clench at your words. she couldnt believe this was happening. the amount of times she pictured you like this, pictured you a panting mess, your pussy glistening- begging for her strap, her fingers, her tongue. she would lay awake at night with her fingers buried deep inside, fists clenched, just imagining you bouncing up and down screaming her name. after shed come, shed curse herself for it. punish herself for being so fucking unhinged.

“abby- need to see you” you cried out from beneath her. she softened for a second, breaking out of her grunts.

she lifted herself off, and carefully backed away, positioning herself to sit, hands supporting her from behind. as soon as she saw your face, your glistening eyes, the realization hit her. she was about to fuck you like an animal on the floor - you, her girlfriend, her sweet, innocent girlfriend. the same one she brought those flowers for, same one shed kill for, she was gonna ruin you.

“oh shit” she breathed, and her eyes became frantic, almost begging you for forgiveness with just her look. she couldnt hurt you.

you tried steadying your breaths, eyes glued on to the floor. you felt ashamed. ashamed of how much you liked it, ashamed of the wet spot that formed on your panties.

“im so fucking sorry” she pleaded, quickly placing her hand on your cheek, barely even grazing it, barely caressing, almost afraid to touch you again.

“for what?” you questioned, holding her palm. why was she the one apologizing to you?

“i couldnt control myself” she retreated, placing her forehead on yours.

“dont” you simply stated.

“dont control yourself”

as it it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“what?” she scoffed. she looked baffled. what were you saying? was she hallucinating?

“im saying you dont have to… im saying- i want to.” you couldnt quite put it in a sentence, a normal, coherent one. but you knew, you absolutely knew you needed to feel it again. needed her closer, needed her inside.

“c’mere” she almost moaned, and your body was hers.

[demilypyro]

Okay since this doesn't seem to want to go away here's me addressing every single "allegation" that I've heard about. I hope to have at least given a good explanation where the horrible things being said about me came from, and why I consider them either just totally not true or badly misconstrued. Some of my friends have recommended I don't say anything at all, but I've always preferred openness and honesty, so I hope that's appreciated.

I understand that some people will still dislike me even though the things being said about me are not true. That's fine. I don't need everyone to like me, but it's when I'm being consistently harassed and lied about that it interferes with my mental health and ability to work. So I'm gonna try and end things with this.

"She's racist"

From what I can tell this is about one time when I said I keep my interest in anime to myself around new people. I do this because showing you're a Huge Fucking Nerd right off the bat can make a bad impression. I could have said the same thing about Star Trek or comic books, I just happened to be talking about anime in that moment. Someone seems to have misconstrued this as me finding Japanese culture something shameful and lesser than other cultures?... Which I would call a total willful misinterpretation. The rest of this seems to stem just from being Dutch, because the Netherlands is a country that has a problem with xenophobia. This is true, but uhhh I'm mixed myself so I'm pretty well aware of that, and I obviously don't support our infamous "blackface holiday." Just because I live here doesn't mean I agree with everything this country does, be that historically or in the modern day.

"She's friends with racists/misogynists/transphobes"

The only thing I can guess this is about is when I was mutuals with a user called porko-rosso at least 5 years ago and didn't really believe it when people told me they were a bigot. I haven't interacted with this user in over 4 years but people still claim we're like best friends, which was never true in the first place, we just knew a lot of the same people. Most of the resentment from the people who repeatedly spread these rumours about me seems to have started here. So for the record: no, I am not friends with any racists, misogynists or transphobes.

"She thinks she's better than other trans women because she passes better"

This is just not true. This idea seems to pop up just whenever I post about enjoying the benefits of HRT or surgery, but most recently this was misconstrued from a post where I said being trans is about being yourself as much as possible. Since this was in response to someone saying that me trying to pass is "erasing my identity", people thought I meant trying to pass is the same as being good at being trans, which was not what I meant, but some people didn't seem to want to believe me when I clarified. My apologies for the misunderstanding I guess, but that's all it was. So no, I do not hate people who don't pass as well as I do, nor do I think all trans people should be transitioning medically, and I resent the implication.

"She has a secret discord server where she makes fun of pictures of other trans women and calls them slurs"

I had absolutely no clue what this was about when I first heard it. I was sent screenshots that supposedly prove this but all they show is me being rude about someone's appearance one time in january of 2022. I actually thought these were faked because I don't remember this happening and the things said confused me, but one of my friends says she found it was in her server, where she had showed a picture of someone and asked everyone present (mostly other trans women) if they were hot. Apparently I did not think they were hot. So yes, I did insult someone's appearance back in january 2022, but it was an isolated incident. Frankly even I find my remarks in these screenshots distasteful, I don't know what I was on when I wrote that stuff. I'm sorry to that person specifically. What I said has weighed heavily on me and I apologize for it. It's not something I approve of, and don't intend to repeat that mistake. Still, to say it means I hate trans women and I love to make fun of them in my secret discord server and call them slurs is just... a super-villain level of exaggeration. I didn't even know about the word that was named as an example. It's not true.

"She's often rude"

I can't deny this one. Autism gonna autism. I've seen many therapists, doctors, experts, what have you, to try and help me with this, but it seems my particular brand of autistic in combination with the cultural differences between mine and other countries just really often ends with my foot in my mouth when I speak English. I apologize! I have never meant to personally offend anyone. It just keeps happening and I can't stop it from happening.

If after reading all this, you still consider me bad enough to hate my guts, I can't stop you, but I wanted to have at least had my say. I swear that everything in this post is the honest truth as I understand it, and that I've never acted with purposeful malicious intent.

[versethetic]

NOT PERFECT. JUST LOYAL.

i like to keep things real here so i tend to share my slight struggles with loa so that others who’ve gone through the same thing don’t beat themselves up over it.

but i’ve actually only fully understood what it means to live in imagination for a little while now;, and then put it to good use just a couple weeks ago.

despite knowing about the law for over a year…💀

OVER. A. YEAR…💀💀💀

even then, i got so caught up in making the images in my head perfect, or making sure i’m “saying the right affirmations" which obviously didn't help my case

i love reading loa posts because they make me feel nice and inspired and just remind me of my power but i somehow equated that as me overconsuming info and then i would spiral within my own head.

i would barely think of my desires as mine and when i did for only a day or two, i’d then turn around and believe that i wasn’t doing enough, that i need to affirm more or visualize for an hour and walk through every step of my day in my new perfect life or else it wouldn't manifest.

loyal according to merriam webster is "unswerving in allegiance"

all the way up until a couple weeks ago, i was not loyal to the idea that my imagination is all i need. i was not loyal to the idea that the 3d means absolutely nothing in terms of “getting” what you want, because there was nothing for me to get. now, i have become loyal to already having my perfect life.

i am that bitch. i am the prettiest princess. i am the smartest in school. i am the most famous. but i didn't need to have the perfect mindset with loa to realize it.

do you see where i’m going with this?

IMAGINATION IS ALL YOU NEED

granted, i had my days after this realization where i still struggled with techniques or accepting my new life as mine, but now i know that if i don’t identify with these things, it has not a single setback on my manifestations.

no matter what i was feeling, i told myself “i have it, my life is perfect, i am calm, i have it in imagination, the old senses are dead to me, i know what’s in my mind is the real truth”

when loa blogs say that you know you have it, it’s not some cheap trick they spew out because everyone else is saying it. if you imagine what you want, it’s officially set in stone. what you think comes to life.

the 3d is the afterimage, the product of a movie you directed, wrote, produced and starred in. you just need to stick with this fact through thick and thin, sleet or snow.

YOU are what the 3d answers to.

YOU are what the mirror reflects.

YOU decide how simple things are for you.

if you woke up and the old senses in front of your human eyes still show something you don’t like, are you gonna take that as a fact?

when you know and are loyal to the fact that your godly brain is showing you that devoted sp you have? that grand big mansion you live in? that whole new life you’re dwelling in?

NO. you’re not. think of you and you're 4d as BFFs who'll never separate, who tell each other everything and have those bff necklaces and go everywhere and do everything with each other. or imagine you're a ceo and your 4d is a loyal secretary who never asks questions and simply obeys whatever you tell it to do, because it trusts YOU. it works for YOU. however you wanna see it, you and your 4d are locked in 🔐🤞, okay? it is not separate from you, it does not seek guidance or information from anywhere other than YOU.

IT IS YOU.

and it took me a long time to see that.

it might be hard at first and the acceptance might not always be there. but i am making a conscious effort to at LEAST continuously tell myself that my imagination is all that matters. to at LEAST believe that what i want is already mine, and that’s the LEAST you can do as well.

your journey does not have to be perfect. your mindset does not have to be perfect. your feelings do not have to be perfect. mine definitely weren't. you just need to be loyal to your imagination.

[justporo]

A Scorching Letter

Brimsterton | A Staevstarion Regency AU

PREVIOUS PART | MASTERLIST | AO3

A/N: Yes hello, I know I haven't posted something I wrote in quite a while. Let's just say I've been busy, but mostly behind the scenes. This however I had written quite a while ago (end of June I think) and I need to get back into the saddle again with posting. So here we are, another trip into Regency AU with @velnna's beloved Staeve (thanks as always for letting me stick him in a costume) and Astarion. Picking off where we left off after the chaise longue incident.

Summary: With a lot mixed feelings after what almost happened between them, a scorching letter is written that reveals genuine truths and brilliant emotions. But the response might not have been what either of them had hoped for...

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve Wordcount: 5,1k Warnings: light implied nsfw

-----

Hands hastily tore open an envelope. On it, in elegant cursive handwriting that couldn’t be mistaken for anyone but Astarion’s, a name was written, boldly and with gold ink even: Staeve Brimstone.

Shivering fingers took several pages from the torn away paper and unfolded them. Immediately, it was visible that the letter had been written with a plethora of intense emotions: some parts seemed barely readable as if the pen had scarcely made its way across the paper in hesitancy. Others were quite obviously written with such vigour, that the sheets were almost torn and stained with blots of ink from a pen that had been pressed too harshly and hastily onto the paper - way too eager to get out the words.

The hands holding onto the letter kept trembling as the letter was studied. It read:

“My dearly beloved Staeve,

It seems we’ve gotten ourselves in quite the compromising position, haven’t we?Apparently, we do have a knack for this kind of thing, don’t you agree? It is nothing new for either of us, truly. How often have we gotten in trouble for something over the years? Quite frankly it might be a big part of the reason why my parents will finally be sending me off to the continent. I figure they fear what two - now grown - young men could get themselves into. And wouldn’t they be right?

A million times have we conspired together. A million plans. A million times it was us against the world. Together.

To our own surprise we haven’t always been discovered. But then again too often than we would have hoped. And yet we have always gotten out of a cornered situation.

This time it is different though.

I take it your sister hasn’t taken notice of what has happened that night. Or it might be that she doesn’t care - I was never able to read her well. And I do not dare to push her on the matter.

What could have happened had we been discovered in that moment? Truly discovered?

But to be quite frank that isn’t what I am concerned with. Not if I am being honest with myself.

You know I am a man of few regrets, Staeve. But I do regret having left like I did that fateful night. My mind kept whispering malicious things to me while my chest was burning, set ablaze by you and your lips. My heart was prepared to scream it all from the rooftops. But yet my anxious mind had me flee like lest we be found out.

But yet my heart keeps burning, the flames impossible to smother. I promise you I’ve tried. Only to find them flickering higher, brighter, hotter, whenever I tried.

And it has been hard to calm it for even just a moment since that fateful night on that chaise longue.

In the end, it has won over my mind even quicker than I thought as I still feel my chest burn with every single beat of my yearning heart. This is what my mind has been toiling with. This and the enticing idea of what would have happened had we not been disturbed, this impossible game of “what if”.

Would we have lost ourselves within each other, unravelled by our hands and touches. Would we have been void of words with only our bodies to speak the yet unspoken? Would we have gone all the way into oblivion together torn and then reformed together. And all to only be unravelled again and again until there had been nothing left but strings?

Strings we might have been able to have knitted into something new, something thoroughly intertwined?

Only the heavens may know.”

The words at the end of this page were thin; anxiously so. The author’s worries and fears clear already by how the words seemed to trail off at the bottom. In hopes perhaps, that they could just be shaken off the page lest they fall on deaf ears.

The next fresh page though started with bold writing again, even bolder than before. The written words proud, tall and unashamed:

“But I do know this: at night I lay unable to sleep with that blistering desire inside of me, slowly scorching me from the inside out. And when the heat becomes near unbearable, I lay there with nothing but the moon as a witness, touching myself while imagining - hoping - it was you. My hands wandering down over my own body and finding pleasure so easily and quickly - so intense - as they stroke and caress. Simply because it is you in my mind. The thought of you nearly enough to lose myself time and again.

I know I am a sinner for this, for my thoughts and my actions. But could a sin truly feel this heavenly? If this is what hell feels like, I will let it take me, gladly. I would welcome doom with open arms for just my actions, but truly, I’d much rather be doomed together with you, Staeve.

The feeling of your mouth on mine has been imprinted on me. I cannot forget it. I will die with the memory of your soft lips on mine on my mind as the last breath leaves my earthly body.

You've touched me a thousand times - a hug, a tap, a taunt - but not like this. Never like this. Not with that enticing intention, not with that need: giving, pleasing but also taking -  possibly all of me. And if I’m being true and honest to myself: I would give you all of myself - body, mind and soul. You may take it all!

Do you feel the same? Because even writing this letter I feel how restless my fingers are, how they itch to touch you again as well, how they need to feel you again: your lithe body, the skin of your face, your silken hair.

I just want to feel the warmth of you again, enveloping me, your body moving against mine as we fall together, endlessly.

And when your hands know me by heart, I want to feel your mouth all over my skin, tasting me before swallowing my confessions to you directly from my very own lips and tongue.

I want you to know me as deeply as no one has before. I fear no one else could ever understand me like you do anyways. And I hope, dearly, this is what you want too. I surely know it’s what I want with you: knowing you inside and out, better than myself.

Back in that moment it surely felt like that.

But memories are fleeting, fickle little things. Already I am questioning if I really saw the same yearning in your eyes I keep feeling in my very soul. But then again, it's not like this only transpired yesterday, hasn't it? Hasn’t this all been brewing for what feels like an eternity?”

Up until this paragraph the writing had been bold, the elegant cursive letters leaning so far it was easily distinguishable that they had been written without pause. Words that had  been too powerful to not let out.

But those next ones were more hesitant again. The pen had been pressed down to start many a time and then hastily taken off again, judging by how several blots and scratches of ink clouded the first letter of the next sentence.

But in the end even these words had found their way - either way:

“I reckon you know the feeling in the atmosphere before a thunderstorm approaches - when the tension is so dense it makes your hairs rise up. When the whole world seems to hold its breath, awaiting the inevitable.

Aren’t we just like that? Awaiting what deep down we have known for so long?

Aren’t we inevitable?

How long have we been like this? In that terrible limbo of potential and not yet made resolution?

Only for it to unload in but a blink of an eye, lightning hitting us both, scorching us through and through, down to our furthest depths - setting us brightly ablaze where light has never even reached before.

There is no way in which we could ever proceed, pretending as if we both haven’t been changed forever in this moment, changed at our innermost core - wouldn’t you agree?

At times I fear that all it would have taken was that one night. One night of scorching flames to then see the fire smothered. This - us - nothing but a quick intermezzo, a short crescendo that is quickly muffled and not to be heard again.

But whenever I think I’ve forgotten about this, about you, for a just moment, there it is again: the thought of you, impossible to get out of my head.

You are always there with me, Staeve, with every breath and every step.

You didn’t just light a candle inside of me, you started a wildfire.

And I welcome it - with all the heat, all the power, all the destruction it might bring but also the all encompassing warmth it might spend. I welcome it to be consumed by it!”

Before the final words of the letter there was generous space left. Quite obviously the author felt the need to let his final words take up room. The final conclusion to the letter read:

“I am in love with you, Staeve Brimstone.

I am in love with you - and looking back it feels like I have always been in love with you. From the moment I first laid eyes upon you up to the my last moments on this earth.

And even more than that: I need you. I fear I cannot live without you.

And even though it might be selfish - but we both know that I am -: I hope you need me too.

I hope to love you, Staeve, forevermore. And if I’m fortunate enough, that you will love me too.

Forever yours,

Astarion”

As eyes ran over the last page, the hands holding the letter had begun to tremble. They were gripping the paper so hard by now that knuckles showed white.

Then when the end had been reached they were shaking so much no word could have been made out anymore. The grip was crinkling up the paper now. Up until the pages were deliberately being crumpled angrily, pressed into a ball of paper, letters and emotions alike forced into an indiscernible mess.

With a few steps only, the way was made to the lit fireplace and the pages were given to the flames. The fire eagerly licked at the papers, ate it up until there was nothing left of the words and the long suppressed feelings they had finally expressed.

~~~

The Brimstone family had sat down for dinner. Or at least for their approximation of it. Viscount and Viscountess Brimstone were idly enjoying their dinner talking a bit of business, politics and gossip. Meanwhile, their son Staeve was more enticed by the workings of a small golden mechanical beetle his father had brought him as a souvenir from one of his business trips than by the meagre meal of roasted pork and vegetables he’d thrown onto his plate as more of an afterthought. The sleeves of his white linen shirt were rolled up to his elbows as he had discarded his doublet long ago to be able to move better and one of his suspenders threatened to give up on its job as it was dropping off his shoulder in his hunched over position. He had wholly reengineered what dinner time meant for him, much to the grievance of his parents. But dozens of tries to change first the boy’s and then the young man’s behaviour had failed. So at some point they had given up as long as he knew to behave when guests were over and was still honouring the family gathering times.

That usually meant that he was at least present during family dinner times, physically at least. But he’d only eat later, once it had all gotten cold. And then would sneak into the kitchen to grab seconds when he would have realised once more that tinkering around didn’t sate his bodily hunger. At least not enough.

His mother had long given up on trying to teach Staeve manners. When he had been a child she had been sure he would grow out of it. But once she had realised that his quirks had only been growing with him, she’d come to realise that it was for the best to just leave him be and hope for the best.

Only occasionally did she still try to enforce his older sister Nita as a role model to him. It never worked.

So, as Staeve was fumbling with his current project and his parents were lost in conversation, his sister Nita - void of any option to make dinner time pass any faster with her parents talking and her brother with his mind elsewhere - moved around some asparagus on her gold rimmed plate and wished she could’ve found an excuse to go eat with her younger siblings in the kitchen. Even they would have been a more ample entertainment discussing their playtime or perhaps their current tutor lessons.

That was until she thought of a way of hopefully grabbing Staeve’s attention for more than a fleeting moment.

“So, Staeve, have you found something to do yet, something to cope?”

Her brother’s tuft of green hair lifted shortly from where it had been bent over the small, intricately built beetle and some similarly delicate tool with which Staeve meant to dismantle the small object - thereby probably irreparably destroying it.

But the younger Brimstone shortly looked at his sister in irritation. Then his gaze snapped back to his hands and his workings and he began tinkering again.

“What?”

Nita rolled her eyes. “You know you are supposed to use full sentences, right?”

“Whoever has the time for that?”

“Ah see, he does speak in full sentences.”

Staeve grunted at his sister’s sarcasm but didn’t reward her with another glance.

Nita tried again.

“So have you?”

“I don’t think that was a full sentence.”

She was about ready to throw her fork at him, hoping it would drive the audacity right out of him - or at least take an eye. For a moment she debated just letting the silence draw out. But honestly she hadn’t been the one starting to be petty.

“You know, Staeve, I really get why even Astarion has decided to suddenly leave town when you’re being such a prick!” Nita almost shouted. That even had caught her parents’ attention now who immediately scolded her for her unladylike demeanour and choice of words.

She pouted, annoyed at how she had been the one being called out now instead of her brother.

And when she turned her head around again to throw him an angry glare she suddenly found she had finally caught his attention. Maybe even a bit too much of it because Staeve was now staring at her, eyes wide, face void of colour.

“What do you mean Astarion is leaving?”

Nita was about to snap at him again. But something in her brother’s gaze and his sudden stillness made her abandon the thought immediately.

“Didn’t- didn’t he tell you? I thought you always knew everything about each other.”

Immediately hurt flashed through Staeve’s teal eyes, too irritated to even try to hide it.

“Leaving when? Why?” Staeve’s voice was nothing more but a croak. A strand of hair had fallen into his eyes. He didn’t even bother pushing it out of his face.

Suddenly Nita felt unsure of what to do. Unsettled by her brother’s sudden burst of emotions. The only thing she came up with was snapping at him again.

“The Grand Tour, you idiot, what else.”

Staeve’s eyes widened even more. He set the small golden beetle and his tool down with a distinct thud, so hard, it even made their parents become silent and turn to their children in irritation.

“When?” Staeve simply followed up again. His words were terribly silent all of a sudden. Nita didn’t have it in her anymore to try and purposefully try and upset her brother. She threw a glance at the big mechanical clock - one of the few Staeve hadn’t disassembled yet: “I think right about now. They’re probably going to travel all through the night to catch a ship in the morning at one of the great harbours.”

Staeve didn’t wait for Nita to finish her sentence. He jumped up, almost making his chair fall over, staring at the clock. Their parents’ heads swivelled around trying to understand the cause of the commotion. But their son was already storming out of the room, not even sparing their scolding and quizzical looks another thought.

Immediately, Staeve made his way through the manor and down to the stables. As he rushed along servants, through a plethora of rooms and finally got outside, he realised that the weather was about to turn: an early summer evening threatening to bring a foreshadowing of yet far away autumn. The oncoming storm, announcing itself with distant thunder and dramatically darkening clouds, though, only felt like a fitting backdrop for what was brewing inside of him.

Questions filled Staeve’s mind as he made his way, and worries - and memories.

Every moment for the last couple of weeks since that fateful night had he basically been thinking about what happened. It only ever took him a split second to conjure up the scene again in his head: the last couple of breaths in which he had stared into Astarion’s eyes and how it had felt like he could see through them right to the bottom of his friend’s heart, the burning feeling of Astarion’s lips against his own and this desiring ache within him, physically and emotionally, threatening to rip him apart from the inside out.

He had been so sure Astarion had felt the same. And hadn’t his friend been the one looking up at him with such pleading in his crimson eyes, lips already parted in anticipation before they had met halfway?

But maybe Staeve was remembering it all wrong. He certainly must be. Why else would his lifelong companion leave him now unannounced?

Loads of feelings were forming up inside his chest, waiting to burst - like thunder after lightning had struck in the far off distance.

Staeve made his way to the stables to grab Freckle while his mind was somewhere completely else. He didn’t even stop to put a saddle or reins on her. A terrible premonition told him he hadn’t any time to waste. And the mare was used to being ridden like this, after all they were a well-practised team.

The young Brimstone led his horse outside and immediately felt raindrops seeping through his thin linen shirt and trousers. He couldn’t have cared less. Wasting no more time he jumped onto his mare’s back and with a click of his tongue and soft nudge from his boots they were off in a dash, cutting through the oncoming rain.

As Staeve thundered down the small trodden out road from the Brimstone estate towards the Ancuníns’ residence the rain turned from just a trickle to a pour - the kind that would turn grasslands into swamps for a good while after and dust roads into murky rivers. His mind was racing at an even more outrageous speed as the gigantic manor of his friend’s family came into view.

Lifting his head while holding onto Freckle’s mane as the horse felt his owner’s urgency and gave him her all, Staeve searched for the familiar sight of that one particular window with a light on inside, hoping it would betray his sister’s words. The one where Astarion often already had been peeking out of in wait for his companion to come by. The one where they had sat countless of times, talking, laughing, smoking some stolen cigars and choking on the burning smoke when they had been only boys.

But the lights were off.

And Staeve’s fears turned into all encompassing panic as he closed in on the giant building as he didn’t dare to let himself hope anymore. The rain around him had him fully drenched by now, his loose shirt clinging wetly to his body. Already he felt hot tears adding to the uncomfortably cold rain running down his face.

When he finally came around the manor, he found nothing but an ill-fated stable hand rushing through the downpour, perhaps tasked with a few last things before being allowed to flee the bad weather. Not even hesitating Staeve rode up right next to him making the poor boy shriek and stumble back from the horse making the gravel fly with a sliding stop.

“Astarion Ancunín?” he only managed to scream against the rain.

The boy just stared up at him, obviously too startled at the sight of Staeve like this. He probably looked like a madman. And he felt like one: not properly dressed, drenched to the bone on his equally aggregated steed. Even more so the more time he spent chasing down a man in this storm who so obviously tried to get away from him without him knowing.

But he needed to see him, at least a final time. One more try.

“The Duke’s son?” Staeve shouted again at the stable hand. And finally the boy seemed to have recovered from his stupor.

“Left. With his father the Duke, in the fancy carriage,” the answer came back, shouted against another thunder in the distance - the heart of the storm was coming closer.

Staeve’s chest clenched. Freckle became nervous beneath him. Even a well trained horse like her didn’t want to be out longer than needed in this weather. But just a moment more.

“When?” he screamed.

“Dunno exactly, couple of minutes, just when the storm started.”

Staeve needn’t hear more. Time was of the essence now. He spurred on his horse once more and left the befuddled boy behind who even forgot to finally rush inside and instead stared after Staeve racing off again.

The roads were already muddy, an endless amount of puddles strewn across them while Staeve made the decision to go for the hill overlooking the Ancunín lands, the one with the weeping willow. There he’d be able to see how far out they were already on the country road leading away from town.

But when he arrived at the foot of said hill and dashed on with Freckle, his horse slipped and almost took a tumble. And since his or his horse’s broken neck surely wouldn’t make him be any faster, Staeve slid off his mare’s back and continued on foot.

The rain kept pouring onto him as he rushed up the hill, his booted feet sinking into the wet ground. Several times he almost took a tumble when his boots sank in too deep. Illustrious curses that would have made his mother blush and his father scold him, left Staeve’s lips as he ran up the grassy hill as fast as possible, barely able to see anything anymore with the rain slashing his face. He didn’t even notice how the freezing cold crept into his body, his limbs, how his fingers began to become stiff. His whole body was shaking, as much from the cold and the wet, as from the feelings still burning inside his chest - the only thing still spending a bit of warmth.

Staeve reached the top of the hill and the weeping willow atop of it - honouring its name as rain kept dripping generously off its tendrils. Trying to wipe at least some of the rain out of his face and panting heavily from running, Staeve’s eyes flew along the road leading out of town, willing the carriage to be there, so he’d know he could still catch them. Or at least a glimpse, of him. To at least wave a last goodbye. Because he didn’t know when - if - his friend would ever return.

And he spotted the carriage. Right there, at the very end of what Staeve could make out. Just before it disappeared around a final turn of the road - and out of sight.

~~~

Inside the carriage Astarion was craning his neck only a little to see Ancunín manor slowly disappear behind the lazily sloping hills of the countryside as the wagon rattled along the road leading away from town. Now the ancient weeping willow was the last familiar landmark before the road would lead them along faceless fields and forests rushing past them, only there to be forgotten again in an instance. The storm was doing its part to make Astarion’s last impression of his home even more dull: clouds and the rain almost washing all of the colours out of this final sight.

This might very well have been the only time in his life when his heart actually ached at the thought of leaving home - or rather him.

Only a few weeks ago had he hoped to spend an incredible last summer with Staeve, his childhood friend. Especially as he had been sure of something new budding between them, something that could have meant them being more than companions possibly. Something that either might have been honestly terrified to explore. They could have gone down this road together.

But it seemed that instead of choosing this final adventure and what treasures and secrets might have been ahead, Staeve had chosen utter and complete silence. To his letter as much as his departure. Astarion had been unable to figure out what to make of it.

However, wasn’t the absence of an answer a response of its own?

Questions, regrets, fear and hurt were all swirling around inside of Astarion’s chest as he feigned indifference staring out the small window the rain kept drumming on. He was covering most of his face with his hand turned away from the other passenger in hopes it would make him look bored and hide his frown - and more than anything, the tears burning dangerously in the corners of his eyes.

Writing that letter, taking a leap of faith had taken nearly all of his courage.

When that kiss had happened after that invaded soiree, it had been easy. Fueled by the evening, laughter and lots of liquid courage it had been easy to fall into Staeve’s arms. It had been easy to be open about what had been building up inside of him for so long.

But writing this letter stone cold sober had been near impossible: opening up about everything that, all his life, he had been taught to keep hidden behind his orderly closed button border, tugged away behind a starched collar closed so firmly it made one choke. Admitting to desires that would make him a wretched sinner in the eyes of his family and society. And finally confessing his feelings to his lifelong friend, risking everything they’ve had. It had been taxing, hard, painful.

And in the end, apparently, he had paid the price.

In front of him, the Duke Ancunín kept talking about their travelling plans while Astarion could feel his heart get torn into pieces the further away from home they travelled. A piece of it begging to be allowed to stay.

“Son, it is a great honour that Monsignore Constantin will take you in for a few extra weeks as his disciple. He is very strict but he is the best,” the Duke repeated his words in a sharper tone when he noticed his son not paying attention. “He will make an upright man out of you, Astarion, I know it.”

“Oh, will he? I can barely wait,” Astarion replied with bitter sarcasm in his voice. His father, in response, was near boiling with anger at his son’s insolent behaviour.

“He has his methods, son, you will see. He will let none of your nonsense slip, I will make sure of it!” The Duke’s words cracked like a whip. But the young man didn’t care, his eyes were still trained on the outside, on the weeping willow becoming smaller in the distance. He didn’t honour his father’s wrath with another response.

The carriage filled with nothing but the sound of drumming rain and thunder rolling ever closer. When the older Ancunín apparently realised his anger would get him nowhere he tried a different route of grasping his son’s attention.

“Hasn’t the young Brimstone come to say his goodbyes to you, my son? Is that why you keep brooding?”

Astarion’s gaze snapped to his father, immediately betraying that he had spoken the truth. He felt how his brows drew together as pain flared up in his chest even more. Trying to get it back under control quickly he looked back outside the window as the carriage shook along the road in worsening conditions.

But his father had cracked right open what had been bothering him and finally Astarion gave up on trying to hide. What did it matter now anyways? The cards had been dealt.

The young Ancunín let his hands fall into his lap but kept looking outside as he felt how the tears in his eyes threatened to become overbearing.

“He hasn’t actually,” Astarion admitted. “In fact, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. Not since I’ve sent him a letter a while ago,” he continued, voice flat and emotionless.

“A letter? How uncommon for the two of you,” the Duke threw in with a tinge of irony coating his words like bile. In a knee jerk reaction Astarion’s crimson gaze burned in anger at his father’s vile words. But in the end he wasn’t wrong. The young noble resorted to throwing a last glance upon the willow up on the hill.

“Come to think of it though, my son, I do remember seeing the letter,” the Duke rambled on. “And I remember handing it over to the butler so it may get delivered quickly.” Astarion turned away a little further once more from his father as he felt his composure threatening to break fully. “A difference of opinions maybe?,” his father finished.

Astarion didn’t see the slight tilt of the corners of his father’s mouth as he let the words roll off his tongue, not hiding his distaste for the young Brimstone.

The young Ancunín only could feel the final nail being put into the coffin with his father’s final words. His last string of hope he had been holding onto snapped in two just like that.

“Possibly,” Astarion simply replied, kneading his hands in his lap, emotions threatening to overwhelm him fully.

“Maybe even more than that,” he added after a while as he finally let his gaze fall from the last sight of his hometown.

Had he averted his eyes just a moment later he would have made out the figure of a dark-skinned, green-haired young man appearing beneath the weeping willow in the storm. But like this, thunder cracked as the carriage took a turn and Astarion’s home and his lifelong friend went out of sight.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Anonymous asked: When do you trust yourself instead of writing what you're supposed to? I've reworked my current novel over a dozen times to nudge the structure closer to more standard ones, but it's just not working. It completely unravels until I barely recognize it anymore and gets worse with every attempt. I end up changing it back, until I remember that I'm not even remotely qualified to make that kind of decision, and then the cycle starts all over again. I'm starting to wonder if this story just simply can't exist? Or do I trust myself and write it the way I want to even though it's the wrong? I've been writing long enough to feel ashamed for asking this question, but only short stories and a disaster of a nanowrimo novel, so working on a Real Novel is entirely new and very scary territory. I know there's not technically a right or wrong way to write, but you also have to learn the rules before you break them and since this is my first Real Novel, I haven't shown that I know the rules yet, so I obviously shouldn't break them, right? I'm going absolutely nuts.

[Ask edited for length]

Imagine if you loved to embroider and crochet, then one day you decided to take up knitting, and you decided to start with a really complicated sweater pattern. As you can imagine, that's probably not the best project for your first time knitting, even if you are skilled at other types of needlework.

Writing is no different... when you shift from writing short stories to long fiction, if you're trying to tackle a really ambitious plot, you're going to plot yourself into knots. And that does sound like what may be happening. If it was a simple, straightforward plot--the kind that is friendly for a first-sort-of-second novel writer--it probably wouldn't be unraveling so easily.

So, one thing to consider is whether it might be time to set this story aside for a little while. You're not scrapping it... you're just letting it percolate in the background for a little bit while you hone your novel writing skills on something easier to tackle. And remember, every novel you write doesn't have to be with the intention of publication. In fact, it's quite rare that people publish the first or even second novel they ever wrote. Sometimes, just giving yourself the permission to write something uncomplicated and fun (for you to write), without the pressure of it having to be publishable, makes all the difference in the world. When you can focus on the story and sharpening your skills, your brain suddenly has the bandwidth to actually grow.

And... another possibility is you just do write this story the way you want to write it, not worrying about the "should do this" or "should do that." Just let it be what it wants to be, take the practice you get from it, and move onto something else. Even that doesn't bar you from coming back to it later, when your skills have improved, and doing more with it than you're capable of doing now. Sometimes, the answer is just beyond our reach, but when you give yourself time to grow as a writer, the answers can be as plain as day. ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart  || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin || Chapter 20A: I Don’t Need Nothing When I’m By Your Side || Chapter 20B: I’m Walkin’ Down This Rocky Road || Chapter 20C: You're The Only One Who Gets Through To Me || Chapter 20D: Together We Can Make It A Dream ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 20E: My Main Objective Is To Get You To Turn Your Mind Around

You are in my system Got me right down to the wire You are in my system Help my equilibrium You are in my system…

 -- “You Are In My System,” Robert Palmer (1983) [click here to listen]

North Carolina || February 1989

Raymond scribbled on a fresh sheet in his notebook. Absently running his hand through his hair. Clearly thinking.

“All right,” he said, after a while. “Before I walk you through my plan – I need to ask you something. Both of you.”

“Anything,” Claire replied instantly.

“I need you to commit to this. To therapy. To getting better and stronger, as individuals and as a couple.”

“Of course,” Jamie breathed.

“Yes,” Claire echoed.

Raymond tilted his head, just a bit. “What I am going to ask of you will be a significant commitment of time and energy and effort. Obviously we’ll need to modify things to account for travel, but you need to agree to prioritize this.”

“Yes, I agree.” Jamie reached across the table for Raymond’s notebook. He flipped to an empty page, wrote I commit to Raymond’s plan, signed his name and wrote the date. He pulled back to let Claire sign her pledge and name as well.

“You don’t know what you’re agreeing to yet,” Raymond said quietly.

Jamie met his skeptical gaze. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here for a reason. I – we – want your help. So whatever you recommend, I will commit to doing.”

“Me too,” Claire added, pushing the notebook back across the table.

Raymond cleared his throat. “Well then. On typical days I’d like to have three sessions. Half an hour with each of you individually, and then an hour with both of you together. With the individual sessions taking place before our group session.”

“We can definitely do that.” Claire gripped Jamie’s hand on top of the table. “What do you think?”

Jamie nodded. “Yes. We will make it work. This is important. And you’ll of course be available if we need more time?”

“Definitely. To the extent you want time with me, I will make myself available. Nobody else – not your bandmates, Colum, not anyone on the crew – will be a client. I will quite literally be on call for you, 24/7. Jamie, if you start to have a panic attack, I don’t care what time it is or where we are, if you’re comfortable with me being there then I want to be there to help you.”

“And to support Claire,” Jamie added. “I won’t put all of that burden on her. It’s not fair to her.”

Claire squeezed her husband’s hand.

Raymond pivoted to face Claire across the table. “And Claire – I’m here for you in equal measure. I know you’re still adjusting to your sobriety. And I doubt you’ve worked through all of the trauma associated with your ex-husband.”

Claire swallowed. Jamie pulled her a little closer.

“So – if it ever feels too much, and especially if you start feeling like you’re losing a sense of yourself, when you’re so far away from home, and so out of your element…I want you to come to me. I want you to talk it through with me. And when you’re ready, we can talk with Jamie about it.”

She nodded, grateful.

“This goes without saying, but I’ll need you to continue to be as honest and open with me as possible. Our therapy isn’t going to work, otherwise. I’ve had clients in the past who struggled to be honest, and it ended up undermining their recovery. Especially the addicts.”

Claire poured a fresh glass of water for Raymond. He drank it all at once. Clearly choosing his next words very carefully.

“I will never judge you for anything you do or say – about your past or present selves. But the more you share, the more I can help you. And nothing you say to me will ever make its way to anyone else. Not Colum, not Ian and Angus, certainly not the crew. Definitely not the press. I’m bound by my professional code of ethics. And of course I’d never put you in that position.”

“Thank you,” Jamie breathed. “I want so hard for the most important things in my life to stay private.”

“But,” Raymond added, “If something comes up in one of our individual sessions that I think would benefit being discussed in our group session, I hope you’ll give me your permission to raise it. You’re already very open with each other, which makes my job easier. But I’m sure that both of you have things you haven’t told the other person about. So, I want you to know that if I bring up something one of you told me, in the presence of the other person, it’s purely because I want to get to the heart of a topic. To prompt a fruitful discussion.”

“I’m all right with that. I want to get better.” Jamie looked at Claire. Raised their joined hands to his lips, for a kiss. “I want us to get better, and stronger.”

“All the more reason to be honest with each other, and with me. Because as my favorite medical school professor told us – honesty has room for secrets, but not for lies. Do you agree?”

Jamie and Claire nodded.

Raymond smiled kindly. “I am so glad to have this opportunity to help and support you, at such this pivotal moment in your lives.”

Jamie laughed. “Don’t thank us yet. See how you feel in August, when you’ve been on the road for four months and you’re in bumfuck nowhere in Scandinavia and the blackout curtains won’t work in the hotel so that you can sleep.”

Raymond flipped to a new sheet in his notebook, smiling. “I’m going to recommend you do something, Jamie. Earlier we were talking about how it’s good to get a little separation sometimes.”

Jamie nodded, curious.

“I’m suggesting that you go out to L.A. in two and a half weeks, but on your own, with Claire staying here. She may fly out, let’s say, the final week. Or maybe not at all. What would you think about that?”

Jamie pursed his lips. Jaw clenching.

“I know why you’re suggesting it, Raymond. But…”

Raymond let the moment stretch. Watching, with Claire, Jamie process his thoughts.

“I want to say, no, I’ll never agree to that. I can’t go that long without having Claire with me.” He dropped Claire’s hand and crossed his arms.

“Why?”

“Besides the fact that I’ll miss her every second we’re apart? Because when I’m on the road, and doing industry stuff, and playing gigs, I know I’m going to see the things that I’m addicted to.”

“And you’re afraid that you’ll slide right back into that life, if you’re by yourself?”

Jamie heaved a deep breath. Raymond watched Claire hold herself back from giving her husband even the gentlest, most reassuring touch.

“Do you think he’d do that, Claire?”

She shook her head. “No way.”

Jamie huffed skeptically. “You have too much faith in me.”

“You should have more faith in yourself!” She stood, hands on her hips. “You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Jamie. Why don’t you see that?”

He covered his face with his hands, breathing deeply. “I know what I can do, Claire, when I lose control.”

“So do I, Jamie. But I know what you can do when you keep control. I know what you can say no to. Do you not remember that party in New York? It was hard, so fucking hard, but even though people were drinking all around us, and that model was doing coke two feet away from you,you were fine!”

Raymond kept his voice steady. “Do you really believe that at the drop of a hat, you’d forget your vows to Claire, Jamie? That you’d forget your commitment to sobriety?”

He nodded.

“But that’s never happened.” Claire lay a calm hand on Jamie’s shoulder, squeezing. “And just because I won’t be right next to you, or in the hotel room waiting for you, doesn’t mean that you will forget your promises.”

She rubbed his shoulder, so gentle.

“And, Jamie – to be honest, I could use the time here. To get to know the people at the clinic a bit better, get to know what kind of support they need. Obviously I won’t be around when we’re in Europe, and maybe not even after that if I come home pregnant. But I want them to get to know me, and I want to get to know them. And the best way I can do that is by spending time there, on my own. I can’t do that if I’m in L.A.”

Jamie pulled back to look up at his wife. She smiled down at him, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

Raymond gave them a moment before speaking. “When I suggested you go to L.A. alone, Jamie, you mentioned how you would feel, but you didn’t mention how you thought Claire would feel. Does what she wants not matter to you?”

“Of course it matters to me.” Jamie sounded a bit hurt.

“But you didn’t use those words to say that,” Raymond replied. “And you didn’t ask her what she thought about my idea. Claire does have a life beyond being your wife. She’s trying to find her footing. And she needs more space to do that. Has she ever told you that?”

Jamie looked directly at his wife. “Not like that,” he said softly. “Am I being too selfish?”

“You can be, sometimes.” Claire took a deep breath. “I know we’re both still healing, and figuring out how we live our lives together when everything is so complicated. This life we have together – it’s so wonderful, but it’s also so overwhelming. I want a family with you, Jamie – but I also want my career back. I know it won’t look like it did before, and I don’t want it to. And not right this instant, maybe not for a few more years. We have time to talk about it and figure that out.” She smiled at him. “That’s why I’m so glad that Raymond is here. Because he’ll give us the space to talk about these things.”

“Creating that space helps. So does re-framing a situation.” Raymond shifted in his chair. “Consider this: instead of feeling loss that you’re not together when Jamie is in L.A., or being afraid of what the world is like without the other…think of it as, two or so weeks of building new memories to eventually share. Two weeks of anticipation, to the buildup to being back together.”

“I like that,” Jamie said quietly. “And I see what you’re doing, Raymond. Turning something that could be negative, into something positive.”

“He’s not wrong, Jamie.”

Jamie sighed. “I know, Claire. I need time for me, and you need time for you. But I’ll still call you every day. Probably annoy the hell out of you.”

She laughed. “Of course you will. I want you to.” She turned to Raymond. “Can we start our sessions with you while he’s in L.A.?”

“Of course. We can do it all over the phone. But we can start tomorrow, if you like.”

Claire turned back to her husband. “Raymond asked us to be honest, Jamie. So when you speak with him, be honest. And when we have our session together, be honest. This is why we need his help. If you feel like you’re cracking, you need to fucking tell us. Do you understand?”

Jamie nodded. “I love you,” he rasped.

“I love you,” she laughed. “It’s just a few weeks, Jamie. Then we’ll be in Europe. You’ll get sick of me.”

He laughed, and it transformed his face. “Not possible.” He turned to look at Raymond. “I think you’ve got your work cut out for you, Doc.”

Raymond closed his notebook. “Well, you two will certainly keep things interesting.”

[thegreatwicked]

Writing Resources Part 2

My first list was so long I decided that I reached the character limit! So we have a part two! I'm going to try and keep them a bit more organized too! Hope these help you all in your writing endeavors and if you happen to use any of them try to give the original source some love!

Also, apologies if I've tagged you more than once and it's annoying! If I reference your material more than twice I will just link your whole Tumblr. I really do want to make sure everyone gets their credit and spotlight!

General Information and Research:

The Fantasy Guide to Royal and Noble Marriages or anything by @inky-duchess Her blog is extensive and is a wealth of information regarding things like royalty/nobility/Period social politics and is a fantastic resource, go check her out! Ink I do appologize I might be tagging you more than once!

@type1diabetesinfandom This blog is an amazing resource if you are interested in writing about characters with any form of diabetes or similar health issues. It was ana amzing find when I was writing my character Belladonna Black from Shadows of Deception who is hypoglycemic. What an amazing source!

How to Cook in a Medieval Setting: by @alpaca-clouds Food is the best way to know a culture and this particular blog post is a trove of information for your fictional foodie set anywhere in this spectrum of time or a great find for a fictional setting! This post obviously gets a chefs kiss!

The Symbolism of Flowers by @novlr Yeah! Leopold knew what he was talkign about, every flower has a meaning and it is entirely possible to send some a bouquette that translates to 'Fuck You' btw it consists of geraniums (stupidity), foxglove (insincerity), meadowsweet (uselessness), yellow carnations (you have disappointed me), and orange lilies (hatred). it would be quite striking! and full of loathing. THE MORE YOU KNOW. This blog is also a fantastic source for writers.

Writing About Body Pain by @slayingfiction I just came across this gem of a blog and if you're one who likes to make your characters sufffer than look no further, also, how ya doing? You ok? Just checking. This blog is also a fantastic writing resource.

How to Accurately Describe Pain in Writing by @hayatheauthor kinda piggybacking off the previous source but nevertheless lets make sure we make these characters suffer realistically? I'm ok too, if you're wondering. This is another great blog that focuses on the aspect of being a writer.

How to Use Canva to Make Mood Boards by @saradika I did not know much about mood baords but I'm telling you they are a gaem changer! They bring a life to your story in a way that is just so stunning and saradika has been so lovely as to make this helpful guide! She's also a very talented writer and is quite the Star Wars Fan! GO check out her stories!

Researching as a Writer by @so-many-ocs Research is a tricky topid to delve into and sometime sit hard to know where to start, this blogger has been so kinda as to make a bit of a roadmap to help you narrow down what you need to research and how. Wonderful blog! Very helpful!

Resources for Writing Deaf, Mute, or Blind Characters by @thecaffeinebookwarrior THIS! This right here is a gem and the only reason I don't write these types fo characters is because I've never known how to do so respectfuly and realistically! Not a problem anymore! Also a wonderful artist!

How to Write and Research a Mental Illness another gem from @hayatheauthor again if you're going to wrote a character with a mental illness lets make sure we get it right!

@namesforwriters It's little but a wonderful source of unique names for your story! Including mythology and music themed names!

Nightmare Disorder vs Night Terrors by @redd956 Some great clarification from a blogger who is diagnosed! So happy I found this as I was wondering about the distinction myself for a little while!

Types of Gemstones by @blueboxbeagle and brought to my attention by @keffirinne

A General Cane Guide for Writers and Artists by @deoidesignand brought to my attention but @cripplecharacters I was so excited to find this fantastic little gem recently and I look forward to using it! I'm keeping an eye out for more material in portraying characters with disabilities and disorders maybe it'll get it's own post!

@cripplecharacters linking this amazing blogger if you are wanting to expand your characters and write them with disabilities or diaper fees, this is a wonderful source of how to do it and stay respectful!!

@writingwithcolor use that painters pallet and write diverse characters and when you’re not sure what or how to write something check this blog out! Such a wonderful source for all questions concerning ethnicity, race and diversity!

@writinglgbtq I was looking for this blog!!! Your source for all things concerning writing the LGBTQ community respectfully and believably! So happy to ah e found this!!

@macgyvermedical I have been looking for a blog like this for some time and I'm so happy to add it to my writing resources list as tehre are far too many great and helpful posts to pick just one. Check out this amazing blogger who offers medical beta reads and asks for fanficiton!

Make it Pretty! My own contribution to help make writing a bit prettier! ꧁☽✶☾✶☽꧂ Enjoy!

Adding Page Breaks & Art to Your Stories Another of my own contributions for adding in nice clean page breaks to your stories as well as how to upload art to AO3, FFN and Wattled.

More will be added to this post as I find it and if you find anything that fits the general research on broad topics or specifics please let me know so I can continue this collective writing resource! And make sure to give some of these wonderful writers and bloggers some love!

[sonicblueartist]

Rayman x Reader

A/N: He is the Rayman from the games, there is no other choice for this story, sorry~ But you can think either romantic or platonic for this :)

I'll try to make this as fluffy as I can. My angst loving soul don't know how to write fluff lmao

Writing Rayman from the games is something else for me. In really good ways

Nothing written in this story has anything to do with games plot. I wrote it all myself ;)

Summery: We both try to escape from some weird creatures

Warnings: Intense cursing

Words: 2.6k

Masterlist

Taglist: @blorbostation @eateableworm @livelaughluvvfaithyy @darkchanx @astoraa @shiroisotto64

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

Dear anons; I would really appreciate it if you could choose an emoji while sending your asks and requests (and stick with it) so I can tell you apart. Thank you~

Couldn't choose between all these moments for the gif so I added every one of them (probably gonna regret that later lol Because I no longer have any good gifs for him any more but whatever.)

Seeing Rayman angry is just a cherry on top.

I am going to post this but I feel bad for not writing fluff/comfort/pure lovely moments like I planned to, so I might write down something cute for him soon~

I really wanted to write something cartoon-ish too because, you know, Rayman is very much 'cartoon-ish', he is made for that. I guess at least I made that come true instead of a full fluff.

Also, I may have relieved my exam stress on him 👀💦

On The Run

What's happening? You don't have a clue. You only knew that Rayman ran past you in the forest ten minutes ago without even stopping to say hi, he looked really panicked too you have to say. And quickly after Rayman's hand came back, finding your own and quickly sweep away your taken aback body before the spears met with you. And, well, you were suddenly included in a chase you don't have a clue about.

You two run for your dear little lives, in the meantime dodging a few spears thrown to pierce through your guts and quickly jump behind a few bushes out of breath. Hearing angry yells and screams increasing you both held your breath in. A few seconds later all of them ran past you. You heaved a relieved sigh.

What with this all about? Well, obviously you don't have all the details but you knew someone who did. You can finally question him about all this. With a scowl you turn to face him, finding him invading your personal space, not that you minded (it was funny, really), sticking to your side desperately, maybe that's not the right word to use but he was definitely, on purpose or not, sticking to you like a little kid would do to their mother, still eyeing for any intruders. If you weren’t so angry you would find that cute. Honestly at that moment, you didn't give a fuckthought. Your blood boils in anger. You weren't mad at him. You were tired and worried. Okay, maybe your tired body turning your worry into anger a bit. But you are angry at his reckless side. How wouldn't you be? You know he did something again that bothered these people. (It could also be the fact that because all people on this planet are either crazy or whatever) But it's not like he is doing that on purpose. But he still needs to be more mindful of his surroundings.

You whisper shouted, nudging his chest with your finger, causing him to look at you, "What the fuck did you do this time Rayman?!" You panthed out with a glare. Asking nicely? What is that?

He stared at you surprised (maybe a bit hurt) and huffed out, "What do you mean this time? I didn't do anything!" He scoffed, a hand over his heart with an offended tone.

You rolled your eyes at that and glanced outside, you quickly duck seeing more of them walking past the bush. You cursed under your breath. Thankfully they were dumber than they look.

You glanced at him, "Why do they want you?" You whispered with a hiss.

He smirked, "Who knows! I mean I can't blame them. Everyone wants me!" Here he goes again, you were being dead serious and he starts joking.

You stared at him with the most dumbfounded and sour expression you ever weared, "They fucking want your guts out, you idiot! Don't start with me with those cheesy lines!”

He mushed his lips and stared at you. You stared back with a raised brow. He couldn't hold his stare much longer with how you're glaring at him and finally grumbled out defeated, hiding away from your intense stare, "Okay, okay fine! It might be... a little bit my fault."

You scoffed, "A little bit?”

"I admitted didn't I?”

"What did you do?"

He avoided you with a comedic sweat, "Ahhh…”

"Rayman. What Did You Do?”

"You're going to be so mad." He chuckled nervously.

You can't be more mad then you already are. But again, your expression softened with how actually nervous he looked about all this. You knew he felt guilty. You know him after all. You let out a long silent sigh and reached out to hold his hands, pressing your thumbs over the back of them, kind of stroking to ease him up, "Rayman, I promise I will not yell at you anymore then I already did. Just tell me. I need to know." You sounded more like reassuring yourself then him. Did you forgive him? No? You don't know what you are even forgiving him about! But you did actually soften up on him.

He didn't believe that but confessed anyway, "I uh... might... accidentally woke up a whole civilization??" He sounded unsure of himself.

You stared at him, and he stared back.

"What... the fuck?" What does that suppose to mean?

He laughed, "I said the same thing until you find me and drag me away, my divine savior~" Wasn't that the opposite?

You sighed and grabbed the bridge of your nose, "I feel like I am gonna regret asking this but... how?"

He tapped his chin, "Well, I also have no idea! I was walking around the forest a few hours ago then I found myself in the underground. I guess the ground may have shifted or the place I was standing in collapsed. Either way I find myself exploring the cave to find a way out and, well, that's how I find the burrow. And here we are!" He continued despite seeing your progressive disturbed expression, "They were really aggressive and grumpy, I think they want some kind of revenge for disturbing their sleeping ritual or something—”

You reach your hand and shut him up with a tired face, "Okay, I think that's enough information. We are gonna think of something now. We need to avoid them and find a way back to send them whatever place they come crawling from. Okay..." You muttered to yourself.

Rayman grabbed your hand off of his mouth and muttered your name.

"Not now, I am thinking.”

"But-”

You sushed him, "No, nope, sush, no talking! I don't wanna listen! Just lemme think!”

He stared at you unamused but his expression quickly changed to something nervous. He called out your name again this time a bit louder.

You groaned, rubbing your face, "Ray, What part of "be quiet" don't you understand? What do you want?! You want them to find us?!”

He choked out, "Ahh, about that…”

"Look I only wanted a peaceful day today, getting chased by a crazy herd, not what I had in mind- annnd.... They find us, didn't they?" You sighed.

He nodded, "Pretty much." Soon enough all kinds of sharp-tipped spares were extended towards from all sides. You both quickly raised your hands in the air, surrounded by them. You cursed under your breath not amused at all.

"Well, this could have gone much worse.”

You soon find yourselves in a cell, soon to be turned into a chewing toy. Surrounded by many of them readying the meal you will be in today.

"You have to jinx it, didn't you?" Before he can open his mouth again you threatened showing a rock, "If you open your mouth one more time I swear I’ll force this inside your mouth—”

He raised his hand, "Jeez, alright, alright. I am sorry! What got into you today?” He knew you wouldn't actually do that. You love him too much for that. (But, did you have it in you? Yes. Would you actually do that if he was someone else? Most definitely. Is he afraid of this fact? Absolutely. He definitely know to not underestimate you.) He couldn't help but admit that it sounded so absurd coming from you in that moment though. It also shouldn't amused him but it did.

You forced a short laugh, "What got into me? Oh, lemme think." You sarcastically mumbled, mocking him and tapped your chin as if you were thinking.

He frowned, not letting you start sorting it all out, "Okay, okay. I get it. I said sorry, didn't I? It was lame of me to even ask that. Sorry for trying to be nice.” He stuck his tongue out playfully.

"A sorry not gonna save us from becoming a MEAL OF THE DAY!!" You groaned.

He hummed and shrugged, "I wouldn't worry much. After all this isn't the first time I was imprisoned.”

You stared at him, "We saved your ass when you were imprisoned."

"Saved me?" He smirked, "If I remember correctly, which I know I am, you and Globox were also imprisoned for the sake of saving me, I am touched really. Though it was a weak plan, assuming being held captive was part of your idea~"

You grumbled grimacing, "It was Globox's idea. I didn't have anything better to do so I just followed along. BUT we did save your ass didn't we? That's what counts! Besides, I'm not seeing you having any bright ideas!!”

"Who said I didn't have any?" He grinned, noticing your pause.

You give him a face, "If you had a plan this whole time... WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY SO?!" God, so that’s why he has been acting so relaxed! He has always been some kind of a laid back person, but this would be too much (Not counting the fact that he knows when to strike). In fact, he should have been happy that he had a reasonable explanation for this situation because you were about to slap him hard for how careless he had been so far and how careless he had been all day.

"Calm down! It was a work in progress and now I am not gonna jinx it again. So, are you in or not?”

You give him a side glare at him and turn away.

He sighed, "Look, I am sorry. Sincerely, coming from the deepest of my heart. I really didn't mean to cause all this. It's also my fault that you are involved in my mess too. So, at least let me help to fix it, okay? You can kick my ass after this." He kind of dragged you away, yes, but it was to save you and you were thankful that he did (how wouldn't you?) but that doesn't mean he is also the one to start all these.

You heaved a sigh, and shook your head with a soft smile, "Lead the way, eggplant." You grinned seeing his little eye roll. You definitely gonna remember the last thing he said.

“I will save us. That’s a promise.” He sounded even more genuine.

“Yeah, yeah. You better be. I don’t wanna end up as a snack before bedtime. So, care to tell me the plan?”

He grinned mischievously, a determined glint in his eyes, "You will find out soon enough. You know me. It's not that complicated to figure out. Even better when you know they are not too smart to figure out."

You raised a brow not fond of him still depriving you of an explanation. But you guessed it was better to leave like that seeing those creatures still roaming all around.

Soon after your 'nice' conversations you both find yourselves tied up together in a cauldron full of water with a fire burning underneath. The creatures throwing chopped vegetables on you.

Your unamused expression hardened, "How much longer are we going to wait?" You grumbled. "They are slowly cooking us alive!"

"Yeah, I won't be a good dinner for them. You have more areas where they can chew off." You swear he was laughing behind you. You growled and hit him in the head with your own, you had no other option. Your arms were tied. "Don't start again! I'm serious! I'm starting to get worried. My feet are burning!”

He hissed in pain, "Sorry, force of habit... or maybe coping... either way..." he took a sharp breath, "My plan gonna work."

"You are not even doing anything! What kind of plan is that? Just admit already that you have no idea how we can get out of this station!”

"No, because I do. I'm just waiting for the right moment.”

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, yeah. And I believe that. I am sure you do-- Wait a fucking moment." You hissed. You can't belive you forget about his ability, "You fucking have control all over your body! Whatever the floaty, gravity bending thing you do! You can easily get out of this rope!! They only tied our bodies, not hands or feet! Fuck! Why didn't you do something about this earlier Rayman?! Are you trying to piss me off on purpose! I swear---" Your words are stuffed inside your mouth, literally. One of the creatures got annoyed (or tired) of your talking and harshly pushed an apple in your mouth. Your eye twitched in annoyance. Rayman glanced back with a stuffed laugh. Okay, maybe you did deserve this but you are not gonna admit that. You gave him a death glare and he quickly looked away. But you still heard his stuffed snickers and feel his shaking body.

He nudges your side with his hand and your eyes quickly widen, "For your concern, ya think I would forget about something my own body capable of since forever? I already handled that. And for your nice question, like I said, I am one step ahead of you, darling~" he quickly hid the key before one of the creatures could see and cautiously examined the surroundings carefully.

He whispered, "When I came back here there was no way out of this place but the hole I fell down from. Thankfully, I was able to crawl back out but there is no sight of that hole anymore so I am gonna assume they blocked it. So there is only one option left for us to choose. What we're gonna do is, use the real door. The one I couldn't pass before. And for that we needed the key. Though one of us is gonna need to distract them while the other opens the door. Then we both escape and lock them in here, like it should have been." You're gonna kick his ass for not telling you about this sooner and made you believe that he actually didn't have any clue. Though you didn't know which one is good, his acting for the sake of the creatures (you have no idea what they are) not notice? Or him playing with you just for fun. Actually... you were happy that he did have a plan. Because it would be the worst tragicomic death in the hero's history.

His eyes widened when he felt your weight on his back... more than normally. You two were back to back forcefully pressed together yeah but... you were leaning on him? In relief? Comfort? He didn't know. But he couldn't help his lips turn into a soft smile.

"Well, I might ruin our moment here..." he trailed off. "I love hot baths as much as the next person but we should get moving. I don't think I like vegetable soup especially if we are in it.”

He felt the vibration of your laugh on his back causing his smile to widen. He glanced back at you with a smirk, his hand helping you to remove the red apple as he whinked.

"You ready to kick some little ass?" Those green creatures were nearly half of your height. You still can't believe how you two get caught that easily. You two were unprepared. But this time will be different.

You smirked, "It's always so nice to fight alongside you.”

"That's good to hear because I really needed that." He hummed as he slowly unwrapped the tight rope from around both of you, "You know, thinking our situation it's both humiliating and funny as hell. It could be our little secret. How's that sound?”

"Like heaven, and also the thought of what I can do after I get back home. Sleep all day long. Sounds good, huh?" You snickered knowing that's exactly what he will do too.

"After kicking my ass?”

You held back a laugh, "You want to be beaten up that much?” You pressed your back on his on purpose this time with a smirk.

He glanced back at you, "I think all the fighting we are gonna do here will be enough.”

"Agreed." You both jumped out of the cauldron within a fighting stance, raising up your fists.

You bawled, "Who wanna have some of these?" You showed your fists.

The creatures stood staring. Soon all screamed a war cry running towards you. You two smirked and launched.

[skania]

OnK Chapter 149

I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me because I’m always complaining about Aka’s writing, but…

And I mean it when I say that I expect nothing 😭 This was literally my first ever OnK-related reblog and its tags are more relevant than ever lmao

These, too:

#honestly I didn’t think too hard about any of this during my first read #because the romantic endgame seems so obvious that it kind of discourages guessing lmao #but re-reading these chapters has made me appreciate Aqua’s side of his bond with Akane a lot more

Back when I first got into OnK, I mentioned that Akane was the entire reason I kept reading the manga. I didn’t care about the romantic subplot, found Aqua/Kana extremely obvious and predictable, and Aqua plain boring.

It’s only during my second read that I paid close attention to Akane’s interactions with Aqua and I ended up playing myself into both, caring about Aqua and shipping him with Akane lol

This chapter has made me realize that despite everything, I'm not emotionally invested in whether they end up together or not. I’d prefer it, obviously, because Aqua truly is at his most interesting whenever he’s around Akane, and their dynamic has the best development in the manga (so far).

But it’s just like I said before: If they don’t end up together, that’s just Aka’s loss, not mine. I’m just here for Akane 😂

And as an Akane fan, I feel like the best thing for me to do right now is to just take a step back and watch things unfold, because Aka will do whatever he wants regardless of how any of us interpret his manga lol

So instead of posting the long post I originally wrote about this chapter when the leaks came out, I'll just share a a clown gif because in hindsight it was silly of me to expect Kana out of all people to have any sort of meaningful insight into Aqua 🤡

And a couple of things that caught my eye because I can't help myself:

Kana didn't even see Aqua and Akane have any sort of meaningful moment, just those two standing in each other's vicinity was enough to make her throw herself a pity party. How many more times is she going to pity herself and give up? How has Aka not tired of writing her this way? Where did her development from the Scandal arc go? 🤡

So Chapter 147 featured Kamiki thinking Ai doesn't love him and Kana thinking Aqua likes her. It even had a helpful "Cut 139: Misunderstanding" panel and everything. Will this mean something? Who knows!

Kana used guilt-trip! It was super effective!

Oh the irony! Poor Akane looks like she's been hard at work convincing herself that she's over Aqua. And you know what? I cheer for her and respect her energy 100%. I'd rather see her doing her mightiest to help him without any ulterior motives than to have her crying for him and hoping to get back with him every other chapter lol

Akane calling Kana out for her pity-party and for being cowardly was so cathartic that if I didn't already stan her, I'd have become a fan right now 😭 It also means that Aka is 100% aware of the way he writes Kana, so when will she finally be allowed to grow?

Kana's praise to Akane made me so sad though because yes, Akane is pretty and she's talented and she's kind. That's sweet of her to say. But that's not what made Akane someone special to Aqua: it was the way she understood him. The worst part is that Kana ends her praise by saying that Akane is a "goody-two-shoes" but... that's the opposite of how Akane views herself. She sees herself as someone who's not decent and not normal. So it's no wonder that while she gets flustered (it's her dear kana-chan praising her), she seems to get a bit sad/frustrated afterward. After all, for Akane it's probably the opposite. Men would prefer a decent, normal, bright girl like Kana - Aqua included.

I wish someone would tell Akane that she is too ignorant of her own charms and that she doesn't have to act like an adult all the time. Truly the pot calling the kettle black! Sadly, unlike Kana, Akane seems to have no one in her corner in this manga. Aqua was the only one there and the poor guy is barely even a character anymore lol

Overprotective mother or controlling ex-girlfriend? Take your pick!

The English translation left something pretty important out in these panels. Akane doesn't just say "if you have a girlfriend", she says "if you have a precious/important girlfriend". This distinction is very important because it goes to show that... as expected, Akane doesn't think she was an important girlfriend to Aqua. It's like she didn't count and Kana would be the real deal. Oh, Akane...

Which takes me to her very silly, very convoluted yet very predictable plan (in true Aka fashion).

When Akane thinks “I know exactly what you hate”, I imagine she means that Aqua hates hurting and endangering those he cares for. So I'm guessing Akane thinks that if she plays matchmaker and quite literally throws Kana at him, someone he has a soft spot, then Aqua won't be able to go through with his revenge because that would mean breaking Kana's very fragile heart.

In other words, it looks like Akane is going to try and use Aqua's guilt-complex against him and her weapon of choice is love. But not her love, obviously, because as far as she's concerned, her romantic love already failed to save him.

Granted, using Kana's romantic feelings to her advantage is kind of... well, wrong. To quote Akane herself, [Kana] is neither her pet nor her property, but a person. But I'm guessing that Akane may be falling victim to the same loophole she got caught in in Chapters 96 - 98. She thinks she knows what's best, so she's putting her own beliefs aside for the time being.

Kind of like Aqua, actually.

And, ironically, it's Aqua himself who first realized how easy Kana is to use.

So! All in all, I'm here for Mastermind!Akane but I hope that Aka will actually make it worth our while. Will Kana realize that she's about to be used as a chess piece in this Proxy War? Who knows, characters in this manga seem to walk in circles, only being allowed to grow when it fits the plot 😂

Last week we wondered whether Aka would subvert expectations or go the predictable route, and down the predictable route he went. His way of making it less predictable is by including a twist in the form of Akane's ulterior motives, but will this be enough to allow this ol' used trope to lead us someplace new? I guess we'll have to keep reading to find out, but given the quality of the writing lately, I'm not expecting much lol

[thebreakfastgenie]

this is one (1) redeemable voucher to complain about AO3's tagging system (if you like)

Thanks for the voucher!

I probably should have phrased that post differently because upon reflection what I hate is more downstream of AO3's tagging system. The system itself does what it's supposed to do: it organizes the archive. Of course, users get cutesy with it (and I'm guilty of this myself) and other users will use inaccurate tags on purpose to get more attention (this is not acceptable behavior), but neither of those things are the system's fault.

But because the tagging system is so robust and fics are tagged based on tropes, this culture has developed of hyper-curated, trope-based reading habits. This didn't exist before AO3 because it just wasn't possible to filter fics to that extent. Some of my favorite fic reading experiences have been fics that I stumbled across by mistake because I didn't know what they were or because I had to comb through broader categories.

And this is where I start sounding like Ted Gup. Ted Gup wrote this essay in the late 90s called The End of Serendipity about how computers being so efficient at retrieving information was going to bring about the end of people stumbling upon topics they wouldn't have otherwise explored. I had to read and respond to this essay in English class in middle school and I raked Ted Gup over the coals, because I was writing on my laptop with dozens of open tabs. I still think I was right to point out Ted Gup's failure to foresee the wiki walk, but now that I'm older and technology has developed more over the last fifteen years, I'm starting to think he had something of a point.

I was thinking about this in a fanfiction and fandom context because I recalled a post I reblogged recently saying (paraphrased) "I have nothing against shipping but some of you are too focused on shipping to the exclusion of everything else." I agree with that post, but for me part of the problem isn't even the focus on shipping, it's that the shipping content is often so formulaic. Fandom talks a big game about diversity and creativity in fanworks, but a lot of the actual output I see is incredibly formulaic. In my opinion that's related to the extreme focus on tropes. Tropes are great, but if you're only looking at fic as a list of tropes you're taking a very narrow view. I don't know what the direction of causality is here, if there even is one, but I think the tagging system and the way the tagging system is used facilitate this reductive trope-based outlook.

I'm from the fanfiction.net era and I find the character and relationship tagging on AO3 useful, but I don't really care for the additional tags. I had to train myself to even read them. I prefer to select fics based on titles and summaries, because those are created by the author. Obviously writing a summary is very different than writing a story (and in fact it's a different skill and it's hard!) but a summary is still written by the author, so it gives me some sense of their writing style. When authors actually include an excerpt in the summary it does that even more. Tags can be useful in conjunction with a summary, because well-selected tags make me curious how all the elements listed in the tags fit together. But I don't want to sort by Enemies to Lovers or whatever.

I don't expect everyone to read like I do, this is nothing more than one crank's ramblings about my personal dissatisfaction with the current state of fandom. Maybe it resonates with someone, and if it does they're welcome to reblog it, but I'm not trying to do social commentary here. Maybe it doesn't, and that's okay too.

I also don't know if the trope focus on booktok and in the traditional publishing world comes out of fanfiction or not but it's even more distressing to me there and I think it bothers me in the fanfiction sphere because of the possibility that fanfiction is contributing to that trend.

[linisiane]

I’ve seen that post on here that’s like “What did they put in this game to make us all Like That,” and I think we’re all Like That about Disco Elysium bc we’re all hyperfixating on it because it surprisingly speaks to the chaos of living with ADHD. And we SEE that and feel seen.

- First of all, Harry Du Bois Adhd headcanons pop off hard, especially with the whole “I do speed to do detective work,” aka I need stimulants to focus, aka unintentional self-medication. Also the poor impulse control, emotional disregulation. And the voices remind me of the way my brain jumps topic to topic so I have like 4 ongoing topics going at once. Stereo investigations, thoughts in the thought cabinet, if you will.

- Additionally, a lot of interactions surrounding Harry’s memory loss even feel very ADHD. ADHD is a problem with working memory (attention/focus), which cascades into causing problems with encoding memories for long term storage. You can’t remember what you never even focused on. Because of this, being forgetful of things that seemed basic or obvious or easy to remember for other people is a staple problem for people with ADHD, and while the game is obviously much more extreme with total retrograde amnesia, I find that the game’s demonstration of “the people being frustrated or confused by basic things you’ve forgotten or misplaced” (and this being taken seriously as a Big Issue affecting your life, even if the others don’t take it seriously/brush it off) is very relatable and almost cathartic. Even if the only reason why it’s taken so seriously in the game is because you’ve just literally lost all your memory… and your gun lol

- Harry doing buck wild things to get results based on the conversations going on inside his head, which don’t get read to the outside world, is very relatable. Again, my brain jumps topic to topic so much that it’s almost hard to track the logical thread connecting the thoughts internally, much less explain them to another person at the same time. The “how did we get here, what exactly brought you to this course of action? This seems unrelated, detective” is very much a conversation I experience on the daily, whether with myself or the people around me.

- Kim Kitsuragi is the ADHD fantasy. @snowberry-pie’s got in one. He’s perfect for fighting off that executive dysfunction by helping you actually get shit done while not being suffocating/controlling/shaming about it. He sorta takes responsibility of you to help you take responsibility of yourself. He’s a body double, your partner in it with you. Lets you go on your barely related stereo investigations and indulges your inexplicable actions instead of controlling you, trusting that it’s part of the process lol. Offers positive reinforcement instead of using shame (like calling Harry a burden) to get Harry to focus on the case.

Disco Elysium has lots to say about how disability is exacerbated/unsupported by the system for a lot of characters, including Harry. Adhd fits right into that, especially with the ways an ADHD!Harry interpretation would highlight the understandable nature of his drug addiction (not only was it a way to cope with chronic pain that no one was treating him for, but also a way to cope with unmedicated ADHD).

Anyways I wrote this instead of writing my paper.

[ashirisu]

hey, everyone!

My name is Ley (pronounced like "Lee," she/they) and I'm a fiction writer/editor based in the PNW. I haven't done a proper writeblr intro in a while, so I figure the new year is a great time to reintroduce myself to the community!

— about me

An important thing to understand about me and the way I talk about writing is that this stuff is literally my entire life. Even outside of work, I don't think I have a single interest or hobby that doesn't relate back to storytelling in some capacity. I'm an avid media consumer and critic, and will hyperanalyze just about anything that catches my fancy for more than a minute.

I love science fiction and fantasy, and my goal as a writer is to take all the genres I loved growing up and create stories that are a little more diverse, inclusive, and queer.

— about the blog

I came to writeblr mostly to share my work, but also to find an active community where I can get excited with other writers and talk shop. Marketing is obviously a really important part of the publishing industry, but I get tired of having to filter every thought I have about my work and experiences through the lens of aesthetic micro-trends just to put it out in the world. Sometimes I just want to pop off about scenes I'm proud of, you know?

Above all else, I really just want to connect with more writers like myself, ones who got their start in fandom spaces and are working to take their writing from a hobby into a career. I see you, I am you, I love you, let's be friends!

You’ll definitely see me posting and reblogging a lot of stuff that isn’t necessarily related to writing, so be ready for that. My art exists in the context of my personality and the world as a whole, and I simply do not have it in me to maintain a whole separate blog for silly nonsense and memes. Just consider it a way to get to know the writer as well as the writing!

— about my writing

I write a lot, though most of it is disconnected nonsense. Flash fiction and short stories are where I really thrive as a writer. I don't tend to commit to long-form projects, but I have a few projects that I'll occasionally share details about!

I like to describe my style as "earnest and character-forward," which is a fancy way of saying that I like driven protagonists who think too much and are emotional to the point of it being a character flaw.

My goal is to share more of my original writing moving forward, so hopefully you'll get to see all of this for yourself. If I'm totally honest, though, you'll probably see more of me discussing my work than actually writing it.

— about my projects

Here are the things you'll most likely see me posting about:

Agnomen: A sci-fi retelling of Hamlet and Coriolanus, currently in its very preliminary stages. It is literally my Roman Empire, except it's set on a moon of a planet that I'm calling Jupiter as a placeholder (but please note that it isn't actually Jupiter, as Jupiter is a gas giant and therefore a scientifically impossible setting for large sections of the plot).

Alter Ego: A superhero fic in which not-so-mild-mannered reporter Drew Derrick fights for mutant rights and can't seem to get his act together when it comes to keeping the complicated parts of his life separate.

Untitled Fantasy Project: The very first project I ever wrote, and the piece I return to every so often when writing is feeling more like a slog than a fun hobby. I set a lot of one-offs in this world and follow a few key characters around without them having a real plot.

D&D: I write a lot about Baz, my Wild Magic Barbarian. He's a regency noble with a lot of problems, and I care about him very much. I also have various other settings and characters, but he's my most active PC at the moment and therefore gets the most attention.

Short Stories: Sometimes I write these, and sometimes I like them enough to share!

— tag directory

ley rambles: my (often wordy) opinions about things

ley writes: not necessarily my writing, but talking about my writing

my writing: stories, blurbs, and other content I've written

not my writing: reblogs and creative writing that I liked, shared, and sometimes commented on

[kaylaz-world-00]

Rayman x Reader

A/N: He is the Rayman from the games, there is no other choice for this story, sorry~ But you can think either romantic or platonic for this :)

I'll try to make this as fluffy as I can. My angst loving soul don't know how to write fluff lmao

Writing Rayman from the games is something else for me. In really good ways

Nothing written in this story has anything to do with games plot. I wrote it all myself ;)

Summery: We both try to escape from some weird creatures

Warnings: Intense cursing

Words: 2.6k

Masterlist

Taglist: @blorbostation @eateableworm @livelaughluvvfaithyy @darkchanx @astoraa @shiroisotto64

Dear anons; I would really appreciate it if you could choose an emoji while sending your asks and requests (and stick with it) so I can tell you apart. Thank you~

Couldn't choose between all these moments for the gif so I added every one of them (probably gonna regret that later lol Because I no longer have any good gifs for him any more but whatever.)

Seeing Rayman angry is just a cherry on top.

I am going to post this but I feel bad for not writing fluff/comfort/pure lovely moments like I planned to, so I might write down something cute for him soon~

I really wanted to write something cartoon-ish too because, you know, Rayman is very much 'cartoon-ish', he is made for that. I guess at least I made that come true instead of a full fluff.

Also, I may have relieved my exam stress on him 👀💦

You two run for your dear little lives, in the meantime dodging a few spears thrown to pierce through your guts and quickly jump behind a few bushes out of breath. Hearing angry yells and screams increasing you both held your breath in. A few seconds later all of them ran past you. You heaved a relieved sigh.

What's happening? You don't have a clue. You only knew that Rayman ran past you in the forest ten minutes ago without even stopping to say hi, he looked really panicked too you have to say. And quickly after Rayman's hand came back, finding your own and quickly sweep away your taken aback body before the spears met with you. And, well, you were suddenly included in a chase you don't have a clue about.

What with this all about? Well, obviously you don't have all the details but you knew someone who did. You can finally question him about all this. With a scowl you turn to face him, finding him invading your personal space, not that you minded (it was funny, really), sticking to your side desperately, maybe that's not the right word to use but he was definitely, on purpose or not, sticking to you like a little kid would do to their mother, still eyeing for any intruders. If you weren’t so angry you would find that cute. Honestly at that moment, you didn't give a fuckthought. Your blood boils in anger. You weren't mad at him. You were tired and worried. Okay, maybe your tired body turning your worry into anger a bit. But you are angry at his reckless side. How wouldn't you be? You know he did something again that bothered these people. (It could also be the fact that because all people on this planet are either crazy or whatever) But it's not like he is doing that on purpose. But he still needs to be more mindful of his surroundings.

You whisper shouted, nudging his chest with your finger, causing him to look at you, "What the fuck did you do this time Rayman?!" You panthed out with a glare. Asking nicely? What is that?

He stared at you surprised (maybe a bit hurt) and huffed out, "What do you mean this time? I didn't do anything!" He scoffed, a hand over his heart with an offended tone.

You rolled your eyes at that and glanced outside, you quickly duck seeing more of them walking past the bush. You cursed under your breath. Thankfully they were dumber than they look.

You glanced at him, "Why do they want you?" You whispered with a hiss.

He smirked, "Who knows! I mean I can't blame them. Everyone wants me!" Here he goes again, you were being dead serious and he starts joking.

You stared at him with the most dumbfounded and sour expression you ever weared, "They fucking want your guts out, you idiot! Don't start with me with those cheesy lines!”

He mushed his lips and stared at you. You stared back with a raised brow. He couldn't hold his stare much longer with how you're glaring at him and finally grumbled out defeated, hiding away from your intense stare, "Okay, okay fine! It might be... a little bit my fault."

You scoffed, "A little bit?”

"I admitted didn't I?”

"What did you do?"

He avoided you with a comedic sweat, "Ahhh…”

"Rayman. What Did You Do?”

"You're going to be so mad." He chuckled nervously.

You can't be more mad then you already are. But again, your expression softened with how actually nervous he looked about all this. You knew he felt guilty. You know him after all. You let out a long silent sigh and reached out to hold his hands, pressing your thumbs over the back of them, kind of stroking to ease him up, "Rayman, I promise I will not yell at you anymore then I already did. Just tell me. I need to know." You sounded more like reassuring yourself then him. Did you forgive him? No? You don't know what you are even forgiving him about! But you did actually soften up on him.

He didn't believe that but confessed anyway, "I uh... might... accidentally woke up a whole civilization??" He sounded unsure of himself.

You stared at him, and he stared back.

"What... the fuck?" What does that suppose to mean?

He laughed, "I said the same thing until you find me and drag me away, my divine savior~" Wasn't that the opposite?

You sighed and grabbed the bridge of your nose, "I feel like I am gonna regret asking this but... how?"

He tapped his chin, "Well, I also have no idea! I was walking around the forest a few hours ago then I found myself in the underground. I guess the ground may have shifted or the place I was standing in collapsed. Either way I find myself exploring the cave to find a way out and, well, that's how I find the burrow. And here we are!" He continued despite seeing your progressive disturbed expression, "They were really aggressive and grumpy, I think they want some kind of revenge for disturbing their sleeping ritual or something—”

You reach your hand and shut him up with a tired face, "Okay, I think that's enough information. We are gonna think of something now. We need to avoid them and find a way back to send them whatever place they come crawling from. Okay..." You muttered to yourself.

Rayman grabbed your hand off of his mouth and muttered your name.

"Not now, I am thinking.”

"But-”

You sushed him, "No, nope, sush, no talking! I don't wanna listen! Just lemme think!”

He stared at you unamused but his expression quickly changed to something nervous. He called out your name again this time a bit louder.

You groaned, rubbing your face, "Ray, What part of "be quiet" don't you understand? What do you want?! You want them to find us?!”

He choked out, "Ahh, about that…”

"Look I only wanted a peaceful day today, getting chased by a crazy herd, not what I had in mind- annnd.... They find us, didn't they?" You sighed.

He nodded, "Pretty much." Soon enough all kinds of sharp-tipped spares were extended towards from all sides. You both quickly raised your hands in the air, surrounded by them. You cursed under your breath not amused at all.

"Well, this could have gone much worse.”

You soon find yourselves in a cell, soon to be turned into a chewing toy. Surrounded by many of them readying the meal you will be in today.

"You have to jinx it, didn't you?" Before he can open his mouth again you threatened showing a rock, "If you open your mouth one more time I swear I’ll force this inside your mouth—”

He raised his hand, "Jeez, alright, alright. I am sorry! What got into you today?” He knew you wouldn't actually do that. You love him too much for that. (But, did you have it in you? Yes. Would you actually do that if he was someone else? Most definitely. Is he afraid of this fact? Absolutely. He definitely know to not underestimate you.) He couldn't help but admit that it sounded so absurd coming from you in that moment though. It also shouldn't amused him but it did.

You forced a short laugh, "What got into me? Oh, lemme think." You sarcastically mumbled, mocking him and tapped your chin as if you were thinking.

He frowned, not letting you start sorting it all out, "Okay, okay. I get it. I said sorry, didn't I? It was lame of me to even ask that. Sorry for trying to be nice.” He stuck his tongue out playfully.

"A sorry not gonna save us from becoming a MEAL OF THE DAY!!" You groaned.

He hummed and shrugged, "I wouldn't worry much. After all this isn't the first time I was imprisoned.”

You stared at him, "We saved your ass when you were imprisoned."

"Saved me?" He smirked, "If I remember correctly, which I know I am, you and Globox were also imprisoned for the sake of saving me, I am touched really. Though it was a weak plan, assuming being held captive was part of your idea~"

You grumbled grimacing, "It was Globox's idea. I didn't have anything better to do so I just followed along. BUT we did save your ass didn't we? That's what counts! Besides, I'm not seeing you having any bright ideas!!”

"Who said I didn't have any?" He grinned, noticing your pause.

You give him a face, "If you had a plan this whole time... WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY SO?!" God, so that’s why he has been acting so relaxed! He has always been some kind of a laid back person, but this would be too much (Not counting the fact that he knows when to strike). In fact, he should have been happy that he had a reasonable explanation for this situation because you were about to slap him hard for how careless he had been so far and how careless he had been all day.

"Calm down! It was a work in progress and now I am not gonna jinx it again. So, are you in or not?”

You give him a side glare at him and turn away.

He sighed, "Look, I am sorry. Sincerely, coming from the deepest of my heart. I really didn't mean to cause all this. It's also my fault that you are involved in my mess too. So, at least let me help to fix it, okay? You can kick my ass after this." He kind of dragged you away, yes, but it was to save you and you were thankful that he did (how wouldn't you?) but that doesn't mean he is also the one to start all these.

You heaved a sigh, and shook your head with a soft smile, "Lead the way, eggplant." You grinned seeing his little eye roll. You definitely gonna remember the last thing he said.

“I will save us. That’s a promise.” He sounded even more genuine.

“Yeah, yeah. You better be. I don’t wanna end up as a snack before bedtime. So, care to tell me the plan?”

He grinned mischievously, a determined glint in his eyes, "You will find out soon enough. You know me. It's not that complicated to figure out. Even better when you know they are not too smart to figure out."

You raised a brow not fond of him still depriving you of an explanation. But you guessed it was better to leave like that seeing those creatures still roaming all around.

Soon after your 'nice' conversations you both find yourselves tied up together in a cauldron full of water with a fire burning underneath. The creatures throwing chopped vegetables on you.

Your unamused expression hardened, "How much longer are we going to wait?" You grumbled. "They are slowly cooking us alive!"

"Yeah, I won't be a good dinner for them. You have more areas where they can chew off." You swear he was laughing behind you. You growled and hit him in the head with your own, you had no other option. Your arms were tied. "Don't start again! I'm serious! I'm starting to get worried. My feet are burning!”

He hissed in pain, "Sorry, force of habit... or maybe coping... either way..." he took a sharp breath, "My plan gonna work."

"You are not even doing anything! What kind of plan is that? Just admit already that you have no idea how we can get out of this station!”

"No, because I do. I'm just waiting for the right moment.”

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, yeah. And I believe that. I am sure you do-- Wait a fucking moment." You hissed. You can't belive you forget about his ability, "You fucking have control all over your body! Whatever the floaty, gravity bending thing you do! You can easily get out of this rope!! They only tied our bodies, not hands or feet! Fuck! Why didn't you do something about this earlier Rayman?! Are you trying to piss me off on purpose! I swear---" Your words are stuffed inside your mouth, literally. One of the creatures got annoyed (or tired) of your talking and harshly pushed an apple in your mouth. Your eye twitched in annoyance. Rayman glanced back with a stuffed laugh. Okay, maybe you did deserve this but you are not gonna admit that. You gave him a death glare and he quickly looked away. But you still heard his stuffed snickers and feel his shaking body.

He nudges your side with his hand and your eyes quickly widen, "For your concern, ya think I would forget about something my own body capable of since forever? I already handled that. And for your nice question, like I said, I am one step ahead of you, darling~" he quickly hid the key before one of the creatures could see and cautiously examined the surroundings carefully.

He whispered, "When I came back here there was no way out of this place but the hole I fell down from. Thankfully, I was able to crawl back out but there is no sight of that hole anymore so I am gonna assume they blocked it. So there is only one option left for us to choose. What we're gonna do is, use the real door. The one I couldn't pass before. And for that we needed the key. Though one of us is gonna need to distract them while the other opens the door. Then we both escape and lock them in here, like it should have been." You're gonna kick his ass for not telling you about this sooner and made you believe that he actually didn't have any clue. Though you didn't know which one is good, his acting for the sake of the creatures (you have no idea what they are) not notice? Or him playing with you just for fun. Actually... you were happy that he did have a plan. Because it would be the worst tragicomic death in the hero's history.

His eyes widened when he felt your weight on his back... more than normally. You two were back to back forcefully pressed together yeah but... you were leaning on him? In relief? Comfort? He didn't know. But he couldn't help his lips turn into a soft smile.

"Well, I might ruin our moment here..." he trailed off. "I love hot baths as much as the next person but we should get moving. I don't think I like vegetable soup especially if we are in it.”

He felt the vibration of your laugh on his back causing his smile to widen. He glanced back at you with a smirk, his hand helping you to remove the red apple as he whinked.

"You ready to kick some little ass?" Those green creatures were nearly half of your height. You still can't believe how you two get caught that easily. You two were unprepared. But this time will be different.

You smirked, "It's always so nice to fight alongside you.”

"That's good to hear because I really needed that." He hummed as he slowly unwrapped the tight rope from around both of you, "You know, thinking our situation it's both humiliating and funny as hell. It could be our little secret. How's that sound?”

"Like heaven, and also the thought of what I can do after I get back home. Sleep all day long. Sounds good, huh?" You snickered knowing that's exactly what he will do too.

"After kicking my ass?”

You held back a laugh, "You want to be beaten up that much?” You pressed your back on his on purpose this time with a smirk.

He glanced back at you, "I think all the fighting we are gonna do here will be enough.”

"Agreed." You both jumped out of the cauldron within a fighting stance, raising up your fists.

You bawled, "Who wanna have some of these?" You showed your fists.

The creatures stood staring. Soon all screamed a war cry running towards you. You two smirked and launched.

[venriliz]

10 random facts about me

got tagged by @druidberries @alientown @papermint-airplane TY <3

u literally tagged the most boring person but that's probably what half of all people think of themselves, huh? °-° i might regurgitate some of the facts i used for my introduction post in the sims of tumblr community. i wrote a lot so i'll put a cut with the facts below here. °-°

my birthday is the 4th of july and when i was a kid (prolly like 5 or 6) i saw an american parade on the news on tv. after i asked my dad why these people are celebrating he literally told me that they're celebrating my birthday °_° i believed for several years that americans celebrated my fucking birthday bc i wasn't aware of independence day existing lmfao. my dad just loved fooling me V.V he might be dead but i'm still holding that grudge lol.

i'm kinda lucky to be alive i guess? when i was a kid i was hit by a car in what we in germany call "Spielstraße" which is kinda like a street in dense neighborhoods where kids are allowed to play freely and cars aren't allowed to go faster than 7 kph/4.3 mph. i don't now how fast the driver was but it probably was something around 30 kph/18 mph. i didn't have very bad injuries but still °-° i could've died.

i was a typical horse girl as a kid (i still like horses but i'm not riding anymore because i'm a very old 20-something with knee problems lol) and i was fucking INSUFFERABLE abt it.

i don't want to have kids or get married. i'm not one of those people who hate children like i love my nieces and my nephew BUT i have a lot of mental health issues and can't possibly take care of another life if i can barely take care of myself properly, right? marriage to me is just a weird concept. i can totally respect people getting married and if i'm invited to a wedding i'm obviously attending but i personally can't really subscribe to the idea of binding myself to someone with a piece of paper and it then being such a stupid process when it doesn't work out. also... it costs too much money lol

i have kind of an affinity for finding missing pets (i also photograph every missing poster i see so i guess that helps with recognizing them?)

i was NOT good at school like i kinda sucked and i can probably blame a mixture of mental health issues, trouble at home and also being a lazy teenager that just wasn't really built for school life lol. i barely managed to get the "Mittlere Reife" (if you're german u know what i mean. i could explain what that means but explaining the german school system would take years). english, german and biology were my only good classes. i absolutely hated math like we're lifelong enemies.

speaking of germany, i am from germany or to be more specific from the most northern region nearest to the danish border and i LOVE living here. the north and baltic sea are close to me and people here are usually quite chill. the only thing i don't like that much abt living here is kind of the regional cuisine bc a lot of it is fish and i don't like eating fish T.T

i HATE going shopping (i'm an online shopper °-° EMP my beloved) and my friends just don't take me with them on shopping trips bc they know i'll kill the mood by complaining like a child and wanting to go back home lmfao

the first sims game for me was the og Sims and i almost fried my dad's old ass pc playing it. my first vivid memory of the game was noticing that here and there random houses appeard out of seemingly nowhere. the goths got a new house that didn't fit their vibe for example lol. years later my dad told me that he used to play the game when i was sleeping and just built these houses lmfao. so i guess my dad was an og simmer oO.

i remember 9/11 (yes i'm old enough don't age shame me T.T). i was in kindergarten at that time and just came home from a friends house when the towers fell. i saw it on tv and even though i was very young i understood that a lot of people were getting hurt. definitely had an impact on me as a kid.

yeah that's it. i rambled a lot but yeah °-°

tagging @landgraabbed @olli-online @living-undead @moonwoodhollow @microscotch @crazy-lazy-elder-sims @aniraklova @tiallussims @skaterboi108 @faerun-s @cristalviper @none-of-these-days @fadingforrest @acuar-io @elderwisp @lilamausmaus @simpleratattack @azeterna @butteredfrogs @mmonetsims and everybody else who reads this! HA!