#something about this one is compelling me

[patricia-taxxon]

I want to set the record straight regarding a certain OST for a short film that should be coming out later this year, because one of its directors is making false and hurtful claims about me and my business ethic. After he made a prominent appearance on a drama stream about me & wrote a section of my callout doc, I told him that I wasn't interested in dragging him publicly, but that has felt more impossible as time goes on and I realize the extent of his misrepresentation. I had a vision of this film being able to release quietly in spite of everything, but I don't think that can happen, and I fully expect him to try and hurt my chances at further work.

In 2023, between techdogs 4 and 5, I worked on music for a then good friend's student film. It is by far the most technically difficult job I've ever had, and I did it for free. Now, before you get mad, this is partially (mostly) my fault. I never negotiated a price beforehand, and when I found out partway through that I was working for free, I let it slide for fear of being disruptive. If I was asked to quote a price today, it would have been approximately 900 USD. The work was a hellish and grueling experience, technical in ways I'd never been prepared for, and I sorely regret not putting my foot down, because I was hollowed out by the end of it.

A big portion of his callout against me is concerned with, bafflingly, my decision not to contribute my own money to the film, which at that point would have been a negative paycheck. I didn't pay the thirty dollars that I would've had to pitch in for the film to be screened, and I considered that a fine payment for the nine hundred dollars of work they got from me. He goes on to write that I'm rich anyways, I pay hundreds of dollars on album art (business expenses that I know I'll make back when the music is released) and "furry porn," because apparently if I am occasionally willing to drop a pretty penny on a pleasure purchase then I should simply be compelled to pay them randomly for things I hold no stake in and that I signed no contract for. He also mentions that I paid them later for the DCP file at another screening, of course by that point I had gotten the vibe that they were wanting for me to drop money on their project, so I did, giving the post-hoc justification that "i guess in this case I also care about the film sounding good." He writes "well I guess that was something she deemed worthy" without realizing the implication would then be that he did not see my own work as worthy.

Let me make this clear, this is like if a voice actor worked on my video game for free as a favor with no expectations of royalties, and then I asked them to help me pay to get the game on steam. This is presented along reheated second, third, fourthhand accounts of sexual misconduct.

And before we move on, to the claim that one album artist had to wait for years before receiving payment, this is true. I did forget to pay one artist, and only found out after their assistant contacted me years later, where I then paid six times the asking price as a late fee. I was commissioning over ten album arts every year, and as of now, this is the only time I have made this mistake.

It is impossible for me to refute his claims about the personal time we spent together in Omaha, as it would just be my word against his. I will just say that he should know the omitted reasons that I have grown to feel I was disposed, discarded, and taken for granted by him, and how he has nothing to do with why I hold those memories at that film festival so highly. He also does the classic thing where he positions allowing me to pick the movie in the evening as this favor he did, making me unknowingly rack up debt for a bargain I never consented to.

During all this, he has expressed an existential fear of being harassed for going public about me, and for this reason I want to say that I still hope that this film can be released without a fuss, but his continued participation in a harassment campaign against me has done far more to tarnish his reputation than I ever could. If you really cared about your image, pressure Crim to re-record that drama stream without your embarrassing petty grievances in it & delete your testimony from the callout doc. Thanks.

[shanastoryteller]

Hi shana! Hope you have a great day!

Bit of a strange question ... So, the recent ao3 maintenance had me read through your mdzs fics again (I love lynchpin so much!) and it had me notice something: there are quite a few redemption fics for pretty much any chara out there, except for jin zixun. And tbh, I wouldn't even know how to start writing one for him, but I thought, shana's a really good author, maybe she would have an idea?

Obviously not asking for a fic, more like, if someone challenged you to write it, how would you go about it?

weeellllllllll

i don't think jin zixun really needs to be redeemed

what's he guilty of, really? he's an asshole, sure, but he's not evil. he doesn't betray anyone. he doesn't scheme. he doesn't lie. he's just a chess piece, manipulated and used and ultimately discarded. he hates wei wuxian because he's rude to jin zixuan, because the rumors of his relationship with jiang yanli sully jin zixuan's reputation in turn. hating wei wuxian doesn't make him evil. in both lynchpin and become tomorrow i try and write him as a jerk, but not a bad guy

however if we were to make him likeable, when it comes to tweaking characters enough to polish them up without making them unrecognizable, you gotta ask yourself three questions

what is his best quality?

what's his worst quality?

how can his best quality be used to soften his worst quality?

i'd say his best quality is his loyalty and his worst is his gullibility. you should also look at the inverse of this - his worst quality is his loyalty because it leads to him doing stupid shit and acting like an asshole when it's not necessary, and his best quality is his gullibility because phrased another way, he's unthinkingly trusting of certain people.

so you'd take the person he's loyal to - jin zixuan - and make him a good sympathetic character. you'd give jin zixun's overprotectiveness a reasoning - such as jin zixuan feeling constrained by the expectations of his station and father's reputation keeping him from acting as freely as he'd wish - and you'd use this to soften his gullibility by having him trust jin zixuan completely

looked at like this, jin zixun's foil is wei wuxian. he acts for jin zixuan as wei wuxian acts for jiang yanli, with similar reasoning, and similarly potentially disastrous results. we find wei wuxian good and compelling and sympathetic. why not jin zixun?

often i think the best thing to do is not necessarily adding or subtracting to a character, but taking the traits they already have and shifting them just enough to show a different angle, like holding a prism up to the window to make a rainbow. there's something good in there already. you just gotta look at it the right way

[keeheauxtales]

here’s a quick confession: I likely was the one who requested this drabble, and baby, did Mikha deliver or what?! 🥵😍

however, I felt compelled to return to my stephenyoonkeeholdup roots and build upon this since then, and I finally found it in me to finish it! I feel just a little rusty, but I still ultimately enjoyed writing this!

for anyone who comes across this (MDNI‼️): enjoy! 🤍

S.I.S (Self-Indulgent Series) | VOL. 2

I See U 🔞👀

pairing: switch!keeho stephen (with a bit of a perverted edge?) x [poc-inspired] switch!fem-bodied reader (reader’s pov)

content warnings: reader's a bit of a cougar (but only by a couple years in this scenario, wherein keeho is the same age as reader's sister), use of a metaphor involving an element of catholicism… i'm also (still) experimenting with only using 'stephen' throughout this piece. and since beginning this S.I.S series, i've joined the growing(?) population of "big dick keeho truthers" here. 🤭

themes: oral (m and f receiving), mutual masturbation, needy!kee!, edging, dirty talk, air fucking??

word count: ~2.2k (lowercase intended)

i’ll be goddamned… my sister’s bestie was in my room… jerking himself silly… on my bed! the audacity of this motherfucker, i swear! i always peeped that about stephen, though; how little to nothing will stop him from achieving whatever he wants to achieve. it’s a whole other animal — when it clicks in my mind — that he clearly wants to achieve something with his best friend’s older sister… with me.

“I can’t get this feeling… out of my body tonight

I know I need you

If you like that feeling… inside of your body

Let me know and fuck with me now.”

— 🎵🎶 “With Me” | DVSN

in the same capacity, i’m nosy to no end, and that too can more often than not lead to consequences. such as, inadvertently intruding on someone’s privacy. however, it’s valid when that ‘someone’ intrudes all up in your personal living space, unprovoked.

“what the fuck?” i spit out, feeling my blood pressure rising with every step i take into my bedroom, approaching a [fine, sexy] guy i only know by association. as i close and lock the door, i see poor stephen visibly shake as he attempts to crawl backwards with his dick all out.

“fuck!” he spits out in response, eyes widening while still evidently clouded with lust for the subject matter walking toward him. “shit, i’m so fucking sorry…” he then takes a pillow near him to cover his junk, seemingly letting out a moan at the contact… because don’t think i didn’t clock how hard his cock was even now.

“nah, don’t be sorry now,” i retaliate, quickly moving the pillow, and replacing it with my hand. even i consider how bold this is, but i clearly heard my name leave that pretty mouth of his several minutes prior.

stephen is unable to stop the moans from escaping him while my hand goes from just palming his surprisingly big dick to stroking it at a casual pace.

“was this what you wanted when you called my name earlier?” i inquire, my eyes staring right into his.

he gulps before answering breathlessly, “to an extent..?”

"what exactly did you want then?" i question further, an eyebrow raised.

"i want to fuck you."

alrighty then! it didn't matter that his answer was as clear as day before i ‘barged’ into all this; it was him being so damn blunt. i guess he figured that it was impossible (and unnecessary) to even attempt beating around the bush about it.

"you better be grateful i want you to…" i would've ran him out of my room pants-less otherwise, but i wasn't about to just let him have his way so quickly. i begin to confess as i lower myself to my knees like he's a priest, and i'm asking for forgiveness instead of confirming permission. "you better be glad i'm as curious as i am about those looks you give me every time i come around you, my sister, and your little friend group."

"mmm…" is all that stephen utters, his eyes closing as i continue to grind my hand all around his thick, veiny shaft, inadvertently using a bit of his release as a sort of lubricant.

"be glad i want to know how you feel inside me…" i say before opening my mouth to slowly take him in. i look up to see him squeeze his eyes shut, feeling his cock pulsate in my mouth, which made my pussy do the same beneath me.

"f-fuck?" stephen exhales as he immediately thrusts up into my mouth, making me gag as the tip brushes against the back of my throat. i don't want to look away from such a pretty sight above me, even as I'm struggling to breathe.

he's so big? i think to myself as i bob my head along his cock, moaning around his length, beginning to caress his thighs and stomach. i brush against the hem of his shirt, the drying spot from when it was in his mouth of all places, thus reminding me of just what got us in this predicament in the first place. without me even asking (and quite frankly, i was too willingly preoccupied to), stephen finally discards of the shirt, revealing tan skin that was more gorgeous than i might've even imagined.

“mmm…” it became my turn to moan out as my bottom lip rested on his mushroom tip, “you taste really fucking good, steph.” i drag a hand of mine down underneath him to grab at his balls, and he starts to lose it.

“shitshitshit… (y/n)!” stephen whines, and my own name sounds like music to my ears coming from him, making me moan as drops of precum land on my tongue. i lean back to swallow the sweet taste before engulfing his cock in my mouth again. "oh my god, you’re gonna make me cum, keep suck—"

as much as i didn’t wanna do it, after my head promptly dipped to meet my hand a couple more times, i draw back completely, feeling a bit diabolical. i surpress a smirk as i wipe saliva from my mouth, licking my lips after.

“i waited to walk into my room ‘til i saw you clean your hand of all evidence of your nasty thoughts about me,” i clasped my fingers in between the fingers of that very hand of his before resuming my little spiel. “so you can wait your turn for seconds. i wanna play catch-up with you.”

i had brought stephen’s fingers to the spot that became just as permeated as the bottom of his shirt — the center of my short bottoms. i could barely hear the gasp i saw leave his mouth over the boisterous noises that had left mine immediately upon impact.

“god, i need that in my mouth,” stephen exhales, his free hand latching onto the waistline of my shorts. i let go of his other hand to assist in discarding them completely. however, i don’t move quite yet once i feel fabric hit my knees, my eyes piercing down at the increasingly needy boy sat beneath me. “please!”

“good boy,” i coo at him mischievously, moving my hands to cup his face in between them. he looked so cute as he glanced up at me, a hint of softness showing in his eyes despite the overwhelmingly obvious lust.

his gaze follows my bottoms down my legs, letting out a drawn-out moan at my exposed cunt before dragging two of his fingers along my folds. i reply to stephen’s low moans with a few of my own, feeling (and hearing) just how wet i already was.

by then, my hands had found their place down in between his neck and shoulders, my fingers digging into them as i feel his fingers dig into my dripping cunt way too easily.

“fuck… you must’ve been wanting me just as bad, huh?” stephen asks with twice as much curiosity as he feigns a tone of cockiness.

“don’t — fuck! — get too excited, boy,” i respond with my own portion of botched boldness. i’m the one whose juices are landing on my bedroom floor… now onto my bed… while one of stephen’s hands is on the small of my back guiding me back onto the mattress to join him, his other hand remains pumping into me at a ruthless, nonstop pace. it’s not long before my knees buckle, and my ass lands in between his open legs.

i attempt to crawl over to stephen when my hand instinctively gravitates around his dick again, pulsing as i pump my hand around him, and i just know his hand has to be soaking now. my face is mere centimeters from his gorgeous face, and i almost forget how to breathe.

sticking my tongue out, i (after brief thought of how insane all of this was) lick stephen’s gaping bottom lip, inviting him to kiss me as we continue feeling each other up from below — which he does… very feverishly.

i can’t help but match his energy – and volume – when he proceeds to thrust three of his fingers at this moderate speed, yet each hit is so aggressive that my legs begin to shake. the both of us can’t seem to help the overflow of obscenities that spill over into each other’s mouths in between languid kisses.

after a while of messily making out, our mouths are left gaping open, facial expressions mirroring the other as i notice stephen’s eyes glued to my lower body. almost completely distracted, my hand slows around his throbbing cock. one way or another, he seemed determined for someone to reach their climax.

“wanna cum… wanna make you cum…” stephen begins to mindlessly ramble in between panted moans and groans.

“you still want to taste me?” i ask, just as breathless as he is, yet just barely able to remember what he said earlier.

“god, yes… so bad… please?” stephen pleads, complete with such an irresistible doe-eyed gaze that i find myself crawling up toward the headboard, grabbing onto it as i lower myself onto his face.

at the last possible second, i notice stephen’s thick tongue completely hung out like his cock. but before my body could properly react to that, i feel its heat enter the heat of my wetness, and i can’t seem to stop the whimpers i let out, or my legs from shaking.

“oh fuck!” i yell out breathlessly, gripping the headboard tighter, but not as tight as stephen is gripping my waist — and definitely not as tight as my walls are gripping his tongue.

i raise my body up and down as stephen’s tongue curls itself in alternating directions, and the moans he lets out from underneath me cause my back to arch as I respond with similar (louder) sounds.

“fuck! steph…” i groan, beginning to fuck myself on his tongue — not his face, but his mouth — as i feel (and hear) soft, plump lips sucking intently on my pussy lips. his hands have went from around my waist to gliding all around my lower back, a couple of surprise smacks coercing me into fucking his face with one of my hands lodged in between hair follicles.

with his huge hands gripping all on my ass, i roll my hips to grind against him unabashedly, feeling his tongue dip a bit deeper in between my walls. in response to the tip of it flicking rapidly before continuing to suck every bit of arousal he possibly could out of me, i let out moans laced with so much debauchery that i scare myself.

i barely sense the adjustment and movement stephen makes with the rest of his body in the midst of all this face fucking i’m doing, but his head is beginning to be engulfed by pillows — my pillows — and i feel the bed shift a bit different than my body is moving. i slowly turn around as much as i can to find him thrusting up into the air while still managing to lick and suck me into what could be one of the best orgasms of my life.

i reach back and wrap a hand back around his cock, feeling precum as well as vibrations from between my legs as stephen hums in a higher pitch. at this point, i feel like i’m riding a mechanical bull, especially once my hand lands on his sack again.

with his mouth becoming a bit harsher with its’ actions, stephen begins bucking his hips up, my fist full of his dick as he sporadically fucks up into it. he won’t stop moaning into my dripping cunt, and i can’t help groaning at how good he feels.

“fuck, stephen… you feel so fucking amazing, shit!” i cry out, feeling my legs shake yet again even harder than before. his tongue flicks along my clit rapidly and repeatedly, and i feel my stomach tighten… but once again, not as tight as my walls are around that muscle of his. “fuck, i’m gonna cum!”

i hear stephen let out a long, loud muffled moan as some sort of response, his cock twitching in my hand while his fingers begin clawing into the skin of my lower back. my other hand — that never left the top of his head — grabs the back of his head, pushing his mouth just that much further into my warmth, but only for a moment as my wetness begins to take over.

“oh my god, steph…” i exhale as i feel goosebumps all over my body while i release into his mouth. seconds later, my hand becomes just as coated with his cum as his was in the beginning of all this.

moments later, after we both regain any semblance of composure, i’m laid out next to (but opposite) stephen as he takes my cum-covered hand, and sucks my fingers clean of all evidence of his vulgar thoughts about me. i see him sneak a glance at my alarm clock before speaking.

“looks like we have probably 30 minutes before we’re not alone anymore…” he states between kisses he plants on each of my knuckles. “do you wanna keep going?” a pause as his voice deepens, “because i genuinely wanna fuck you into your mattress right now.”

the moan that escapes my lips before sitting up was downright incontinent. with a hand on his chest, i push stephen back down before making intense eye contact with him.

“if that’s what you want… then fuck me, baby boy.”

it was one of keeho’s guilty pleasures where he liked to touch himself at the thought of you even if you were merely a few rooms away, even if you were one of his best friends’ sibling.

keeho had the rim of his shirt stuffed in his mouth when he was pumping himself dry as his mind thought of the most impure and racy things about you, and that included fucking you dumb and filling you up with his cum.

throwing his head back with a whine, keeho’s whines were loud despite the fabric in his mouth, slowly dampening due to his saliva. his hips buck up into his hand as he grips himself a little too hard, tears brimming his eyes as he shut his eyes hardly.

he whines and pants, “y/n..” keeho moans with a mouthful of his shirt, chest heaving with pants as he helplessly bucked his hips up.

when keeho was spurting his cum all over his hand, he would’ve never known that you had seen him through the door’s gap that he unintentionally left open when he hurriedly went in and touched himself at the thought of you.

[i-am-countess-olivia]

This isn't some novel thought, but for me Fitzier begins in ep2, when Silna's father is brought onto Erebus

(a long-ish, GIF-heavy scene breakdown follows)

I won't cover the violations of Silna's beliefs, feelings and bodily autonomy which happen in these moments - they are of course terrible and very important. Instead, I want to focus on how the scene kicks off a new dynamic between Francis and James, how it lays a foundation for their subsequent closeness and how it changes our view of who James might be as a person.

Let’s begin.

Sir John and James arrive in the sick bay to join Stanley and Goodsir. Stanley says: "nope, not touching this one". Goodsir asks for leave to save the shaman's life. Franklin, already looking deeply disturbed by what's happening, hesitantly agrees.

Francis arrives. The operating table divides him from Franklin, Stanley and James — he is literally not on their side. All three men glare up at him as one: How is this maudlin MF going to make this horrible situation worse for us?

But while the three of them just stand there, Francis puts himself in charge. With a bit of help from McDonald, he takes hold of a distraught Silna and tries to explain what is happening, who they are, that they're not trying to do harm. It is in this moment that James becomes the only one on the opposite side of the table to step forward (to help Francis control the situation or at least to do something). He looks compelled to action but cannot act.

Okay... so here we see that maybe this guy isn't just Franklin's poodle (we saw a bit of that earlier in the episode - more on that later).

Meanwhile Franklin, as soon as Francis takes control, BUGGERS OFF. Of course this can be justified by him already having given his orders and no longer needing to be involved, but we know that a) he sneaks off when the situation is clearly fraught and Francis is clearly better suited to handle it, knowing Inuktitut among other things and b) he actually ends up hiding out in his cabin, freaking out while listening to the howls of the dying man. This is too strange, too awful for him. Not to mention: oh god, I'm stuck in the ice, I've just lost a lieutenant, I keep losing men, what are they going to think of me?

While Sir John is off having a lil meltdown.... James' eyes are firmly on Francis.

We don't even see him acknowledge his captain's departure.

But why is James there? The obvious answer is: to report back to Sir John, to make sure things don't get weird and that Francis doesn't do anything stupid on THEIR ship. After all, let's remember the last scene before this one where James is focused on Francis:

Here he was describing Francis as if he's got him pegged: he's a disappointed man, Sir John, he was no one's first choice etc etc.

I know what he is. Do you now, James?

(interesting framing the above scene, btw - James standing, active, Sir John focused on his creature comfort, the pipe, and questioning himself. James speaking in firm tones to his commander: "I will not allow..." — James is literally being reframed as a leader.)

Anyway, back to where we were.

While Goodsir sets about trying to remove the shot, we get a little glimpse of James: he looks frozen, uneasy, swaying in to stare at the wound (Oh Tobias, the actor that you are). Can we say flashbacks to the Chinese sniper? This must be seriously triggering for him. Something is shifting.

(Another aside: James is standing next to Stanley, the man who dug out the shot when he was hit by the sniper. That same man is now refusing to help. Hm.)

Next, Goodsir says: I can't save this man. Here something important happens: James and Francis share a look.

This is Francis, for the first time, acknowledging not just James still being in the bay at all — but that the two of them are in this moment together! Francis' eyes saying to James: I'm about to tell this woman her father is going to die and James acknowledging in return how awful that is. He presses his mouth, drops his eyes.

The little flash of connection doesn't last. When Silna starts to plead with her dying father, James once again reaches out across the table to Francis: what is she saying? But it's maybe too pushy, too "I need to be told what's going on" so Francis ignores him and it's McDonald who answers.

Next, Silna launches herself at her dying father. Here, once again, James tries to take an active role, to "help" by following Francis' cues on what to do.

James has been watching, learning, asking questions and now looks desperate to be part of the solution to this awful situation: to be in this with Francis. Look how similar their gestures are, how James looks to Francis for direction.

---

STOP - DOOM HAMMER TIME

The VERY first scene in which Francis and James become partners, take action together to keep something from happening, they effectively set in motion one of the biggest causes of their doom: Silna's father doesn't die as he should, Tuunbaq is not bound to anyone. Oh man. That's a whole other essay.

---

(Back to the scene....)

While they're wrestling with Silna, James, clearly emotional and upset by what is taking place, reaches out again, perhaps this time more sincerely: Look at me, Francis, I'm trying to help, at least tell me what's happening? This time Francis acknowledges him — actually SPEAKS to him for the first time.

In response, James looks particularly vulnerable and distraught.

Silna's father dies. We see how different James' reaction is to Francis'. Poor James. Maybe he wants a little bit more from Francis in that moment, one more shared look. Francis doesn't give it to him.

Aaaaaand here we are, it's almost over. Franklin swans in, the really bad, bloody stuff having already been dealt with. He re-asserts his command by giving an order to James to escort Silna off the ship. James… doesn't exactly spring into action. In fact, he doesn't even acknowledge the order verbally, unlike Stanley. What's going on in his head? What does he think about Francis in that moment?

Anyway, let's wrap up.

So much of this scene is about the shift in James’ perception of Francis. He suddenly sees a man who is hands-on, who can take charge, who doesn't walk away from a terrible and unusual situation, even when it's clear there's no good outcome. And of course he knows Sir John skipped off at first opportunity.

Francis, meanwhile, only briefly appears to acknowledge James —but only as far as we can see. Francis of course knows that James was there, that he stayed behind, that he tried to help, that he tried to understand.

This knowledge and this changed dynamic become apparent immediately, in the very next scene.

LOOK HOW THEY ARE FRAMED!!!

Sir John is already receding into the background. James and Francis sit — still opposite sides of a table but in essentially the same pose. They are partners, mirrors, leaning into each other. The few glances here, small as they are, are NOT at Sir John, but between James and Francis.

Anyway, here you go, that's me done. I fucking love this show.

[ilynpilled]

the thing that keeps me huffing the Jaime Lives copium fuel is that killing him would be way too fucking boring (& easy). Oh he fights in the long night? Back to back with his sword's twin? Having these two warriors complement and mirror each other? Having learned that it's not the law that dictates what deeds are good? That it's following your morals and humanity that do? And then he DIES???????? i sleep. He needs to live with his shame forever, actually (or maybe get the fuck over it like an adult but hey we can't ask everything of a 35yo teenager). also narratively blablabla it's more interesting if he lives and has a relatively good life when it comes to the whole "bUt HaS he BeEn RedEemeD?!?!" shit. If he's dead it's a fucking pointless conversation. Mic drop i guess although this is all over the place lol. ps: brienne also needs her trophy consort-husband.

ive said before that this was always my personal angle for my desire for him living bc this is what i would probably love the most when considering george’s intentions and the questions he admitted to be putting forth with him bc ig this is my personal answer to those questions. and you know much of that angle is seeped in this (and i really do like the whole “lifes a bitch and then u die but sometimes lifes a bitch and then u keep on living” and want that for my faves in some form)

but i do think his death works and is already set up with a lot of this idea of “legacy” and what part of him is meant to not be interred with his bones (pretty clear how brienne’s fire is the extension of his lol, and we know what she embodies thematically), and that i think is also pretty poignant w these questions. i think that might be the story george is telling w him:

atp i am just leaning towards anything thats memorable and moving and fulfilling to me personally even if it is leaning more towards tragic than just bittersweet (still my ideal) but i do not have a specific vision for it really

[utilitycaster]

Hi! I just wanted to add to what you said about Laudna that her motivation from the beginning of the campaign did not change at all, in that she was ok and totally moved on from her trauma, and was just helping Imogen find out about her powers. I don't recall that Delilah was much of a problem outside of talking in her head sometimes, so getting Delilah out wasn't a character motivation.

There were times were it looked like her character was going somewhere when Marisha talked about Laudna being mentally stunted and Delilah's influence being akin to an addiction, and thought maybe they can address some of that in the campaign, but we had a lot of "woe is me Delilah is making me do things" which is BAD if you address the addiction allegory (still taking into account that Marisha may have misspoken during 4sD about it)

They didn't even deal with Delilah properly, she is still there and can talk with Laudna, and I don't think by the end of the campaign Laudna is in any way more capable of ignoring her as she did the first time they defeated Delilah and she was just a faint wisp, she wasn't in any way actively influencing Laudna back then until Laudna tried to bargain with her for power (i may be paraphrasing or misremembering though it's been a bit)

Saying that Laudna's character feels very fic-y is surprisingly accurate, she feels like someone who would have been sold to One Direction

Sorry for the long ask

OK first off YELLING at the being sold to One Direction but yeah, that's the thing, she feels like this passive self insert who people give things to and like without her like, doing anything other than putting her messy brown hair in a bun on the top of her head.

I think with a lot of my frustrations with various characters, there is frustration on both sides, with Matt and the cast, and Matt bears a LOT of responsibility to be clear because I think in his focus on the core plot above all it shut down player attempts to the point that even stronger players with stronger concepts kind of gave up in the end. But for Laudna, here is the throughline.

Early on she floated the idea of getting rid of Delilah when Imogen was trying to get into the Starpoint Conservatory. This was good! It was introduced as a potential longterm goal of Laudna's! It's just...that never happened. The research was always very moon focused, and when it became clear this wasn't really an academically-inclined group the research took the form of Grim Verity lore dumps, which naturally didn't allow for side research. The gnarlrock fight famously went nowhere because she and Imogen apologized right away, but then, notably, Laudna didn't do anything to get back at Delilah nor did Delilah keep doing anything. Imogen's attempts to work with Delilah failed (this feels like part of the 'No Consequences' rule; Imogen binding herself to Delilah as well or having Delilah take on more of Laudna, something Laura as Imogen actually made steps to pursue, could have been something! I mean I'm team Jiana would have been more interesting, but this could have worked!) and so then the whole probably was kind of put on ice by the Vox Machina-helmed resurrection, and Delilah faded to a nonentity that Laudna didn't have to care about. So she didn't! Until she came back, and then she sort of cared for a bit but Delilah didn't make her do anything and then she came back to Jrusar and instead of leaning into her anger she kissed Imogen and forgot all about it until they went to Whitestone 12 episodes later (still no real consequences of Delilah coming back), she reiterated a connection to Delilah back there and had some scenes with her due to the shard but again, she wasn't really inconvenienced or changed, and then there was one last flare up with the sword and then Essek fixed everything.

Like, this would have been very easy to make compelling by having Delilah actually be a threat. Part of why I don't feel much about Laudna living out her life is that like, Delilah is just sealed away again (and fwiw we gotta at some point talk about how there was a whole setpiece about how Leaving Things Sealed Just Perpetuates A Cycle and then there's at least two sealed evils and one fully unsealed if mortal evil guy hanging out, like, thematic coherence whomst?) and throughout the story Delilah mostly just serves as an intrusive thought who broke something once and hit a couple of dudes. Chetney getting caught by the red moon and attacking people felt more real and he took more responsibility for it. If Delilah had constantly been trying to take over? that would have been interesting. If she hadn't but Laudna was furious that the woman who killed her was using her body and at all times was fighting against it? that would have been interesting. But it was just this vague blurry meh. Delilah is her warlock patron and the reason she's alive, but she can be diminished to basically nothing without any drawbacks, and Laudna sometimes hates her and sometimes wishes to wield her, but that all fizzles out every time. Again: if you wished one of these things were true and mourn the character Laudna could have been - either someone using Delilah's power at the cost of her own will, or someone fighting desperately to reclaim her own body and mind - then I'm right there with you. But as she was in the story? I wish One Direction had taken her away and we'd gotten someone better.

[alacants]

Ok you might not be interested in this but you seem to be the tennisblr discourse person and your takes are so great so feel free not to answer haha - but I feel like this fandom collectively is sleeping on the potential of Novak/Carlos? Something about this Fedal baby appearing when all Novak's real rivals are gone who is openly affectionate with Nole like neither of them were. & the pain of Carlos losing matches he's expected to win very publicly to him all the time & getting criticised for falling for Novak's "mind games" (lol) but still not making any effort to stay away from him. And all the titan/titanito stuff IDK it compels me

kdlfjakldjf idk if i would describe my niche in the ecosystem in such maximal terms but. flattery will get you everywhere.

most importantly, you are RIGHT. there is massive potential here, in both their on-court history and their off-court dynamic. in fact there's so much material that i'm struggling to shape my thoughts into a coherent answer SORRY IN ADVANCE. ← need to stop acting like this isn't the norm.

ok first of all. rpf aside, this rivalry is fascinating because carlos alcaraz is doing more than anyone else around to validate novak's current day stature as a tennis player. and novak's at the stage of his career where you start to think about your legacy not just in the wider world but within tennis—how will you be remembered and talked about by those who inherit the sport from you. 

roger federer is the very, very obvious measuring stick. take this video (obligatory zverev & kyrgios warning). in a vacuum you'd never know who barely played half these guys versus who was out there making mincemeat of them on the regular while also holding every record known to man. such minced meat that those achievements aren't necessarily seen as a success for you so much as a referendum on them. 

and then along comes carlos alcaraz. and for reasons fair or unfair, tennis fans are so hungry for his arrival. they want to a new star, they want to see him dominate, and they want it to look exciting. and some tennis fans, in particular, would love to see novak djokovic get washed. 

which at first is what looks like is gonna happen. carlos wins his first wimbledon final at novak's expense. the emperor's been toppled, ding dong the witch is dead—and then cincinnati. then wimbledon again, and not even close, he's really for real dead, this time it's gonna take—and then the olympics. which is the first major final loss carlos has ever experienced, tears and all. and then the australian open, where carlos has set his sights loudly and uncompromisingly on the title and the career slam and the record. only guess what. not yet. 

and now novak is indisputably part of carlos' narrative, an active agent in a living breathing rivalry with a flesh-and-blood player instead of ghosts and record books. everyone says carlos alcaraz is the real thing. and that means that so, still, is novak. 

(meanwhile, in the space of 12 months jannik sinner happened. but i can't get into that or this post will REALLY get out of control.)

that's on court. where carlos plays not like rafa but like roger, and there's no way novak doesn't see that. ("spanish never die" notwithstanding.) off court, it's like falling into a mirrorverse. carlos isn't just willing to share the spotlight he's eager to have company. he is singlehandedly trying to yank the player he's identified as his closest peer up there on the same level with him well before anyone else gets it. and he thinks novak is one of the greats.

like yeah man WHAT IF time-traveling roger federer actually loved you. here's round two with a certified tennis genius who doesn't resent you and everything you represent and does laugh at your jokes and respect your achievements and speak in glowing terms about how you play tennis. it's gotta feel good, right?

and yet. not good enough to stop novak from doing what he has to do to win.

there's something similar yet very finely distinct about novak and carlos as top players and people persons. i'm boiling it down to, for novak it's being friends won't stop my talent and for carlos it's my talent shouldn't stop us from being friends. (i would say that's also roger coded, except imo roger's initial take, in the mid-00s, was that his talent very well MIGHT stop you from being friends and that's okay, he doesn't hold it against you. <3) in both cases, the feelings are genuine, and so is the confidence. 

novak's always wanted to be liked. he's the funny guy, he wants to make people laugh, he wants to be friends, but he is absolutely and totally unwilling to compromise the things that might make it easier to keep those friends. given a choice, he will always choose being the best. and if someone, or someones—especially someones—doesn't like him, well. for better or worse, he's learned to feed on it. this is no different. friendship and respect and affection and praise are not going to stop novak from using every tool at his disposal to win. every bit of understanding he's gained about his opponent as a person and a player. 

(my take on this is not actually negative by the way. if you're a professional athlete it's your responsibility to use those tools and to play the person as well as the player. also coming to the mind games sport and complaining about the mind games is like going to the circus and complaining about the clowns.)

i think that ao qf moment was so telling—the moment carlos was faux-limping and looking over at novak's bench with this sort of injured confusion like, why are you doing this to me. betrayed dog vibes to the max. the comments afterward as well. the tear was very real, but the reaction says a lot. like welcome to the novak djokovic experience kid! bff phrased it as "the phenomenon of accepting novak djokovic's overtures of friendship and inadvertently letting him into your psyche just enough for him to fuck with you the next time you play. he should talk to rafa about it." this isn't the only interpretation, but it sure is a tasty one.

and yet. carlos is demonstrably a lover not a hater. i would bet anything that—especially with the injury details out there—it's not going to change anything even if, like, IT SHOULD. there is this bit in anon's fic one is silver and the other gold, which is one of my favorite carlos & novak dynamics: Carlos wants to hate him. It would be easier; everything would be easier if he could hate all the people he's supposed to, for "proper competitive mindset" or whatever. But as usual, he just doesn't have it in him.

idk i think there is a ton of fascinating stuff to dig into wrt regret and cycles and second chances and novak's impending mortality and the nature of genius. i do think it's ultimately doomed but it's still really interesting. 

(or alternatively i mean. maybe the impending mortality DOES make the difference. maybe novak does get out of the time loop! like, i am most personally compelled by all of the above with the invisible presence of andy murray haunting the narrative BUT there is a pretty funny romcom alternative with novak's friend (!!!) and coach andy murray immediately clocking what's up and being like nole please don't get your heart broken by a twenty-one year old, which, HEY novak's been around the block a few times he's not gonna do something stupid… <- he is absolutely gonna do something stupid.)

[hannahssimblr]

Later, in bed, I toss about. There are too many throw pillows. Astrid’s childhood bedroom is unexpected like that. Floral wallpaper and painted storybook style furniture painted soft green. Fabric lamps printed with delicate petals and trimmed with lace. The bedroom of a fictional princess. 

I’m bothered by the pearl earrings, back in their box on the side table, lit faintly by moonlight through thin curtains. Replaying the scene by the Christmas tree over and over. Coming at it from different angles, all of which I come out looking like the idiot who doesn't know his own girlfriend.

“We all know you love Pat Conroy,” said Mia, when she handed her that book. Does she? Does she like Pat Conroy? She never mentioned it to me. I could have bought her a Pat Conroy book. I could have bought her all his work if I had known that. How is it I’ve seen her read dozens of books, but never thought to ask her about them? Every one of them might have been Pat Conroy, and I was too idiotic to check, assuming she'd turn her nose up at such humble a gift as a book. Not even a new book. It was second hand, with a red discount sticker on the back. She loved it.

And Pernille, with that lavender pillow spray. “Do you remember,” she said, “when you were a teenager and you had that terrible bout of insomnia? You couldn’t sleep for weeks, and eventually it was lavender oil that helped you. Such a simple thing, wasn’t it? How funny.”

The socks from Gitte. Colourful stripes on them. “Ha!” I thought when Astrid unwrapped them. “She won’t wear them.” But I was wrong. She wore them all evening. Took pictures of them and sent them to friends. Look! So cute! She wrote. There they are now, on the chair in the corner of her room, ready to be worn again tomorrow. I toss a throw pillow onto the floor and turn over. The little bed creaks. 

“Mmph,” Astrid murmurs. 

“Did I wake you?”

“Are you okay?”

“I just can’t sleep.”

“Oh. Do you want my pillow spray?”

“It’s fine.”

A minute passes. Two, maybe, and she might have fallen back asleep, but I’m compelled to speak through the silence. “Did you like the earrings?”

She turns, the silhouette of her sloped nose outlined against the window. “Huh?”

“Did you really like the earrings, or were you just being nice? I want to know. You can tell me.”

“Yeah, of course. I think they’re beautiful. Why are you asking me this?”

I pull the blankets under my armpits and stare at the ceiling. Stickers there of woodland animals. “I don’t know, just the things your family got you… they weren’t things I would have ever imagined you would like. I've been second guessing myself.”

“Of course they got me things I like. They’re my family. They know me.”

“Well, I didn’t know you liked certain novels, or that thing about your insomnia, for example. As your boyfriend I'm supposed to know you, too.”

“Oh, well, I suppose those things never came up.”

“You never told me. You never mentioned the insomnia.”

“When have we ever discussed insomnia specifically?”

“Well, never, but I’m sure there’ve been opportunities where you could have included it in some conversation, like for example if I ever said I didn't sleep well the night before, or we watched a film with an insomniac in it, you could have been like, 'oh, that reminds me of this one time', or whatever.”

She gets onto her elbow and stares at me. “Are you angry with me because I never told you about something that was happening for six weeks when I was sixteen?”

“No, I’m confused.”

“Confused.”

“Yes.”

“It is confusing to you? Like I don’t seem the kind of person that would suffer from insomnia?” She’s kind of laughing at me, but it isn’t funny. No, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to have insomnia. She doesn’t seem like the type of person to have any ailment or condition, be it insomnia or athletes’ foot, bronchitis or an under-the-skin pimple on the side of her nose. 

“Astrid, I feel like your family were bringing up stuff about you, and telling stories, and I had this moment in the room down there where I felt exposed. As if I don’t know you at all.”

“You think your gift was inappropriate because it wasn’t related to my past?”

“I'm worried you’ve been pretending to like the things I get for you, or something.”

Her hand comes to my hair, combing gently my scalp with her fingernails. “I don’t pretend. I like that you choose them for me.��

Incredulous. “You like that I choose them.”

“Mm. It’s a window into the way you see me.”

With a surge of emotion, I inhale loudly through my nose and her cool palm moves to my face. “What?”

“The way I see you,” I repeat. “What if I want to see who you actually are?”

“Well, you do. This is who I am.”

“What’s ‘this’?” 

She pauses. “Who I am at home and who I am with you… it’s just different sides. I like getting your gifts. I like the jewellery, because I like being who you want me to be.”

“And I want you to be…?”

“A woman who wants expensive things, reads mysterious books, and never had insomnia.”

I groan. “Is it?”

“Yes.” 

“But I’ve just realised I couldn’t even imagine you being sick at all, you know? I was with girls before who would go on about periods and shit, but you’ve never brought that up with me.”

“I don’t get period cramps.”

“Okay, well, you see my point.”

A low laugh. “I think if I did, I wouldn’t discuss it with you.”

“Why?”

“For the same reason. I don’t think you want me to have ailments and aches and pains. It’s not who I am with you.”

I cover my eyes, dizzy with a mild headache from the effort of our conversation. “Ugh!” I manage. It’s so late, and my stomach is still so full from dinner that I wish I’d just be sick to ease the discomfort. My frail mind cannot handle this discussion.

She comes closer, rests her head in the curve of my neck. “You know, this is special. Having you here on Christmas.” A strategic subject change, not gone unnoticed, but allowed, given the circumstances.

“Hm?”

“I haven’t had a boyfriend over in years. Since I was at school.”

“Oh. Should I feel honoured to be the first guy in your bed?”

She chuckles. “No. My boyfriend from school was here first, sorry to say.”

“Your mom was alright with that, was she?”

“Yeah, sure. I told her I was going to lose my virginity with him and she lit candles and left a box of condoms and some chocolates and things in a basket on the table. She was very supportive.”

“Oh, God, okay. You lost it in this very spot, and your mother knew about it while it was happening.”

“I think she would prefer here than somewhere dirty or unsafe.”

“Very progressive of her.”

“And what place did you do it?”

“Hm. Not at home. Never did anything there. Would have been too weird. I used to just do it anywhere I could find some privacy. On the ground, and stuff. Then eventually I got a car and graduated to the passenger seat.”

“Do you think your parents knew?”

“Nah, they think I'm a virgin.”

“I don’t think so.”

I nod. “Anyway, what I’m picking up from all this is that your weird little princess bedroom is not off limits? She’s already seen it all?”

“Not it all, but some. Tame things.”

“So we’re allowed? Gitte isn’t going to burst in with a bucket of water halfway?” I roll over to deliver a playful bite to her neck. “What type of woman are you, Astrid? The type to fuck a guy in her childhood bedroom while her family sleep in the other rooms?”

“If you say so,” and turns automatically to put her face into the pillow for me, but I halt her, whispering, “No, I literally couldn’t tonight. I feel too horrible from all the food. I just like knowing the option is there.”

“Sure,” she replies. “It's whatever you want.”

I know that already. This is what I want now. To kiss her temple, pull the covers over her, and let her drift off in my arms.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[clickbeetle]

i’ve been really thinking about the relationships between the chapter two princesses and their corresponding voices in your head, and how they can each have their own take on what constitutes romance (or any type of relationship i suppose.)

how each voice is kind of obsessed with their princess. the broken’s obsession with the tower’s power. the witch’s and opportunist’s obsession with betrayal and trust; a knife at each others throat. the damsel and smitten’s obsession with each other. the razor and the cheated’s obsession with ending each other. and so on.

but the one i’ve REALLY been thinking about is the potential romance between the stranger and the contrarian. i never really gave either of them much thought before, but there’s something so compelling about “i love when things are different and interesting. i love when something isn’t what you’d expect. and you are all of those things. therefore, i love you.” i think contrarian could truly love the stranger, and i think she would appreciate being loved by someone because she’s a little fucked up. contrarian could find something truly beautiful about her. even if it is his own fault. maybe even because it’s his fault. it compels me.

[m4rs-ex3]

tdp instagram creators try not to shit on the show for no reason challenge!! (*IMPOSSIBLE*)

You all are just trying to find reasons to whine about the Stella plush.

“Guess she was just a merch plug all along.” What? You know how long it’s been since she was first introduced as a character? You think the only real reason they did was to merchandise her? Like they were just secretly plotting and planning this entire time for her to be merchandised 3 years later and that was her entire purpose lol.

Like, I genuinely cannot fathom how people could seriously be so upset over this. I mean, I’ve even heard a lot of people say the complete opposite and how they really wish TDP had more merch. This reaction I’m seeing is so weird and I cannot imagine it being anything other than forced.

“Maybe it’s just me.” No, the problem is that it’s literally not just you. Literally every major TDP artist I’m seeing on Insta except for one is saying stuff like this, and that’s why I feel like this is a forced reaction.

Also why is it weird to get merch directly from the show? Do you think it’s weird… to support a show you like?

[talonabraxas]

Archangel Khamael Talon Abraxas Archangel Chamuel and Charity

Archangel Chamuel, whose name means “he who seeks God,” and his divine complement, Archeia Charity, serve on the third ray of divine love. Their etheric retreat, the Temple of the Crystal-Pink Flame, is over St. Louis, Missouri. An arc of divine love forms a bridge between their retreat and that of the Elohim of the third ray, Heros and Amora, in the etheric realm near Lake Winnipeg in Manitoba, Canada.

Together with their legions of pink-flame angels, Chamuel and Charity serve to expand the flame of adoration and divine love within the hearts of men and elementals. The joy of the Christ and the proper use of the creative powers of the Godhead are the forte of their instruction. On The Legions of Angels of Divine Love “We come, then, defenders of love and leaders of the archangels and the many angelic bands serving with us in the very victorious flame of divine love. We come fully aware that the maintenance of love, day by day, involves a striving, an ultimate striving—a compelling of the soul to strive to manifest the greatest essence of the interior Light, even the nectar of the Lord Buddha. “It is the summoning of forces, cosmic forces, within and inherent in thy own being. It is the summoning of will to bring forth that skill, that perfection, that perfect enterprise that becomes not only the handiwork of God but the instrumentation of highest manifestation of God in the earth. “Let me tell you something about perfect love. It is not only selflessness but it is the assertion of the Great God Self with such an all-consuming fiery furnace of manifestation as to consume all unlike love.” Calls to Archangel Chamuel and Charity Morning Prayer to the Archangels

El Morya instructs us in The Chela and the Path: “Each day the sons and daughters of God evolving in Mater have the opportunity to receive the energies of one of the seven rays cycling from the sphere of light held in the heart of an archangel ….Receive the Lord's appointed spirits with the salutation:

‘Hail, flaming one of God! Welcome, son of the Most High! Enter, thou servant of the Lord. Come into the sanctuary of being where the kingdom of God is come into manifestation on earth as it in in heaven.'” Call to Go to Archangel Chamuel and Charity's Retreat

Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. O my soul, let us arise from our abode. Mighty I AM Presence and Holy Christ Self, with Archangel Michael and a cordon of blue-lightening angels, transport my soul clothed in my finer bodies, fully equipped with the armor of God, to Archangel Chamuel and Charity's Temple of the Pink-Crystal Flame over St. Louis Missouri or to the designated place of my Holy Work this night. Escort me, instruct me, and guide and protect me and all co-servers, I pray Thee, now and always as we serve to cut free all life on earth.

Archangel Chamuel, To Extol The Light and Love of the Heart of Gautama Buddha, Pearls of Wisdom, vol. 24, no. 10, March 8, 1991.

[oacest]

oacest scholars, do you have any gcest fic recs for a beginner?

we decided to answer this in brief and limit ourselves to three recs each or, as evidenced by past failures to answer this same simple and straightforward request from other people, we'd spend forever quibbling about our choices and never actually post the dang thing. here, in no particular order, are some good jumping off points:

trill's recs:

1) @snickfic's baby, you're gonna be the one that saves me, aka my fave fic (technically series, it's got two parts) in this entire fandom. in which liam gets knocked up in the mid 90s by someone who's not noel, to noel's intense anguished jealous heartbreak mild dismay. even if you're not really into mpreg this one is well worth it. the characterization is god tier. bal and i insisted that jackie, who staunchly doesn't like mpreg, read it and even she was converted.

2) i could be your lover, you could be all mine, by hapaxlegomena. a collection of unconnected porn ficlets. lots of extremely tasty stuff in here, i reread random bits of it regularly.

3) the D'YA WANT SOME? series by one of our own triumvirate, bal! im sure she's squirming in horror that im including it but it is by far the best, most well-written, most well-characterized, thoughtful, hilarious, hot, fascinating work in this whole fandom imo, and is a perfect intro to the whole concept of pre/early days oasis and what noel+liam might have been getting up to behind the scenes (as it were) before they were famous.

bal's recs:

1) Filmstar, an orphaned fic on Ao3. This one gets recced plenty but for good reason. It's very funny in a deadpan way and the Liam in it is such a perfect little weirdo. It's a great fic to start with, readable even if you don't know all the lore and whatnot.

2) outta sight and outta mind by lustmord. this author writes Trauma and specifically the brothers' trauma in a way I find endlessly compelling. (for all that Everyone Knows about their shitbag dad, it is still such an unspoken and often unpredictable presence in the room; you can't really get into them without tangoing with it in some fashion)

3) Let Me Be The One, by @savageandwise. absolutely fantastic Liam voice, this author just GETS him. I often think about this quote as a literal thesis statement for Noel's whole insane deal:

You think he's perfectly willing to allude to it in public if he's the one pulling the strings. Cause he thinks he's cleverer than the rest of the world. He thinks it's edgy and rock and roll when he does it. It's his brand of anarchy. And when you do it you're just stupid and embarrassing and determined to destroy everything.

jackie's recs:

1) Trying To Find A World That's Been and Gone by @storyshark2005. my colleagues graciously let me be the one to put it on my list because this is Thee fic. as we were all getting into Oasis initially, this fic was our constant companion and teacher, holding our hand as the fixation unraveled within us. it's a present-day fic that beautifully and masterfully unpacks the entirety of their relationship from the glory days to the estrangement and it is so jam-packed with research and details, you can just assume that everything that's being referenced is based on something that actually happened. in my opinion, this is where any new fan should start.

2) If I Had a Gun by @savageandwise. it's probably cheating to put another fic by this author when bal's already done it, but... I don't care lmao. in many ways we're splitting hairs because all this author's fics are worth your time. but I do hold a special place for this one because it so wonderfully captures the tenuousness of their dynamic at any given moment. how they could go from fighting to flirting to hating each other to needing each other in rapid succession. it feels so true.

3) Here's Looking At You, Kid by RedheadAmongWolves. don't be thrown off by the fact that this is one chapter away from completion, it's still totally worth it. the characterizations are great, the vibes draw you in, the UST is delicious. honestly, this is really meant to function as an overall author rec. there were several here I could've chosen.

[freakbabyy]

soft universe - Eris Vanserra x Princess!Reader Chapter Two

< chapter one | chapter two | chapter three >

2.561k words

warnings: mentions of neglect, smitten!eris

second chapter!!!! ty for reading, for the loves and reblogs and comments!!! I LOVE COMMENTS!!!

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Story preview: Y/N Erling - youngest descendent to the King of Vallahan, not special, youngest of seven girls and four boys, and certainly not next in line to the throne. A kind soul, free-natured, always does what's asked. Content with spending the rest of her fae life taking care of her nieces and nephews while her elder siblings dealt with court dealings. That was until they drew up an agreement - her hand in exchange for their agreement to the treaty with Prythian. Enter Eris Vanserra - new high lord who did not want a wife, nor a mate. Can they work it out together - under pressure from a blood rite, a language barrier, a culture barrier, and Eris' unfortunate attempts at flirting.

-----

chapter two - runaway 

Eris’ POV 

I wouldn’t say I was dreading meeting Y/N Erling; but I wouldn’t say I was ecstatic. I didn’t know anything about her, I didn’t want to be married this fast, and I surely didn’t want to do a blood ritual and potentially put myself in danger - or my future heirs. But here I was, standing outside of Rhysand’s townhouse picking my cuticles – a nervous tick I’ve had since a child. What if she was insufferable? What if she was annoying, or would try and overthrow me to get Vallahan more land? Kill the remaining allies I have, which were few and far between before I married someone from Vallahan. 

“What’re we looking at?” I jumped, not realizing that the Illyrian brute had snuck up on me. 

“Nothing.” I snapped back, motioning for him to go first as I followed, we were most likely going to the same place. Rhysand’s office. “Haven’t you heard its rude to sneak up on people?” 

“I didn’t exactly sneak up; I’m surprised you didn’t hear me land right beside you.” Cassian took a stop in the kitchen, “I’ll catch up with you in Rhy’s office, I need some food first – Az kicked my ass in training.” 

I didn’t reply, simply walking down the decorated hall before ascending the stairs. I knew where I was going, often meeting Rhy’s for our own meetings here when needed. Though, a lot less lately since Beron was dealt with. Following the hand painted portraits on the walls, I stopped when I heard a sound out of place. 

It was almost too quiet to hear, but the cracked door let the sound out – a humming. I felt compelled to stop, to listen. I doubted it was Morrigan, she was too loud to be this quiet, the soft tone of the hums clearly establishing it was a female. Amren didn’t sing, and if she did it would be a battle hymn. It wasn’t Feyre – she was with Nesta and Elain; I passed them as I entered. That didn’t leave anyone other than Y/N, unless it was one of the shadow wraiths.  

“And I was running far away, would I run off the world some day? Nobody knows, nobody knows.” A female stood in the middle of the room with hair that looked as soft as a feather. She was facing away from the door, her body seemingly relaxed and holding something close. “And I was dancing in the rain, I felt alive, and I can’t complain, oh,” 

She swayed back and forth, getting into the song it seemed. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her form to take in the rest of the room, but when she turned and was staring down at what she was holding I knew. She was singing a lullaby to the small bundle that was Prince Nyx, cuddling him to her chest singing as if it was her favorite thing in the world to rock him to sleep. Her eyes, which were sparkling like gemstones were no longer staring at the sleeping prince, but now at the window.  She continued to sing her haunting melody, and I continued to listen.  

“Take me home, take me home where I belong,” Her stare was longing almost, and her voice was hauntingly beautiful, falling from her plush lips with ease as she didn’t even appear out of breath; like it was second nature. “I got no other place to go, take me home, take me home where I belong; I can’t take it anymore.” 

The more the song went on, the more I couldn’t bring myself to look away and the more it took for me to remember to breathe. Her song continued, as she slowly lowered the prince into his wooden crib, kissing her fingertips before lightly brushing them against the small amount of black hair atop his head. He fussed, but only for a moment before she started to sing more – even more angelic as she began to dance.  

Her movements were slow, as if she were performing for the prince instead of lulling him to sleep. She twirled in a circle slowly, her eyes closed, as she tilted her head to the ceiling – twirling so much grace it had to of been second nature. My head tilted as well, watching her mesmerized. I was unsure why it was pulling me in, why she was pulling me in – until it happened.  

“And I kept running, for a soft place to fall-” She continued, and I was sure the young prince was asleep by now although she kept singing. When she stopped in her tracks and stared outside the window once more and a dreamy smile graced her lips, as it snapped. 

I physically had to clench my teeth to stop myself from making a sound, holding onto my tunic as emotions flooded my entire being – warmth being the most prominent one. Her singing faded into the background; my eyes blurred as I tried to focus on a single thing to no avail. I held the doorframe, turning and sliding down the wall beside the door landing on my knees as I had realized what just happened.  

“Incredible, huh?” A voice startled me out of my stupor, as I stood quickly to brush my trousers off. 

“What?” I shook my head, staring up at the Illyrian brute eating half a sandwich still. 

“Her ability to get Nyx down so fast, it takes anyone else like an hour to get him to stop fussing enough to give in to sleep.” The long-haired male patted my shoulder before I followed him into Rhy’s office, still feeling my heart beating in my ears. “Nervous for the meeting, bud?” 

“No.” I cleared my throat, straightening my hands to stop them from fidgeting and betraying me in my lie. “And I’m not your bud, Cassian.” 

He shrugged as he shouldered the door to Rhysand’s office open, inside was Morrigan, Azriel, Rhysand, Feyre and Nesta. When had those two snuck pasts me to go into the office? Rhysand pointed to one of the open chairs, where someone wasn’t sitting. I chose the one in the corner as usual. 

“Good morning, Eris. How’s high lord life treating you?” Rhysand started conversation as usual, too. 

“Oh, just a blast, like unicorns prancing through meadows.” I drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm before rolling my eyes and speaking once more. “It’s rough right now, I just had to gather a completely new advisory council after one member was trying to bribe guards to not tell me his crimes Beron had hidden.” 

“What were the crimes?” The shadowsinger questioned, curiosity getting the better of him. 

“Four counts of arson, three counts of treason, and eleven counts of illegal prostitution.” Cassian choked on his sandwich, to which Nesta took the rest of and gave him a look before finishing it. 

“Well, isn’t that lovely of him, I do wonder if those were recent or not – from my memory Beron’s advisors are- were all dirt old.” Rhysand shuttered as Feyre spoke. 

“Very recent, and they were.” A few others shuttered at the thoughts, as I cleared my throat. “Anyway, I do believe we should get this over with. I have many meetings later on in the afternoon to deal with that.” 

“Ah, of course; though there are some things first we should talk about before we introduce you to Y/N.” He motioned to his cousin, as Morrigan took over. 

“First things first, she’s a lot younger than we anticipated.”  

“You’re not making me a baby snatcher, are you? Because if that’s the case-” 

“She’s of age! She’s 23. She’s mature for her age, too – I've known her for a couple years and I swore she was at least 100.” Morrigan reassured me, if only a little. “More importantly, she isn’t fluent in Prythian common tongue. She doesn’t know basic mathematics, and she doesn’t know much about geography.” 

“What does she know? I thought she was royalty? Aren’t the royalty overseas generally very well educated?” Rhysand spoke next, an almost solemn look on his face. 

“They are. They just didn’t educate her. She’s the eleventh child – and mostly forgotten about by her parents. Her siblings were much older than her and had other obligations to attend to. In short – she was practically neglected.” He took a breath, “She was basically the live-in nanny. She took care of her sibling's children and gave up her career and future for that – just because they asked.” 

“Why would she do that?”  

“She didn’t have a choice. Either that or become forgotten again. I know you heard her on your way up, yes?” Feyre questioned, a sparkle in her eye. I nodded. “She was going to be a theatre performer. She did orchestra and loved plays. Her dancing rivals Nesta’s. Nyx enjoys her voice, and she enjoys taking care of him.” 

That explains the dancing and singing in the nursery, her expertise in dancing and singing were definitely not unnoticed.

“She was forced to take care of children, and now you have her taking care of yours?” 

“She volunteered. Practically jumping up and down when she asked to hold him.” Rhysand smiled, a knock resounding from the door, bouncing around the room. 

“Ah it is me!” The thick broken accent spoke from the other side, slightly muffled from the thick wood of the door. 

“Yes, come in.” Rhysand responded, as Cassian leaned towards me, 

“Don’t panic if she falls to the floor. She does that sometimes,” He smiled before slapping my shoulder again, and I was even more confused. Giving me advice? Is he trying to be my wingman? 

“Wait, what?” I questioned, his sentence sinking in. If she collapses? I stood abruptly as the door swung open slowly, 

“Sorry. This is heavy.” She said, pushing the door shut after entering.  She walked towards where the empty seat was, holding her hands clasped together behind her, holding a small soft smile and bowed her head to everyone. “Elain told me to visit, I here.” 

Rhysand smiled, Morrigan giving a thumbs up in encouragement – as I turned to look at her fully, she adorned a simple gown with an apron, it had slight stains on it – accompanied by a small shovel in her pocket. She gardened? Her feet were in simple flats, and her hair was in a comfortable hairstyle.  

“Y/N, this is Eris Vanserra, Eris, this is Y/N Erling.” Immediately she straightened up. 

Her hands letting go of each other and rejoining in front of her, wringing together. Her brows shot up, furrowing, as she glanced to Feyre. She looked from Feyre to my feet. Then back to Feyre. Feyre smiled a bit but then nodded while stifling an amused look. Before I could even stick my hand out for a greeting, she was on the floor. I heard the audible ‘thunk’ as either her head, or body hit the floor. I was thinking the lather as everyone else made a face. 

“I told you,” Cassian whispered loudly behind me, and I was unsure what to do. 

“You can get up, Y/N.” Nesta spoke, as she clambered up. Nesta drawled on as if this was her hundredth time saying it. “It’s how her custom shows respect. Lower the more respect.” 

“Oh,” Her bowing her head to everyone made sense now, I bowed my head as well, glancing up to make sure it was okay, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” 

“You, too.” She stuck her hand out, “I do your custom now.” 

“Ah,” I agreed, unsure what else to do, and went to shake her own hand. She looked baffled after, “Did I do something wrong...?” 

“You shake wrong.” 

“I- what?” I could hear muffled laughter followed by a slap behind me,  

“Here, I teach. Hand.” I complied, sticking my hand out, as she grasped my top two fingers before bringing my hand up and down. “See?” 

I was confused but nodded anyway. Where did she learn that? It must be another Vallahan custom perhaps. 

“That’s how she shook Cassian’s hand, and no one had the heart to correct her.”  A voice spoke inside my head, and I gave Rhysand a curious look.  

“Well now that that’s over with, why don’t we talk about when you two would meet next, and where. Did you want to stay here, or?” Rhysand questioned, looking back and forth between us, as I went to agree she spoke up. 

“Can we meet there?”  

“Where?” Morrigan questioned, speaking in Vallahan. 

“Autumn?” Y/N responded also in her native tongue, turning to me and looking me in the eye, “I am sorry, I do not know the word.” 

“No need to apologize, it’s alright. We can help you learn now.” I did my best reassuring smile, which was probably more of a smirk, and turned to Morrigan. “What did she say?” 

“She... actually asked to go to Autumn.” I was shocked. Surely, she wanted to stay somewhere she was comfortable already, since she was just pulled from her home? “Is Autumn stable enough to visit for an hour or two?” 

“It is in some places. I can take her on a nature walk? Do you enjoy the woods?” I directed the question to Y/N, and she looked a bit puzzled. 

“He wants to know if you want to see Autumn’s nature? I’m sure you can find some flowers native to Autumn there.” Feyre translated, and she seemed to perk up. 

“Oh! I like flowers. Yes.” She said the answer to me, and at her excited face – her wide eyes and even wider smile I felt my heart do a couple flips. 

“Great. Then it’s settled. Autumn, should we say two days from now? Noon-ish?” Feyre confirmed, glancing more at me for the time. 

“I can do one o’clock. I have an early meeting that may run late to noon.” 

“Wonderful. See you then.” Rhysand nodded once in confirmation, as I stood to leave, and bid farewell before making my way to the door. 

“Ah, wait!” I turned, stopping myself from winnowing by the Sidra. It was Y/N, a bit out of breath from running down the stairs. 

“Yes, princess?”  

“Here, my custom.” She had me hold my hand open before she dropped something into it, closing my fingers around it with her tiny hands – and I had hoped mine hadn’t started sweating with nerves. “We give handmade stone to other.” 

“Handmade stone?” I opened my fingers to look at a bright orange crystal, it was shaped as a tiny animal. Upon further inspection, it was a tiny fox. “What is it?” 

“Sunstone,” She moved my hand, so it glistened in the sun, becoming even brighter. “It brings good luck and energy. For you.” 

I was touched. She hadn’t even met me yet, and she already made me something handmade. She took her hand back, and picked up a rock from the sidra, it was already fox shaped – probably chiseled already and cooling off in the river, she cupped her hands around it before squeezing. When she let go, it was another orange fox, but smaller. She placed it also in my hand, smiling again. 

“Now he has friend.” I took her hand in mine, clasping the foxes in the other, and bend my head to lay a kiss on the back of her hand, lingering. She turned the color of Morrigan’s shirt today, a deep crimson,  

“Thank you.” I let go, and before disappearing, I turned once more. “See you in two days.” 

“Ah, goodbye. Two days.” 

-----

eek! im so excited to write more of this series and im so glad you guys like it too!

taglist: @bxm-2121 @itsxchar6 @iambored24601 @sparksandstarss @an-introverted-nishinoyasimp

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

beginning snippet of something i’ve been working on. baby sub ian you compel me so tags: sex club, first time sub! ian, experienced dom! mickey, ian is nervous and cute and doesn’t know what he wants exactly, all he knows is he’s very into mickey

Ian is minorly freaking out.

The room is like something out of Fifty Shades, but slightly more intimidating in real life. Slightly warmer. Slightly overwhelming, with its wall of mounted whips and multiple surfaces to be whipped on.

It’s not that Ian has to worry about those because he definitely steered clear of them on his terms and consent form, it’s just overwhelming to see - to look up from the pillow they told him to kneel on in the center of the room, to a sight of ropes suspended from the ceiling.

It’s a lot.

Ian definitely wants to be here, but he’s minorly freaking out, every second that ticks by as he waits for the dom to come into the room feeling like its own brand of torture.

But he wants this. God, he wants this so fucking bad - practically needs it at this point, even though he’s nervous. So he sits and waits, his back to the door and time ticking…ticking…ticking, until finally…

Behind him, the doorknob twists.

A rush of air, otherwise silent.

And then the click of the door closing again, sealing him back inside.

Only this time, he’s not alone.

Ian balls his hands on his thighs, his heart beginning to beat uncomfortably under his t-shirt. He waits. Because that’s what a sub is supposed to do, right? Wait? That’s what the lady told him to do before she left.

More silence.

Anticipation wracking up his body.

Nerves popping off and okay, maybe just a little peek.

He turns to shoot a glance over his shoulder, but doesn’t get much. Not enough without kneeling off the pillow, and he definitely shouldn’t do that, right?

“Hi…” he tries. A shot in the dark. But it’s better than nothing, and- “I uh-… I know you probably know this, but it’s my first time here...” Unclear whether this is helping or not. If it makes him feel better or more frantic. “I’ve never-… I mean, I don’t really know how to-”

“Tell me why you’re here.”

The voice that cuts him off isn’t unkind, but it’s commanding. Certain.

And fuck, does it have Ian’s mouth snapping closed for a moment as he tries to process the effect that has on him, something plucking teasingly at his nerves.

No. It’s okay.

He can do this.

“I just-…” Breathe in. No need to freak out. It’s a simple question. “I always have to…do everything.” In bed. Which is fine - he’s kinda built for that - but deep in his heart of hearts he knows that’s not him. Not all the time, at least. “I don’t wanna have to do everything…” Hopefully that makes sense.

“So you wanna be lazy.”

Ian frowns, twisting for another look over his shoulder but getting nowhere. Seeing no one. Just a shadow in the corner. “No.” That’s not it at all.

“What, then.”

This is bait, isn’t it?

Or is he actually asking?

Ian tries to go over the options again in his head, just as unsure where to slot himself, now that he’s in this, as he was when he was filling out his terms.

Why is he here? What is he looking for tonight?

A dom to serve…? A dom to challenge him…? A dom that’ll give him structure…?

He shifts on his knees, pulse quickening. “I don’t-… I’m not sure.”

Yet.

He’s tired of making decisions, remember?

“What’s your name?” he finally asks. Because as hot as lurking in the shadows is, his curiosity is getting the best of him. Especially when he hears that voice again.

“To you, it’s sir.” The air shifts behind him in slow steps - rounding…rounding…rounding. “‘Yes, sir’… ‘No, sir’…” And when he finally comes into view, the payoff is as overwhelming as it is gorgeous. “‘Whatever you want, sir’…” he smirks for that one in particular, measured playfulness shining over dark features. “You get it…?”

He knocks the breath right out of Ian’s lungs - the words from his throat - lips parting, but producing nothing more than a nod as he takes in the man in front of him.

Holy fuck…

Ian was expecting something flashy - leather and buckles - a harness, maybe. But there’s something impossibly hotter about the gold chain and black tank that fits across this dom’s chest. How it shows off the tight, defined muscles in his shoulders - his arms - the sturdy cut of his waist that leads to even sturdier thighs under black denim - the kind Ian definitely wouldn’t mind worshipping a little if he told him how.

He posts up right in front of where Ian’s kneeling and all at once, it’s like he’s drawn every ounce of energy from the room right here - right in his stance.

Power.

Ian doesn’t know if he’s supposed to, but he can’t get himself to look away. Can’t drag his curious gaze from those eyes as they peer down at him, heavy-lidded but piercing.

When he speaks, he asks it clearly. Not strict or mean or anything, but still somehow cutting right down to the nerve. “When’s the last time you been touched?”

Ian swallows. Shifts on the pillow, gaze flicking away before coming right back. “Uh… Do I really-…”

“Asked you a question.”

Right. Yeah no, of course he did - of course he did. “Um…” Ian’s brows draw together as he traces back for visions of his last hookup. “Like…a couple months, maybe…?”

“‘Maybe’?”

“A couple months,” he confirms, eager to convince. “Two. Two months.”

Is that a long time?

Too short?

“And you’re here ‘cause you think I’m gonna touch you…”

Ian processes. “I mean…” That’s what this is, right? That’s what all the consent forms were about? “I…was kinda hopin’… Yeah…”

He’s really starting to feel the control slip through his fingers. The dizzying dance of trying to keep up, even when the pace is ultra slow like this. The only thing he can focus on is how the dom steps closer, thick black boots sending his pulse thumping in his chest.

“I only touch good boys,” he explains. Then, tilting his head just a bit as he looks down at him, “You gonna be my good boy, Ian?”

And…

Holy shit. That’s-… That’s something, isn’t it? “Y-… Yeah, I can-”

“Say ‘yes sir’.”

A rush of heat floods Ian’s chest and then seeps downward, pooling low in his belly. “Yes sir…”

And it’s the ink he notices first, dark and swirling over the man’s inner forearm - printed crudely across his knuckles as those fingers reach out, closing the space between them as he hooks below Ian’s chin, plucking his pulse and face briskly upward.

Fuck…

Okay…

Ian breathes back in the gasp before it can escape his stretched throat.

Blinks up at the dom - drawn to how the room’s lights glint off the metal pierced across the dark arch of his eyebrow.

“You’re prettier than most guys that come here.”

And Ian’s heart flutters in the weirdest way. Because oh. “…really?”

“Mm… Got a real sweet face on ya…” He takes his time making his point - using his hold to tilt Ian’s head in all sorts of admiring ways, in control of every angle. “Almost cute enough to letchya slide on not remembering your manners.”

Oh.

Shit.

He just told Ian he’s pretty.

“Oh uh- thank you, sir,” he backpedals, the sudden desire to please setting him off in an unsure ramble. “You’re-…pretty too, sir…?” Is that right?

Judging by the little brow pinch he gets, it’s not.

But the huff of a chuckle that follows sure feels good, doesn’t it? Even if it’s Ian he’s laughing at.

“Fuck,” he grins, giving Ian’s cheek two promising pats before stepping away, “you’re gonna be fun.”

[the-bee-graveyard]

Yellowjackets S3 theories

I've been wanting to make a post on this for a while so instead of making a bunch of little ones I've decided to just make one big one. I don't necessarily believe all of these to be true but I think they're all very interesting and I wanted to talk about them all. They're in this order:

Queen Card Theory (Alternating Antler Queens)

Pit Girl Theory

Woman In Trailer

Coach Ben is alive

Split Theory

I'd be really interested in discussing these or hearing any other theories!

Queen Card Theory (Alternating Antler Queens)

This is the first theory that really captured my attention when I watched Yellowjackets, and it's basically that there will be four antler queens throughout their time in the wilderness, each representing a different one of the missing queen cards. Natalie is obviously the queen of hearts, but there would also be a queen of spades, queen of diamonds, and queen of clubs.

I've gone away from this theory for the most part since the season 3 trailer, since there's obviously been a significant time jump and I'm not sure if they have enough time in the woods left for there to be three more different antler queens. I do however think the remaining three queen cards will become a significant plot point at some point in the show, and that they will be uncovered.

Pit Girl Theory

I don't have much to say on this one, other then I think that the Pit Girl will be there last kill in the wilderness. I do believe in to be Mari, and I don't think they're hunting her in the scenes from the trailer. The parallels in those scenes though confirmed it for me.

For side characters I think will die this season, I think because Melissa is getting a larger role in the trailer, she's most likely to die. Which brings me to my next theory.

Woman in Trailer

I know a lot of people think that the woman in the trailer is adult Melissa, I personally do not think this. I don't think she's any of the Yellowjackets, really based on one line she says "you really are crazy" (or something like that). If it was one of the Yellowjackets I feel like she would know this.

More likely I think she's a private investigator, or a family member of one of the deceased Yellowjackets, poking around in the Yellowjackets investigation. I think both Travis and Natalie's death happening in such close proximity to each other would seem highly suspicious to anyone who's been following the Yellowjackets, and could get them some attention.

I saw a really interesting theory on tiktok that she's hired by Paul, who is trying to find out what happened to Ben, which I'm not going to cover in this post but I thought it was really compelling and would love to explore more.

I do believe all of the living Yellowjackets have been revealed. In the trailer Van says, "everyone who knows about this is us or dead", which could be said after the eighth survivor is revealed, but I don't think so. I think the eighth survivor is either already dead in the adult timeline or...

Coach Ben Is Alive

This one is a longshot I know but I've been obsessed with it for a while. I originally was a Javi is alive truther, but since that obviously is not the case, I've turned my attention to Coach Ben being the eighth survivor. I just feel like him dying is too obvious.

It's assumed from the trailer that Natalie is protecting Coach Ben from the Yellowjackets, maybe even helping him. I think the trial shown in the trailer is not for him, but for Natalie, for helping him.

Somehow Ben makes it back, whether he is rescued with the girls or on his own. For whatever reason the girls either do not know he was rescued, or believe him to be dead.

The "somebody wants us dead" in the trailer in this case would be referring to Ben, who, after learning about Travis and Natalie's deaths, could believe the Yellowjackets are up to their old tricks again.

Split Theory

This theory follows the Lord of the Flies parallels in Yellowjackets, which I simply had to talk about because I love the book. Basically sometime during their time in the wilderness, the girls split into two separate factions.

Based on the path the end of season two and season three seem to be following, I believe the group will split in half, half of them following Natalie (who represents Ralph in Lord of the Flies, righteous, "chosen leader") and Shauna (who represents Jack in LOTF, more violent and careless)

I believe the groups will split like this

Natalie's group: Travis (obvious reasons), Lottie (she believes Natalie is the rightful leader), Mari (follows Lottie loyally, also if she's Pit Girl her death could represent Piggy's in LOTF)

Shauna's group: Taissa (follows Shauna, pictured with her a few times in the S3 trailer), Van (follows Tai), Akilah (again, close with Tai, not very invested in Lottie's spiritual stuff)

Unsure: Melissa, Gen, any new characters

I'm also on the fence with Misty. Although she does seem very devoted to Natalie in the adult timeline, if we're following Lord of the Flies imagery, I could see Misty falling into the role of Roger, who does side with Jack. I also believe Misty could possibly switch sides to protect herself if she sees Natalie losing support.

Either way I think the groups come together at some point before the death of the pit girl.

[helinyetille]

could a fellow schnaul girlie recommend some schnaul ficssss 😋

Hi dear! Your fellow Schnaul girlie will be happy to help 🥰🌈 Today is my birthday, and I’m going to treat myself and hopefully you too with some amazing works about Paul and Schneider!

✦ Synchronized by Arrestzelle (@babypaulchen)

A very sweet and gentle one shot set in Sehnsucht era. I’m super into body worship fics and anything that has that cozy vibe of intimacy and familiarity, and if that's your thing too, I'm sure you'll enjoy this story!

✦ Отличная же идея?.. by Limlis

I read this fanfic on a different site, but you should have heard the scream I scrumpt when I stumbled upon it on AO3. It’s my absolute favorite, and if you happen to speak Russian, you should read it. The story takes place before the recording of Reise, Reise, and here, Paul and Schneider take a road trip to Spain while also trying to figure out their feelings for each other. This fic checks all the boxes for me, and that’s why I love it so much (as well as other Paul/Schneider stories by Limlis) 🖤

✦ Terrarium by Ms_Nerd (@ms-nerd)

A well-written and compelling one shot set in LIFAD era. I’m in love with @ms-nerd's writing. If you are more interested in the platonic side of Paul and Schneider's relationship, then you should definitely check out this story!

✦ Golden Brown by astrella_noctis (@astrellanoctis)

Okay, I admit, I’m a real sucker for the good old admiring from afar and yearning. Ironically, this trope might be my golden brown, my own personal brand of heroin. If you're into it too, then this is a must-read from me!

✦ führe mich, halte mich by Trent_In_A_Tree

Ah, yet another story that I enjoy, particularly because of top!Paul. Also, my Schneider may not be your Schneider (and that is totally fine!), but despite his Taurean love of luxury, which has been super obvious in recent years, I like to imagine him as a humble man :) That’s why I really like how the author wrote him as a somewhat shy and submissive guy in this story.

✦ Du riechst so gut by Menfinske

A kinky one shot inspired by Schneider’s scarfs 😈 Bonus points for well-written, realistic description and overall dynamic between Paul and Schneider.

✦ Let Me See You Stripped by christophspowerstance

Another kinky one shot, but this time featuring our beloved queen Frau Schneider. This one is so well-written, and it left me craving more. I'm totally guilty of imagining what might happen after the events of the story 😏

✦ Rock Star

A fun, slightly voyeuristic one shot written from Till’s POV.

✦ The Never-Ending Night by Arrestzelle

First, I recommend everything written by Arrestzelle. Like, seriously. The writing is always beautiful, the smut is always steamy, and the characters are always lovely. Second, this particular story stuck with me because, aside from a really hot sex scene, the relationship between Paul and Schneider is so full of love and adoration – just the way I like it. Also, there is something beautiful about the completion of a circle. I started my list with a wonderful fic by Arrestzelle, and I'm ending it in the same way (but not really, if you look at the fic title) 🤲🏻