#please give me tips. i am new to writing image descriptions

[alignloadstar]

finally finished with my slugcat mass attack! creators credited under the cut :)

Ku - Steel_Raven on Artfight Truths - Galaxivorous on Artfight Savior - TypicalGway on Artfight Fraud - Eggminn on Artfight Armorcat - Saffla on Artfight Sunweaver - Wisprii on Artfight Evenfall - CrystalDragon_ on Artfight Wayfarer - @random-fate Dali - frostipineapples on Artfight Starbound - @snickerdoodlesart Squid - @dra-ghost Archaeologist - @chatterbotbox Seer - @raintailed Traveller - Corvin-Ito on Artfight

[slayingfiction]

What would your advice for just-starting-out young authors be?

I love new writers! I’ve never known a better way to escape my reality and live a thousand different lives.

I started writing when I was young, maybe 12 or 13 years old. I am now 25, and very much consider myself to be a child, but still, in my 10+ years of personal writing and classes, here are some of the best tips I can give anyone who is new to writing, regardless of age.

Read. Read. Read. Then read some more. The easiest and fastest way to learn how to write is by reading and studying how other people have written their stories. Study their balance of dialogue vs description vs action. Study the words they use and what they’re choosing to describe. Study the scenes that make you feel something, or pull you to the story even more, and dissect it until you understand how to do it.

Daydream. At night, in the morning, before and after school, during school, during work. When people are trying to talk to you, just daydream. Image worlds with populated moons. Imagine worlds with multiple human-like species all living in the same area. Image a boy who goes home and cries to his adoptive vampire parents, and girls who practices knife throwing every night to prepare for the apocalypse that no one sees coming. Dream of everything and anything because that’s how you keep and improve your creativity. Eventually you may even write something with it.

Write for yourself. Always start by writing what you enjoy, and love your characters and your stories. Everything about your first draft should be because you love the story, not what other people like. You will never please everyone, so start with yourself, and build a community with the ones who love your story as much as you do.

Do it on your own timeline. If you want to write a book in a month, edit the next and publish right after, do it. If you want to write the first five chapters of 8 books without finishing, do it. If, like me, you want to write your first novel at 18 years old, and 7 years later still not feel ready to publish, that’s ok! You are not falling behind anyone else, you are exactly where you should be on your own path.

Practice. Your writing will improve with practice, that’s how it works, it’s how it always works. No way to skip right to publishing a first draft and becoming famous for it. Practice and just keep writing, you will improve.

Challenge yourself. While you may love fantasy or romance, or maybe all your story ideas are too big for only one book and they all end up being series’, you need to try new things. Write a mystery short story. Write poetry on how you feel. Write one page on how you could survive a zombie apocalypse as long as you have your coffee in the morning, it doesn’t matter, just try new things. Trying new things is how I wrote this haiku: Take a deep inhale, Breathe fresh air into my lungs, I savorfreedom. Is it the greatest haiku ever? No, but it makes me happy, and reminds me that I can write, good or bad, and still be proud of myself.

Keep all your projects. Good or bad. Look back on them years later and think, yeah that was terrible, at least I’m better now. Or maybe think, this wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. It’s a progressive journey. You can take your time. DONT EVER SHAME YOUR YOUNGER SELF FOR THEIR WORK. THEY TRIED THEIR HARDEST AND WROTE AS BEST THEY COULD. WE ARE PROUD OF OURSELVES, NOT EMBARRASSED OR SHAMED. Whether the work is from years ago or days go. Be kind to yourself, no one else owes you that.

Compare. Compare to popular novels, compare to your friends stories or to people online. Compare and see if your character are developed enough, or if your story makes sense, or if it’s relatable. When comparing however, keep in mind that your written style will be different than all others writers. Your first novel will not be the same as an author’s 10th book that just went viral on TikTok. It takes practice and time. Compare for style, technique, structure and plot. Not for popularity, worth, importance, and don’t feel down thinking that someone writing at a higher grade level makes them better, it doesn’t.

Share your work. If you are embarrassed, use a pen name. That’s perfectly fine. Put your work out there and get feedback. Having one person saying your story is (negative criticism here) is going to happen, don’t freak out. It doesn’t mean your story is flawed and should be tossed. If most people are saying that, then maybe it’s time to revisit the story and plot. Getting feedback from people reading your story is important, you want to ask specific questions so you don’t get generic answers. Get real reviews from real people, the mean voice in your head doesn’t get a say.

Learn the difference between perfect and done. I know, I know. Perfectionists around the world just scoffed and thought ‘I would if I could’. Here’s the thing, it’ll never be perfect. A word won’t be right, you can’t find the right way to convey an emotion, your choice of vocabulary isn’t up to your standards, I get it. You want your work to be absolute perfection so that everyone loves it and no one can say a bad thing about it, but it doesn’t work that way. Instead make it to ‘complete’, then nitpick some details, then it’s done. Done is good, it’s where you want to be.

Self-publishing? Pay for a professional editor and a graphic designer. It makes a difference, I promise.

There’s lots of others, but I would say as a writer-starter-pack, these should get you started, then you will learn lessons all on your own, or find them as you’re writing later on. Truly, just have fun, and the rest will come with time.

Happy Writing!

[annlillyjose]

Dairy Whiskey – Update 01

[image description: a hanging branch of orange flowers against a blurry background of leaves. in the center, a white serif font reads, “dairy whiskey – update 01���. / end id]

hello there! it’s been several months since my dairy whiskey intro (which you can find here) and since then, i’ve written about 20k words. yep.

writing has been going fairly well for me even though it depends greatly on my mental health, and i’m really happy with all the progress so far. this is my first ever properly pantsed novel, because up until now, i felt the need to outline because it was said to be more structured and helpful, but when i let go of that pressure and tuned in to my instincts, it’s been working like magic. it’s been such a rewarding process. i am thrilled!

i have written way too much to include in one update, so i’ll be splitting it up into two. cutting out the intro/ramble here. let’s move on to the good stuff!

excerpts and taglist under the cut.

disclaimer: this is an original work of fiction. plagiarism of any kind will not be tolerated.

TWs: this novel deals with themes of childhood and religious trauma, sexual, emotional, and substance abuse, mental health issues, self-harm, abortion, etc. so please be kind on yourself and read ahead only if you feel comfortable

there were way too many good excerpts that i wanted to share, but i also didn’t want to spoil the book and cram everything into an update, so please excuse me while i struggle to make any sense.

chapter three – my brother in plague

in this chapter, ephron convinced dinah to smoke with him and when dinah reluctantly gives into her addiction after struggling with her memories and trauma for a long time. when they smoke in the plantation, ephron asks questions that upsets dinah and she storms back into the house. later, she takes a walk to the waterfall with austin, where they share tender moments that leave dinah confused about their relationship dynamics.

now moving on to the excerpts. here’s the opening paragraph.

In the first week following his return, I stole three unopened packets of cigarettes from Ephron. I’d found them all in his backpack, along with unwashed underwear, beverage shop bills, and several strips of Cetrizine. But today, there was nothing in his backpack – not a single cigarette – so I fished for a packet of Lights in his chest of drawers. That’s when I found it – father’s wedding ring, with the name Mariam inscribed in calligraphic font, wrapped in a children’s handkerchief with blue teddy bears and yellow flowers.

here’s a scene dinah remembers from the past, crucial to the novel, but it’s only briefly mentioned in this chapter.

Soon after mother left, Ephron began to drink openly. That night, after my impulsive swigs from father’s cupboard, he poured me a small peg of Black Label. He’d said, “See, Dinah. Here’s how the pain goes away. Here’s how you’ll forget. And me, too.”

this is followed by a long stretch of past trauma and dinah contemplating whether or not to smoke with ephron, while he smokes two cigarettes in the room they are in. eventually, she agrees to go and they smoke in the landholding.

later, when austin comes home to give dinah a new sim card as she had requested, they decide to go on a walk. on the way out, ephron confronts austin, acting up to be a “good brother” but it angers dinah and they have another fight. fast-forward to their walk and their time at the waterfall.

We took the walking route through Thresiyamma George’s plantation. Austin said it opened to the best view of the river. The best place to be with your emotions. Earthworms wiggled out of the soil. Millipedes and slugs leeched their way up our ankles, the tips of our toes dyed in cocoa colours. Mosquitos bred their wiggly larvae in the black plastic cups for latex collection. Newly spun webs of spiders glistened where small droplets of rainwater bejewelled them.

We walked mostly in silence. My feelings were tangled in themselves, strangling every partially alive piece left in me. The hem of his grey pants looked tie-dyed from the mud. Banana leaves and coconut trees stood scattered, drenched in the previous night’s wash.

let’s just say they have a fun time after this (but austin asks about ephron and dinah avoids the convo because, well, she doesn’t want to talk about him). they go back home after some time. back home, ephron apologises to dinah and it ends up triggering her (quite ideal).

“I am your brother, Dinah,” he pleaded. “No.” I shook my head. “No, you’re not.” I ran to the back door and got into the house through it. I locked myself in the room and crawled under the bed. With my knees plastered to my chest and my hands wound around them like coils, I cried until the tears wouldn’t come anymore. Rain began to pour and every other noise was drowned in the sound of water on the asbestos.

In this loudness, I fell asleep.

vignette three – a time to kill, a time to tear down

this is my vignette (but is long enough to be a chapter oops) on mariam – the mother who leaves before the story begins. it details why she left and for whom/what. i’ve shared a few excerpts from this chapter during nano 2022, so here‘a one excerpt from it.

In the afternoons, Mariam leaned out of the balcony in her cotton saree loosely draped around her body. The sun, now at an obtuse angle from the east, shed light on her face, illuminated her collarbones and the peak of her nose. Rivulets of sweat ran down the frame of her face. Cheeks flushed with the heat; skin cinnamoned under daylight. Her long, black hair in a low, messy bun smelled like coconut oil and dead flowers. Loose strands hung behind her ears, with baby hair sticking to the sweat on her cheeks. The rolls of her stomach and the gap between her thighs dampened under the heat. Downturned eyes with fierce, coal irises searched for something far off in the distance; much farther out of her reach. The kajal on her waterline dammed the tears that formed in this loneliness.

that’s it for today, but i’ll be back real soon with the next update because i’ve got a really fun chapter to share, so be on the lookout for that. i hope you enjoyed reading my novel excerpts today. please send me all the writer energy you can so that i can finish this baby off real soon and (maybe) start working on something new (oopsies)

– ann.

general taglist (ask to be +/-)

@shaonharryandpannisim @heartfullkings @vnsmiles @dallonwrites @wannabeauthorzofija @sienna-writes @violetpeso @flip-phones @rowansghost @ambidextrousarcher @duckiewrites @writing-with-l @magic-is-something-we-create @femmeniism @frozenstillicide @wizardfromthesea @rose-bookblood @coffeeandcalligraphy @rodentwrites

[sparklingchan]

Ruby Eyes|| Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word count : 7.3k+ 

Warnings : Mention of an accident, cuss words, divorce, a single kiss.

Genre : Romance, Soulmate AU, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers.

Description: Seo Changbin has done everything in his capacity to remove and replace you, yet fate seems to have different plans for the both of you.

A/N : Hello everyone ahhh I know it’s been so long y’all. So many things have been going on including exams and internships and I just didn’t have the patience to write :(( This one shot was written as a part of a collab event by wonderful, dear Ro! 

I hope y’all like it!

"So, how's it being back, y/n?"

Your dad looks older now than he did the last time you saw him - probably two years ago, when you were leaving the country.

You missed him, really. You missed his warmth and his wisdom and how he was a sharp contrast to your mother, more calm and composed. Sometimes you wonder how your mother had even managed to get your custody after their divorce.

"Okay, I guess." You lie.

You didn't want your father to know how your feelings are all over the place, ranging from sadness to anger and longingness.

It's a weird thing to be experiencing such a cocktail of emotions when you'd convinced yourself these feelings had disappeared the day you left the old neighborhood, seven years ago. You had not felt any attachment towards the new neighborhood that you and your mother then went on to live for the next two years before you moved abroad for your studies. Yet you feel nostalgic now, as your father drives you through your old old neighborhood.

"How's mom?" He asks, taking a left to a road all too familiar to you, "Is she still going to therapy?"

You nod, "She's getting better, I think. The new country seems to have changed her. The therapy is helping too. She has many friends there now. "

At first when you were offered a job at one of the biggest publishing companies in the world, you were ecstatic. But everything soon died down when you found out you were posted at a branch in the country you'd left behind. It was your mother who'd convinced you to take it.

"I know you don't like being back, y/n." Your dad smiles sadly when he pulls over infront of your old house.The house that contains years of secrets, tears, lies and whispered confessions in front of the mirror stands in front of you, as grand and pretty as ever. It looks different but similar enough to make you tear up a tad bit.

"But I'm glad you're here. I really am." He says, "I renovated the house a little when you told me you were moving back. I hope it's okay."

You smile at the old man, wrapping your arms around him, "Thanks, dad. I missed you. I'm glad you're here, too."

He pecks your forehead, "I missed you, too, love."

Moving in doesn't take a lot of time since your dad had already set up everything. You just had to get some of your stuff and you were ready to kick start your stay.

That evening, your father leaves after making you promise to call him if anything happens at all and when the front door closes, you find yourself in the company of your old room.

You lie on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as you hum an old tune to yourself. And without meaning to, you find yourself thinking about him; The man you hadn't seen or talked to for a whole seven years. The man who'd tried his best to stay in touch with you yet gave up when you didn't reciprocate the same.

A horrific realization then dawns on you,

He'd obviously replaced you now.

The familiar clouds of grief loom over you, threatening to engulf you any moment now.

No. Not now, please.

Getting up from your bed immediately, you shake your head as you make your way to the mirror- the mirror that had encountered more honest tears and smiles and words than any human ever had. You stare at your reflection as tears escapes your eyes, the bright red iris of your right eye staring back at you when you rub your tears off.

You shiver.

"Shit, I forgot to wear the contacts."

Quickly grabbing your lenses from your bag, you put them on, concealing the scary blood red color of your right eye. You take two long strides across the room and pulling your favorite black hoodie over your head, you walk out of the door.

By the time you manage to leave the house, it's already 10:30 in the evening. A quiet calmness has fallen over the town, as the shops and restaurants near the market square slowly start closing up. Your feet are as if on autopilot, taking you to that one place you know would still be open; Yang's Café.

And rightly so, the smell of freshly brewed coffee reaches your nostrils when you walk through their main door, past the group of chatty teenagers waiting outside. This place hasn't changed much, you realize, the brown and golden hues of the place and the vintage coffee cups collection in the far corner of the Cafe are still the same. The only difference is that you're no longer here with your best friend right after school, you are here all alone on an evening too quiet for your liking.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

When you turn around to face the owner of the voice, you are stunned.

"Jeongin?"

Jeongin's family has owned this Cafe for three generations now, from his great-grandparents, his grandparents, his parents and soon enough it'll pass down to him. As a kid, you remember often playing with Jeongin at the park and teaming up with him during quiz competition. He was always sweet and always smiley.

But the handsome young man that stands in front of you doesn't resemble the Jeongin you once used to know, not even a little bit.

"What..what happened to you!" You exclaim, taking his face in your hands, "Where are the braces! And the specs and wow, would you look at the blue hair!"

Jeongin can only let out a few giggles as you continue squishing his face and complaining how big he's grown in only over seven years.

The customers give you weird stares but only the heavens above know how genuinely happy you are to see Jeongin, albeit the fact you almost couldn't recognize him there for a second.

"What have you done to my child?" You mutter when you've finally calmed down and Jeongin takes you to your seat.

"I have a mother, y/n, thank you very much," he laughs, taking a seat opposite to yours, loosening the Barista apron around his torso, "And I missed you too."

You attempt to pinch his cheeks but he is quick to dodge.

"So how have you been?" He asks through giggly breaths.

You sigh, "I'm good... I feel weird being back here, honestly but I think I'll get used to it soon. What about you?"

"I've been good. Graduated a few months back, now I'm working here full time." He ushers over a waiter, "What would you like, y/n?"

You don't even think for a second while responding, "An iced Americano, please."

The waiter notes your order and walks away before Jeongin pinches your arm teasingly.

"Ouch. What?"

"Old habits die hard, huh? You always used to drink an iced coffee whenever we hung out here. I am glad to see nothing much has changed," Jeongin laughs, "You and Changbin, too!"

That one name sends your entire mind into a frenzy. Changbin. Seo Changbin. The love of your life. The man who you wouldn't even go to school without, the man who had saved you from a terrible accident, also the man who probably no longer even remembers you.

And you realise, despite everything, your heart yearns for him, still- for you wouldn't be in so much pain at the mention of his name otherwise.

Jeongin seems to have noticed your discomfort because he immediately changes the topic, "Anyway, you have to try our new chocolate cake. It's heavenly, I'm telling you."

Your reason to leave the neighborhood wasn't a secret, really. It was public knowledge that your mother had blamed Changbin for the fatal accident you almost had.

You're grateful for what Jeongin does, and try your best to engage in conversations about the neighborhood and old gossip you'd missed out on. Yet all you want to do is drive out of the damn Cafe and find changbin.

"Y/n?"

Or maybe, Changbin will find you.

Behind Jeongin, you see the blurry image of a man that had once caused you great misery yet you had never felt as happy as when you were with him.

"Hi..hi, Changbin." You stammer as you see the said man walk towards your table.

The seven years have as if done some magic on him, because the Changbin that walks towards you in no way resembles your high school best friend.

With thick buff arms, new ear piercings and silver jewelry gracing his wrists and fingers, you have a hard time actually accepting the fact that Seo Changbin is really there, in front of you.

"Been long, huh?" He grins, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes and somewhere in the depths of your conscience, you realize it might have been your fault. You'd done everything in your capacity to break apart from this friendship, ignoring his calls, changing your number, even going as far as blocking him on all social media.

So, did you really expect him to welcome you back with open arms when you had caused him so much pain?

Jeongin brings an extra chair for Changbin to sit on and soon, the three of you are talking, maybe not like the old, happy days but it's still better than nothing. Changbin looks at you everytime you throw your head back and laugh, your eyes squeezing shut as his heart clenches in his chest.

You are really back home.

"So what have you been doing? I told you guys about me." Jeongin says, stealing a bite off of Changbin's cheesecake.

"Oh..you know," Changbin giggles, the tip of his ears turning a light pink shade.

You raise your eye brows in confusion.

"Been busy with the wedding and all."

Your heart drops. "Wedding? W-whose wedding?" You try to laugh it off but it's very evident from the way you're gripping your glass of iced Americano that it has affected you. A lot more than you actually thought.

"I'm getting married, y/n," Changbin smiles, "I'm so glad you could be around for the wedding."

*

Your grief stricken self has not gotten up from the bed since last night and you're thankful to Jeongin for finally checking up on you or else you would have gone deeper into the spiral hole of despair.

"Are you really going to be like this, y/n?"

You hate being miserable on the very second day of your stay. You hate depending on Jeongin. But you can barely move without bursting out into tears,so it seems as though there's no better idea than have someone take care of you at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Jeongin. " You manage to speak when he places a bag full of snacks and drinks on the dining table, "And thanks."

Jeongin chuckles, "Don't thank me, just yet. Guess who wants to meet up with you?"

Your eyes widen for a split second as you sit up on the couch, "Who?!"

No, he wouldn't, would he?

"It's not the person you think, y/n. Calm down." He laughs, "It's Bang Chan. Your senior, you remember?"

Oh, yes, the infamous Bang Chan. Shy smiles, dimples, curly hair, angelic eyes. Yeah, you remember the school's heartthrob. Very clearly.

"I was talking to him this morning and he said he'd be very glad to catch up with you again." Jeongin settles beside you, "It's not a date, y/n. He's an old friend. It wouldn't hurt, would it? You can't possibly sit here all day long crying about him."

You open your mouth to argue, but only air slips out and you realise you don't have anything to defend your miserable state with. You knew this was coming; when you cut off all ties with Seo Changbin, you knew this was coming.

Jeongin is right; you need to go out and meet new people.

You roll your eyes before pinching Jeongin's cheeks, "Fine. Give him my number."

He responds by pulling your cheeks as well.

*

The first day of work is weirdly gut wrenching.

You hadn't expected yourself to be this nervous but here you are, muttering under your breath as you make way towards the office.

"You'll be okay, y/n," you breathe in, "You've worked hard for this." And breathe out.

A few more minutes of self pep talking and you see all your hard work and expectations go down the drain as you feel a few droplets of rain fall onto your head. You look up and the dark, heavy clouds greet you.

Bloody brilliant.

You see the office goers around you jog quickly to the nearest shelter but you're short on luck today as your gaze falls on your watch and you realize you don't have enough time to wait for the rain to pass.

So you grab your office bag, cover your head with that and make a run for it.

The sole of your high heel shoes dig into your feet and a throbbing pain shoots through your body, as you wince. Note to yourself - never wear heels to office again.

You also secretly pray to the gods that your contact lens don't get washed off. Turning up at your new office on the first day with a blood red iris doesn't feel too fun, really.

"Do you need a lift?"

You had been so busy running to your office that you don't notice when a black car drives toward you and the driver rolls down the window, offering you a smile.

Seo Changbin.

Your heart skips a few beats.

"Y/n, do you need a lift?"

You blink back to reality when he clicks his fingers in front of you, "I-I mean if that's okay with you."

Changbin smiles, pointing to the passenger's seat, "Come on in."

When you're comfortably seated in his car, using his spare towel to wipe off the water from your face and hair, his questions start-

"So.." He steps on the break when the traffic light turns red, "How have you been?"

You look at the digital clock displayed on the cars' LED, and sigh. You're late to work and you're stuck in traffic with the one man you'd rather not be stuck in traffic with. Brilliant.

"Good." Your eyes are focused on the cars outside the window, "You?"

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again, "Fine."

Fine? Just Fine? Shouldn't he be over the clouds, now that the wedding is finally around the corner?

"Okay.."

"Actually, I meant to ask you earlier, y/n." He turns to you, a gentle smile playing at his lips, "I am throwing a party this weekend. I'd love it if you could come by. And I could introduce you to her."

You sink back into your seat, biting your lip, wondering if you want to ever know who her is. Your peace of mind is more important than meeting your ex crush's fiance, right? And if you do end up going to the party, whom would you hang out with? It's not like you know any of his rich friends and cousins and there's no way you'd hang out with Changbin and the said fiance.

You are about to respectfully reject the invitation when a sudden, seemingly good idea pops into your head.

Bang Chan.

You nod, shrugging, "Okay. I'll be there."

You clasp your hands together as he continues driving and you look out the window, unable to suppress the bubbling excitement.

"Great, then." He replies, suspiciously.

*

The evening of the party finally arrives, much to your dismay, you find yourself seated next to Chan. He's just the same as the guy in your memory; a gentleman.

"You look pretty, y/n." He had greeted you as he held the car door open for you, "I'm glad we could meet up."

His words turn your cheeks into a darker shade of red but your heart doesn't beat quite as furiously as you'd expect it to.

Muttering a small thank you, you seat comfortably in the car while Chan drives towards Changbin's family's old Farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. You've been there before - during summer holidays, he would take you there with his family. That place was only filled with happy memories of sunshine, swimming pools, watermelon juice and bonfires.

You swallow the grief that comes along with these memories.

"Are we here already?" Chan pulls over in a familiar driveway not even ten minutes later, jogging up to your door and clicking it open, like the gentleman he is.

"Yeah, we're here." Chan smiles, "Very less traffic tonight."

You guys walk through the huge metallic gate, making your way through the main door of the house.

"Uh..." People are crowded mostly around the front door and in the front yard, so you and Chan have to push and squeeze your way into the Farmhouse. You hate the feeling of sweaty bodies pressing against you (or holding Chan's hand for stability) but desperate situations call for desperate measures.

"I hate it here." You mutter when you later find yourself by the pool side, swirling the drink that you don't even plan on drinking and looking at all the flushed faces having the time of their lives.

Thankfully, Chan happens to be on the same boat as you.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here, Chan. We could have just gone for a movie."

Chan giggles, "Hey, it's alright. I don't mind, I'm glad I could spend some time with you after so many years."

His eyes shine and dimples deepen.

You whisper, "Yeah, me too."

Chan is a handsome man, good at all kinds of sport, good at arts, very smart and intelligent yet there's a part of you that knows you'd never be able to reciprocate his flirtatious words. It's sad, really, but that's just how life is.

"Wow, those two seem to be having the time of their lives." Chan chuckles, pointing at someone behind you.

It's quite dark outside, the only source of light being a few decorative fairylights hung at random places haphazardly.

Hiding behind a huge, tall bush, you see a couple, kissing each other like it were the last day on the planet.

The guy's hands roam all over the woman's body and the woman is so loud that even you could hear her sighs and moans. When she pulls away to catch her breath for a second, Chan asks you, "You know her?"

"Nope. I don't know either of them."

You look away; what kind of creep looks at a happy couple like that? (Not a creep, just a lonely and touch starved person)

"Should we check out the dinner table?" Chan suggests and you agree with a nod, "I hope there's no crowd there."

As expected, there actually isn't a crowd there - there's only Changbin, sitting and nibbling on a pizza slice while scrolling through the phone.

The moment your eyes land on him, your feet as if stop on their own and your heart bangs furiously against your chest.

He's breathtakingly gorgeous.

By the time you debate in your head whether or not you want to sit there and fill your stomach, Chan has already made his way to Changbin.

"Hey, Bin!" He greets him with a smile.

Changbin looks at Chan with an unamused smile, the same one from your high school days, when these two were named the biggest rivals on campus. You wonder if somewhere deep in his heart, Changbin had still not let go of that rivalry.

"Hey, Changbin." You manage to whisper before sitting beside Chan.

He looks almost angry.

"You should have the pizza. It's good." He mutters, turning to pass you a slice of pizza on a plate, "Help yourself, Chan."

Yup, there it is. The Seo Changbin that would kill to be on top. You feel worse about dragging Chan here now when neither of you were having a good time.

"Thanks, mate. " Chan replies.

Your ears ring with the sound of approaching footsteps, and when a pretty girl comes walking in and takes Changbin in her arms, your heart stings. Like a fresh wound.

"Y/n.." Chan whispers to you as you watch the two collide in a loving embrace, Changbin smiling at her and running his fingers through her hair.

Your heart hurts at how happy and content he looks.

You could have had that, a part of you thinks, if you weren't such a coward, it would have been you instead of her.

"Y/n," Chan calls you again.

"What?" Your tone is harsher than you intended, "What happened?"

You think Chan is about to give you the whole it-is-time-to-move-on talk but he doesn't, instead he points at the girl and whispers,

"It's her. The girl we saw earlier."

The rest of the night is blurry to you, all conversations, all gazes, all thoughts just feel ....like an awkward dream.

"We have to tell Changbin."

You're sitting at Yang's Cafe at 1 am the same night, watching Jeongin's brother guide his staff to clean the place up.

"I agree." Chan says, biting the inside of his cheeks.

While you, on the other hand, are completely zoned out, staring at the glass of water placed in front of you and watching the droplets on its surface race each other.

"Y/n, what do you think?" Jeongin asks when you don't take part in their discussions.

You sigh, "I don't know. I really don't. As much as it troubles me that Changbin is being cheated on, I don't want to get involved in their personal relationship. "

"Let's not tell anyone for now, then. But someday in the future, before that goddamn wedding, we have to tell him. He deserves to know." Chan agrees.

You purse your lips and close your eyes.

Chan is right.

Changbin deserves to know the truth.

*

"So, how's it being back in town, y/n?"

"It feels good. Weird, but good." You smile at your old teacher, "How have you been, Miss Oh?"

Your teacher adds sugar to the cup of tea in her hands and then looks at you, smiling - the same old smile, except with more wrinkles now, "I've been good. I'm retiring next year so I'm glad I could see you before that, huh?"

You nod your head, "I'm glad too. The school hasn't changed much, unlike what I had expected."

Other than the addition of some new labs and libraries, and the change in color of the walls, everything was still the same. No place in this old school building feels foreign to you.

"Ugh, these administration people I tell you, y/n, they're cheap idiots. They won't spend a single penny on infrastructure unless it's absolutely necessary." She complains as you giggle in response,

"They've always been like that."

Miss Oh gulps some tea from her cup, "Anyway, y/n, I have a class now. I would have loved to stay and chat, really, but I'm afraid that might get me in to trouble."

"No issues, Miss Oh. Go ahead. I'll just roam around the school a little more though, if that's okay."

After Miss Oh leaves, you step out of her cabin and walk the familiar corridors, reminiscent of the memories you have here. Studying a few minutes before tests, bunking classes, running to class when you're late, hanging out with your friends- these corridors have seen you grow in love, in friendship, in life. There's absolutely nothing that could ever replace these memories.

Mindlessly, you wander around the third floor, walking toward the end of the corridor before stopping in front of an old door, way too familiar to not try and push open.

While a part of you tells you it might not be a good idea to go into that room again, there's also a part of you that thinks it's a bloody brilliant idea.

Pushing the door open, you walk into the old dusty room, sighing in relief when you see a particular set of letters still carved on the wall.

CB and YN were here.

You finally let your tears run free, as you crouch down to touch the letters.

Your heart aches at how much you miss Changbin being an important part of your life and how much you miss being his top priority. And your heart aches for Changbin, who is so in love with his fiancé and has no idea he's being cheated on.

You almost want to leave this town and go back to your mother, away from this terrible mess. Yet you don't find it in yourself to act on those thoughts.

Maybe, it is your fear of abandoning him once again that stops you. Or, maybe it is simply the unconditional love you harbor for him.

* Surprisingly, Yang's Cafe is near empty that afternoon.

"Did something happen, y/n? You look really worried." Changbin has his arms crossed over his chest, looking at you with a tense frown.

"Um..it's kind of complicated." You sigh. For a second, you see the genuine concern and innocence on his face, and you wonder if it is worth telling him the truth at all because it would kill you to see him lose his smile but then, his engagement band shines on his ring finger and your stomach turns unpleasantly.

He has to know. From you. In person.

"Changbin, that day at your party...I saw something. " You whisper, "Something I shouldn't have. I should have turned a blind eye really but I can't. My conscience won't allow it. I'm sorry, Bin."

"Y/n, it's okay, just tell me," he reaches over and wraps his fingers around yours, soft and gentle, "You're scaring me."

"Changbin, your fiance is cheating on you. I-I saw her kissing another man that night. Chan saw it too." You feel sick even having to say this to him, "I think you should confront her."

He sucks in a deep breathe, his face completely void of any emotions as he extracts his hands from yours.

"I know." Is all he says.

His eyes drill into yours, as if accusing you of a crime. He looks angry. Just how he looked the day you brought Chan to his party.

"Why are you still marrying her then?" You question.

He sits up straight, "Y/n, I wish I could explain. But I can't. I'm sorry. And please, stay out of this, okay?"

"Why? Why should I stay out of it?" Your voice threatens to break, "I cannot watch my best friend marry a woman who's not loyal. You deserve better than this, Bin."

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Changbin's lips as he taps his foot against the floor, "Let me correct you, y/n. You were my best friend. Seven years ago. You're not anymore."

Your heart shatters.

A part of you knows you deserve this after ghosting him for seven long years. You were the center of each other's world at one point of time.How could you have been so selfish to ever think that your absence and lack of communication wouldn't hurt him?

"Changbin, I'm sorry for everything I did okay. B-but I never stopped thinking or worrying about you. Even for one second. And I still do."

Changbin pushes his chair back and stands up while you stay frozen in your seat.

"It doesn't seem like that though. "

"What do you even mean!"

"Chan. I mean Chan, y/n." He grabs his phone and purse, "Goodbye, y/n. I hope Chan turns out to be a better friend than I ever did." With that, the love of your life walks out of Yang's Cafe.

And for once, he doesn't even look back.

* "Y/n, don't let go of my hand!"

Changbin is panting heavily, his voice shaking with fear as he desperately tries to hold onto you.

He should have known it would be a bad idea to play badminton near the infamous cliff in your town yet when you had showed him your innocent smile and pleading eyes that day, he just couldn't say no.

Your sweaty hands clutch his, legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. Your free hand grabs the rough surface of the rocky cliff to keep yourself from falling.

You want to cry; but you're too traumatized to even let out more than a few terrified grunts. "Y/n," he yells, "I'm going to try and pull you up one more time, okay?."

You don't even remember how you had ended up in this situation; one second you were happily giggling, playing badminton with Changbin and in the next second, you found yourself hanging by the cliff, praying for your dear life.

With all the energy he has left, he tries to pull you up onto the surface.

"Y/n, you have to free the other hand. Let go of that rock." He pants.

You shake your head vigorously, you know you would not survive if you let go of the rock, you'd fall thousands of feet below into absolute nothingness.

"Y/n, please listen to me." Changbin pleads, now crying, "Please. I'll catch you, I promise. I'll not let you die. Just..please."

Changbin sounds like he's about to give up and in all honesty, you couldn't blame him really. Everytime your eyes fall on what's beneath you, a part of you loses hope.

"Please, come on, y/n," he's still pulling at your free hand, while his right hand awaits desperately to grab the other hand. A mixture or sweat and tears grace his face, making him shine under the bright afternoon sun. Your heart aches at the mere thought of never seeing him again- your friend, your childhood crush, your partner in everything.

Well, here goes nothing then.

You suck in a deep breath and let go the Rock, immediately reaching for Changbin. He is quick to grab both of your arms and in one swift movement, he pulls you up onto the surface.

You fall onto his chest, "Y-you saved me."

Changbin let's out a sob mixed with a relieved giggle, pulling you into his arms.

Your eyes feel heavy, as darkness slowly begins to engulf your vision.

"Oh God, I am so sorry this happened, y/n. It's all my fault." He cries, rubbing your back softly, "I'm so sorry. I thought I was going to lose you, oh God. Fuck!"

You want to tell him that it was never his fault, and that you wouldn't even be alive if not for him but your body betrays you and your body goes limp against his.

*

"I'm not leaving this neighborhood."

Your hands rest angrily on your waist as your mom frantically walks from your closet to where the suitcase is spread open on your bed, shifting all your clothes. She dumps them inside the suitcase, not bothering to fold them even.

"You will do as I say! That Seo Changbin tried to push you off of a cliff and heaven knows what he might do next!" Your mom yells back.

You sit at the edge of your bed, trying to keep yourself calm, "Mom, I told you it was an accident. I fell because I was going after the shuttlecock and didn't notice the cliff. Moreover, why would my best friend want try to kill me!"

Your mom let's out a sarcastic laugh, closing the suitcase roughly. She looks at you with eyes full of contempt and a part of you knows that there's no point in trying to convince her. Her mind is already made. Yet you refuse to go down without a fight.

"You're just sixteen, sweetie. You don't know anything about the cruel world, " your mother sighs, "Rich people are not friends with anyone. Changbin may be nice to you but he only sees you as a pathetic poor girl."

"Mom, we're not even poor!"

"Yes, I know. But those filthy rich businessmen consider everyone below their economic status poor. His family probably doesn't like him being friends with you which is why they asked him to get rid of you."

You think of Mrs. Seo's face in your head, always smiling and always welcoming. You remember Changbin's sister and how she'd promised to let you borrow her dress for this year's winter prom. And you think about Changbin- his face, his smile, his passion for music and his protectiveness towards you. Why would these people ever want to hurt you?

"Mom, you're being ridiculous right now! Do you even hear yourself!" You stand up from the bed, now beyond frustrated.

She walks upto you and grabs your arm tightly, nails digging into your skin as you whimper slightly. "You will listen to me. I am your mother and you will listen to me. " she growls, "Pack the rest of your stuff. We're leaving tomorrow."

When she finally walks out your bedroom, your first instinct is to dress yourself in your black hoodie and track pants, and quietly slip out of the back window of your room.

The cold air nips at your skin, goosebumps slowly appearing on your arms and legs but you're too preoccupied to pay too much heed to it.

You reach Changbin's house and like always, walk up to the backyard and climb upto his room through the emergency staircase.

When Changbin hears knocks on his window, he quickly removes his headphones, "y/n?"

He walks upto the window and let's you in, his heart more at peace now than it's ever been the entire day. The guilt from the accident you had earlier was clawing at his conscience.

His room is mostly dark except for his table lamp. You notice the lyrics notebook lying on the table, open with some scribbles and random phrases on the pages.

"How are you feeling?"

You sit at the edge of his bed, cross legged while he kneels on the floor to get to your level. His hands find yours naturally.

"Fine," you swallow the tears that have been accumulating since you left the house, "Changbin, I- we're leaving tomorrow."

Changbin is taken aback; his heart shattering into billions of pieces at your words.

"Leaving? What do you mean Leaving?" his voice trembles.

You lick your dry lips and tell him everything your mom had told you earlier. When his face twists bitterly, a part of you wishes you'd held your tongue yet a bigger part of you wants Changbin to know the truth now; you didn't want him sending you off with lies in his mind and the fear of him finding out some years later just killed you inside.

"I'm so sorry, Changbin. Mom's just not been okay after the divorce." Your voice breaks when Changbin refuses to look at you, "I know she's speaking bullshit. But there's absolutely nothing I can do to change her mind, I've tried I swear. I'm sorry, Changbin."

When Changbin finally does look at you, even in the dim lit room, you see the tears glistening on his face, mirroring the ones that roll down your cheeks. "Why are you sorry, y/n? I don't blame your mom." He mutters, "It was partly my fault. I should have taken more care, I-"

You cup his cheek, "Shh. Bin, are we really going to spend my last night here crying and blaming ourselves? We might never see each other again."

The words sink deep into his soul, and he nods. He wills his tears back in as he grabs your hand tighter.

"Okay. What do you wanna do?"

You smile a little, "You're not gonna like it though. "

"Stargazing it is then." He giggles a little as the both of you make your way to balcony attached to his room.

It is quiet outside, unlike the noise in your head and you feel the calmness spreading to you when you look up at the stars.

Changbin brings a picnic mat from inside and spreads it out on the floor, along with two pillows and a blanket.

"We'll stay in touch, yeah? If you ever need anything, I'll be right here." He reassures you, lying beside you, hands behind his head.

You smile yet you cannot bring yourself to promise him the same because you know your mother would do everything in her power to push the two of you apart, even to the point of physically hurting Changbin. You would never want that so you'd rather distance yourself and let Changbin forget about you. And maybe, just maybe fate would be a little nicer to you and decide to bring you into his life again. Many years later.

He presses a soft kiss to your head, "You'll always be my best friend, y/n. I don't care how far we are."

It takes everything in your being to not repeat the words.

*

"Changbin, come on we're getting you to the hospital this instant, okay?" Mrs. Seo is furious next morning, running from room to room, looking through the list of doctors she'd saved just in case of emergency.

When she looks at her son, sitting on the sofa with one of his eye irises turning a glowing red, she is reassured that this is an emergency.

"How did this even happen, mom? I swear I didn't try to do anything funny with my eye." He murmurs, scared, "It feels so itchy, gosh!"

Mrs.Seo looks at him with concern just when the doctor picks the call, "Oh, hello Dr.Lee! Thank god you picked up!"

After his mom walks out of his room, Changbin quickly types you a text,

Binnie: Hey. Did you leave already?

Y/nnie: No not yet. We've stopped at the doctor's.

Changbin's eyes widen in alarm.

Binnie: What why?

You look at your face in the decorative mirror at the doctor's waiting room, one of your irises burning into a bright shade of ruby.

Y/nnie: Mom's running a cold.

You close the messenger app before he even replies, deciding to change your number and deleting all your old contacts as soon as you move into your new house. And as much as it hurt you, this one text turned out to be the last time Changbin and you ever talked.

*

It has been raining all day, which means you were stuck in your goddamn house with nothing to do but cry about Changbin and your lost friendship and your broken heart.

After you manage to get some food into your body during dinner time, you crawl back to your room and look into the mirror as you comb your hair and moisturize your skin.

(Self care is important, y'all)

Your red iris stares back at you, taunting your mistakes and calling you a coward.

If only you had still tried to keep in touch with him, if only that stupid accident wouldn't have happened in the first place, if only.

Suddenly, a knock on your balcony door makes you jump in your place.

Shit. Is it a burglar?

You grab the closest thing that could be classified as a weapon - which happens to be an umbrella.

The knocking continues.

"Y/n, it's Changbin." He yells, "Can I please talk to you?"

You freeze in your spot.

Why in the world is he here? Does he have anything worse to say? Is he here to invite you to his wedding? But why would he sneak in through the balcony when he can easily ring the main door bell.

"Y/n, are you in there?"

You quickly walk upto the door and slide it open, revealing Changbin, completely drenched in the rain. His wet hair stuck to his face and "Shit. What the- God, come inside!"

He obeys and tiptoes inside your room, a guilty expression plastered on his face.

You guide him directly to the bathroom and offer him a towel.

"What are you even doing here, Bin?" You lean against the door frame, hands crossed over your chest.

He is drying his hair with the towel when he looks up at you as if to answer your question but he stops. His mouth hangs open as his eyes remain glued to your face.

And that's when you realize why he looks so surprised.

"Shit- fuck." You turn around immediately, "my lenses," you mutter to yourself.

But before you can even walk upto your dressing table, Changbin has caught your wrist and spun you around, pulling you closer to his body.

"Your eye." He let's out a shaky breath.

"Yes, I know. Please don't freak out. It's always been like this after -"

"After the accident." He finishes your sentence, "I know."

Your mouth runs dry as his face draws in closer, "What do you mean you know? What do you know?"

He let's go of your wrist and takes a step back, turning around so that his back faces you.

And when he turns to look at you again, you swear you could have passed out there and then.

"Y-you have it too." You whisper, weak in the knees, "You have a red iris too."

Changbin gives you a small smile, "Yes, y/n."

"But why? What does this mean?" You say, "Is it a symptom of some chronic illness?"

"It's a soul mark."

"What's a soul mark?"

"It's a mark that exists on the bodies of soulmates."

You feel a pang in your chest; like someone was squeezing your heart out of your chest.

"Right," You fall back onto the bed, dazed with the sudden piece of information, "And how do you know all this?"

Changbin kneels down in front of you, hands finding yours. He looks more relaxed than he did since the first day you come back to town.

It almost feels like you had been given back your old friend.

"I've been doing my research, y/n. After you left, this is all I've been doing." He says, "This is also the reason why I had gotten engaged. By that time, I had given up on finding a soulmate. So I just settled for whatever I got. I didn't even feel bad when I found out my fiance was not in love with me. For the world, we might look like a happy couple, but truly, it was just a marriage of convenience for our parents' business."

You bite your lips wondering how to respond to these words. He'd laid bare his heart in front of you, something you never thought he'd do ever again.

"What now?" You say, tired.

He intertwines your fingers, "Also, I'm sorry for yesterday. I shouldn't have said all that."

You nod, "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it. And for the record, I and Chan have nothing going on."

"And for the record, I also broke off my engagement."

Your eyes widen as a gasp leaves your lips, "What? Why?"

"Because when I told my parents that I do not love my fiancé, and that I have only ever loved you, they said my happiness was more important than their business."

When you don't reply to his words, he looks worried, "Hey, you don't have to feel burdened to like me back and all okay? Literally, if you want me to leave you alone, I will. I understand-"

You pull him by the nape and place the softest, gentlest, most sincere kiss on his lips.

"I feel the same way, dumbass." You sigh as you pull him into your arms.

He muzzles his face in the crook of your neck, playing with your hair from behind, "So what now?"

"Let's start with a date." You say, "Let's take it slow."

Changbin wraps his arms tighter around you, kissing your cheek, "As you wish, my love. "

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Basic worldbuilding questions

My previous post on non-primate humanoids went over some basic on creating an expressive face. And this time I'm stepping away from the anatomy art tips to give you an idea of the process I use to work out some basics when I do worldbuilding for a fantasy race.

f(image description: a simple colored chart showing different environments, the four animals I've been using in this series (deer, wolf, rat, and lizard) alongside basic questions about worldbuilding that I will detail below. end description.)

So how do you build a culture for a new fantasy race that makes sense for them and doesn't lead you to accidentally write some really generic and potentially offensive traits into your world? Yeah, we've all been there, especially us white creators. Take all this with a grain of salt and go check out @writingwithcolor please. I am in fact a white person and I may very well be ignorantly stepping over lines in my own worldbuilding that I am not currently aware of.

that said, this did get very long so I'll put the rest under a readmore. and here's a quick glance at the humanoids I've been drawing for this project, now in clothing!

(Image description: the deer, wolf, rat, and lizard humanoids from my previous posts. They are all wearing clothing that suits their environment and resources. The deer person is wearing a tunic made from bark cloth, which is close fitting and has a segmented skirt for flexible leg motion. They also have jewelry on their antlers. The wolf person is wearing an outfit and short cloak made from fur and hide. Their knife handle, drawstring ends, and earring all appear to be made of bone. The rat person is wearing cotton clothes colored green and blue, and carrying a large backpack. Their pants have several pockets. The lizard person is wearing a very draped and patchwork style dress with a hood that appears to be made of shed reptile skin with some bright blue accents made from stone and thread. end description.)

But here is how I try my best to avoid that by focusing more on what makes sense for the environments and people I am writing.

Environment questions: Where are your new people living? A forest? Underground? In the open plains or the mountains?

- what are their available food sources here? How about water sources?

- are there animals here that they can domesticate and/or hunt?

- what are the environmental obstacles to survival? Harsh weather? Cave-ins? Deadly cliffs? How can your people overcome these?

- what resources can be found here to make tools, clothes, and buildings? How will they be used? Do your people have any uniquely clever ways they use their local resources to their advantage?

- are there ways to develop agriculture here? Is the environment good for growing large field crops like wheat and corn? If it's a forest, perhaps the agriculture is more about maintaining the wild crops like berry bushes and mushrooms. Do some research on different kinds of agriculture, it's quite interesting.

Questions concerning the animal evolution: What, if any, particular animal are you using as a base for the evolution of your people? How will this affect the way they develop a culture?

- what is the basic lifestyle they follow? Do they live in large communal family groups? Are they nomadic, migrating with the seasons or following prey?

- what are their dietary needs? Are they herbivores? Omnivores? Perhaps even obligate carnivores? How would the food they eat affect their culture?

- what sort of social behaviors would they develop? Are they combative with each other because of a hierarchy or territorial defense? Is platonic physical touch a normal thing for them? Do they get socially awkward because they are instinctively solitary?

- what sort of physical adaptations do they have for their environment and how has this affected their culture? Perhaps they are built for burrowing and have a set of social rules to avoid tossing dirt into each other's faces? Or they are quick and light on their feet, so they have developed a culture with many important dances?

- what are the instinctive behaviors they still carry from their animal ancestors? Are they always alert and watchful? Do they hibernate? Maybe their daily schedule includes a communal afternoon nap in the warm sun?

All of these are good questions to help spark ideas for culture and general worldbuilding. It's still okay to take inspiration from real life, of course, and you're never going to truly create something wholly unique and totally detached from any real cultures. But I find that asking myself these sorts of questions helps me flesh out my world far beyond simply poking around some vague real life tidbits and hoping they'll stick. So I hope they help you too!

[pikapeppa]

Hey you ❤ Your local enabler here - give me five of your fav lines or paragraphs you wrote in 2021. Indulge me? ❤

🥺🙏❤ How sweet are you to ask this?? It's always nice to reflect back on the previous year's work! This was a challenge mostly because my 2021 fics were long and I forgot some of what I wrote... 😂😂😂 but I hope these excerpts will be pleasing!!

In no particular order: Pika's fave excerpts from 2021!

From Inadvisable: Solas x Nare Lavellan

This was the first illicit encounter between Nare and Solas, who is her thesis supervisor in this fic. In a nutshell, Nare touches herself while Solas lectures to her on the phone, and I just had a lot of fun researching and writing for this scene.

**********************

“Did you not read the section about neuroscience and art?” Solas asked.

“I… maybe I missed that part,” she hedged.

“Am I obliged to read that section to you as well?” Solas said ruefully.

“Yes,” Nare blurted. “I — I mean — yes, please.”

There was a brief pause. Then Solas sighed. “All right. On page 260, the author writes the following: ‘Another aspect that cannot be ignored is the very real attraction for the artist of access to sophisticated medical imaging technologies such as fMRI and electron microscopy. The impulse for artists to use technology to see ever more detailed descriptions of the body is nothing new; the challenge, I would suggest, is not to be led or seduced by the technology.’”

While Solas read the passage, Nare closed her eyes to focus on the sound of his voice. Her left hand was resting idly on her belly, but as Solas’s quiet voice filled her ears, her hand drifted lower over her belly and toward her leggings.

Silently but shamelessly, she slid her hand into her panties. They were completely soaked and slippery, and when Nare pressed her finger into her folds, it was to find her clit swollen and wet, like it was begging to be petted.

She began to touch herself. Meanwhile, Solas was elaborating on the passage from the article. “Unfortunately, the author doesn’t expound any further on this point, but I believe it’s an important one to emphasize, especially given this context,” he said. “Modern medical imaging techniques can yield fascinating images of the human body that some would argue are, in themselves, works of art. But an artist who seeks to use those images cannot afford be seduced by their aesthetic beauty, or they will run the risk of losing the artistic goal that brought them to collaborate with medical professionals in the first place.”

“Mm-hmm,” Nare murmured, and she curled her hips toward her own hand. Having Solas’s voice in her ears, the caramel-smooth sound of his voice… gods, imagine if he was lying beside her right now, touching her the way she was touching herself while he talked in her ear about art and science and the way they overlapped…

The fantasy sent a pulse of pleasure straight to her groin. Without quite meaning to, she let out a soft little gasp.

*****************

From Inadvisable: Abelas x Athera Lavellan

In which Athera slowly touches Abelas's arm, and it makes his brain go into a 404 error. A lot of people mentioned that this particular scene really stood out to them, and I certainly enjoyed writing it. 😉

**********************

He trailed off, distracted by Athera — or rather, by her hand. She had released his hand, and her fingers were sliding down his palm toward his wrist.

He swallowed hard. She was slowly pushing back the sleeve of his sweater, pushing it up to gather toward his elbow.

He lifted his arm slightly to help her efforts. Her eyes darted to his face and her fingers went still, and for a suspended, breathless moment, he just stared into her brilliant and luminous silvery eyes.

Her gaze dropped to his bare forearm. Then, very slowly, she began to trail her fingers along the inside of his arm.

Abelas couldn’t breathe. He could barely think. His mind felt frozen, stunned, stupified by the feeling of her fingers brushing over his skin. The tips of her fingers made their way slowly up toward his wrist, skimming over the veins that lay just beneath his skin, and by the time her fingers were touching his palm once more, his heart was pounding so fiercely that he wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear it.

“You have nice forearms,” she murmured.

“Nice forearms?” he repeated stupidly.

“Yeah,” she said softly. She brushed her thumb over the tendon inside his wrist, then trailed her knuckles along his arm back toward his elbow, and he held his breath as he watched her fingers tracing a slow and careful path along his skin. The way she was touching him, the delicacy of her touch, the deliberate way her fingertips were following the lines of his veins… He had never been touched this way. Never before had anyone taken the time to touch his forearm in this careful and attentive way. Other parts of his body, certainly; his ex-lovers had petted his chest and his abs and his thighs in the midst of sex, or grabbed his biceps or even his buttocks to pull him closer. But his forearms? Never. And certainly not in a manner that wasn’t overtly sexual.

The way that Athera was touching him now, in contrast, was… it was breathtakingly intimate. More intimate and more sensual than anything he’d ever felt — more sensual even than sex. The way she touched him made him feel as though something intangible and nameless was swelling and aching inside his chest, something that had always been there but that had never truly been brought to life, and as Athera’s delicate fingertips played their way along the sensitive skin of his forearm, the warm and breathtaking sense of fullness in his body continued to bloom until it was almost unbearably pleasurable.

***************************

From Dream A Little Dream Of Me: Felassan x Tamaris Lavellan

I love these two. I fucking LOVE writing dialogue for them. I love all of the dialogue in this fic, but I forced myself to pick a little section of it. 😂 For context: this is a prequel to The Love That Grows From Violence, in which Tamaris and Solas are still together, and Tamaris happens to encounter Felassan in a dream.

*****************************

“Are you a mage?” Felassan asked.

She shook her head and idly ran her fingers over the redwood tree’s mottled bark. “No. I mean, not — honestly, no. I’ve got a talent for talking to spirits, and my boyfriend’s been teaching me to expand that into using magic in other ways.”

Felassan quirked an eyebrow. “Your boyfriend, you say?”

She gave him a mocking look. “Yes, my boyfriend. Does that disappoint you?”

”Enormously,” he said. “At the same time, it’s inconsequential.”

She gave him a disbelieving look. What the fuck did he mean by that? Before she could pick on him about it, he delicately spat out the piece of bark, then turned back to her with a smile. “And how exactly is this boyfriend of yours teaching you to strengthen your connection to the Fade?”

“Mindfulness stuff and meditation, mainly,” she said. “How to be more aware of my own ties to the Fade. And this, actually.” She waved vaguely at the forest, then leaned against the redwood tree. “I rarely dream, so he’s been trying to teach me how to dream on purpose. This is the first time I’ve ever been able to do it.”

His eyebrows rose appreciatively. “Congratulations are in order, then. This is a very good lucid dream for a beginner. I can only imagine the dreams you’ll conjure with more time and training.”

“Yes, that’s what—” She broke off suddenly and snapped her fingers. “That’s why you seem familiar! You’ve got the same accent as my boyfriend.”

“Hm,” Felassan said. “Where does his accent hail from?”

“Some little village in the north called…” She frowned. “Shit, I’ve forgotten what the village is called. Or maybe he didn’t tell me? No, that’s stupid, he must have told me. I’ll have to ask him again.”

“Interesting,” Felassan said. “And what is your boyfriend’s name?”

Tamaris gave him a challenging look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would,” he said. “It behooves me to learn the name of the man I’m going to be cuckolding.”

**********************

From Until We Meet Again: Geralt x Reader (you)

Funnily enough, this might be one of my more "lyrical"/"poetic" fics, even though it honestly was just motivated by my self-indulgent wish to have sex with Geralt HAHAHA. I usually don't enjoy writing descriptions of locations, but I really love Skellige in the game, so I enjoyed writing this little section.

*********************

Time is a funny thing in the Skelligan Isles. There are times when it moves in a predictable cycle like it does anywhere else: you wake up and go to work, and when the working day is done, you eat supper and read until it’s time to sleep. When the morning comes, you do it all over again.

At other times, however, time moves slowly and languidly here, as though you’re walking through a dream. This usually happens when you’re on your own, after a hike to the top of one of the island’s many steep and mountainous peaks, or as you overlook the sea from the edge of a vertiginous cliff. You gaze across the jagged landscape of Ard Skellig, taking in the whistling of wind in your ears and the fresh cool scent of the sea, and you marvel at the stillness of it all. This land can be so calm sometimes, so tranquil despite the wolves and the sirens and the hushed sway of pine trees and ranogrin that liberally dot the snow-brushed hills and peaks. As you stand alone gazing silently across the face of Ard Skellig, you can’t help but revel in its stark and uncompromising beauty.

Skellige is not an easy place to live. These lands are not fertile or bountiful, and even the shortest trip between isles can be treacherous if the weather suddenly turns. But the people are down-to-earth and the way of life is simple, and it’s not long before you settle comfortably into your routine.

Four months later, when the first bite of winter is in the air, Geralt of Rivia enters your life once more.

***********************

From That Which Blooms Through Winter's Grasp (Geralt/Reader): a conversation between Geralt, Eskel, Lambert and you

I love the Kaer Morons Wolf Boys and their sweet-but-gruff brotherhood. I really enjoyed writing this little scene where Lambert lets his guard down a little bit and pines about Keira Metz -- and ESKEL JUST NEEDS SOME LOVIN' TOO. 😭

********************

Lambert sighs and idly taps the table, then gives Geralt a pleading look. “Give me the vodka, huh? I can’t talk about this shit while I’m sober.”

Geralt slides the bottle across the table toward him, and you all wait patiently as Lambert pours and drinks two more shots. He places the empty tumbler on the table and toys idly with it for a moment, and you watch sympathetically as his scowl softens into something more pensive.

Finally, without lifting his eyes from the tumbler, he speaks. “Sometimes after we finish fucking, we’d be lying there, right, and she’d be so… I’d look at her, and she’d be looking at me like…” He trails off and presses his lips together hard, then rubs a hand over his hair. “I’d just — I’d think to myself: maybe this is it. Maybe this is… maybe that’s all I need, you know? Her, and — and that big fuckin’ bed in Brugge.” He looks up, and your heart twists at the vulnerability in his face. “It was good sometimes, you know?”

“Sounds like it,” Eskel says.

“Shut the fuck up,” Lambert snaps. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” Eskel says quietly. “I don’t know what that’s like.”

**************************

I hope these excerpts were as satisfying to read as they were for me to dig out! 😂❤

- love from your friendly neighbourhood Pika xoxo

[shattersstar]

evergreen

and if the devil was to ever see you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent (part four)

pairing: adrian tepes x reader

excerpt: You were grinning, running through all the most beautiful, fullest, dreamiest of adjectives to capture the face of your love. You tilted your head to the left, and he followed, the two of you grinning at each other with soft, soundless laughs. You closed your eyes for a moment, inhaling and blinking at him with a new found clarity, the words flowing effortlessly.

warning(s): brief injury mention, fluff, this is so,,hopelessly romantic, heart shape lockets making a reappearance

a/n: sorry ive only been writing for adrian my brain has been in alucard lockdown and it wont end (although this might be my favourite thing ive ever written so i’m..less sorry)

—

It was quiet, the distant din of the forest brushed over the two of you. It was a reminder of the life surrounding the desolate place you called home. Your eyes were closed as you focused on the sound, the breathing of trees and humming of streams. You supposed Adrian heard it all so clearly, the animals and plants alike all alive in the surrounding forest. You strained to hear the crunch of fallen leaves by foxes or snap of fallen branches by deers.

It was autumn and the world was alive with harvest. Animals prepared for winter, plants returned to the soil and tree lines morphed into flame. It was one of the last warm days, the sun high in the cloudy sky, shining onto the picnic you two had set up. You were laying down, letting the sun soak over your while Adrian sat cross legged behind you. Your head was in his lap, the book you were reading was resting on his thigh above your head, opened onto the page you were on. Adrian had brought a book as well, but discarded it after a few minutes of reading. It was out of date, he explained, the science was false and he decided to draw over the useless words instead.

You assumed there was some value in its history, but didn’t question it as he silently sketched. Adrian was always such an artist, often drawing you, or other’s he cared for. He could sketch Sypha and Trevor from memory, yet often butchered some detail of the latter for his own amusement you supposed. He drew his parents often too, but was quick to erase such images, as if even seeing their face was still too painful.

He had begun painting more recently. You liked sitting and working on something while he painted, catching occasionally glimpses at his work. Adrian was never shy about what he created, often showing you without prompting, and never dismissing your request to see his art. He had agreed he was good at it, the technical precision was there, but the heart was not. You were quick to disagree with such sentiment, and yes you could see it within the landscapes and dull memories he created on paper or canvas, but the love was there in the faces of those he cared for.

Each line he added to you, each bit of shading and highlight showcased you in a way that held more adoration than any words could supply. You liked seeing yourself from Adrian’s eyes, seeing your beauty as he perceived it. It was more flattering than anything anyone before him had said to you, not like Adrian would want to hear such things.

You weren’t sure how you knew he was watching, sketching you as you laid in his lap, but you knew he did. You even remained still, forgoing reading to be his muse for the last moments of fall. You didn’t mind getting to lay in the lap of the one you loved, a soft blanket underneath while the sun started to arch towards the west. You could’ve fallen asleep there, nature washing over you and Adrian watching over you. It was a place of peace, a moment you’d engrain into your mind and have a memento—a piece of art to show for it.

You only opened your eyes when Adrian let out an uncharacteristically loud sigh, he didn’t need to breathe, he only did so on his own volition. You peered up at him, sun dancing in his dark lashes. “What is plaguing you so beloved?” You hummed, tilting your head back more as you spoke.

"My chest, it aches.” He admitted with a soft voice. You sat up as his words registered in your ears, worry lacing your features as you moved to sit on your knees, beckoning him closer.

“Still? Why?” He turned his head to the side as your hand smoothed down his slender neck, brushing his collar aside and revealing the tip of the scar that cut diagonal through his torso. You kept your fingers off the injury, but untied the front of his shirt to reveal more of it.

“I am unsure, it just does some days.”

“This has happened before?”

“A few times, yes.” He sighed again, you felt it under your palm that rested next to the pink, raised skin.

“I wished you told me.”

“I did not wish to worry you.”

“And yet I am worried.” Adrian turned towards your other hand, resting on his shoulder and dipped his head down to kiss your wrist. It was a gesture of apology and you accepted it was you let your hand cup his face, lips pressing a kiss to your palm. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t think so.” You frowned, shifting your knees against the blanket. “And somehow I’m not surprised you aren’t pleased with that answer.”

“How can I be pleased when you, my dear, are living in pain?”

“Don’t be pleased then, be appeased.” Adrian shrugged, still speaking into your palm. You let your fingertips graze the edge of his scar before dropping both hands from him.

“If I must.” He chuckled at that, low and warm as your hands found his knees. You gave them a squeeze, almost to check if he still existed before turning, and placing yourself into his lap. You were careful not to lean into his chest, but Adrian eased you against it, his forearm wrapping around your stomach while his other hand brushed your book from his leg. “Now show me what you were drawing.”

“Of course beloved.” He hummed from behind you, picking up his green covered book and letting you flip through the drawings now masking the words. And you were right, many—most were of you.

A few trees, a tired outline of the castle, faces you didn’t know, but still somehow, every few pages was you, lounging in his lap, or from some other memory he stored away. They made you smile, less worried as warmth overtook you.

“Do you ever draw yourself?” You asked once you reached the last sketch, lingering on it.

“No, the image of myself in my mind changes far too often.”

“Oh?” You were surprised by Adrian’s answer, you expected something darker you supposed.

“I see myself one way, and then...I do not. I cannot draw what constantly changes.”

“Why does it change?”

“You.”

One syllable was more breathtaking than a single drawing he had ever done of you.

“Oh.” You found yourself on repeat, closing the book and letting out a slow breath.

“And I supposed other’s I’ve met, but mostly you.” It’s always you, he does not say despite how well it sits in his mouth.

You knew you had impacted Adrian, only a fool would say they didn’t, but to know that the way he constructed himself in his brain, how he felt when he thought of it, how he saw himself in his dreams, how he saw himself with you were all changed by you and how you loved him felt like a deeper proclamation than i love you.

“I still wish you would though, what am I supposed to put in this locket?” Your voice held an air of teasing, but a current of seriousness laced it as well.

“I could try, if you could like.”

You were silent for a moment, you didn’t want him to settle on a version of himself to etch into existence. Not when he was ever changing in his mind's eyes. “What if—“ You twisted carefully to look at him, noses brushing as you did. “What if you drew yourself from how I saw you?” You asked, wanting his art to convey his beauty as it did yours.

Adrian pondered it for a moment, before tilting his head and surprising your lips with his. “Yes.” He whispered against your mouth before finding his book yet again.

You slipped from his lap to give him space and studied him for a long moment. He didn’t shift under your gaze, or look away, but instead studied your back. You were grinning, running through all the most beautiful, fullest, dreamiest of adjectives to capture the face of your love. You tilted your head to the left, and he followed, the two of you grinning at each other with soft, soundless laughs. You closed your eyes for a moment, inhaling and blinking at him with a new found clarity, the words flowing effortlessly.

Serious mouth, something that hides smiles and fangs. Lips that slope into something heartbreaking—a smile like no other.

He grinned at that, eyes dropping to the page as he began drawing.

Soft eyes, set deep, but still shining. Sharp like daggers and holding handfuls of sunrays in them. Not cold with sadness, but heavy with it.

“Heavy with love too.” He hummed, earning a kiss on his forehead before you settled back to describing him.

Nose…

You paused your words, letting Adrian catch up to your lovely description, while you pondered on it too. You knew this was much for him, so much love filling his ears, outward and heedy. Yet it didn’t feel like enough, like it captured how much his appearances enraptured you, but as his heart did too. You wanted him to see your love through your eyes.

It was a daunting task, and yet you carried on. You reached out, brushing over his nose with your index finger, as if the words lived in your fingertips and could only be released by touch. You furrowed your brows, lips parting before you took Adrian’s hand, the one holding the book. He kept his gaze on you as you brought his slender fingers to his nose, tracing it as you did. You loved all Adrian’s features, but his nose especially, and no words could describe the beautiful feature that pulled his whole face together.

My favourite thing.

He let his attention fall back to the drawing, a bloodless blush could’ve warmed his face with the kind descriptions you imparted onto him. He knew you loved him, you proclaimed it enough, but the sweet words that overtook this dimming autumn day were even more dizzying than he expected. And you weren’t done yet, unrelenting in your words and adoration for him.

Sharp contours—jaw, cheekbones—with an underlying kindness, youthful softness to the angular curves.

Beautiful forehead, my favourite place to kiss. And press myself to.

Brows low, very precise—too serious most of the time.

Hairline like the ocean, framing the sand and sometimes sweeping over it.

You twirled the forever loose curl that hung forward, always draping against his smooth skin. He wanted to lean into your touch, but his attention was on the page.

Hair long, softer than any silk. Golden—not like honey, but wheat fields blowing in the breeze. And thick, with lazy waves throughout it.

You stayed quiet after that, hoping it was enough. You were all warm throughout now, despite how the evening had fallen over you two. You wanted to climb back into Adrian’s lap, but instead you moved to sit cross legged, toying with a loose thread on his pants, twisting the string from the seam by his knee around your finger until his shoulders dropped and the pen stopped moving.

You let your hands rest in your lap, and you watched him study it for a long moment. You wanted to ask if it was okay—some version of him he could agree with, yet he brought the pen back, scrawling something in his tight, professional handwriting and tearing the page from the book with precision.

The drawing took up one corner, the words printed in the background barely noticeable to the bust drawn over them. He folded the piece of paper, once, then twice. A tiny square sitting in his palm, before Adrian finally met your gaze. He reached out, cool fingertips grazing over your neck as he brought your heart shaped locket to sit in his other palm. He used his thumb to open it, placing the piece of paper inside and closing it again.

He kissed the smooth metal before letting it fall back against your sternum, smiling with a haziness that made you feel drunk of love as well. You took his hand in yours, Adrian quick to intertwine fingers before you could settle your palm to his. He urged you closer, uncrossing his legs and letting you take up space between them. “Do you feel better?” You hummed, the pain that had overcome him before not leaving your mind.

It wasn’t like you to forget so easily.

“Hm, better? Yes.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of your nose.

“Are you just saying that?”

“No, of course not.”

“I find that hard to believe, you often dwell in pain my dear. Especially alone.”

“I know,” He sighed yet again, bringing his free hand to your chin and drawing your attention to him. “If you’d like, I believe I have found a way that you can help, make me feel better.”

“Yes, what is it?”

He smiled—heartbreakingly. “Marry me?”

For a quiet beat, you paused, the words reaching your ears, settling in your short term memory before they processed into something that rang forever in your head. You and Adrian had talked about marriage, he had settled on the notion it was a frivolous display and he had everything he needed with you. And you agreed. He was everything you needed.

And now, he needed to be your husband.

You tucked some of his hair behind his ear, leaning in with a low voice, “My love, don’t you know?” You asked, blinking up with a slanted grin, “I’ve been married to you from the moment we met.” He breathed out a chuckle, reedy and low.

“Then,” His palms cupped your cheeks, forehead pressing into yours. “Let me marry you.”

“Yes,” You breathed into him, “Yes you can marry me.”

-

It was the first day of winter when you finally opened your locket. You unfolded his drawing carefully, the likeness you wanted to convey hung in every inked line. Your fiancé existed in both your hearts now.

Your fingers brushed over the words, creased from the folding, but still clear.

It’s always you, my betrothed.

[obligatorilypretentious]

queer classic book recs!!

Image description under the cut! Please tell me if I did something wrong and I will gladly change it!

The other recs will be in the reblog!

[Each slide excluding the title screen includes 3 photos relating to the book, largely alternative covers of each in a small grid format.]

Slide One: In the center is a box with interior text reading "13 lgbtq classics and 1 “modern” classic. Recs in the comments welcome!" The top left corner includes an image of a calligraphy quill. Underneath this is text that reads "Disclaimer! The beginning of this list is.. Very White, but don't worry it gets more diverse as the books get more recent!!" In the top right corner is a text box reading "Look up trigger warnings or I’ll steal your gender! … or give it back!!" under this is a picture of an open book displayed in the foreground and another stack of books in the background.

Slide Two: Carmilla by J. Sheridan Le Fanu.

1872

Lesbian/wlw but written by a man

vampires!

“Following a near-fatal carriage collision, the beautiful young Carmilla is taken in by the narrator Laura and her father.”

While this book plays into the stereotype of the “monteress, seductive lesbian,” it is one of the oldest and most famous classical texts depicting a lesbian relationship. Toxic AF.

Slide Three: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

1890

not explicitly queer (subtext)

but gay (mlm) tho

“Enthralled by his own exquisite portrait, Dorian Gray exchanges his soul for eternal youth and beauty. Influenced by his friend Lord Henry Wotton, he is drawn into a corrupt double life, indulging his desires in secret while remaining a gentleman in the eyes of polite society. Only his portrait bears the traces of his decadence.”

This book contains Anti-semitism, Racism, Sexism and is honestly a product of its time. Oscar Wilde is certainly a character.

Slide Four: Orlando by Virginia Woolf

1928

sapphic/gender exploration

“The novel opens as Orlando, a young nobleman in Elizabeth's England, awaits a visit from the Queen and traces his experience with first love as England under James I lies locked in the embrace of the Great Frost.”

Main Character is racist and anti-Semitic. While her writing is incredibly important and impactful as a queer figure, she will always be white before she is queer.

Slide Five: The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall

1928

lesbian/wlw

originally banned

“Stephen is an ideal child of aristocratic parents—a fencer, a horse rider, and a keen scholar. Stephen grows to be a war hero, a bestselling writer, and a loyal, protective lover. But Stephen is a woman, and her lovers are women. As her ambitions drive her, and society confines her, Stephen is forced into desperate actions.”

This book contains racism, use of the N-word, sexism, homophobia & lots of outdated ideas in general.

Slide Six: Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin

1956

gay/mlm

“In a 1950s Paris swarming with expatriates and characterized by dangerous liaisons and hidden violence, an American finds himself unable to repress his impulses, despite his determination to live the conventional life he envisions for himself. After meeting and proposing to a young woman, he falls into a lengthy affair with an Italian bartender and is confounded and tortured by his sexual identity as he oscillates between the two.”

OMG! A classic on this list in which I can't find any evidence of racism or antisemitism! /srs. Imagine that- it's almost like POC classical authors are important to teach about! /hj

Slide Seven: Maurice by E.M. Forster

1971

gay/mlm

fluffy, but homophobia exists in the story as well.

“Maurice is heartbroken over unrequited love, which opened his heart and mind to his own sexual identity. In order to be true to himself, he goes against the grain of society’s often unspoken rules of class, wealth, and politics.”

This book contains the use of the g slur. Please tell me if I missed something!

Slide Eight: HERmione by H.D.

1981

queer/sapphic woman author

poetry

so mf sad bro I mean look at that blurb

“An interior self-portrait of the poet H.D. (1886-1961) is what can best be described as a 'find', a posthumous treasure. ‘I am Hermione Gart, a failure' -she cried in her dementia, 'I am Her, Her, Her.”

To my knowledge, this book isn't problematic- please tell me if it is though!!

Slide Nine: Zami: A New Spelling of My Name by Audre Lorde

1982

lesbian/wlw

A staple of lesbian lit from before the peak of an activist’s career. Great read.

“From the author's vivid childhood memories in Harlem to her coming of age in the late 1950s, the nature of Audre Lorde's work is cyclical. It especially relates the linkage of women who have shaped her.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic

Slide Ten: The Color Purple by Alice Walker

1982

features queer women

has a movie adaptation!

“Separated as girls, sisters Celie and Nettie sustain their loyalty to and hope in each other across time, distance, and silence. Through a series of letters spanning twenty years, first from Celie to God, then the sisters to each other despite the unknown, the novel draws readers into its rich and memorable portrayals of Celie, Nettie, Shug Avery, and Sofia and their experience.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic

Slide Eleven: Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson

1985

lesbian/wlw

“This is the story of Jeanette, adopted and brought up by her mother as one of God's elect. Zealous and passionate, she seems destined for life as a missionary, but then she falls for one of her converts. At sixteen, Jeanette decides to leave the church, her home, and her family, for the young woman she loves. Innovative, punchy, and tender.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic- but warning, there are quite heavy themes!

Slide Twelve: Dykes to Watch Out For by Alison Bechdel

1986

lesbian/wlw

a classic comedy comic + a really good insight & look into lesbian culture

“Grin, giggle, and guffaw your way through this celebrated cartoonist's graphic commentary of contemporary lesbian life.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic*

*contains d-slur used by lesbians in a non-offensive way

Slide Thirteen: Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg

1993

lesbian/gender identity around lesbianism

“Woman or man? This internationally acclaimed novel looks at the world through the eyes of Jess Goldberg, a masculine girl growing up in the "Ozzie and Harriet" McCarthy era and coming out as a young butch lesbian in the pre-Stonewall gay drag bars of a blue-collar town. Stone Butch Blues traces a propulsive journey, powerfully evoking history and politics while portraying an extraordinary protagonist full of longing, vulnerability, and working-class grit.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic

Slide Fourteen: Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters

1998

lesbian/wlw

historical romance

“Nan King, an oyster girl, is captivated by the music hall phenomenon Kitty Butler, a male impersonator extraordinaire treading the boards in Canterbury. Through a friend at the box office, Nan manages to visit all her shows and finally meet her heroine. Soon after, she becomes Kitty's dresser, and the two head for the bright lights of Leicester Square where they begin a glittering career as music-hall stars in an all-singing and dancing double act. At the same time, behind closed doors, they admit their attraction to each other and their affair begins.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic

Slide Fifteen: Under the Udala Trees By Chinelo Okparanta

2015

lesbian/wlw

modern classic imo, look into the coexistence of native Nigerian culture & queerness

“Ijeoma comes of age as her nation does; born before independence, she is eleven when civil war breaks out in the young republic of Nigeria. Sent away to safety, she meets another displaced child, and they, star-crossed, fall in love. They are from different ethnic communities. They are also both girls. When their love is discovered, Ijeoma learns that she will have to hide this part of herself. But there is a cost to living inside a lie.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic

[maddiviner]

Could studyblogging jumpstart your personal grimoire?

A witch should be a lifelong learner. To practice effective magic, you must grow in new directions at a constant pace. A witch should approach magic with a sense of devotion to their own growth.

I’ve practiced magic and divination for two decades now. The most solid advice I can give? Start journaling. Start keeping a notebook. Start studying.

Witches who keep a notebook record their research and ideas about the Craft. This helps them build a wide repository of knowledge, right there when they need it.

The format and content of my notebooks changed a lot over the years. But they all helped me become the witch I am today. I devoted the bulk of these notebooks to my journey in magic, techniques to try, and lessons learned.

There are few people who haven’t studied. In school, we pore over geometry and classic literature in hot pursuit of elusive high marks. We spent time learning about our interests. Whether that’s witchcraft, philosophy, or astronomy, notes are helpful.

Everyone learns in a different fashion. Still, studying and learning about the world remains with us from our first breath, to the last. My Craft took leaps forward when this dawned on me. I’d always enjoyed school. I realized that I could apply the same study techniques to witchcraft and the occult. 

What’s studyblogging?!

As a regular user of both Tumblr and Instagram, I soon came across the studyblogging trend. 

Caitlyn Tiffany of The Verge describes the studyblogging phenomenon as “a beautiful, stressful wonderland.” An apt description! But what is a studyblog? 

Studyblogging hashtags like #studyblr and #studygram  are popular (on Tumblr and Instagram, respectively).  

For someone just coming across the phenomenon, though? It can be difficult to penetrate this strange world. Expect calligraphic chaos, a plethora of highlighters, and fine-tuned aesthetics. 

Studyblogging focuses on the quest for knowledge. In practice, studyblogs share tips and handwritten notes on various subjects. Studybloggers encourage each other to be the best learners they can be. 

The photos of notes, assignments, and other tasks make up the bulk of the phenomenon. Studyblogs often feature photos of elaborate calligraphy and heavy illustration in note form.

Expect to see self-made diagrams of mitochondria. Essay outlines on postcolonial theory with nigh-perfect bubble lettering. Vast, illustrated mind-maps of Shakespearean themes. It's a big community, and there's room for a lot. Room for witches? I think so!

Studyblogging for Witches

In witchcraft, our grimoires function much like a non-magical student's study notes. The content, and some of the form, may differ, but the principles are the same.

The quest for an aesthetically-pleasing grimoire stymies many a beginner (and not-so-beginner) witch. The wise remind us that our grimoires needn’t be complex. Functionality is more important than aesthetics in most cases. 

That said, there is something worthwhile about keeping a grimoire that suits you. A  grimoire can speak to your soul, both by way of aesthetic appeal and your own abilities. For some of us, this might mean a lavishly-illustrated tome. Others might find minimalist styles more resonating. It varies.

The truth is that yes, your grimoire needn’t look a certain way or be perfect. Still, a level of aesthetic appeal can help with information retention. It can also boost your magical productivity. Humans respond in an intuitive fashion to that which they consider beautiful.

Aesthetics can help to put you into a liminal state. Liminality can be a powerful tool in self-improvement. This, in turn, is useful not only for normal studying, but also for the Craft itself. 

If you see art as part of your life path, you might find that approaching your grimoire as a work of art helpful. Part of this means realizing that it won’t be perfect, but also always striving to learn and grow.

Studyblogging, as a community, showcases a lot of excellent notebook and journal-keeping techniques. Studybloggers often provide tutorials and guides to effective learning methods. 

This is, of course, all while celebrating the joy of learning itself. Traditional studying methods can apply to magical topics. I have found that the techniques of the studyblogger can help with keeping a useful grimoire.

Ask your intuition if studyblogging is right for you!

Will studyblogging help you? For some students, lurking or keeping a studyblog inspires and motivates them. It also increases accountability. By posting their goals and progress, studybloggers have an impetus to progress. 

In a way, it’s a bit like livestreaming a video game - it makes the experience more challenging, and also more exciting. The difference, of course, is that, in this case, your game is learning!

And the notes? Many find the calligraphy, fancy scripts, and illustration soothing. It can be a way of making otherwise impenetrable subjects more captivating.

Without a doubt, aesthetic presentation improves information retention for some people. Humans have a positive response to beautiful imagery. 

Some folks find the gorgeous landscape of studygram and studyblr overwhelming and anxiety-inducing. Gorgeous calligraphy notes, after all, aren't easy for most people. 

For some, posting about your studies on a blog might only increase worry. We're all different, and studyblog techniques are hardly universal in form.

You should use your intuition to decide whether to dip into this community. Ask yourself whether an audience will help your quest for deeper knowledge. 

Will you feel empowered, or nervous about it? If you struggle with comparing yourself to others, you might find studyblogging discouraging. 

I myself am somewhat of a perfectionist. For me, though, the artistic aspects of note taking and information illustration soothe me. Studyblogging suits me, but will it help you?

You should tailor your learning experience to your own strengths. If that means studyblogging won’t help you, be honest with yourself and don’t chase the anxiety of it all. Find another method of learning. 

Browse some existing studyblogs - I recommend EmmaStudies and StudyQuill. Ask yourself how it makes you feel. Do the images and writing seems inspirational? 

Would you enjoy sharing your work with the world? Studyblogging might become an ally on your magical path!

Taking the Plunge

So, how do you start a studyblog? How do you get involved in the community?

The most popular studyblogging platforms are Instagram and Tumblr. Instagram lends itself to posting tons of pictures and very short-form posts. Tumblr favors longer prose. 

When I started studyblogging, I created both a studyblr and a studygram. I recommend starting a new account on the site of your preference for studyblogging.  

Follow some existing studybloggers as a way of introducing yourself to the community! Also, follow the hashtags #studyblr and #studygram, to start.

What to study?

Studyblogging features students focused on all kinds of topics. I’ve been studyblogging for over a year. In case you’re wondering, it's rare for someone to complain about my witchy take on studyblogging. 

You’ll find the studyblogging community very welcoming in most cases. But what will you study? I always recommend witches focus on only one or two things they’d most like to learn at a time.

Studyblogging lends itself well to in-depth topical research. This can mean learning the signs and language of astrology or the basics of gemstone magic.

Topics like shadow work or personal Tarot readings might be a bit too personal to blog about. Those might be better suited to normal, private journaling rather than a blog. My own studyblogging tends to focus on my writing preparation, astrology, and Tarot. 

Though I’ve been reading for over twenty years, there is always something new to learn about Tarot. Astrology, like Tarot, is a lifelong discipline. Though I’ve only recently made my first steps into it, there is much to learn. My writing, especially the book I’m working on, has its own notebook.

Possible topics include, but are in no way limited to:

Crystals and gemstones

Astrology

Spellcraft

Mythology and legends

Magical history

Energy work techniques

Seasonal and Lunar cycles

Herbology

Tarot, Lenormand, or oracle deck divination!

It is important to choose topics that interest you in a personal way. At the same time, try not to get distracted. Witchcraft includes many paths of study. Try not to jump from topic to topic - finish what you start!

Supplies

If you’re in school, you may already have a lot of the tools necessary for studying. If not, you can get them for an affordable price in most cases.

Paper matters!  You'll want a notebook or loose leaf binder paper. For hardbound notebooks, you can’t go wrong with a Leuchtturm 1917.  That popular notebook boasts dot grid paper, includes page numbers and a place for an index. 

Seeking something more aesthetic? Check out the Paperblanks series from Peter Pauper Press. You might also like the notebooks you can order from Citrus Bookbindery. For me, a binder (I use A5 size) works best, because I can add and remove pages as necessary. 

You can find some great guides out there about organizing grimoires. Much of that advice applies here. Your notebooks will soon fill the role of a grimoire.  They will contain your notes, research, and more.

It is usually best to have one notebook (or binder) for each subject you’re studying. As you move forward, you’ll have a collection of grimoire notebooks on different topics.

You’ll also need pens or pencils. Really, you only need one. If you feel like getting fancy, you can get multicolored fineliners. I prefer Sakura Micron pens. They use waterproof micropigments that don't bleed when you highlight over your writing.

Highlighters are fun! These add color to your notes and help emphasize the important things. If you want nice highlighters, I recommend Mildliners. Any highlighters will do, though - choose colors that appeal to you. I recommend several different colors, because that allows you to color-code your notes.

Plan!

Plan out, at least in a rough fashion, how you’d like to organize your  notes. This can be rather freeform, or complex, depending on your preference. 

When I began my astrology journey, I knew what sections I would include in my stars grimoire. I also created a rough map of the path I’d take in my research. 

I began with the simple Zodiac signs. I then moved forward through the planets, houses, aspects and transits. My organization, loose though it was, benefited from my use of a binder which allowed me to add and remove pages. 

No matter the notebook, it is important to have, somewhere, a rough idea of where you’re going.

You will also find it important to set attainable, realistic, and measurable goals. For me, this was things like memorizing the astrological house system. I set the goal of reading my astrology textbooks completely and summarizing them. This kind of goal leads to personal accountability.

I also created a set of astrological flashcards for my Tarot-related work. It can be motivational to post your goals on your studyblog in some form. Then, you can provide your followers with regular updates on your progress.

Start posting!

Once you feel ready, go ahead and introduce yourself to the studyblogging community! An introductory post, explaining who you are, your goals, and methods, will help others get to know you. 

I recommend tagging your posts with studyblogging hashtags (mentioned above). Also include some witchcraft-related tags! This will help you connect with other witches who might be helpful on your journey.

Don’t be shy when it comes to posting photographs (taken with a phone or other camera) of your notes! You might not feel that your notes are as neat or pretty as other bloggers. Regardless, they’re unique and might resonate with others!

If you’re taking notes about a very personal topic, like shadow work, you might want to forgo the pictures. Some bloggers obfuscate or blur potentially sensitive parts of their notes. You’ll likely find nothing but encouragement for sharing your research topics, though!

Some studybloggers will also photograph their study space. Some of us even use photos of fun things like their breakfast or pets to illustrate their updates. If pictures don’t suit you, post regular bits about your life and your progress towards your goals. 

Get to know other bloggers! This is important, whether they’re witches or from the studyblogging community. Both can be helpful! 

Watch or read some of the tutorials you’ll find in the studyblogging community. These focus on things like calligraphy, organization, and memory techniques. 

While your notes needn’t have fancy headings, calligraphy can be fun to learn. I don’t currently use calligraphy in my notes, but am learning it on the side, so to speak. 

I find it relaxing, and you might enjoy it too. If not, don't feel bad - not everyone uses fancy handwriting, and that's okay!

Moving Forward

If, after a few weeks, you find yourself really vibing with studyblogging, stick with it! Most witches would agree that there’s no real wrong way to be a witch. To me, though, there are wrong (and right) ways for you yourself to learn and grow in your craft. 

You need to find what works for you, what adheres to your soul and keeps you connected. If studyblogging ends up helping you, and I hope it will, keep going! 

After a while you might find yourself ready to move onto another topic. We all end up “graduating” forward onto other subjects. You’ll quickly find that your grimoires will be an invaluable record. 

They will contain not just your gathered information, but also your intuition, insight, and more. Cherish your notebooks - they will come to reflect your essence!

[cesca-untoldstories]

I am trying to start an oc blog do you have any advice for getting more interaction?

Hi Hi! ^^ I think I'm not the best at giving advice since my blog is very messy and I still need to do a lot of the points I'm going to write but it's always good to write them down to know where to go or what's missing about it!

Specify well that you are an OC blog: that means, you need to have a Directory where third parties can easily locate things about you (Description of Mun, that is you, your rules! It is very important that you write your detailed rules, contact networks, what things you allow and that you do not allow, etc)

Who is your OC?: a reference sheet written with possible images, drawings or picrew of your characters. where are they set, for example in Jojos, what arc? Their ages? their fears? its virtues? Its powers? The more information, the more possible plot developments for roleplay (in case you want) or asks you will have. for example this one

Don't be afraid of not getting attention right away: Recently made blogs don't always get attention right away, as these are things you have to develop over time. submit stories. gradually publishing things that you think, that you change, relationships with canonical characters. How do you see your character in the story?

ORDER YOUR TAGS!: have original Tags with which you can say "if you want to know more about this here I leave the tag where I talk specifically about this topic!" It helps to organize yourself more between posts because of course when you have 10 posts it is easy to search but when you already have 2000 going back to the beginning where you previously talked about something that you will now talk about is somewhat tedious.

HAVE FUN WITH YOUR CREATIONS: The more you publish of your stories, of ideas that have crossed your mind tagging everything concerning Jojos, you will open up a range of possibilities. try not to stay in the monotony, Jojos is known for having bizarre stories. order your bizarre stories make AUs! talk about headcanons! It is your house and you know how to order it and what to post and not. be self-critical with your creations, we all have trials and errors, Francesca for me is not what she started being years ago... she has had changes for better and for worse, I have added many new things over time, but that does not stop her be the essence of character. try to stick to an idea and from there study it from everywhere...for example in my case, I think I am recognized for "wanting to fill in the araki forgots" explaining them with my stories. How did passione get where it is? my ocs. Why did Jotaro disappear from such date to such date? my ocs. why did the speedwagon foundation do this right now if no one called them? my ocs. we have so many possibilities to grab hold of thanks to the great window that araki has left us that you can always start studying a case that seems quite interesting to you.

Don't be afraid to interact with other OC blogs: by reading their rules and stories we all have in mind the art of "give and recieve" if you are interesting in another people's stories not necessary need to be your canon but all ocs are precious in their way. interact with people without been afraid of "been a bother". the more you submit about your ocs as simple facts or a complete wikipedia madness of information try always to read other ocs info, asks and share cheerful moments! remember that this is not a obligatory subject at school you need to pass in a certain time, this is built with patience and love for your stories!

I think I give the best tips I could think of and sorry for my bad english! remember you can always do a signal boost by telling that you are a oc blog in a post willing to interact with other ocs and please to reblog it. helps so much! hope it helped!

[honeygingergemini]

Now I'm thirsty for your writing! Can you write one where reader or steve wants to make a sex tape? Thank you😘😘

Hello my dear :) Thank you for being patient with me. I had writers block and just thought everything I was writing sucked so I kept deleting it and starting over. I hope you like it @donutloverxo

p.s. I was today years old when I found out tumblr doesn’t send you a notification when someone answers your ask (I’ve only ever asked on anon bc my main blog is something different so let me know if I am wrong lol) I tagged you just incase <3 IGNORE TYPOS :)

pairing: Steve rogers x fem!reader 

word count: 2.4k 

warnings: camera sex, dirty talk, oral male receiving mentions of face fucking (light), unprotected sex, cream pies and descriptions of it, light spanking, and praise kink for stevie :) 

On Camera

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. My heart is racing and we haven’t even done anything but set up the camera. We’ve only been dating for five months and four days, so imagine the graveling I had to do to get America’s golden boy to agree to fuck me on camera. I begged Steve for so long and now I'm the shy one. We’re supposed to be making a sex tape yet we are on opposite ends of the bed. 

Steve’s bare back is against the headboard while his long legs are spread out before him. He keeps looking everywhere but the camera. His eyes bounce from the walls to the sofa in the corner of the room but once he looks at me, he looks at the camera and he retreats further into his shell. His hand keeps running over his shorts and now I'm starting to feel bad. 

He agreed to this for me but I know he’s nervous. Maybe he doesn’t want to actually do this? Maybe I don’t want to do this? 

Nothing will happen if I get up and turn the camera off now, nothing will happen except me being deathly embarrassed. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I know I want this, I thought about it for a long time before and after bringing it up to Steve. It was my bright idea and now I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs like a dummy. 

You’ve had sex with Steve countless times, this is no different don’t let the camera scare you. Just relax, he’s your boyfriend, the one you’ve slept with numerous times. Just kiss him. 

I take a deep breath looking at Steve whose skin is slightly flushed. I lean over to his side of the bed and reach for him taking in his warmth. His skin is damp with a light coating of sweat. Steve’s eyes shoot over to mine with the unexpected contact. 

���Hi.” I smile at Steve hoping to relax him. As well as myself. 

“Hi.” He looks at me but then quickly looks at the camera. I follow suit doing the same.

We need a distraction from the boxed recording device. I lean over more to capture Steve’s lips in a demure kiss. I kiss him slowly trying to memorize every detail of his mouth. My tongue rolls over his teeth before dipping further into his mouth pulling a deep groan from him, but after his groan he tense and pulls away. 

“You okay?” I ask. 

“Yeah... i’m still not...” comfortable. he didn’t have to say it for me to know what he meant. I lift my body over his straddling him as I trace my fingers over his body knowing the simple act calms him. It works because this time Steve initiates the kiss. It’s more firm than the last but pleasing just the same. Our tongues waltz in a sinful manner pulling soft calls from me. Forced breaths exit my nostrils as I grind my hips slowly into his. His large hands grip my hips and he pulls me down harder. 

“Uh Steve.” I moan out. “More please.” He’s now attacking my neck leaving open mouth kisses across my jugular. His hips push up to meet mine once then twice then it’s a repeated action that leaves me breathless. 

His eyes snap open to meet mine but instead they meet the camera and his arms drop to his side. Deep sighs are released from the both of us 

“I’m sorry princess... I'm just trying to get used to this.” I know he’s turned on right now. I can feel how turned on he is. 

“Do you want to stop?” He looks at me but doesn’t answer. I peck his lips quickly before removing myself from his thighs. My fingers are at the rim of his shorts very close to pulling them down before Steve sits up to stop me. 

“What are you doing?” it comes out mumbled together almost as one complete word. 

“Let me help you relax.'' I push his chest back down softly and continue my plan. I pull his shorts down just enough to free his erection. It bounces back and hits Steve's stomach. I take him into my hands and slowly stroke him. I bend over Steve's thigh  arching my back while bringing my spit slick lips to his tip and leave a wet kiss. Steve shudders whispering profanity under his breath. My tongue joins the fun, slipping out to run around the tip in slow semi circles. I continue my teasing until Steve's hips jut forward and his hand is on the base of my neck. 

“Suck it right.” He grunts voice hoarse “Stop playing with me.” 

“Yes sir.” The last words I say before I take him fully into my mouth. I push down until my nose is met by the coarse curls of his base. One of my hands grip Steve’s thigh while the other is holding on to the side of his abdomen subconsciously giving the camera a perfect view. Steve's grip on my neck is unwavering; he's holding my head down. 

“Fuck... breathe through your nose doll.” He grunts with a rasp I’ve never heard from him before. I take in sloppy breaths trying to calm down. “You gonna let me fuck your face? hmm princess?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer; he begins pushing his hips up into me slowly speeding up with each thrust until he’s assaulting the back of my throat. The action pulls strangled noises from me. My sounds only serve as encouragement for Steve. I think he’s completely forgotten about the camera. 

Steve juts his hips in a way that knocks the wind out of me. I gag around him getting a deep groan in return. 

“F-fuck princess.” His hand finds your ass with conviction. Steve suddenly becomes fixated on your bottom. His burly hands run from your ass and down your thighs repeatedly. I wiggle my lower half as a silent plea for him to spank you again and he complies. 

“You like it when Captain spanks you?” Slap. “You like the pain?” Slap. “I asked you something, doll.” you were presented with two slaps this time. I nod ferociously around Steve’s cock. The super soldier rubs the area he’s abused before dipping his fingers into your core. 

“Shit princess.” he continues toying around with your pussy. He pulls your head from his dick not wanting to end his fun prematurely. His tongue meets yours in a grimy kiss. “I can’t wait to watch that back.” Steve mumbles around your lips as you simultaneously squeeze the finger within you. 

“Oh? You like that?” Steve adds his middle finger to his index and presses into your warm sex deeply. I cry out enjoying the sweet burn of Steve’s fingers. “You like the thought of me watching this while i’m away?” 

You absolutely loved the thought of Steve watching you pleasure him when he’s away. An image of Steve hunched over dick in hand pumping himself into oblivion leaves you dripping. 

“Take your dress off.” Steve demands his voice carrying power. I begin stripping myself for him when he quickly stops me. “Nuh uh, not for me, for the camera.”

I turn to the camera as a shiver runs down my spine. My slip dress easily falls off my body leaving me with only black lace panties as covering. Not that I want to be covered in this moment. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve’s thickset hands wrap around me from behind covering my breast giving them a pleasure filled squeeze. “Such a pretty sight.” Steve brings his body to mold into mine from behind. His left hand trails it’s way down back to my clothed opening. 

“Can i touch you?” I nod yes at Steve's ridiculous question. Why would you ever deny him? Your response must be good enough because he’s pressing down over the fabric just the way you like. It doesn’t take long for his self restraint to be overcome and he’s dipping his fingers under your panties. He dips into your liquid arousal and coats your sex with it.

“You’re dripping princess.” He shudders to himself. He says it every time you two are intimate but you never get tired of hearing it. “So wet.” 

“Always for you.” My words flow out breathlessly “Only for you.” You’re unsure of when steve removed his shorts but he’s aligning himself with your entrance. He’s bare. There’s no protective barrier between the two of you. He’s never done this before. You’ve never done this before. His tip is barely grazing your lips, Steve surprises you. 

“Are you okay with this?” He asks for your permission and of course you accept. How could you turn down your favorite super soldier? So now you’re face down into the mattress dripping at the idea of getting to feel your Steve in a new way. A more personal way. Steve pushes into you slowly, only his tip. An exasperated moan leaves you as your suspicion is confirmed. You feel every detail of Steve's mushroom tip. Your vice like grip cups him into your squelching center holding him there. You absentmindedly hear Steve express his approval of the pleasure your body is providing him. Steve pulls out his tip just as slow as he entered. A suctioning click echos in the room showing just how wet you are. 

“Fuck.” Steve whispers “You feel like a dream doll.” 

He hasn’t fully delved into your sweetness and he’s on cloud nine. Not wanting to waste anymore time Steve dips into your bottoming out quickly and stays there. Labored breaths from both of you fill the room. It feels like Steve sits there forever unwavering. He takes in every detail of your squishy walls as you commit every vein, dip, and curve of Steve’s dick to memory. 

“Stevie baby,” You can barely breathe but you need him to move. “Move… please… for me.” 

Steve takes in one deep breath before he’s pounding into with great intensity. He doesn’t work your way up to his speed. He just slams into you, repeatedly. Hips clashing into your ass causing a jiggle that Steve adores. His hands strike your bottom giving added stimulation you didn’t know you needed. Steve pulls your head off of the bed bringing your body to lay flush against his. He dips his hips just a little bit lower and his tip sweeps the sweet spot located deep in your center only he can reach. You choke out a cry, his name being the only thing on your mind. Your cries encourage him to duplicate the action. 

“It feel good, doll?” You nod so fast you feel the contents of your mind scramble. 

“Say it, tell the camera how much you like it.” Steve turns your head to the recording device in front of you. Something you forgot was even present in the room with you. “Tell the camera” With each word his body collides with yours making sure you feel him as well as his words deep. “ Tell ‘em how much you like Captain stretching this pussy out.” 

“Tell them.” Steve’s stern grunts are accompanied by passionate strikes to your outer thigh. 

“Captain…” You whine, The pleasure is starting to feel overwhelming. “You feel so good, so different.” You want to catch your breath but you always want to please Steve. Captain has a praise kink. 

“I can feel all of you.” You reach behind yourself to cup Steve's head. “It’s so deep.” You sigh when his fingers find your clit. The tingle of your orgasm begins at your toes and travels up your body. You’re so close. 

“You’re the only one that can make me feel this way.” Steve grunts in approval of your expression pressing harder into your clit. He likes control but only because you give it to him so when you praise him, he feels like he’s on fire. 

“I love when you touch me like that.” Another grunt from Steve. I teeter close to saying something important, something so permanent that once I say it, it can't be taken back. Steve’s chest puffs with need. A need for you to express the feeling you both have swirling within your chest growing with each passing day. A small smack is applied to your clit before Steve flips you over so you’re on your back. 

“Tell me what I want to hear.” His voice is as rough as his pace. You don’t respond. It’s only been a couple months. Way Too soon to say it. 

“Don’t wanna say it?” Steve is plowing into making sure no air is left in your lungs. “But I thought I was doing so good?” His thrusts are unabated. 

“Thought I was the only one that could make you feel this way? hmm? Thought only I could make you feel good?” Long drawn out moans escape you. One right after the other each one more melodic than the last. 

“Be my good little baby and say it.” His thumb flicks around your bundle of nerves with sharp short strokes. “Say it princess.” 

“I love you.” You think you say it. You hope you say it. You’re unsure, your words are completely slurred and your mind is only filled with white noise. Your body is levitating as your orgasm washes over you. You’re feeling everything all at once. Steve doesn’t stop. He doesn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. 

“I know you do baby,” Steve chuckles, pleased with his work. “I love you so much more.” Each word is followed by a sweet kiss. Too sweet for what’s taking place. Your understanding of time becomes weary but soon enough Steve meets you at the peak. 

“F-Fuucck doll.” His body tenses as he releases deep inside you. “Fuck.” Once he collects himself he’s off of you. You whine at the loss of heat from the super soldier. You didn’t realize it but Steve has grabbed the camera bringing its focus to your filled cunt. 

“You look so pretty like this doll.” His finger dip into your overstimulated sex. He pushes the proof of his orgasm around before pulling some of it out to spread it across your lower lips. 

You lay still trying, trying to breathe, trying to not pass out, trying to not look as fucked out as you feel. You hear steve mention how this was fun in the background but you don’t have the strength to respond. Soft kisses to your inner thighs, stomach, then lips lull you further into your euphoric state. 

“You okay?” 

“Mmhmm i’m perfect.” You sling a leg over the super soldier.  “So you love me?” Steve’s soft chuckle is the last thing you grasp before falling into much needed slumber. 

[wakaoujisenhime]

Hi! Can I ask scenario about Rakuzan manager? Rakuzan (and Akashi) female fans attacked her, but Rakuzan team protect her.

A/N: I’m writing this while imagining Rakuzan’s fans to be those typical hardcore ones you sometimes see on SNS, and oh boy... (☉_☉) Also, I hope you don’t mind that I changed the concept of attacking the manager a little bit and made it go into the direction of bullying. 👀  Now, I know that Mayuzumi isn’t really visible in the image below, but this was the only one I found that fit the description of them looking intimidating, so sorry for that (っ◞‸◟c) hope you enjoy it nonetheless! ♡  

Tags: Rakuzan x reader ✅  SFW ✅  friendship/camaraderie ✅  slight fluff ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

A capable manager - Rakuzan x reader

Being Rakuzan’s manager wasn’t an easy task. Not only were you burdened with the team’s immense success and reputation, but also with five problematic personalities who also happened to be the club’s representatives.

It took you quite some time and effort to get to know them, and have them trust you enough with their personal training regimen, let alone their private affairs and problems. However, you still managed to overcome all these difficulties and became quite close with the five young basketball players. The more you interacted with them, the more you realized just how helpful and pleasant their company actually was, especially Akashi’s.

He was quite notorious for his perfectionism and for the way he treated his teammates. In the beginning, you were also treated as one of his minions. Still, after you spoke up about how he might lose the entire team if he continued behaving like that, Akashi luckily listened to you and decided to pick a new approach. You expected him to change himself, but instead, he went ahead and recruited people who were actually able to keep up with his antics. It frustrated you a little to see just how incorrigible he was, but the fact that the captain was sticking to his ideals impressed you quite a bit.

The team respected you very much. You had joined them the moment you enrolled in Rakuzan high and always made sure to give it your all, no matter what. Naturally, you made the members and their wellbeing your first priority, so whenever someone decided to disrupt the harmony of the team, you were always the one to protect and upkeep it. This was one amongst many other reasons the club members adored and looked up to you. It was really fortunate that you had earned such a status, it made many tasks less difficult to fulfill since you knew these boys on a personal level, but not every problem was that easily overcome.

Rakuzan’s fans were one example.

They would always cheer while the entire squad entered the gym and went to the benches to discuss the plan for the game, but you couldn’t help and overhear some comments that were addressed to you.

Is that their manager?

Yeah supposedly...

What the hell, she doesn’t even look like she knows what this sport is about!

Totally! Just look at her!

You’d try and ignore them as good as you could, but the fact that your back was literally facing the stands didn’t help out at all.

“(Y/N)-chan, is everything alright?“

Reo always had a knack of noticing when something was bothering you, and he’d always make sure to ask you about it so that he could figure out a way to help you out somehow. You appreciated the gesture, of course, but what you wanted to avoid the most right now was distracting them from the upcoming match, so you brushed it off, put on your typical fake smile, and nodded firmly.

“Yes, no problems here!”

Luckily he knew that one of the things you hated most was when people pestered you about something you didn’t want to talk about, there were times when you welcomed it, but now wasn’t one of them. Pushing your slightly hurt feelings aside, you gave the five players a quick rundown on their enemies’ playstyle and preferred modus operandi.

While they were out there scoring one point after the other, your concentration was disturbed multiple times by the permanent gossiping of the fans, who had now moved on to questioning your strategic abilities, claiming that some of the boys weren’t in their top form today and who was to blame for this? You, of course. In an attempt to block their constant chatter out, you closed your eyes for a moment. The coach, who noticed your short moment of frustration, asked you the same question as your black-haired friend, and the moment you opened your mouth to answer with the exact same words as before, something light hit your shoulderblade, startling the both of you in the process.

“Oops, sorry, my friend pushed me, I didn’t mean to throw that at you!“

Another forced smile and a slight shake of your head were your answer to the obviously fake-sounding ‘apology’ you’d just received. With a disappointed and slightly annoyed face, Shirogane picked the paper ball up from the ground and looked at it with disgust.

“(Y/N)...maybe we shoul-“

“It’s ok coach, I’m fine so please don’t mind this.“, you said as you bit your lower lip in frustration, “Let us continue observing the match...and please don’t mention this to the others...them not playing at their full concentration because of something as trivial as this, is the last thing I want right now.“

His dark eyes rested on you for a short while, but he soon averted them and continued watching the young men play. So did you, but what just happened still lingered in your mind.

It was quite frustrating to see that some people let their jealousy distort them to such an extent that they would start harassing you just because of your position, gender, or whatever other reason they might have. All they saw was the way you entered the gym alongside the boys, talked to them, gave them drinks and towels, and that’s when they start to think that this is all you do. You were quite disheartened that people with such limited views on things were supposed to represent your clubs’ fanbase, but that’s just how things were.

While you were lost in your thoughts, your teammates were out on the field completely dominating the game (as always), but some of them had noticed what went down a short while ago, and they didn’t like that at all.

The halftime whistle is what brought you back to reality. Typically, it was you who provided the players with drinks and towels, but this time the coach had assigned this minor task to one of the underclassmen. He thought that he might help you out with it, but he only made all of it worse.

Oh my god, do you see that?

She calls herself the manager, but can’t even do her tasks right.

Pathetic, ‘ain it?

Just as you were about to sit up and speak your mind, someone placed a towel on top of your head and patted it. You didn’t feel the need to look up, since such a massive palm could’ve only belonged to one particular player. Instead, you just looked at the ones that had surrounded you. 

“Alright then, what’s your next brilliant plan manager?“ asked Kotaro with his typically loud voice. 

The others joined him and began talking about different and pretty much trivial stuff they usually avoided, making it plainly evident that their main objective was to distract you from the spiteful comments of the spectators.

You had to admit that the kind words they occasionally mixed in were indeed making you feel better, and after a while, you had succeeded in forgetting about it for the time being...you had a team to manage after all.

After a short while, the referee announced that the game would resume shortly and warned both teams to wrap the talk up. With an encouraging smile, you motivated each of them to keep up the marvelous play, have fun but also be cautious of possible tricks from the opponents. When Akashi’s turn came up, you simply smiled at him, unsure whether to try your luck with motivating this seemingly invincible player or not, but before that happened, he spoke up first.

“(Y/N) I know what happened.” 

His statement threw you off quite a bit, but there was no time for you to question its meaning since the time to get back on the field drew near.

“I know it’s frustrating and painful to hear something like that, but you shouldn’t mind such useless comments from commoners like them. You should ask yourself on which basis they are actually making all of these assumptions about you. Do they know how much effort you’re actually putting into our team? Have they seen just how late you always stay behind just to make sure that everyone leaves? Are they aware of the amount of knowledge you needed to obtain before you could even give us tips on how to play? The answer is always no, so make sure to keep that in mind.”

“Sei-chan, it’s time.“, whispered Reo as he gently caressed your back, flashed you a quick smile, and entered the court. Said man barely nodded and placed his own slender hand reassuringly on your left shoulder.

“You’re doing a perfect job as manager (Y/N)...thank you.“

And with that, he left you standing there, blushing lightly at his sudden and unexpected compliment. Hearing something so reassuring as that coming from such a capable person like Akashi puts you instantly at ease.

H-He’s right...what am I even doing at a time like this? Doubting myself while my team’s out, there is really not suitable for my title. 

Alright (Y/N)! Get yourself together and watch them play, that’s the least you could do at the moment.

While you were hyping yourself up, you failed to notice a peculiar group amongst the other spectators that were looking at you with malicious intent...

——

After the game finished, you congratulated your five boys for the expected victory and promised to wait for them at the main entrance, so that you could invite them to a small celebratory meal.

You checked your phone for any possible missed calls or messages when suddenly someone slapped it away from your hand.

“What the hell w-“

“Shut up, you damn witch!“

As you looked at the group of girls standing in front of you, you frowned, wondering just who they actually were and what kind of problem they had with you that they needed to throw insults at you as well as damage one of your most valuable possessions. Upon closer look, you noticed that they wore some kind of fanmade shirts which had Akashi’s face plastered all over them.

So these are his fangirls..?

One of them stepped up to you and grabbed your jersey’s collar, almost scratching your neck with her absurdly long fake nails.

“We are very busy women, so make sure to listen up, missy?”

You scoffed and tried to pull her hand away from you as quickly as you could, and when you finally succeeded, you proceeded to pick your phone up from the ground.

“Hey, are you even listening?“ asked another one whose entire face resembled that of a clown, that’s how much makeup she had randomly put on. 

You stifled your laugh before answering: “No, I’m not really listening to you, since you appear to have quite enough time to come out and trash-talk me, despite being so busy, as you claim.“

The smug grin that adorned your face wasn’t well-received by them, and just as they opened their mouth again, a familiar calm voice called out your name, stopping them in their tracks.

A tall, grey-haired young man approached the group and stood there with his hands in his jacket’s pocket, his eyes entirely focused on you alone, completely disregarding the others.

“So, that’s where you were (Y/N)!”

“We’ve been looking for you manager!“

Two arms wrapped around your shoulder from each side, and as you looked up to see who the owners were, you couldn’t help but smile. 

Kotaro and Nebuya...

“W-What is Sir Akashi’s team doing here?“

“I-I don’t know..“

“Weren’t t-they supposed to be at the aftermatch meeting?“

As if on cue, Reo joined Mayuzumi and flicked his hair back dramatically.

“Oh, sweetie...it seems like you not only have no clue on how to properly put your makeup on, but also have no idea of what we’re doing.”

She was about to retort something, but a certain man’s voice stopped her.

“The manager is an essential part of these meetings.“

You turned your head and saw your team’s captain picking your phone up from the ground. Both arms that rested on your shoulders released you so that Akashi could take the item, the captain was about to hand to you, back. He gave you a warm smile that instantly darkened, the moment he looked at the women who had now been surrounded by his entire basketball team. His eyes looked at each and every single one of them, and he quickly caught up that they were his fans.

Well...isn’t that convenient.

With a firm nod of his head, he signalized the other four to leave; you, on the other hand, stayed behind. If there was something you knew about this young man, then the fact that he’d always speak to you if he needed something.

“S-Sir Akashi! It’s such an honor to personally meet you!“

“We’ve been your fans for so long an-“

“Silence.“ he hissed. That cold demeanor was something his ‘fans’ had no idea existed, but you as the manager had known about it since day one. He took another look at all of them and sighed.

“Listen up. I don’t care if you are my fans or not, I couldn’t care less that you’re cheering me on or if you’re working multiple jobs so that you can afford tickets for all of my games. I have no need for such useless gestures...what I need is results: clear, flawless, and indisputable results. People like you cannot give me that, but this woman right here..“ he took a short break to point at you “..she can, and she does. If you have any problem with the fact that she has earned this position by hard work, pure dedication, and conviction, then that means that you also have a problem with Rakuzan’s success so far. How else do you think are we able to be that victorious? Don’t tell me you thought that it all depended on talent?“

All of them just cluelessly looked at each other, trying to figure the answer out, but before they could even begin thinking about it, Akashi just continued with his speech.

“There is indeed a part of basketball where you just have to rely on talent alone, but it’s mostly strategy and the team’s combined power. And how do you think are we able to achieve that without a capable manager like her?“

They were left completely speechless, and without even waiting for their answer, the young man just gently took you by the wrist and began walking away. You couldn’t deny the fact that your situation was very much the same as theirs, you were confused yet impressed by the way he had stood up for you, he even went as far as to insult his own fans. The happiness you felt at that moment was a little inappropriate, but considering the hassling you went through today, it was a good payback.

And like that, the two of you joined the other four and began walking toward the restaurant, where you promised to celebrate their victory at today’s match.

[bettsfic]

march pinned: ending the sex project

in the march edition of my lowkey writing-related newsletter, in addition to my writing-related post roundup and upcoming consultation availability, i have personal essay recommendations and a segment on the definition of a project!

for more information on my creative coaching services, check out my carrd.

if you want to receive my lowkey writing-related newsletter directly, you can subscribe here.

full newsletter below the cut, or you can read it here.

fuck february, amiright?

i thought january was bad. but february. february was the stuff of nightmares. my cousin passed away from covid (you can read about her here; she was really an amazing person and i feel so lucky to have known her). i was finally formally diagnosed with PCOS (bittersweet, i guess). my car broke down. i took two (2) days off and it took me two and a half weeks to get caught up again. i can only hope march treats us all a little more gently.

the good news is, i finished revisions on my short story collection to send to my agent, finished workshop submissions for the semester, and now i can return to my first love, fanfiction. that i am constantly working through original fiction to return to fanfiction has been making me think a lot about the nature of a creative, capital-p Project. so, this month’s BTALA (been thinkin a lot about) is going to inspect the concept of a “project.”

new resource

last month i unveiled a folder of my favorite short stories which i’m pleased to hear several of you have perused and gotten some inspiration from. this month i’ve compiled my favorite personal essays. there are fewer essays than there are short stories because i’ve broken them into two groups: personal and craft. next month i hope to have the craft essays compiled.

i’m always looking for more things to love, so if you have recommendations for your favorite short stories and essays, i’d be happy to hear them!

writing-related posts

how to physically maneuver the revision process

the difference between M and E ratings of fic

resources for worldbuilding (check out the reblogs for more!)

a couple syntax/prose book recs

how to break a long work into chapters

march availability

unfortunately i have to cut my coaching hours down a bit, so i don’t have any openings left in march, but i have some availability in april. if you’re interested in a writing consultation, please fill out this google form!

you can learn more about my services on my carrd.

what i’m into rn

for the past year, i’ve basically been trapped in a 10x10 room, and my health is definitely reflecting that, both mentally (does anyone else feel like they’re living in groundhog day? just, every day being exactly the same except fractionally worse than the day before??) and physically (i reorganized the kitchen and could barely move for two days).

reader, i have discovered something called “walking,” in which i put on real human shoes and go outside. it feels strange, bestial. neighbors wave hello to me. a harrowing experience.

while doing this, this walking, i’ve been listening to the lolita podcast which a friend recommended to me, a ten-episode series that dives into everything lolita: the novel itself, its context, adaptations, greater cultural responses, and — as a sticker on my laptop says — vladimir “russian dreamboat” nabokov. as far as i can tell it seems well-researched and presents the many perspectives of lolita in a fair way. i’m only a few eps in, but i’m entranced so far. highly recommended if you, like me, have a complicated relationship with lolita.

i’ve also found myself mildly addicted to a mobile otome game called obey me, which. look i know it’s like the definition of cringe but it’s also mind-numbingly fun and if i want to spend my minimal free time pretending 7 demon brothers are all vying for my affection then that’s between me and god. it’s a lot of what i loved about WoW: frequent events, bright colors, a daily to do list of simple but satisfying tasks, many many rewards, and it doesn’t take itself very seriously. and if i have 4k fic written of mammon/reader that’s nobody’s business but mine and my longsuffering ao3 subscribers.

i’m telling you this because i don’t know anyone else who plays it and am desperate to trade headcanons. so if you play, or start playing, hit me up!! i will give u mad tips and daily AP.

been thinkin a lot about

the project. the project. even the word “project.” PROject (noun). proJECT (verb). what is the project? “project” comes from the latin pro and jacare which means “to throw forward,” or projectum which means “something prominent.” a projector throws forward an image. to project onto something means to throw your perspective onto something else. to embark on a project is to make something prominent in your life. the concept of “the projects” comes from public housing projects, the government throwing forward affordable housing.

what is the project? in joseph harris’ essay “coming to terms” he says that “to define the project of a writer is…to push beyond his text, to hazard a view about not only what someone has said but also what he was trying to accomplish by saying it.” harris’ perspective is that of an english teacher encouraging his students to read critically, not just to summarize a text but to find its project, its greater purpose. and while i first read this essay in a seminar on composition pedagogy, it stuck with me as a writer. it made me reconsider the greater nature of the creative project.

how many of us, if asked to describe our writing project, would begin with a plot or character premise, the nuts and bolts of a specific story? maybe even the working title? but i wonder, is breaking out the plot really the project? is the discipline of sitting down and typing really the project? and when the story is finished, is the project over? what is the project?

in 2019, i wrote 86k words of a novel. i began revising that novel last fall, and i’m finding that i’ll probably keep maybe less than 10k of that initial draft. i’m not bothered by that. the novel i wrote before that started at 125k, then i rewrote the entire thing to 200k, then i whittled it back down to 160k, and next i’ll be tasked with paring it back down to 80k. i’m not bothered by that either. in the past five years or so i’ve written about 2 million words, and i’ve only published 20k of them. only 1% of what i’ve written, i’ve published. in the words of lauren cooper (catherine tate), i’m not bothered.

i used to see publication as the birth of the project, and writing it akin to a long gestation period. then i saw publication as the death of the project, and its life was lived in its drafting. now, publication seems irrelevant to the project. the confines of a story and its many revisions are also irrelevant to the project. the beginning of a story is not the start of the project and the end of the story is not the end of the project. the project is larger than the story, its revisions, its publication, and its eventual readership.

i think it took me so long to see this because for so many years i was still in my first project, the sex project, an exploration of trauma and sexual identity, which began in 2014 with destiel fanfiction, endured through many fandom shifts, my MFA, years adrift as an adjunct, all the way through 2020 with the completion of my short story collection. i used to wonder how anyone could write about anything other than sex. to me it was the only topic worth my attention. i was certain that i would spend my entire life being a sex writer and i’d never find fulfillment writing a young adult sci fi adventure or a highly literary novel about complicated family dynamics. i was baffled by people who were interested in other things, who could write entire novels without using the word “cock” even once.

then my sex project ended. i don’t know when exactly it happened or why, but suddenly i realized i never wanted to write another artful description of an orgasm or find a tactful euphemism for a vagina ever again (personally i prefer “wet cunt” because not only is it blunt, i find it phonetically pleasing). obviously i’m still writing explicit fanfic but it doesn’t feel the same as it used to. sex feels more sidelined to me, even if it’s still the center and drive of a fic. i no longer get any personal satisfaction from writing it, although i do get satisfaction in sharing the work for readers to enjoy.

it’s like i’ve somehow solved the biggest puzzle of my life. or i guess made peace with my meanest monster, that extremely complicated double-mind of desire that some non-sex-repulsed asexuals feel: you want to feel desire you can’t actually feel so you write it into fiction, to try to understand this thing you can’t have and which society tells you you’re missing, and you don’t even know if you don’t have it, because you still feel desire for affection and intimacy, and maybe even a desire to be desired. and for those of us who are asexual and have c-ptsd, sex you don’t actually want (but don’t know you don’t want, because maybe you’re ambivalent and mildly curious and touch-starved) and an unrelenting drive toward people-pleasing can be a dangerous combination. how can you ever know what consent is if you always put other people’s desires above your own?

maybe i’m alone in this. maybe i’m not. maybe for most people, wanting sex is a light switch: yes i want it, or no i don’t. but for me, i had to write a whole lot of words to figure out things like desire, consent, intimacy, forgiveness, the shape that good love takes. the lengthy theoretical flowchart of “i might be interested in having sex if this and this and this and this and this happens in this exact order and under these exact circumstances.”

it was hard to write something into reality that i have never seen except in pieces, in subtext i clung to with no lexicon to give it shape and meaning. te lawrence in lawrence of arabia. some of tarantino’s early work. the film benny and joon. and weirdly, the star wars prequels (that one’s hard to explain; i’ll spare you). i don’t think the sex project was about coming to terms with my asexuality as much as it was trying to organize my thoughts and feelings by continuously rendering my own experiences within a greater, shinier ideal — like how you sometimes have to unravel the entire skein of yarn to find the loose end, and only then can you get started.

i guess i’m in the infancy of the power project now. i’m moving toward themes of control, infamy, greatness. the exact circumstances in which atrocity occurs. how people rise into leadership and fall from grace. the consequences of success. i don’t know why this project has come to me, or what, if anything, it has to do with me. i’m not famous and have no intention of becoming famous; i don’t have social power or influence, at least not beyond my little corner of fandom, and i’m not interested in having it. and yet, here we are, already hundreds of thousands of words in.

my fics digging for orchids (tgcf) and a standing engagement (the hunger games) deal with the detriments of fame. and even float (breaking bad) to a degree is about the aftermath of being so close to power. my novel cherry pop, loosely based on macbeth, is about an ongoing power exchange between two teenage girls. my other novel, vandal, is about a girl who believes she has magic powers and casts a spell on her neighbor to fall in love with her. and i’m in the very early stages of a novel called groundswell, a cult story i’ve been wanting to write for years. i had no idea why i couldn’t write it until i realized it wasn’t yet my project. i’m not even to the stage of developing characters, let alone a premise or plot. i’m still just building my aesthetic pile (i discuss the aesthetic pile here, as well as vandal in more detail), watching documentaries on cults, reading books, finding inspiration, marking down ideas as they come. it may be years before i’m ready to sit down and write it.

now that i know what the project is, i have more patience with myself. it doesn’t bother me to rewrite a novel from the beginning, or to scrap novels altogether, because the story isn’t the project. the project cannot be diminished by cutting words, sentences, paragraphs, entire chapters. the project does not have a product. the project cannot be published. the project is in the practice, in dragging the impossibly large into clear, acute existence, so you can see it. so you can see the very center of what you thought was an unknowable thing.

[visit-ba-sing-se]

3 things I associate with you are:

always writing really good image descriptions (I have not yet master this skill and reading yours helps me),

reblogging posts with not as many notes and/or beginner arists and giving them just as much enthusiasm and attention to detail as a post with tons of notes,

always tagging with op mastered in trash bending

hey! I am so happy that you think me ids are good, I am really trying (even though I know they are not always perfect). Also, shut out to @atladescribed for really doing the ground work and raising awareness about why image descriptions are important and being the central blog to provide them. And yeah I feel like it is so important to note that little notes do not mean little quality. There are so many artists out there, and it is a shame how tumblr sometimes treats them. On one hand, the algorithm is trash (say it with me kids) and on the other there is the tendency to only hype art from people who are already “established” artists in the fandom. Who make great content, do not get me wrong, I know and love them too. But that does not mean that someone else is out there creating who deserves attention and notes (and everyone who has every created content knows how much energy already one nice comment can give, or how crushing 0 notes can be. we've all been there, don't lie) Also, I am just selfish here to be honest, I see it, I love it, I reblog it and can continue to look at it and just be amazed. (fun tip to find and boost smaller/new artist: filter your search  for “newest” instead of “most popular” and scroll down a bit <3 And if you make art, please know that it will always make my day when you share it with me!) only thing I think was a typo is the trash bending part because that sounds really close to my tag for fan art, which is op mastered in talent bending because all you artists are just so talented damn 

Which three things do you associate with me? 

[minalous]

golden clouds (m)

pairing: yoongi x reader ft hoseok x reader & taehyung x reader

description/warnings: dom!yoongi, sub!reader, sweet yoongi boyfriend, idol!yoongi, yoongi is a daddy dom, mature sexual content, choking, oral (m receiving), rough oral, dirty talk, all of them are drunk except for yoongi (be safe when drinking), vaginal/anal fingering (f receiving), anal (f receiving), unprotected sex, double penetration, the reader is older than hoseok and taehyung (noona kink) || Yoongi only wanted to write a new song but you had more in mind.

genre: smut (pure filth, I am sorry)

words: 3.9k

Music echoes inside the walls of your boyfriend’s studio, Yoongi is working for the next album that he is up to release by the end of this year. You are sitting on his lap while he is creating one of his masterpieces inside his studio, away from everybody with no interruptions. His soft hands touching your warm skin after a long day of him neglecting your needs and he is ever so sweet. 

It is devastating how much you miss him; even when he is right here with you right now, even when he is touching you, even when you can feel his breath on your neck you feel that you miss him. The need to feel him closer to you is bubbling inside you, there is one thing that Yoongi loves and that is when you suck him dry. He loves to feel your sweet mouth around his cock, this is what you will give him right now.

The moment he feels you shuffling on his lap and fall on your knees, he knows. Yoongi smirks at the sight of you like that, obedient, ready to offer him pleasure with no intention of asking anything in return. You are simply his loving and caring kitten. When Yoongi revealed to you he is a Dom, your stomach flipped in excitement. Had he known earlier how much you would enjoy to be treated so roughly in bed, he would have shown his dominant side far earlier.

“The boys will be here in any minute, kitten.” his voice sounds so sexy and husky

“But daddy I want your cock. Please, please?” you pout softly

There is nothing he can do, it’s as if the world stops for the both of you when sex gets involved. You have tried so many different toys and kinks in bed with Yoongi, not once have you felt intimidated or unsafe in his arms. Yoongi’s presence may be overwhelming when he dominates you but he is so caring afterwards that it worth it to go through the new experiences. He is worth it. Yoongi asks you, always asks for your permission beforehand. This is the reason you chose him as your partner, your lover, your dominant.

“What if daddy is not done until they come, kitten?” he asks you tenderly while your hands fall on his zipper

“I don’t know” you haven’t thought about it and it saddens you that there is not enough time

“Look at me kitten” eyes darting towards his way when his fingers caress yours softly “if you are quiet and stay quiet with my cock in your mouth, you can stay with daddy until the boys leave, okay sweetheart?”

You nod so eagerly, your heart almost exploding in the idea of doing something so explicit and naughty in the presence of his friends, your friends. Yoongi helps you unzip his jeans, his cock falling heavy against his clothed stomach. He is so thick, your hand barely able to close around his cock. It would be a lie if you said that girth is not important for a guy’s cock, or the look of it. And Yoongi’s is as beautiful as he is, with pink head matching his beautiful lips, an angry vein that you lick teasingly, eliciting a loud groan from Yoongi. The beauty of this man would be the death of you one day.

“Ding, dong” you hear the bell of his studio ring

“I will let them in baby. Listen to me now. I will throw my jumper on my lap. You stay hidden, kitten. Yes?” the softness in his voice in contrast with the lustful darkness in his eyes sends shivers down your spine

“Yes, daddy”

The footsteps of the boys as they enter the room warn you to be as quiet as you can, the risk to be found is great but the burning fire on your heat is much greater to have you stop. 

“Hyuuung! Yoooongi - hyung” both Hoseok and Taehyung exclaim before falling on the sofa

“Are you guys drunk?” 

“Only a little bit, hyung” Taehyung says 

“We drunk 5 bottles of champagne, but we are not drunk!” Hoseok adds

The drunkenness on their voice reassures you to continue on your task, your tongue playing with the tip of Yoongi’s cock, the small twitch you feel on your tongue on the smallest of lick you give, boosts your confidence on continuing.

“Fuck, kitten. Keep going” Yoongi whispers, his hand patting softly on your head

“Hmm??” you hear Taehyung 

“Sleep Tae” Yoongi hisses “you are both gonna be fucked tomorrow”

Under the safety of his desk, you keep giving him head, him sitting conveniently on his large computer chair. His cock so hot in the palm of your hand, the bittersweet taste of the precum has you rub your thighs together for any short of relief. Yoongi pushes slightly his hips against your mouth to urge you to take him deeper inside and you certainly obey. The thickness of his cock makes you open it wider as much as you possibly can, saliva drooling in the corners of it every time you bop your head, his cock getting further into your mouth. 

Yoongi moves his chair back a little after he checks that the boys are far gone into dreamland, his eyes wandering on your face to take in the wonderful image of you with his cock in your mouth. 

“Your mouth is heaven, kitten” Yoongi growls through gritted teeth 

He is too lost, too fucked up to look into your eyes but you can see him losing himself because of you. His hand rests on your head while he starts moving his hips harder to get himself off in your mouth, pushing you to your limits but you love it too much when he uses your mouth to cum. 

“Take it like a good little slut, kitten” your eyes water the moment the tip of his hard cock hits the back of your neck, your nails digging into his jeans, marking the flesh of his thighs and you feel him flexing under the palm of your hand. Yoongi hisses to the immense pain mixed by the pleasure you’re giving him, nothing can stop him though and he keeps pushing you further until you break from how good he makes you feel as he uses your mouth the way he uses your wet hole. 

“Do you like it when I use your mouth as I do with your tight cunt, kitten?” he says in a low growl 

“Hmm? Do you like it little slut? Ohh - fuck. Yes, like that baby. Such a good little slut” 

His expressions are the hottest thing you have seen, a pained lustful expression because of how much he holds back to not come into your mouth before wrecking you, before marking you as his and filling you up until you can’t take it anymore. 

“Kitten, let’s go upstairs to finish this” 

Yoongi helps you get up carefully but your legs feel numb after so much time on your knees in such small space, your weight falling against the desk. The noise you make has the both of you turn your attention to the sofa and you get terrified when you realise Taehyung and Hoseok are looking at you.

“This is not what you think” Yoongi says calmly

“Your cock is still hard and dangling between your zipper” Taehyung snorts

“Your cock looks super hard. No homo” Hoseok adds

“Yours is much prettier, hyung” Taehyung tells Hoseok and you laugh

“Wow” is all you can say

“You must be really good at sucking, kitten” Hoseok’s words are aimed at you and Yoongi honestly gets frozen on his spot, putting his hard length back into his jeans

“How much did you see?” Yoongi asks, curiosity dripping from his voice

“Pretty much everything. But we are far too drunk, hyung. We won’t remember much tomorrow” which is true. This has happened many times before

“We are sorry about it, noona” both of them seem regretful

Yoongi turns your way with a wicked smile plastered on his lips, his hands travelling on your lower back.

“What do you want me to do for their mischief, kitten?”

“It’s okay, daddy. It’s not their fault they caught us” you tell Yoongi and he turns his attention back to them

“You are lucky she is so good.” the way he drags the words on his throat makes you tremble from arousal “so good”

“Daddy, I am wet. Can we please go upstairs now?” you whisper to his ear

“Yes, kitten.” Yoongi is almost ready to open the door, your hand into his but he stops into his tracks. He furrows his eyebrows and he is looking back and forth to you and your overly drunk friends on the sofa

“Kitten?”

“Yes daddy?”

“Do you remember when you said how much you like the way Hoseok and Taehyung dance on stage?” he asks

“Yes, daddy. I remember” you nod happily

“Do you remember how turned on you were when I was away on the tour and you said you liked Hoseok in the Dior outfit?” you playfully poke his side and look at Tae and Hobi shyly 

“I didn’t know that hyung! Why didn’t you tell me, noona? I would wear it for you” Hoseok almost jumps up enthusiastically 

“What about me? I don’t turn you on, noona?” Taehyung asks in a pout

“You do.. When you were singing pied piper, I kept looking at you” the pink on your cheeks gives away how affected you are from this conversation 

“Does my kitten turn you on?” Yoongi’s lips land on your neck, his firm torso pushing against your back, feeling his warmth on you

“Is this a trick question?” Hoseok asks, dumbfounded

“If you are honest about it, I will reward you” Yoongi’s dominant side is showing and you can tell by the way he protectively wraps his hands around your waist 

“If it’s all about honesty, then yes. I’d fuck her” Hoseok is brutally honest and you blame it on the alcohol

“Taehyung said he had jerked off on her once when we saw her on the jacuzzi with you” Hoseok adds shamefully

“What the fuck Hoseok!” Taehyung slaps the back of Hoseok’s head and he immediately apologises to you

“I didn’t mean to. The image of you popped on my head and it was too late to stop jerking off. I am sorry” he sounds very sincere in his apology but it makes you laugh

“Apology accepted” you send him a smile to reassure him it’s okay now

“What about you show my kitten how much she turns you on?”

The four of you exchange stares mixed of confusion and curiosity. The air around you seems thinner, the heated stares given from the three men surrounding you makes you feel more desirable than ever but you need Yoongi to give you reassurance that everything is okay.

“It can be an early birthday gift for me baby.” Yoongi kisses your forehead and turns off most of the lights inside the studio

“The studio is soundproof but I don’t want anyone to know that we are here” he adds

Yoongi pushes you softly towards the sofa’s direction “They are yours baby. Ask them what you want, tell them where to touch you.”

“You will not touch me?” you pout “I need you, daddy”

“When you are done with them, we will go upstairs, kitten. For now, I will watch you get fucked”

The words spilling from his mouth only serve to set your heat on fire, to make you even more wet. You turn your attention at Hoseok and Taehyung now, their legs spread for your display and it is quite the view, tempting you to sit down on their lap. Hoseok pat his thighs motioning you to choose him between the two of them and you do. You sit on Hoseok’s lap as if you own it. 

“Daddy, can I kiss him?” you ask Yoongi

“There are no limits on what you can do, kitten. If anything makes you feel uncomfortable use your safe word. You remember it?”

“Candle, daddy”

“Good girl, baby” he responds, now sitting on his chair having his eyes glued on you 

“Can I kiss you, daddy?” you ask Hoseok but his attention goes back to Yoongi

“He is asking you, Hobi. Not me” Yoongi points at Hoseok and you can see him pointing at himself as well

“You want to call me daddy?” Hoseok’s voice drops an octave

“Yes, please” your voice drips of honey and it doesn’t take a lot to convince him, your hips rolling over his clothed erection is the best way to have him loosen up

When Hoseok closes the space between your lips he takes his time to taste you, a chaste, deep kiss is the beginning of your downfall inside his arms. He tastes of red wine, a sweet taste that has you ask for more, his tongue slowly swirling around yours. The game he plays is to see how long it will take you to ask for more, how long until you need his cock inside you. But you already know it won’t take long.

Out of nowhere you feel another hand reaching underneath Yoongi’s baggy hoodie that barely covers your thighs, the new feeling is welcomed with goosebumps spreading all over your body. Taehyung’s hand reaches to unclasp your bra, hoodie long gone with Hoseok’s help. The moment you break your kiss with Hoseok, Taehyung crashes his lips on yours and he tastes sweeter than Hoseok, his tongue reaching yours hazily, his pace faster than your liking but it excites you how eager he is for you.

The touches never stop, you can feel them touching you everywhere, senses overwhelmed from the roughness of the kisses they leave all over your neck and breasts. You are certain there are going to be bruises everywhere in the morning but you don’t care, they are going to be your trophies for your daddy’s reward. When your mind crossed the thought of having their fingers inside you, Taehyung reaches down to feel how wet you are.

“She is so wet” Taehyung growls and with one sharp movement he tears your panties “Do you want my fingers inside your pussy, baby?” he adds

You nod eagerly but it’s not sufficient for him.

“Tell me, kitten. Use your words” 

“Please fuck me with your fingers, daddy” you obey to Taehyung’s request and it sounds so perfect to hear him call you kitten

Hoseok helps you get up as the both of them undress in front of you. You have seen them half naked before inside the house but nothing has prepared you for the feast they are offering you right now. Both of them have beautiful smooth golden skin, well built torso and their thighs, oh god their thighs. It’s such a shame they do not show them much more often. And then you see their cocks. So big, so thick, so hard. Taehyung is bigger than Yoongi but Hoseok is thicker if possible than both Yoongi and Taehyung.

When Taehyung gets you back on his lap, he pulls you down on his cock, making you feel it. He looks at you through hooded eyes, his long wavy hair falling in front of them and he looks so ethereal, out of this world. His fingers find their way back to your wet pussy and he rubs your lips, spreading them to feel your wetness. He seems to know what he is doing, smoothly inserting two fingers to prepare you for his cock.

“You are so tight, kitten” he groans “Is this why you cannot get enough, hyung?”

“Savour the moment because you will never find a pussy like that” Yoongi tells him, feeling proud that he has you, that you are his

Eyes glued on yours to find that one sweet spot that will have you get weak under his touch, he feels the need to have you call him daddy the same way you scream it for Yoongi. It’s not a competition for him, it’s a need to satisfy you. Your hand searches desperately for Hoseok who is sitting right next to you, moving his hand slowly up and down his hard cock. You put your hand on top of his, mimicking his movements and the long moan you drag out of him sounds like a melody to your ears. They sound so hot when they feel your touch.

“More” you whisper to Hoseok

“What is it, baby?” he asks you

“I need more, daddy” you tell him hand moving faster, finger rubbing the tip of his cock gently

“Fuck, baby. You want my fingers too?” he growls

“Yes, please” you breathe out while Taehyung fucks you faster with his fingers

Hoseok kneels beside you on the sofa, hand reaching at the back of your ass, spanking you hard. You squeeze hard on Taehyung’s fingers and he hisses against your neck.

“She likes it, hyung” he tells Hoseok “do it again” 

Hoseok spanks you harder on your other cheek and he gets the same reaction from you, his hands reaching for your tight ring of muscles and you can hear him spitting between your cheeks. It turns you on how dirty that makes you feel, to have two men preparing you for their hard cocks. The new intrusion on your ass has you throw your head back and it makes you feel some way. His long fingers scissoring your tight hole slowly, offering you the same pleasure as Taehyung.

“Can you take both of us, kitten? Hmm? Can you handle us?” Hoseok’s husky voice sounds so hot and you almost scream to his question

“Yes, please, yes. I can take both of you”

There is no warning from Taehyung when he lifts you up to align his cock on your wet hole, pushing it all the way in, stretching you so roughly but the burning from the stretch is so deliciously euphoric that it makes you tear up from pleasure. Taehyung stays still to let you adjust to his size, leaving room for Hoseok to get inside you. Hoseok is standing behind you, almost in perfect level with your ass and he slowly pushes inside, whispering curses under his breath on how tight you are.

“How does it feel, kitten?” they both ask

“I feel so full.. I love it” you don’t even know how you manage to speak because your mind feels numb

Hoseok is the one to move first, his hips slowly rolling to move inside you and you can feel how big he is, how good his cock feels inside your ass. Taehyung is the one to follow, thrusting his hips slowly but harshly and to have both of them move inside you is too much. It’s too much but in a greedy way; you need more, you crave more.

“More.. Please more” you beg, looking deep into Taehyung’s eyes

“You are such a greedy cock slut, kitten” Yoongi says, reminding you he watches everything

“Do as she asks boys, fuck her until she loses her mind” 

Yoongi’s effect is immediate as always, both of your holes clenching around their cocks and the moment they start fucking you the way you have asked them to, your mind gets clouded from lust. Your eyes are fixed on Yoongi, your head leaning against Taehyung’s shoulder to see how fucked Yoongi’s expression is. You need Yoongi to see how good and obedient you are for him.

 Hoseok doesn’t stop filling you up with his cock as Taehyung gives you what you want, cock hitting all the spots no one has ever hit. The pain of having two cocks wrecking you at the same time is more than ecstatic, it’s the kind of pain you would love to feel every day, to have those men fill up your holes over and over again. You are not a fan of anal but damn Jung Hoseok; his hands spreading your cheeks as he spits over your hole to have his cock slide deeper inside you, the nerves he is hitting every time he rolls his hips show you how experienced he is, how well he knows what he is doing to you.

Taehyung is an expert on fucking you so well that your pussy is creaming all over his cock, he reaches your sweet spot repeatedly and you don’t hold back, you let out screams of pleasure. You keep screaming daddy because you know that even when those two perfect men are fucking you, you cannot wait until the time Yoongi is going to claim you as his. You are being greedy, his little obedient slut.

And as much as you want to cum, even when they keep pushing the correct buttons you need Yoongi to touch you. 

“Please, daddy” you beg with tears threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes

Yoongi knows, he knows the one thing to make you fall over the edge and cum hard, that one thing he craves to do to see you squirm. Both of the boys look at Yoongi stand right beside you, the tent inside his pants is more than obvious, he is not as eager to touch himself as someone else would be. Your eyes are keeping track on his fingers slowly wrapping around your neck, taking control over your body. This is what you need, what you want.

“Cum, kitten” these two words are all it takes for you to whimper and cum harder than ever, tears falling on your cheeks. Your pulsating holes trigger Taehyung and Hoseok to fill you up with their cum, making your insides feel warm and satisfied. The three of you are so tired and wrecked but mostly you.

“Are you okay, kitten?” Yoongi asks you while motioning to the boys to move so he can help you

“Put my hoodie on baby, let’s go get you cleaned up” he says so sweetly 

Yoongi carefully helps you dress on, limbs tired over the excessive use. Before he opens the door of his studio to leave, you give a kiss to Taehyung and Hoseok.

“Thank you for tonight. I know that neither of you were drunk. You were so bad at acting it out” their eyes widen and Taehyung slaps Hoseok’s arm

“I told you not to overdo it” he hisses

You laugh at how easily they give out that it was all an act and Yoongi kisses the top of your head after he says goodnight to them. As he closes the door he questions you about knowing everything all along.

“If you knew, why did you agree, kitten?”

“Because that is what daddy wanted and whatever daddy wants, daddy gets” 

Your answer is more than satisfying for Yoongi but all he wants right now is to fuck their cum out of your holes.

“Are you ready for more baby?” he asks but you know this is not a question rather than a warning for what it is to come “because I won’t stop until you are full of my cum”

[yuvon-writes-letters]

[This letter seems a little bit more, frazzled. The handwriting is noticeably messier, with a few food stains littering parts of the paper.]

Yu,

Alright, I fucking did it.

Told my man to not freak out, and sent him some parts of the first few letters, literally just now. He hasn’t responded yet, so I’m just, sitting here, waiting.

Meanwhile, I actually searched up spiritual meanings of Elder Trees, why? Honestly, most of this stuff sounds spiritual in the first place, so maybe putting a bit more research into the folklore will help a little.

According to a website I’m browsing, Elder Trees symbolize transformation, death, and regeneration. It apparently is very popular among fairy and witch superstitions and magical protection. It’s commonly connected to female deities, as well as protection and guardianship. Of course, this information could be inaccurate as fuck, so take it with a grain of salt.

It’s also said to be a part of a category of trees called the “Ogham Trees”, I’m still currently trying to figure out what the fuck that means, but I’m workin [there’s a drop of ink that covers the rest of the sentence, it seems the pen was laid there a little too long.]

Ok, update. He’s responded.

At first, he thought that I was pulling a humongous prank on him, but after showing him more proof (and a bit of begging) he eventually caved. He’s still, very skeptical but our ha Jake, is ok with us using his name.

He sends a very reluctant greeting [Another doodled emoji, of a sheepish face]

I’ll continue to research about the Ogham, and like you, I’ll act as middle-man for my Jake.

Trying my best, Rai (and Jake)

Rai and Jake,

Ah. Lovely. Symbols of death. Just the thing I love to see. But... that's sort of the opposite of what's happening, isn't it? Nothing's transforming, nothing's ending, nothing's regenerating. The Duskwood characters are in stasis, and I'm just sort of hanging out here.

Now that I'm writing this out, does the elder tree stand for the birth-life-death-rebirth cycle? It sort of sounds like that, but I'm not sure. So, this one of the symbols of death might actually be a clue or some sort of symbolic representation of how things SHOULD be, rather than a threat.

Yeah, I'm gonna go with that one when I summarize this to our Jake. Wow, it's shockingly hard to get used to actually writing his name, rather than dancing around it.

Female deities, protection, and guardianship. Well, "female deities" could either refer to me, or to what put me here. Always wanted to be a goddess XD "Protection" is a bit weirder. I guess I am, technically, protected from most harm here? Though I always feel like I'm walking on eggshells whenever I try anything new. "Guardianship" is weird for the same reasons. I don't exactly feel safe here.

"Ogham trees"... let me know what you find out about those, because I have no clue what those are XD I actually didn't even think of looking at them in a symbolic sense, before, but now that you mention it it makes way more sense for the trees to be symbolic rather than location-specific.

Now we have two Jakes and two amateur detectives on this case! There's no way this case will remain unsolved now!

Yeah, I think my Jake would've been more skeptical if I didn't send photos and videos of this damn place, and if he didn't know me. I don't mind the skepticism from your Jake, though. In fact, it's probably good, in a weird way. Someone's who's skeptical might look more closely at any and all information you share with him.

On the other trees: we got nothing. Google image search failed us, so poor Jake is combing through lists of trees on Wikipedia and through a couple forums dedicated to this stuff trying to find any that match our description. I wish I could help or that we could divvy up the work somehow, but I have no internet :(   For trees that look so generic, they are annoyingly difficult to identify. Every species has at least one thing off in these trees. Leaf shape, bark texture, color, height, etc etc. It’s driving me insane, and I’m not even the one doing the footwork!

I’m gonna talk to Jake about all this real fast, hopefully I don’t make his job too much harder XD

So, he’s as pleased as you’d expect about the whole symbol of death thing. He prefers the more metaphorical/symbolic/etc interpretation too, but unlike me he’s acknowledging the existence of the other option. (I, on the other hand, am utterly determined to forget it exists unless I feel like I need to explore the case from that angle.) Obviously, no one’s saying that I should literally die to leave this place, but we discussed symbolic and ritualistic forms of “death” and determined that we don’t know enough about what exactly this entity wants from me to come to any solid conclusions yet.

Maybe I need to change, somehow? Coming-of-age rituals are a symbolic death of the child self and birth of the adult self, after all. But unless the entity wants me to transform into a paranoid half-insane wreck, I can’t think of any “transformations” its putting me through.

Or maybe it has to do with

In any case... I should sign off soon. If I’m counting the days right, it’s Father’s Day, so I want to check in on Lilly and make sure she’s doing alright. She’s gotta have pretty mixed feelings about her dad right now. I want to check in with Jake too, but I feel like I should give him some time to cool off after the “symbol of death” stuff before I do so.

I wonder if my parents are doing okay. Are they worried about me, or are they in stasis too? Have I been reported missing in my world? Does anyone even ca

Oh shit. I just realized, my dad asked to meet the Duskwood group briefly, since he wanted to know the people who’d become such a massive part of my life. I asked the group to humor me, and they all agreed, and we set up a time and everything for a video call. Now I’m going to have to figure out an excuse to cancel all that without tipping the others off that I’ve been kidnapped by an eldritch entity. And Jessy knows me way too well to fall for it and she knows I don’t talk about my more serious problems and she’s going to know I’m keeping something from her and

Fuck. I’m SO screwed.

—A very stressed Yu and Jake

(The letter tucks itself into the paper clip with the others.)