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reds-writings · 6 months ago

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souls further entwined

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: finally an update for these two! sorry to keep you waiting! I've got a lot of life changes in the works so updates might come a little slower over the next few months depending but i hope this tides y'all over for a bit! this takes place sometime after if only tonight we could sleep

word count: roughly 2.5k

warnings: (PLEASE LOOK BEFORE CONTINUING) discussions of abortion, child loss, forced/unsafe medical procedures, bad family situations, angst angst, cursing, semi-not-so-smut at the end, minors avert your gaze or else!!

The hidden gem of a restaurant that Rust had brought you to somewhere in the French Quarter was rather nice with its live jazz band playing in the corner and lavish decor. The tinkering of silverware layered on top of the low rumblings of fellow diners did what it could to fill the void of silence that had long settled between you and the man sitting adjacent. He had spontaneously asked you– well more like told you to go out with him tonight. Something about wanting to do things right once and for all after all this tiptoeing around. The whole notion had taken you off guard, admittedly.

You’d been buzzing so bright leading up to tonight that you could've probably put a lightning bug to shame. He’d asked you on a real date. A step forward from the semi-clandestine meetings you’d both been settling on for far too long now. It was unlike him to outwardly admit to much but you doubted it was a wide occurrence that he’d take a girl on a date just because he was bored. This had meaning.

With that thought swirling in mind, you’d found your best dress and took what constituted as way too long of a pampering shower to best prepare for a promising night out with the man you'd become so deeply enamored with. It wasn’t often you got to get all prettied up for some fun given that work always managed to swallow you whole.

God you’d been so excited.

From the time you’d gotten into Rust’s Ford up until you’d sat down to eat he had yet to utter a single word to you. Hell, he’d hardly even managed to look at you either and it was starting to cause a distasteful rock that went by the name of dread to sink lower and lower in your gut.

Dexterous fingers stayed picking at the table cloth as a form of lengthy distraction and you fought the bubbling urge to snatch his hand and demand what gives. It wasn’t hard to miss the anxiety bleeding from his form with those tense shoulders and that telltale faraway look in his eyes. You didn’t want to continue the cycle of jumping to conclusions when it came to the routine lack of forthcoming involving his more vulnerable thoughts out of insecurity so you bit the bullet,

“Y’know…usually on a date there’s a bit more talkin;. Maybe startin’ with questions like ‘what’s your favorite color’-- it’s blue by the way, or ‘where’d you get that lovely dress’. Could also do with lookin’ a little less green in the gills.”

That got him to stop fidgeting but a response was not yet prompted. You sighed and looked down at the vibrant cloth napkin in your lap,

“If you’re startin’ to regret this we can just forget about it and head back-”

“I don’t know if I can be what you need.” He all but blurted and it had your head shooting back up in suprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t…I don’t find myself being suited for marriage like before. I can’t give you kids because I don’t think it’s right-”

“Wait a minute just-...slow your roll for a second.” Your mind was going a mile a minute at his frank outburst and you were having trouble pinpointing just where it all came from.

“First of all, I don’t necessarily need the promise of marriage to feel fulfilled. I’m about to hit 30 soon enough and I’ve supplied plenty for myself that I'm not sure some flimsy marriage papers can add on to. I’m not just sayin’ all this to make you feel better either so don’t go down that route.” You were tenderly stern in your delivery to make sure what you were saying was actually sticking without sounding offended.

All he could give was a slight nod as the tip of his thumb came to his mouth: a nervous tic.

“Secondly…” You cleared your throat slightly and gave yourself a moment of pause. The latter concern wasn’t that of an easy subject. For either of you. Besides your family and probably Marty, not many knew of your reality when it came to the idea of starting a family.

“I can’t have children. So that wouldn’t even be on the table to begin with I suppose.”

That seemed to stun Rust. His expression working out how, what, and when this came to be. You cleared your throat again. Talking about it was never easy no matter how much time passed.

“The gist of it is…well I got knocked up when I was sixteen. Total accident, shocker. And um…my pa didn't approve. Not one bit, bein’ the respectable county figure he was as a seasoned lawyer n' all.”

Your sinuses began to sting but you willed away any threat of tears as you tried to explain. Rust didn't say a word, his expression hardening minutely with a knowing sense of where this was headed.

“I didn’t wanna listen. I was scared of course but the boy I was foolin’ around with at the time was nice and had a family who wanted to be involved so that was enough for me. My uppity family could shove it for all I cared,” You scoffed wryly but continued, “But pa was adamant. He couldn’t have some little whore of daughter muckin’ things up but we were a church family so abortion was obviously out of the question. At least one would think that was the case,”

“Long story short he dragged me to some back alley clinic where things would be kept under wraps. They fuckin’ botched it of course and made me sterile. Didn’t really know how bad it was until another loss and a visit with the doctor after trying with a serious boyfriend some time ago…” You shrugged as you fiddled with your unused silverware. You hadn’t spoken with your family since then. Letting you be mutilated for the sake of preserving a frivolous public image was a hard thing to let go of.

You remember how sick you were afterward. Infection from the procedure and a decent amount of blood loss, go figure. You only recall the house's maids nursing you back.

Your pa had never been able to look you in the eye again. Your mama just pretended nothing had ever happened the way it did.

Sometimes your mind had the habit of taking a dark turn every now and then, wondering if they would’ve felt any remorse if their forced course of action ended up actually killing you. With a selfishness like they had you couldn't help but doubt it.

They had always taken more pride in your sister anyway.

“So yeah…you don’t have to worry about the possibility of kids when it comes to me. It’s not like with our line of work it’d be much of a good idea anyway. Marty’s a prime example I'd reckon.” Your laugh was brittle in a weak attempt to lift the heavy weight you felt like you’d set over the mood.

Rust’s large hand reached over to encase your shaking one to garner your attention. Looking up you weren’t met with pity or disgust, but with recognition. One shared in the experience of grief. Of having something meant to be so precious ripped from you in the cruelest of ways. He didn’t feel sorry for you. He understood you. More than anyone else had or could.

“You’re enough for me, Rust. I don’t know if you’ve noticed by now but there’s not much you can do to send me runnin’ for the hills. I like you as you are and I don’t need more. I wouldn’t expect you to change your mind over somethin’ like that anyway. It just wouldn’t be fair to ask.” His eyes glazed over at your words and he had to let go of the troubled breath he’d been holding. He brought your hand to his lips and kept them there as an unspoken thank you.

After a moment or two he set your hand back on the tabletop, still grasped in his.

“How about we find some shitty dive and let loose over there. This place is startin’ to feel a lil’ too stuffy for me.” Your light-hearted jab made the corner of his lips quirk up before he nodded,

“Yes, ma'am.”

—

After a relaxing drive accompanied by the tunes of Willie Nelson in search of a dive bar that was sufficient enough, the ice from all the worries of earlier had melted as fast as they had formed. The establishment you ended up coming across was a more than welcome change of pace compared to that of the restaurant (as lovely as it was). It wasn’t big by any means but there was room to dance and plenty of open spots to sit around and drink.

You looped your arm through his and leaned into his side as you made your way to settle down. There wasn’t enough time or clarity earlier to truly appreciate just how good he looked for the occasion but now you had all the time in the world to shamelessly ogle.

He’d donned a black dress shirt, forgoing a tie and leaving a few buttons undone in a way that had you feeling dizzy, as well as a nice fitting pair of jeans that had plenty of passersby’s eyes glued to his shapely form.

“The ladies of Louisiana might just beat me up for a chance with you. If your face ain’t motivation enough your ass surely will be.” You nudged him and he shook his head mirthfully.

“One would say jealousy is unbecoming.”

“Who said anythin’ about jealousy? I’ve earned my stake in claimin’ you as eye candy fair and square. They can try all they want but they were just too slow to the draw.”

“With your pension for being scrappy, I’d say they wouldn’t have much of a chance to begin with.”

“Gee, is that the only reason they don’t stand a chance?” You quirked a brow. You knew the answer but pestering him to fess up hardly ever got you far.

“What d’ya wanna drink, Miss Envy.” He drawled, not one to fall into your traps so easily and you flicked him with narrowed eyes.

“Last time I checked my name don’t even come close to rhymin’ with envy so you can quit with that.”

The shithead just smirked.

“I’ll take a jack and coke. Now run along.” You waved him away and he just shook his head. In his short absence you’d found a high top and decided to claim as your territory for the night. The music was clearer over this way and your heart jumped at the beginning notes of Fleetwood Mac’s Beautiful Child.

Upon his return, Rust had hardly been able to set the drinks down before you were grabbing at him to park yourselves out on the dancefloor. A few other couples were swaying in place so you figured it wouldn’t be all that awkward to steal a moment for yourselves.

It was strange, being able to be so open in your affections without the curious eyes of Marty or anyone else from the precinct to make judgments. You could just be yourselves. It was a breath of fresh air after all this time.

As the song gained momentum, you wrapped your arms around his neck, toying with the hairs at his nape while his strong ones made home around your waist to pull you in closer. A small spark of pride lit up your chest at him being able to be this comfortable with you.

As you rested your head along the expanse of his chest you felt the feather-light stamp of his kiss at your crown. The tenderness of the simple act almost had you turning into one hell of a mush puddle. You settled on burrowing deeper if that were any more possible as Stevie sang on. Fighting the effect he had on you was always going to be a losing battle.

You wouldn’t trade this moment for a damned thing.

—

It was nearing almost three in the morning by the time you arrived back home. Your mind had been pleasantly warmed by the drinks and all the dancing. Rust even seemed to have a newfound glow to him and it was triggering something innately carnal in you.

Taking an opportunity from the pocket of silence, you scooted along the Ford’s bench seat to make a place for yourself along his lap.

The relaxed daze displayed across his features was something you’d never had the pleasure of seeing before. It was nothing like the faraway trance he’d trap himself in with all the pills and whatnot in fruitless efforts of chasing undisturbed sleep. No, this was true content.

“I had a good time.” You didn’t mean to sound so coy but it couldn’t be helped as your hands crept up to frame his fine face.

“That’s good. I’m glad.” He hummed as he took in every feature your beautiful face had to offer. It was like striking gold. Especially in this expansive wasteland of a state.

“When we get a chance we should do it again. S’nice to go out…feel normal…” Hair lying in his line of light distracted you as you moved it out of the way with a gentle sweep. The truck’s cab could probably burst with the steadily increasing tension so you did what any normal woman would do with such a man in front of them and kissed him with all you had.

It started out syrupy and languid as if you had all the time in the world to be out macking in the car like a pair of careless teenagers. Your skin hummed like a live wire at his sudden grasp on the plush fat of your hips which served as the green light to go further.

Your delicate fingers carded through his soft waves as the muscle of his tongue took dominance over the kiss. A meek whimper cracked within your throat as you tried to keep up with what little oxygen you had remaining. When Rust kissed, it was all-consuming. It was no act he took passively when it came to you which had been made crystal clear to you by now. With each pass of his wet-hot caress, you could feel everything he wanted to say to you without complication of expression through words.

His mouth traveled across the apple of your cheek down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking with such lax reverence it had you arching as if you could fuse your ribs with his. Souls to be permanently intertwined.

With a starting grind of your hips that your body had no willpower to control you could feel him hardening with each intensifying roll. His choked moan had you remembering where you were and you’d be damned if your first actual night with him was in this old, damned truck right outside your house.

“D’ya wanna take this inside?” You offered in a breathless huff, trying to catch your breath in vain. You’re sure that even in the dark of the truck’s cabin the heat of your face could set the whole space aglow. He nipped at your bottom lip and soothed it with another peck,

“I would.”

The sudden tangle of limbs clambering to make haste towards the beacon of your front door would’ve been downright hysterical had you any hubris.

a/n: sorry to blue ball you lmao. I HOPE THIS WASN'T CRINGE AHHHHH. i'll probably come back and edit this later. feedback is always appreciated!

#reds-writings #rust cohle #true detective #true detective season 1 #rust cohle x reader #writer blog #rust cohle imagine #true detective imagine #matthew mcconaughey #jj universe

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syd-djarin · 1 year ago

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Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter two: sex and candy

*18+ minors DNI*

tags: mentions of anxiety, religious shame/guilt, reader being insecure, mentions of (negative) past sexual experiences and partners, brief mention of alcohol consumption, v fingering, oral (f receiving) joel is a cunnilinguist, 2000’s nostalgia, mentions of the patriarchy (booooo) squirting (sue me), Joel-Land™️™️™️

reader has hair that she fidgets with, "grows warm" /"cheeks burning" but not necessarily blushing, with embarrassment - minor edits to make this more inclusive for my readers <3

word count: ~4.5k

Author/s notes: Sorry it took longer to get ch. 2 out than I anticipated. I've had a lot going on in my personal life (I got a new job!) But I promise it won't be as long for ch. 3 hehe. this is a lengthy chapter, hope y'all enjoy!!

had to name reader's bestie after my dear friend @katiexpunk <3 thanks for always letting me run ideas by you and being a peach in general.

and thank you to @softiedingo for being a beta reader as well <333

It has been two weeks since you introduced yourself to Joel and Sarah. You hate to admit it, but you haven’t been able to stop thinking about Joel. Your mind will stay preoccupied temporarily, then they circle back to him.

Throwing clothes in the washer? Joel.

Boiling water for pasta? Joel.

Doing the dishes? Joel.

In the shower? Yep, definitely Joel.

And this morning is no different.

You’re staring at yourself in your bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth, mind deep into Joel-Land, then your thoughts take a sharp turn - for the worst. You’re thinking about all of your past sexual encounters.

How unsatisfying and selfish your past partners were. You hadn’t been romantically involved with any of your past partners, all of them casual-no-strings-attached type of arrangements.

Even if the sex was casual, did that mean the pleasure had to be one-sided? Of course not.

However, after each encounter you found yourself feeling disappointed, and truthfully, it made you feel…..icky. Was it religious shame? Even though you don’t participate or believe in any religion anymore, your formative years were spent in a conservative, Christian church; where sex is bad, and sin is bad. And you don’t want to be bad, because you will go to hell. You don’t even believe in hell, yet, there is a small voice in your head that still worries about eternal damnation. Jeez, I should really see a therapist about that.

Perhaps it’s the misogyny and sexism, rampant and hard-wired into society and into mind’s since the beginning of time.

Your internal theological and philosophical debate gives you a throbbing headache.

+++

It’s Friday. Halloween falls on a Tuesday this year, so most Halloween celebrations would occur this weekend.

If you were still in college, you’d most likely attend a costume party at a frat party and drink until the sun came up. These days, you don’t recover from hangovers as easily and find the anxiety spiral that follows a night of drinking to be too debilitating so you’re planning on keeping it chill this year.

You’re pouring out a bag of candy into a bowl, so candy is easily accessible for your sweet tooth cravings when you hear a strong, loud cluster of knocks at your front door.

Knock. Knock. Knock-knock.

Shaking off your initial startling from the sudden knocks, you open your front door to find Joel. He’s leaning his shoulder on the doorframe, one half of his body bears all his weight. He swiftly straightens upright again when you greet him. He looks even more handsome from the last time you saw him. He’s wearing dark wash jeans that accentuate his body in the most delectable way and a black t-shirt with a faded MILLER CONSTRUCTION graphic that is just barely legible.

You have the urge to steal the well-worn shirt so you can sleep in it, relish his scent, and let it become a metaphorical embrace of Joel.

Fuck, I really am down bad, you internally scold yourself to come back to the present moment.

“Joel! Ho-how are you?” you manage to creak out through nerves and surprise.

His beautiful, dark brown eyes are staring right into yours. His eyes could compel you to do anything.

“I’m doin’ alright, you?” The word ‘alright’ is drawn out making it sound like “awllll-right”

“Can’t complain. Y’all settling in okay?” tilting your head unconsciously, as if to convey genuinity.

“Oh yeah, ‘s a nice neighborhood. Sarah seems to be enjoyin’ her new school, I was a lil worried she’d have a hard time but she’s a smart kid and gets along with pretty much everyone. Awful silly of me to worry in the first place…” he’s rambling, hands moving at the same pace as his speech.

You find his rambling to be cute, it’s a bit of a juxtaposition from his strong, demanding presence.

Joel realizes he’s nervous after he concludes his tangent. When’s the last time he felt nervous around women? Especially a sweet, non-threatening woman like you?

“Anywho, I came over to uh- ask you somethin’... Sarah liked your cookies so much she wants to learn how to make them herself and was wondering if you’d teach her?”

“I’d love to!” You shoot him a flattered smile, learning that Sarah wanted you to teach her to bake makes your heart sing.

Joel is amazed at you. You agreed to teach a twelve year old, one who you hardly know, to bake. He shouldn’t be surprised given your sweet demeanor and generous heart, but he’s in awe of you.

“You sure? I mean, you obviously don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“Joel, I’d be honored to. Send her over in an hour,” you cut him off, hoping to convey your delight in teaching someone else to bake, the same way your grandma did for you.

Joel can’t stop the shit-eating grin that appears on his face.

“Sounds good. I’ll send her your way, sweetheart,” he lingers just for a moment to watch your reaction to the nickname, the one he’s used twice.

You desperately try to keep your composure cool and collected, but you’ve never had a good poker face. You wear your emotions like an accessory. And right now, you are flustered. You divert your attention to the ground as if looking into his eyes would expose your every thought.

“O-okay!” You can barely stammer out a response before he is pivoting off your porch, back to his own house.

You can’t see it with his back turned to you, but Joel is smirking to himself and feeling amused at his effect on you.

+++

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

“Yes, dad. I don’t need a chaperone to bake cookies. I’m a big girl now, remember?”

Yes, he is acutely aware that she is a big girl now. Well, not really, to him she will always be his baby girl, but that doesn’t stop her from growing up. Too fast for his liking. The idea of her becoming a teenager almost gives him a coronary. It won’t be long before she’s driving, then graduating, and college. What if she wants to attend a school in another state? Across the country?

He feels queasy at that thought, afraid that she will grow out of thinking her dad is the coolest, afraid that she doesn’t want to spend time with her old man anymore.

He wills himself to think about something else. Anything else. Inevitably his thoughts wander to you.

Joel hates to admit it, but he was hoping to join Sarah for the baking lesson. He wants an excuse to be in your radiant, sweet, beautiful presence again.

While you can’t stop thinking about him, he can’t stop thinking about you.

Driving home from work? You.

Making dinner? You.

Making his morning coffee? You.

Laying in bed? Oh, yeah. Definitely you.

Exactly one hour passes when Sarah arrives at your house. You’ve already set up in your kitchen in preparation; already pre-measured the ingredients, setting out all the necessary baking equipment and you even found a spare apron for Sarah to wear. Ya know, to give her the full experience.

“Oooh, this apron makes me feel like a professional!” Sarah exclaims after tying the strings on her designated apron.

“Well, after this, you will be.”

You can’t remember the last time you felt this much joy. Sharing a passion of yours with someone who is eager to learn from you delights your heart and soul in a way you didn’t know you needed until now.

“So first, we’ll need to combine the butter and sugar,” Sarah dumps the butter and sugar into the mixing bowl. “Great, now we want to beat the mixture until it looks fluffy.”

She is completely engrossed in watching for the desired texture, furrowing her brows together in a way that mimics Joel. You find it adorable.

“Excellent, now we are going to add in the eggs and vanilla extract.”

She follows your instructions to a T, meticulous and concentrated as if she were mixing hazardous chemicals in a lab.

“You’re doing great. Now let’s add our dry ingredients, half of it at a time.”

Her eyes light up when it’s time to fold in the chocolate chips. You both agree it’s the best part, both of you indulging in a few before adding them to the dough.

You assist Sarah in rolling the dough into little balls and placing them onto the baking sheet.

While waiting for the cookies to bake, you learn more about Sarah and Joel. She tells you about their old house, the camping trip they went on this past summer, the catchy pop songs on the radio that Joel will pretend to hate but she catches him humming the tune later, how Joel makes a big breakfast for the two of them every Sunday, a ritual they started when Sarah started school - he makes pancakes just for her.

Getting a snapshot of Joel and Sarah’s lives and their dynamic makes your mega crush on Joel that much bigger. From what Sarah has shared with you, he seems like a caring, protective yet fun dad. You’re aching to learn everything about him.

“Do you have any plans for Halloween?” Sarah asks as you’re pulling the baking sheet out of the oven.

“Oh um, I usually just hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. Nothing super exciting. What about you?”

“We always order pizza and watch a scary movie - nothing super scary though. We dress up too. Well, I dress up but dad thinks he is too cool to do that so he wears the same boring mask every year,” she has a mischievous grin on her face, concocting a plan when she asks, “do you want to come over and join us?”

On one hand you’d love nothing more than to spend more time with your new friend and Joel, but on the other hand the thought of being in the same room as Joel, in his house, makes you both anxious and aroused. Dizzy, nervous, and horny makes for an unpleasant combination.

Gaining a sliver of bravery, you swallow your apprehension and say yes.

“Sure, yeah, what time should I come over?”

“6:30. And you better wear a costume!”

+++

You’ve spent the past hour trying to put a costume together. Not making any progress, you decide to seek external advice - your best friend Katie.

You both met as freshman and have been close friends ever since, even rooming together in your first off-campus apartment. She moved to the West Coast shortly after graduation, though you still keep in touch via email and phone. You give her the scoop on Joel - him moving into the neighborhood, your gigantic crush on him, how you baked cookies with Sarah yesterday. She’s impatiently waiting for you to bone your hot neighbor. Girl, I’m waiting too.

“Do you still have that bunny costume you wore junior year?”

You rummage through your tote of seasonal clothing in search of said costume. Pulling it out, you now realize just how skimpy the costume really is. Bunny ears and a tail paired with a skin tight black bodysuit leaves virtually nothing to the imagination and definitely too much skin for this occasion.

“Dude, I can’t wear this! His daughter will be there! I can’t believe I wore this out in public. This is X-Rated,” you’re growing agitated in having no success in your costume, to the point that you are tempted to tell Sarah you came down with something so you don’t have to go.

“Okay, okay, the ears and tail are still salvageable. Do you have something besides the bodysuit?”

“Ummm…” you trail off into the phone, frantically searching for something to replace the risque bodysuit. You find a plain white baby tee amongst the sea of clothing, deciding you can pair it with your favorite jeans, the ones that accentuate your body in all the right places.

“This could work..” muttering to yourself when a devious thought pops into your head. White shirt, no bra.

“Found it! Gotta go, loveyoubye!” You hang up the call before Katie has a chance to respond, tossing your pink Razr on your bed. Your body hums in anticipation and jitters, feeling emboldened by your no bra plot.

After throwing on your outfit, you style your hair differently than you normally do. You add several coats of mascara to your lashes, sweep on some blush that complements your skin and add a sparkly lip gloss to your lips, making them appear extra plump and juicy.

You grab a bag of Halloween candy and you practically skip across the street. Reaching the front door of your new bestie and her gorgeous dad, your confidence is replaced with a furious ball of anxiety. Your heart is palpitating and you feel your stomach churn.

Would Joel think you looked stupid? Or worse, childish? Fuck, you should’ve stayed home.

Joel opening the door snaps you out of your thought spiral but only briefly, because he’s staring at you like you’ve started growing extra limbs. He looks both puzzled and pissed?

“What uh-what’re you doing here?”

His voice has a sharpness you haven’t heard before and it stings.

You have a moment of realization.

Sarah didn’t run the invitation by her dad.

You deduct that he isn’t a fan of surprises.

Before you can formulate a response, Sarah saves you from having to do so.

“You dressed up! I’m glad you came,” she squeals while wrapping her arms around your middle in an embrace.

She looks up at Joel from where she’s latched onto you and gives her confused dad an explanation.

“Dad, it’s okay, I invited her.”

That seems to alleviate his confusion. You, on the other hand, not so much. You’re internally screaming at yourself. It’s obvious to you that Joel wasn’t expecting you, and in conclusion, doesn’t want you here.

“I didn’t mean to impose, I—I’m sorry, I’ll uh— just go back home,” fighting back tears of embarrassment, looking everywhere except at Joel. You think now is a superb time to move across the country, change your name, dye your hair, somewhere far away from this humiliation.

Joel senses you’re feeling rejected in some way.

“No, no, come on in. Jus’ wasn’t expectin’ you s’all,” he gives you his most reassuring smile.

You swallow the lump of emotions in your throat.

He didn’t expect you to come over, nor did he expect you’d show up as his personal version of a Playboy bunny. He almost busted in his jeans when he could see your nipples through your very thin white t-shirt. He thinks you’re trying to kill him.

+++

You’re starting to relax once you three settle on the couch, Sarah nestling between you and Joel, Alien on the TV. Turns out, you and Joel share a love for the film. You may or may not have gotten into a heated (playful) debate about the other films in the franchise.

Joel gets an influx of trick-or-treaters, more than you usually get, residents of the neighborhood taking advantage of this opportunity to be nosy. Again.

In between costume clad visitors, you sneak glances at Joel, who looks absolutely scrumptious tonight. His hair had been damp and combed back when you arrived, his curls now almost dry and in all their glory. He’s wearing an obviously well-loved, faded Pearl Jam concert tee that clings to his arms and grey sweatpants that sit dangerously low on his hips. You wonder if all his shirts fit like that. When he stands, you can see the outline of his dick through his sweatpants. You have to manually restrain yourself from pouncing on him. You’re soaking through your panties and you’re a little worried that if you stand, the seat beneath you will be soaked too.

The scent of his body wash invades your nostrils, a heavenly mix of sandalwood and cinnamon. You’re imagining yourself running your hands through his hair and burying your nose into his neck, alternating between kissing and sucking on the skin there. You want to taste every inch of his skin, taking your time to savor him.

Joel’s stealing glances at you, too. He’s never seen someone look so sweet and seductive, divine even. You smell warm and sweet, amber and vanilla. Not the artificial, manufactured type vanilla scent, it’s like vanilla straight from the bean. When you readjust your position on the couch to get more comfortable, your tits lightly bounce, unrestrained by a bra. He has to stifle a groan, disguising it as a cough. He wonders how much they’d bounce if you were riding his cock. Your lips are absolutely sinful. Pouty and plump, juicy from the lip gloss. The bunny ears are the nail in his coffin. He’s picturing you bent over on his couch, still wearing the bunny ears as he devours your pussy from behind.

Only a quarter of the way through the movie, a few of Sarah’s friends from her old school pop in to invite her over for an impromptu sleepover to which Joel agrees to, since they no longer go to school together.

Which means you and Joel are left alone. Together. Your body is aching to close space between you and the man you’re enamored with. You don’t know that Joel is itching to do the same.

“Sarah couldn’t stop talkin’ bout yesterday. She loved hangin’ out with ya, thanks again for doin’ that.”

“She’s welcome to come over anytime. She’s a sweet kid,” you’re beaming at the fact she enjoyed baking with you. Joel notices the way your eyes gleam, overflowing with delight.

You finally have the courage to meet his eyes. The way his eyes are raking over your entire body makes your clit throb in anticipation. Your heartbeat is erratic, thumping loudly in your ears.

The energy in the room is magnetic, pulling you and Joel closer together.

“You can uh-scoot closer t’me if ya want,” he gruffs out, beckoning you to scoot closer to him. Joel wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you make him feel like a flustered teenage boy about to kiss a girl for the first time.

You scoot closer to Joel, hoping he doesn’t notice your body trembling from nerves.

With your body flush next to his, he stretches one of his toned arms behind your head, resting it on the back of the couch. You can feel the warmth radiating from his body and it sends a shiver down your spine, straight to your aching core.

The tension in the air is palpable, both of your bodies buzzing in arousal. You’re both pretending to watch the movie in front of you, but your minds are elsewhere. He gently removes his arm from the couch and rests it across your shoulders. It’s a seemingly innocuous gesture, but its impact makes you clench around nothing, more arousal dripping into your panties.

He leans his head down close to yours, his mouth behind your ear.

“No bra? You’re a naughty lil bunny aren’t ya?” His hot breath tickles your ear, your eyes clamp shut involuntarily and you whimper. A high-pitched, whiny whimper, and Joel’s never heard anything sweeter.

He places his other large palm on your thigh, gently squeezing it. Your skin prickling in goosebumps and your nipples are hard enough to cut glass. The wetness pooled in your panties is beyond the point of comfort.

Joel presses a chaste kiss behind your ear, eliciting another whimper from you. He peppers kisses from your neck all the way to your collarbones.

“This okay?”

“Mhmmm…” You’re already so keyed up you feel hazy. Your whole body feels hot, lit aflame by Joel’s lips on your skin.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he rasps while his hand is caressing your thigh, intentionally not too close to where you want him. Need him.

“Mhmmm,” you moan, still unable to form words, arousal taking over all of your bodily functions.

“Need you to use your words, honey.” He squeezes your thigh again.

He pulls his face back from your neck to look you in the eyes, and slows his movements on your thigh so you can tell him to back off or give him the green light to continue. You grab his hand on your thigh and squeeze it, to keep him from removing it.

“Joel, pleeease. Want it so bad. Need you so fuckin’ bad.”

You beg in the most sultry voice you can muster, emphasizing every syllable.

Your lust laden eyes and the way you mewl for him ignites something ravenous, primal, carnal in him. He hasn’t heard you cuss before and it sounds so filthy in your honeyed voice. His rock hard cock twitches in his pants.

He presses his plush lips against yours. It’s hesitant at first, but his apprehension dissipates when you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back with fervor. Joel deepens the kiss, one hand gripping your hip, the other hand splayed between your shoulder blades, pressing your body further into his. You tangle one of your hands in his luscious curls. He tastes like sweet peppermint and a hint of black coffee. You feel dizzy, tasting him, finally feeling him.

He breaks the kiss, guiding you to lie down on your back and props your head up on one of the couch armrests.

He’s looking down at you and he’s never seen anything more beautiful. You’re always pretty, effortlessly so. But seeing you underneath him, sweet and desperate for him? He’d do anything you ask him to.

“You’re the prettiest lil bunny. So fuckin’ pretty.”

You’re bashful under his gaze and his compliment, cheeks burning.

Joel notices you trying to shy away and he places a thumb under your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.

Now you feel embarrassed for trying to shy away in the first place.

“Sorry I’m—”

“Nothing to ‘pologize for, sweetheart,” he’s caressing your chin with his thumb, alleviating all of the embarrassment from you.

“Wanna taste you. You’ve no idea how bad I’ve wanted to taste you. Needed to know if you were as sweet as your cookies.”

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out, “yes - yes please, taste me, Joel”

He chuckles softly at your enthusiasm and promptly rids you of your jeans, making the leather of the couch feel cool to the back of your thighs.

Joel lets out a guttural moan when he sees your sky blue satin panties soaked through. He runs a finger over the damp spot, making you quiver. His touch is featherlight and it’s maddening. You’re squirming, hips lifting off the couch, chasing for more.

He obliges, running a finger over your clit with added pressure.

“Joel, please–” You’re a whiny mess under him, and he’s just getting started. He’s rubbing gentle circles over your bud, still-panty clad.

He presses a kiss on your belly, just below your navel. The tenderness makes your body shudder.

He finally removes your panties and you gasp when the cool air hits your throbbing pussy.

“Pretty girl with a pretty pussy to match.” Joel’s admiring the way your pussy is glistening for him, begging to be touched.

He runs a finger through your drenched seam, your juices dripping onto his thick digit. He licks his finger, then shoves it into his mouth so he can taste every drop. His eyes clamp shut, groaning at how you taste. You commit the image to memory, not wanting to forget how he looks and sounds when he tastes you for the first time.

“Knew you’d taste sweet. So fuckin’ sweet.”

Your brain short circuits when you realize that means he’s thought about this before. That he’s imagined how you’d taste. Picturing him fantasizing about you makes you light-headed.

Joel spreads your legs wider, giving him full access to your pussy. He dives in without warning, licking from entrance up to your clit.

“Fuck, Joel!” You hoarsely shout with one hand gripping the couch cushion and one tugging onto Joel’s messy curls. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your pussy as you grind your hips into his mouth, desperate for release.

You see stars while he expertly alternates between flicking his tongue and sucking on your clit. He’s keeping a steady rhythm, on the slower side, taking his time pleasuring you. He’s enjoying this.

Obscene sounds fill the room; Joel devouring your pussy like it’s the Last Supper and your chorus of moans and expletives.

“Fuck, don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop!”

“Shitshitshit–”

“Joelllll-”

He picks up the pace, your fingers cramping from their deathgrip on the couch. You feel your peak approaching - sweat beading on your forehead, chest heaving, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Joel senses your approaching release and pushes one of his thick, dexterous fingers into your weeping hole.

He reaches for your hand that’s tangled in his hair and intertwines your fingers with his, resting your connected hands on your inner thigh. It’s overwhelming; the intimacy of your interlocked fingers paired with the filthy onslaught of his mouth.

He speeds up as he adds another finger, hitting the spot that no one except you has reached before. You never knew it could feel this amazing. You thought you were doomed to a life of bad sex.

Apparently, you just needed Joel to show you differently. And you are so glad he proved you wrong.

Joel hooks his fingers inside you bringing you closer and closer to that peak you’ve been dying to reach. You’re squeezing his fingers, both the ones inside you and the ones interlaced with yours.

“Joel I-I’m close,” you manage to choke out, mind foggy from the intense pleasure.

He sucks on your clit, hard and you’re coming, entering a euphoric plane of existence. You’re floating, body trembling, coming harder than you’ve ever come before.

Joel slows his fingers and removes his mouth from your pussy, beard glistening with your release, gently bringing you back to reality. He keeps your fingers locked with his, grounding you in the present.

The orgasmic fog clears from your brain, regaining awareness of your surroundings when you feel how drenched your lower half is. Like, really drenched. You lift your head from the armrest and look down and you’re appalled by the scene.

You fucking squirted. Everywhere.

On yourself, on the couch, on Joel. His beard is soaked completely, to the point it’s dripping down his chin. He’s just as stunned as you are.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, fuck I-” you’re scrambling to get off the couch and Joel grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

“What’re you sorry for? That was so fuckin’ hot, sweetheart.”

“I-I didn’t know I could do that…”

“Oh yeah? First time ever squirtin’?

“Yeah, the first time anyone else has made me come… like, ever.”

His gaze goes dark.

You get the feeling that he’s just getting started with you.

And just like your cookies, he’d never have enough.

THE END

#joel miller #joel fic #joel x f!reader #fanfic #first fanfic #joel miller is babygirl #joel miller smut

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dragonridernoobie · 5 months ago

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Hello again my friend I've been getting really into BioShock it's a really old game that was released in like 2007 I think like a really long time ago and so there's these kind of mechanical semi-human things called a Big Daddy's basically either humans that were stripped away of all of their memories and stuff and basically is a protector to the little sisters that gather Adam which is basically stuff that gives you powers by the parasite implanted into the little girls basically it's a dystopian underwater city and I was wondering maybe some of the Autobots and possibly decepticons (you can choose either one but please have Optimus or Megatron ) and I was wondering if they could meet a reader who was basically a big daddy with the drill and everything and able to control all the plasmids and stuff (sorry if my ask is a little lengthy)

Ok 2 things. 1, I already wrote this but tumblr broke and now I have to do it all again and I wrote a long one to so FUCK YOU TUMBLR!!!! 2nd, there are no such thing as to long of a reqest. So, with this bioshock big daddy thing. I watched a video that explained them and I based off that and how I think it would act. Since I never played or seen the game before. So I hope you enjoy!!!!

TFP Autobots X Mutant Reader

Wanring: mention of experiments, death, and gore.

Optimus was stressed. He was stressed by everything. He was fighting the decpticons and MECH. He didn't know what to do but only to keep going forward. While he was in base, ratchet went up to him with a detapad.

"We have found a single in the ocean. We think it's a cybertronian artifact." "Very well, thank you, ratchet. Prepare the ground bridge." Optimus radios Bumblebee, bulkhead, and smokescreen. They arrive all ready to go

"aww ya! We are about to kick some decpticon pipe!" "Smokescreen, you are going to the bottom of the ocean. You need to be careful since one wrong thing, and you will be crushed by the force!" Ratchet was too quick to calm smokescreen down. Miko runs up to bulkhead but he quickly stops her "no, nuh uh, there's no oxygen in the ocean and we don't have oxygen tanks so you can't come." "Awwwwwwww" miko hangs her head low but nods. She goes back where jack and raph are at.

"Start the groundbridge ratchet." Ratchrt nods and pulls the lever. "Becarful, if one of you get crushed, there is no way of bringing you back." The team nods and runs through the groundbridge. Soon making it on the other side where they stand infront of empty ocean, only filled with rocks, sand, and more.

Optimus pushes his side of his helm to activate the voice channel. "Remmber, we can't speak underwater, so use these voice channels so we can speak through our helms." The teams nod and follow optimus very slowly through the water. After a while, the see lights ahead, though it was very murky. "Optimus, lights!" "I see bulkhead. It seems to be some underwater city." "Bzzzz oooooopppp?" (William Fowler never said they had underwater citys) "they don't Bumblebee, let's keep moving. That's where the single is at."

The team nods and continues to walk toward it. They soon get to the city and enter one of the many large city's. Once they were in a water free room, smokescreen spoke first. "WOW! This place is huge! I mean, look at this stuff! It's so old and rust!" "Pay attention smokescreen. We are on a mission." Bulkhead tells smokescreen with a stern voice.

The team walks further and further down the doors and hallways but soon stops in front of a huge window that looks towards the ocean. Right, but there, they see a weird creature. It had a drill but was repairing the building. "What is that?" Bulkhead says, clearly freaked out. "Ahould we say hi? I'm going to say hi!" Optimus puts hi hand on smokescreens shoulder "no, we do not know if it's friend or foe. We should continue our mission." Smokescreen sighs but nods. Everyone walked and soon entered a room where the single was.

"The artifact is in this room." "Optimus, look!" Bulkhead points to a bunch of dead humans near the edge of the room. They all seem to be killed in a brutal way. Some of them where gutted, some of them where missing limbs or heads, or are just cut in half. "Bzzzzzzz" (i don't want to be here any more....) "I agree with Bumblebee. Miko and I have seen enough horror movies to know somone is gonna die!" "Calm youreself. What humans make are not real." Optimus says and he continues to walk toward the edge of the room where the wall is.

"Bzzzzzzz" (the scanner says the artifact is on the other side) "The let's break it!" Bulkhead pulls out his wrecker ball. "No, we are surrounded by water. We do not want to cause more damage." Bulkhead sighs but puts his blasters away. When optimus was about to figure out how tingen the artifact, he hears guns being aimed. He and the autobots turn and find Silas there, with few of his men aiming at them.

"Well, well, well, dident know you autobots will he here." "Silas, why are you here." Optimus says while he aims his blaster at them. "Why do you think? I'm here to get that artifact of you'res." "You are not getting this artifact." "So be it, fire!" His squad fires at optimus and the autobots. The autobots take cover and watch as MECH shoot holes into the wall, causing water to spray in.

"Stop! You are gonna kill youreselfs!" "If it means taking you down, so be it." Silas says while he keeps shooting. Suddenly, everyone hears drilling and some MECH grunts further in the building screaming. "What the hell is going on out there?!?!" Silas yells at his men while he keeps shooting at the autobots. "There's a strange Mutant!" Before anyone could respawn, a MECH grunt get thrown through a wall and into the room.

There, in the hole in the wall, is a big daddy. He had a drill and a gun for hands, and his eyes were red. "Definitely foe, definitely Foe!!!" Smokescreen screams while looking at the Mutant in horror. The Mutant charges forward and attacks the MECH grunts who are shooting at it. Drilling and shooting them. The autobots watch in horror how this Mutant is killing them all. When the mutant looks toward the autobots way, the team asks their blaster at it, but optimus stops them. "Stop, it's only attacking people who are damaging the buildings or shooting at it." When the team hesitates, he nods his head. They lower their wepons and watch the Mutant change it's attention back on MECH, who was still shooting at it.

They watch it attack MECH going through them like nothing. Optimus singles them to get the artifact. They go up to the wall and find a lever. There, they open the wall and there is the artifact. When the team tries to flea, they are met with the mutant corning Silas who was shooting at it. They watch in horror as the Mutant drills into Silas, his screams echoing off the walls. Soon he dies. When the Mutant looks at them they freeze. It just stairs and it's eyes go back to normal. It then just walks away.

"Ratchet, groundbridge... we got the artifact..." When ratchet opens it, they go through and tell ratchet and William Fowler everything. Fowler sends a team to get the Mutant and finds out it was created by the Russians who lost control of it and killed all of its scientists. It was taken back to the USA, and worked on. They made it where it could think but not speak. The autobots welcome it and it joins the team. They find out the name of there new Ally.

(Y/N).

Hope you loved this!!! This is what a big daddy looks like for anyone who doesn't know what it looks like.

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goldenshrikecomic · 1 month ago

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Hello, this is gonna be a long one and I hope I don't bother you too much with it but you have something great going and and I think maybe some advice for someone like me who wants to do a longer comic and I took heart in that one ask you recently answered were you said you are plenty of pages ahead of the readers to not get paralysed by a deadline which seems like a no-brainer now that I read that with my own two eyes black on white but I had not thought to maybe go about it that way and I needed to have someone spell it out for me apparently. So to my question.. see, I have a skeleton of a story I have key scenes that need to happen and that I want to happen and I am sure in between things will shift and change and grow and a part of me can't wait for it to happen but- How do you start. How do you get going. It is in my head I have some written notes but most is in my head and I do not want it to remain there and rot I want to draw and tell the story I had in mind but I feel.. paralysed on the starting line of this journey and I am unsure how to go from there because my mind gets caught up in estimates of if I post one page a week that is "only" 52 pages. That seems so little. How many years would it take. Can I do this. And then my mind fires up in passion because I am willing to commit I want to do this I need to do this and I have a good idea of how to pace myself and how to go about it. I have the beginning of it on the back of my tongue and the tip of my fingers I can imagine it so vividly I wish I could animate it (if that wouldn't take up even more time and be insane I would) But somehow I still feel stumped on how to start. How to get over this first hurdle. It might be the executional dysfunction playing a huge part in it, maybe I am overthinking to much and stand in my way because of it, but like... How did you start your comic. How did your journey on GS begin? I know this was a bit of word vomit I am sorry but you are an inspiration and you seem to go about things (from what I could gleam from the asks) in a way that feels like it could work for me too and the way my brain functions but I do not know how to start? I dunno if it makes sense I am no english native and my thoughts are hard to put into words.

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for a while because it's such a loaded question. I have plenty of asks in this tag about my comicing process, so check them out maybe. This reply got lengthy! The more I wrote the more I noticed I feel very inadequate trying to give people tips on making comics. It's such a trial and error process.

I've seen plenty of advice for people wanting to start out comics to just start small, come up with a smaller story to get a feel of it before you go big. And I absolutely understand it in hindsight because I would've done many things differently if I had just tried it out first, but it's not what I did. I wanted to make a big comic, and a big comic I made, as my first project.

I don't think about the years these things take, but it'd absolutely ease your worries if you could come up with a simple style and be able to make pages faster. I've stripped my comic of shading and gotten more lenient with myself when it comes to backgrounds. You absolutely need to cut some corners if you want to make more than one story during your lifetime. It's a limited time afterall! Being able to turn your sketch into a lineart without having to redo everything with a careful hand would help a lot already. And colors, they take a lot of time.

This is not how I went about it in the beginning, but I'd love to tell you to write those things in your head down before you start. Leave holes, just write in what you know because you will forget some cool details if you keep them in. Write the starting point, middle and the end, even with just couple of words. Add things that interest you in the middle of those points. Do you want a sad arc for your character at some point? Write it in. Come up with what makes it happen. Weave it into the other scenes. If you know what's to come, you can add foreshadowing to the earlier scenes. Even if you didn't know what would come, you can take something from earlier scenes and make it foreshadowing. Writing is a fluid process. You can jump around and add things, you don't have to approach it by putting one block next to the other. Once you have the elements you want, you just have to tie those things together. It's the hard part. And you will change your mind about many things when you get to draw your characters and see them doing the things you've written.

The start! I always say it's the worst part, but I've started to think it might be the second worst. I think the worst part comes after you've started and worked for several ten pages on fumes and you finally run out of juice. Picking up after that is hard, for me at least. But if you can manage, it should get easier. You know your characters better by now, and they carry some of their own weight.

Make a canvas. Think about the scene you want to start your comic with. Night or day? Calm or busy? Just doodle, BIG and loose. Add some frames by just drawing lines, move things around, resize. What do you want to portray with the first page of your comic? I like to establish some of the world or atmosphere, and only then move on to the characters.

Don't try to be perfect, in fact leave that first canvas completely unpolished and move on to the next one. What should this page tell? Will you show the character? I'd leave the establishing shot of them as the last big panel. The rest of the page should build up to it. The last panel is important, it's a hook to turn the page.

Come back to polish those pages more only after you have a few of them done. The most important thing is to get yourself away from that first page, because the first page is scary. After five pages you can move things around and start adding ears to your spheres. You've started a comic now. You can go back to the first page and make it nice, because you already have opened the path to continue.

IT'S HARD. But it's rewarding. It's not for everyone but it's awesome if you can make it yours.

#ask #technical stuff

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factual-fantasy · 8 months ago

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Heya Factual! Congrats on the 23,000! Yet another well deserved milestone earned by your hard work and dedication! Really sorry about the cold- we always seem to get sick at the worst of times! Definitely don't do anything crazy till you're 100%, but thanks for making that really cute celebration piece- you can really tell how much the factual Fam cares about you from their worried expressions...and then there's Gerald, who refuses to let his happy demeanor waver for a second! Though then again, he is still quite young- he might not even understand the concept of getting sick yet!

And on that note, at least till you're better, I definitely won't send any unnecessarily exhausting Asks like last time ( thanks for answering that so thoroughly though- that was really cool! ) and just keep it simple- and my ask today is regarding the simplest Mario enemy, the goomba!

You've mentioned them in the past as beings created by Kamek- How does he do it? How long has he been doing it? Are the goombas sentient, or just savage constructs? How many are there, in ratio to the Koopas? Did the bros have to fight through a bunch of them on their way to the castle? And do any of their variants exist, such as the micro goombas, para goombas, or giant goombas? We require the Goomba Lore!

Thank you! :DD I'm doing my best to take it easy.. I've spent most of my days recently either sleeping, sitting, or playing Pokemon Scarlet XDD that's relaxing right? Yes, I believe so-

As for Gerald, he isn't ignorant to my condition- he's actually meant to be surprisingly emotionally aware. :0 He's smiling though all this because he wants the others to be happy. And if he's calm and smiling, maybe we'll smile too.. 🥺

I was intending to draw a comic that goes into Gerald's character a bit more... But I just haven't been well enough recently to take on a project like that.. :((

And don't worry about "exhausting asks", I encourage them! :D I could really use some lengthy asks as a form of distraction to be honest.. 🥹💔

Speaking of asks, about your Goomba questions..

Well, starting with Kamek actually- I have intentions to make him a few hundred years old. Being the most powerful magikoopa there ever was supposedly.. and he's been associated with the royal Koopa family for generations.. though this idea is in canon limbo, because I'm having trouble figuring how exactly he's managed to live so long. Considering how magic works in my au.. his lengthy life span shouldn't be possible..

None the less, even though I haven't gotten that idea to fit yet- I love it so much that most of the au kinda branches off from it- <XDDD so with that established, Kamek brings Goombas to "life" using magic of course!

I was thinking that the ability animate dead/inanimate things is a very complex magic that took Kamek years to learn. And he was only finally able to master it in the last 100 years or so.

Now for the Goombas, they are not sentient for sure. They are just these little.. zombie like.. machines. They start as poisonous mushrooms and when they are "brought to life", they gain this desire and need move and attack anything that doesn't appear to be a Koopa.

As for the Koopa to Goomba ratio.. I'd say they make up 1.5/10 of the kingdoms population. They are very disposable and "easy" to make.. but they are relatively fragile creatures and take a while to grow.. plus the Goombas don't live very long. Since they uproot themselves upon being "Goomba-fied", they eventually wilt and die.. :/ so that number doesn't ever go over 1.5.

I'm sure Mario and Luigi had to squash some on the way to save Peach the first time. But it was only after her rescue that one landed a bite on Luigi..

As for their variants, the micro and Giant Goombas surly exist! Though king Goomba might not because the original brown mushrooms probably don't grow that big-

As for para-goombas.. hmm.. I know there won't be any Goombas with wings going around. But perhaps there could be a Goomba that can release airborne spores.. or at the very least can attack from afar.. that could get them the title of para-goomba! :0

I think I covered everything, I hope at least-

Thank you for the ask and interest in my au! :DDD it was a nice read and took my mind off of all my ailments for a short time 🥹💖

#my response #super mario bros #i really gotta work on kameks plot holes #i want him to be super oldddd #being loyal to the koopa family for generations..#hes personally met them #all the family stories and secrets and grief this man knows...#OH OH ALSO #it would be so cool if he was 100s of years old and when you look closer at him you realize not much of his original body remains-#he would be so creepy and haunting #you'd wonder how much of this man is “kamek” and how much is a brainwashed drone meant to serve the king..#ooooo hes so fun i love kamek #i wanna draw him so baaadddd 😭😭💔

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not-poignant · 4 months ago

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Sorry this is so long I literally cannot help myself:

I’ve been a reader on ao3 for a long time. This year, for the sake of giving my brain something new and in order to be a mysterious hottie on the metro, I’ve challenged myself to read some published books. It has been a really fun and very interesting experience. I could write essays of personal and literary reflections.

But, favorite author mine, one difference I did not expect, and in hindsight it should have been obvious, was the vast, essentially ideological difference in what is called smut.

I started reading the Court of Thorns and Roses series and it’s good, I’m having a good time. But the thing is, everyone calls it faerie smut. And I guess it must be. When I heard faerie smut and decided to give the series a try, my faerie smut background came from ao3, namely fae tales and the ice plague.

“With each thrust I felt his love and saw the stars” really has nothing on “my entire family burnt and now my lover has his hands in my mouth and up my ass while he heats me up so thoroughly I’m basically delirious and then our sex mentor wine aunt was hungry and told me I was doing good while he drank my blood and his lover who is also the king casually reads nearby likely with bits of flesh stripped off him as an act of sacrificial love.”

The thing is, the sex scenes I’ve read in Sarah J. Maas’s series don’t really… do much. Regardless of crazy scenario, essentially every of the many erotic scenes in the fae tales verse either moves the plot forward, is essential to character development, or showcases emotional intimacy. (Which, tangent, is why you’re more recent works that generally showcase way less sexual content still feel so similar because the plot is still moving forward, characters are still developing, and the emotional intimacy is still so delectable.)

So anyway, reading book books has been really nice and a surprisingly reflective experience. I kinda forgot how little is considered scandalous by so many.

(And also, compared to ao3 which I usually read on my phone, it’s very difficult to read physical books while horizontal. Another plus for ebooks?)

Hi hi anon!

I'm glad you're enjoying the experience of reading 'book' books! :D I've heard many good things, and while I'm not likely to read it (I don't read cishet m/f if I'm not being forced to), I think it's awesome that it's going so viral and getting lots of folks into fantasy :D

As for the ACOTAR sex scenes, I haven't read them, but I feel like they fall into a certain kind of spicy sex scene being written right now that falls under 'explicit' for readers not used to seeing this stuff in fantasy, but absolutely kind of doesn't for people used to reading smut on AO3.

I find for myself, I can't handle these kinds of sex scenes because they're often over in like one or two pages and they feel very empty to me. They're not empty to many readers and I'm not trying to say they're empty overall, I just need a lot more emotionality, meatiness, and often character-based stakes.

Or I think about it this way: I've written sex scenes that are easily 6,000-9,000 words long. That's a tenth of a written standard-length novel. That's too long for novels. This is why you never see these kinds of sex scenes published anywhere except for erotica, and in erotica there's pressure to make the sex scenes shorter anyway. The only place where I know I can safely write sex to the length and breadth I want to is in serials, on AO3.

Authors in the mainstream book-writing world are kind of forced into a shape that fits the length of the book they're writing. If they write three very deep/lengthy sex scenes of the length that I write at, firstly they'd be thrown into the erotica dungeon (can no longer be searched for on most distribution websites), and secondly, that means they lose a lot of space for writing story, which for many of these writers does not happen during or because of sex scenes.

Authors can still sometimes write very hot sex scenes in a few hundred words, or one or two pages, don't get me wrong! But the vibe is different. I've never really liked sex scenes in anything published except for erotica, because it often feels... idk, like for example this line:

"“With each thrust I felt his love and saw the stars”"

Idk if this is canon to the book, but for me this means nothing. Why is the character feeling this way? What is it about the thrusts? What is it about the pose? Is it about eye contact? (And is this innately comfortable? How neurotypical is this character?) Undulation? Does he linger at the end? Is it because he circles his hips a certain way? Because that's not love, that's just talent.

I suppose for me, as a reader, I need explanations that let me understand why emotional shifts are happening in a sex scene. In the same way that I would need them in any other character change.

Other people I think can suspend their disbelief better and think 'wow that sounds amazing and hot.' I'm like 'I don't get it.'

And that's very much a me-problem! It's just a me-problem that I think I share with quite a lot of other readers, which is why we're all out here enjoying much longer sex scenes and then realise we can't really find them anywhere except for like... AO3, and some manhwa and manga and published erotica lmao. (I do think you're actually also more likely to find it in like f/f and m/m of any genre).

Anyway, on the flipside, some people find my sex scenes way too long and don't see the point. So all this stuff needs to exist for everyone! I just yeah, really like sex scenes where character stuff is happening. I can't write them otherwise, likely because I'm ace, and don't really find 'look at hot body = want to have sex' a thing that's relatable.

#asks and answers #personal #pia on writing #pretty much everyone i know just about has read ACOTAR at this point #like i know some of the character's names #it feels very much like the new 50SOG or Twilight #but i haven't read those either #i'm always missing out on the zeitgeist #because the zeitgeist is always so painfully heterosexual

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bellaxgiornata · 4 months ago

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hiya! i’m asking both you and @pastafossa this question (because you’re my favorite daredevil writers). as someone who was very sunburnt today, july 4th, do you think matt can feel himself get a sunburn? and would he wear sunscreen to counteract it? when we were young, my sister had bad sensory issues and wouldn’t wear sunscreen. so i’m just wondering what matt’s reaction to all that would be. hope you had a great 4th of july!!

First off thank you so much!! 😭❤ There are so many wonderful DD writers so hearing that means a lot!! And @pastafossa is amazing (TRT is the reason I even started writing for Matt)!

I'm so sorry this took me so long to respond to, I've had the answer in my brain since I first read this, but finding a moment uninterrupted by children to sit and respond has been hard to do! (Also sorry to hear about your sunburn that day, that sounds awful!)

As usual I answered below the cut because this got long!

To answer your first question, I absolutely believe Matt can feel a sunburn. I mean, when I've had bad sunburns I can feel them aching and burning throughout the day on my own skin and I don't remotely have the senses that Matt does. And showering with a sunburn? I'm sure you know how much that sucks 😆 To Matt I imagine a sunburn would be constantly irritating and painful, but considering how injured he probably often is just walking around day to day, I'm sure the pain would be nothing new to him. He'd probably try to just suck it up or consider it something he deserved to suffer through. But yes, I absolutely think he could feel it and that it would be nonstop miserable for him--especially a really, really bad sunburn.

As for Matt wearing sunscreen, I could absolutely see him wearing it, BUT I will add that I don't really picture Matt as the type of individual that goes out in the sun long enough to get burnt in the city. I'm sure he did as a kid on occasion though, but not so much as an adult. He doesn't seem to have a lot of recreational hobbies or leisure time for lengthy outdoor daytime activities because he's too busy with the firm or too busy being the Devil or too busy being half dead in his apartment. Though if he did go out for a day in the sun, he'd probably be dragged by someone else (like a significant other or Fog) and they would most likely force him to wear some. And yes, most definitely I could see sunscreen absolutely bothering him, but I believe some might be more bearable to him than others.

I think it was last month that I was researching different types of sunscreens (don't ask, weird thing to research, I know) and there are literally so many different types nowadays that I imagine he'd be able to find one that wasn't too awful for him to wear. It currently eludes me whether it was the mineral or chemical ones that are less irritating on skin--especially if you sweat and it gets in your eyes--but I imagine there'd be a go-to type he'd use. Something that didn't have too much of a strong scent and that absorbed fairly well into his skin. Because anything that left a sort of greasy layer on him I'm sure would be distracting and feel disgusting to him. And having to reapply it would certainly just add to that gross feeling. More than likely he'd still end up taking a long shower after his outdoor activities to try to get it all off of his skin as soon as he could, too.

This was such a fun question though, so thank you!! I don't know if you read FFTD but in a waaaaay later installment in the future I plan to look at Matt sitting on a beach in a somewhat realistic view of him (from how I picture things) dealing with the situation with his senses. So basically having to wear sunscreen, dealing with sand on his skin (OMG he'd so hate sand 🤣😭) and possibly some other things. It's just always so fun to explore how he'd react to things with his senses!

#bella answers #matt and sunburn/sunscreen #matt murdock headcanon

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traumacatholic · 1 year ago

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Finally kind of feel in a position where I can post this. I realise that my last post and long disappearance was probably of great concern to some people, and I am deeply sorry for any worry or pain that I've caused other people with that long disappearance. There was a lot going on in my life, including moving house. And I think the longer I took a break from Tumblr, the more daunting it came to come back. But the fact of the matter is, I've cried over this blog a lot. Or rather, I've cried over the followers of this blog and the people that have engaged with it. I have been dealing with a great sense of guilt. Guilt that I've let you guys down. Guilt that I've betrayed you in some way.

Something that always pained me, was the reality of my own struggle to access mental health support. It's an unfortunate reality, that no matter how many times we might work to raise awareness, and tackle stigma surrounding mental health (particularly complex mental health issues like OCD or PTSD or Schizophrenia, etc). That this doesn't do much to tackle the core issue that's the main struggle for people: accessible healthcare. Be that to do with any financial costs or lengthy waiting lists or other issues. There was a sense of deep guilt of encouraging people to seek help, whilst also being fully aware that they might be even more disheartened if they reached out for help and were unable to get anything substantial. I would never want to build someone's hopes up in order to then shatter them. I've experienced it all too much with trying to access support on my own.

I also felt really guilty running this blog when I was struggling with Church attendance. It felt like I was lying about my piety, to people that were desperately trying to fight to be able to attend their Church and to be a part of Church life. I'm in a city now, and I've started attending Church regularly. I've been trying to get into the practice of daily prayer, and the daily readings of theological texts alongside Scripture. Some days are better than others, but then I guess that's always going to be the case. Something that was really deeply meaningful to me during RCIA was being told that conversion to the faith wasn't a one and done thing. Each day, we are constantly converting back. We are constantly returning to God and being renewed in our relationship with God, no matter how far we stumble or what kind of problems we stumble into - willing and unwillingly.

And this is where it gets, I guess, the scariest. I've been dealing a lot with anxieties and doubts surrounding my faith. Not in the, "Hey guys sorry I've taken a break and became atheist" kind of way. But I've been feeling a strong pull towards Orthodox Christianity. And the Church I've been attending, has been an Orthodox one. I don't know. It feels weird to type that one out. It felt so weird to call myself Catholic for a long time. And then I became so happy of the title, and I loved the faith. I still do, love Catholicism. But I think this is something I need to explore. I've been feeling the draw to Orthodoxy for a long time, and I always kept pushing it away. But I think the only real way I can really address it, is by actually giving it a fair chance and exploration.

I don't know what I'll do with this blog. I don't intend to delete it - I think there are still people that can find help and comfort from the prayers that I've posted. I do have a new Tumblr, where I post excerpts from Orthodox texts I've been reading. I do still feel really strongly about helping people struggling with mental and physical health issues, trauma survivors etc. I care intensely about that work. And it's why this post pains me so much. I still want to be able to give you guys help, you can always send a message over to my new blog @orthodoxadventure if you're in need of any prayers or advice surrounding mental health/trauma etc (also despite the circumstances, I did go through RCIA, and if anyone has any questions surrounding it, I'll try my best to answer) , and I think I'm going to make it a habit to check the blog here.

I'm deeply sorry to anyone that I've hurt by doing this. I would really appreciate your prayers. None of this is, particularly easy. I feel like I've let down and hurt so many people. But I also knew that the more I tried to resist the interest of Orthodoxy, the more I felt that I was letting myself down and letting my relationship with God down. Maybe in some time, I will return to Catholicism, much more content and happy and more knowledgeable in that choice. Maybe I will go further down the path to the Orthodox Church. But I knew I couldn't just feel like I was sitting on the fence any longer. I hope that you will be able to forgive me for this, and I intend to keep you all in my prayers.

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hurthermore · 6 months ago

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Hello!!

First, I want to start of with how extraordinary your works are! I've taken a long overdrawn hiatus from tumblr, and only recently formed a new account and rejoined. Your work is one of the first I stumbled upon since being back, and it can not compare to any of the others I've read in the past, nor the ones that are currently on tumblr rn. You simply can not find a fic that comes anywhere close to how eloquently you write, and how brilliantly you make the characters come to life!! So thank you so so so much, as another person put, for feeding us!!!!!!

Secondly, I've been really curious to know how you think your Alastor would interact with (would he fall in love with them; ignore them; befriend them; or think of them as an enemy?) either a reader or a side character like the following:

• A character who has the same ideals/ideation but goes about it in a different way. For example, someone who agrees that its best to keep your enemy guessing, and to never really truly show what your thinking on the inside, but instead of smilling all the time, they keep a deadpan stoic feature; who also has homicidal ideation, isn't disgusted with death but doesn't hunt in the same way he does. Essentially, someone like Wednesday Addams.

• A different character who is almost the complete opposite of Alastor. Some one who has been through a lot, yes (maybe even same things as reader in Misconduct currently) , but clings onto hope. Whose vegetarian because they want to believe all life has meaning and value but also isn't opposed to death(believes in euthanasia); they've been around alot of death, all their family is gone (maybe cuse of Vincent), which is why they cling to the vegetarianism, maybe is also a nurse or something and sees alot there too. Will also shy away from others and Alastor in the beginning because they think they're the ones who cause pain, suffering and death to anyone who gets close to them (maybe cuse Vincent gaslit them into thinking so).

I hope this makes sense. And I know I'm asking alot, so please feel free to ignore if it's too much, if you don't have time, or are simply not intrested! And thank you so much for just even reading my ask!!! I wish you luck on your lengthy assignment!!!!

Ahh! Tysm for this feedback it means so much to me to hear you say such kind words T.T<33

Honestly my Alastor would only fall in love with reader regardless of how they are or what they are, (unless reader is bigoted), he wouldn't fall in love with anyone else, full stop.

I think he would be neutral to someone who has the same ideals but goes about them differently, if it was reader who was like this, he would probably try effortlessly to make them smile, because your smile is his favourite thing in the world<3

With the vegan thing, if it was anyone but reader, he'd probably hate them cause he's a proper meat man y'know? T.T but if it was reader, he would pretend to accept her lifestyle, but in reality, he's mixing bits of human flesh in your food. T.T Sorry.

I think Alastor would find reader who is a nurse to be endearing and cute, he'd probably hurt himself a lot just so you can be his special little nurse.

And ty!! I'm almost done with it so I will be able to focus on misconduct very soon!<3

#alastor x reader #hurthermore talks

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electronickingdomfox · 7 months ago

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"My Enemy, My Ally" review

Romulans stole Spock's brain! (or at least, some Vulcan brains)

Novel from 1984, by Diane Duane, and the first of the five-book series Rihannsu.

The plot itself is okay: the Romulans have a new devious scheme (capturing Vulcans to extract the telepathic abilities from their brains), and the Enterprise must stop their plans. Only this time, Kirk will have to collaborate with a bunch of good, renegade Romulans to succeed. It's not terribly original, nor it's the first time that Kirk has allied himself with Romulans in these novels, but as a plot it's entertaining. However, the narrative drags a lot, specially in the first half of the novel, and it takes a reaaally long time to set things into motion. In part, this is due to a "tell, rather than show" approach. For example, there's a lengthy conversation about how the Enterprise and its Romulan allies are going to stage a fake battle between both ships, in full detail. And then a lengthy description of the ships doing just that. One of these two segments isn't needed. There's also a lot of fluff, specially in scenes at the Recreation deck, and plenty of new character introductions, that don't lead anywhere nor have any real importance. A lot of the new character roles could have been filled by the usual crew, anyway. Now, I don't think that a novel should just be barebones plot, but I didn't find these "extra" scenes particularly entertaining nor enlightening. So in my opinion, this novel would have improved greatly if it was cut short. Though the later sections suffer less of this, and are more focused.

The story is notable for introducing a lot of new material about Romulan culture, and specially language (which seems to me even more unpronounceable than Klingon). In fact, most of the time Romulans are referred to as "Rihannsu", which is the name of the race in their own language. I don't know to what extent Duane developed the grammar and vocabulary, but it seems to have a certain structure to it. There's also much emphasis on the power of names over things and people, and some glimpses into the Romulan worship of Elements. A lot of this has probably never been incorporated into the series, but Romulans having several names (of which only the first is revealed to strangers) seems to have its origins here.

As for characters, the most developed one is Ael, the Romulan commander that strikes an alliance with Kirk. At times she comes dangerously close to Mary Sue territory (for example, beating McCoy at a game she had just learned, despite the doctor being skilled enough to beat none other than Spock). But otherwise, she's fine for her role in the story. In many ways, she's both a mirror and a foil for Kirk, suffering also under the weight of command, and the difficult decisions between duty and her crew's wellbeing. Though not exactly a tragic character, there's also a lot of sadness and burdens in her past. On the other hand, Kirk rubbed me the wrong way. Or rather, his relationship with his crew. I found it way too lax and informal, and sometimes it seems he's more like a cool dad for them, rather than a Captain. Kirk in the series had his goofy moments, of course, and Shatner imbued him with much comedic potential. But nonetheless, there was always some gravitas about him, and a respectful distance with his subordinates. Even with someone as close as Spock, he was usually pretty formal. The only one who broke this pattern was McCoy, and that was precisely why their relationship was special. So yeah, I just don't see Kirk trading jokes with Sulu while under enemy fire, or receiving sassy remarks from Uhura, sorry. Also, as happened in The Wounded Sky, there's again a wide array of fancy aliens populating the Enterprise. I didn't mind them that much in the previous novel, since the story is so unusual, that it could have existed outside the Star Trek universe without damage being done. This time around... I've decided that I'm not a fan of this idea. Apart from being too distracting, Starfleet strikes me as a mostly human institution, at least at the time of TOS (after all, HQ is in San Francisco), and Spock often struggled being accepted among the crew. He was THE alien, and this led to isolation and even ocassional prejudices against him. Now, this wouldn't make much sense if the crew were regularly sipping coffee next to a gelatinous blob of tentacles... As for Spock and McCoy, they're mostly okay, though they tend to get overshadowed by the extended cast, and obviously, Ael.

I must be in the minority here, since most people seem to love this novel, but in general, I didn't like it much. Perhaps it's a consequence of having just read John Ford's masterful The Final Reflection, and his fascinating take on Klingons. Perhaps I simply don't care all that much about Romulans...

Some spoilers under the cut:

The first chapters switch perspectives between Ael and Kirk. While Ael reflects on her falling out with the Romulan Senate, because of her opposition to a certain revolutionary research, Kirk is ordered to patrol the Neutral Zone, as part of a task force. Ael has been "exiled" as commander of a shitty starship named Cuirass, crewed by shitty subordinates. But she keeps contact with her old, loyal ship Bloodwing, now commanded by Tafv, her own son. When news of the Federation ships arriving reach her, she sets her plan into motion. After sabotaging the Cuirass' systems, she escapes in a scout ship to Bloodwing. And the latter ship destroys Cuirass, whose crew she considers traitors to the Empire for their collaboration in the Senate's schemes.

After this, Bloodwing rendezvous with Enterprise near the Neutral Zone, and Ael asks permission to come aboard alone, promising some very important info. Then she explains to Kirk what's going on: The Romulan government has started developing a new weapon at the station in Levaeri V. They capture Vulcans and extract their brain tissue, in order to implant the genetic material into Romulans, and thus give them all their telepathic abilities, even enhanced. After leaving Vulcan centuries ago, the Romulans' divergent development made them unable to mind-meld, or do any of that cool Vulcan stuff. But now, with the new research, powerful individuals could read minds, control thoughts and subject any opposition. Ael believes this will ruin the Empire and its old code of honor. And in turn, will cause conflicts with both the Federation and the Klingons. Thus, she asks Kirk to "lend" her the Enterprise, to help destroy the research station. Her plan is faking a capture of the Enterprise by Bloodwing, then towing the starship into Romulan space and destroy the facility along the way. Spock confirms through a mind-meld that Ael's telling the truth.

Kirk is sympathetic with her cause, but refuses to go along with the plan, on the grounds that he can't intervene in Romulan internal affairs. Things change, however, when the Vulcan ship that was patrolling near the Enterprise is spirited away under their noses. Ael explains that its disappearance matches the modus operandi of Romulans. The Vulcans are being taken to the research station (and now I understand why Spock chose to serve in a human starship; Vulcan ships seem to have the worst luck, between being eaten by amoebas and now this...). Kirk can't ignore the matter anymore, now that the Vulcans are in danger, so he decides to go with Ael.

After faking a battle between Bloodwing and Enterprise, they proceed to Levaeri V. Ael's crew take positions in the Enterprise bridge, while Kirk and the rest of the officers play a bit of theater, faking their capture in the brig, to fool the escorts sent by the Empire. Once approaching the station, Bloodwing and the Enterprise suddenly turn against the escorts and destroy them.

In the last part, Kirk sends a large strike force into the station, to free the Vulcan captives and destroy all research with their brains. But meanwhile, the Enterprise is assaulted by a treacherous faction among Ael's people. Scotty, Chekov and Sulu must fight to recover the ship, while down in the station the battle continues.

Spirk Meter: 1/10*. There's a bit about Spock being particularly interested in the proceedings of Kirk's mind, while playing chess. But I can't think of anything else, and even this is really minimal.

There's also some Mcspirk. McCoy likes to study Kirk and Spock while they play chess, to delve deeper into their personalities and psyches. And when Kirk complains that, if Spock and McCoy keep babysitting him, he'll end up taking their hands, McCoy says that's okay with him. But warns him about Spock, and the kind of rumors that could run through the ship. Also, Ael observes that the three of them seem to share a single mind. Though that's downplayed by the comparison with the similar link between Ael and her son.

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

#star trek tos #star trek novels #novel review #k/s #spirk #mcspirk

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scary-lasagna · 7 months ago

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KITTY!!! I humbly request a Zalgo and Slender fic 👀👀 smut if you may 🫣

I've never written smutty m/m but HOO

good golly

contains: sexual tension, a follow-up with nitty gritty in part II bc kitty didn't want it to be so long

also i am posting this now because I haven't posted yesterday nor today so part II will likely be following up this week :]

A Business Meeting [Zalgo/Slender - NSFW]

"I'm not quite sure that I'm following."

Slender sat at a six person table, a long elegant piece of granite. Zalgo sat at the other end, only two chair length's away, his hands clasped in front of him.

The demon had shrunk out of politeness, adapting to Slender's height versus the usual 12-foot stature he carried. Despite the rips and tears littering the webbing of his bat-like wings, they looked well-kept and proper for a demon of his status. Embezzled with jewels, chains, and gold clips for the rare occasion of a meeting with his enemy.

Slender felt wildly underdressed for the occasion, and he knew this was only one of the many mind games Zalgo would play on him. Even so, Slender couldn't help but adjust his 24k gold cufflinks out of a nervous habit.

Zalgo's wings fluttered as he straightened his shoulders ever so slightly, puffing out his broad frame. A sharp jawline, good figure, crooked nose, a dangerous look in his eye, and a bit of charisma were all Zalgo ever needed to get his way about things.

But Slender wouldn't be backing down this time.

Imagine spending one of your few days off, sitting on opposite sides of a table, in enemy territory, staring down this vile creature that refuses to wipe that shitty smirk off his face. Zalgo has Slender right where he wants him, and Slender knows, and Zalgo knows that he knows.

This is why Slender must win this little game of the King.

"Then perhaps I shall elaborate, dearest friend." The demon hummed, placing his elbows onto the black granite of the stretched meeting table. "Allow me to think." He pitched his fingers together in a tent and pressed his fingertips towards each other, grazing his knuckles with his claws. Zalgo closed his eyes briefly, his mind flickering with all the possible outcomes for his next arrangement of words.

Slender continued staring at the supposed king, taking in a sharp breath. This might have been the closest they've been in ages, alone. In fact, if he so wished, Zalgo was just a tendril length away from being choke-slammed across the room. Slender attempted to block the thoughts of what Zalgo would look like being choked. Alas, he failed and must advert his gaze to the webbed granite.

"I beg you to elaborate before I grow too old." Although the mental picture of Zalgo enjoying being choked occupied his mind, Slender must admit that his patience had worn thin since he stepped into Zalgo's territory. Besides listening to the screams of The Pit on his walk to the castle, the king's consistent mind games have been irritating him.

How Slender wished to shut him up with the taste of his-

"I'm terribly sorry to be the one to break the news, but you're already very old and decrepit."

"Considering how many years you have ahead of me, I suggest limiting time spent on your mundane activities such as thinking." Slender straightened his tie in an attempt to loosen the grip it currently had around his neck. Or maybe that was the phantom of the thought of what it would feel like had Zalgo been choking him instead.

Zalgo huffed shortly, irritated by such incompetence, "If you believe two minutes is a lengthy sum of time, I pity whatever poor creature must share the bed with you."

Slender's jaw tensed. This stupid, stupid demon. Sexy, too, but mostly stupid. If Slender ever wished he could express a face, he would have wished to smirk back at Zalgo at this very moment.

"Your Grace, you of all people should remember how that isn't true." Slender's voice lulled, a slow, captivating tone that dripped with condescendence.

Zalgo smoothly yet dangerously looked toward Slender. Had he really heard him correctly?

"I believe we vowed to not speak of it, my dear friend." Zalgo dropped his hands to the table, intertwining his fingers. His own claws scraped his midnight-tainted skin. Getting blood on his suit was the least of his concerns now.

"And I believe you vowed to keep your minions out of my territory unprompted, yet here we are." This was a clever retort. Slender hoped this would make Zalgo uncomfortable enough to drop the subject altogether. It was a pitiful prayer, but something that might just work. The Tall Man leaned back in his seat, flexing his hips to cross his leg comfortably under the table.

Zalgo was uncomfortable, alright. But it had nothing to do with the memory of so many nights ago. No, no. The tent in his pants has become absolutely painful.

He liked it.

"Slender, you are playing a very dangerous game that I am not quite sure you'd like to win."

"I would win."

A quiet yet dangerous silence slithered around them. A challenge.

Zalgo always enjoyed those.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta blog #slender #zalgo x slender #creepypasta x reader #spicy

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grey-gazania · 8 months ago

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I'm sorry someone bombarded you with bitchy comments 😭. While my To Read list is lengthy and continually lengthier (actually I think something of yours with her is on it), I'd like to hear more about Ianneth-Fingon-Maedhros if you want to talk about them.

@polutrope

It wasn't really upsetting, just annoying and honestly a little bit funny. This guy left comments on all six chapters of By Love or at Least Free Will, every time I updated the story, just objecting to the entire premise of the story and ranting about how Elves have incorruptible pure souls and are immune to lust. I was sorely tempted to respond with this quote from "Laws & Customs Among the Eldar":

Even when in after days, as the histories reveal, many of the Eldar in Middle-earth became corrupted, and their hearts darkened by the shadow that lies upon Arda, seldom is any tale told of deeds of lust among them.

'Seldom' is not the same thing as 'never', and furthermore, I don't think lust is even a major theme of my story. It's more about conflicting obligations and unruly hearts.

In the end I deleted the comments without responding, because I have a personal policy of not engaging with people who are acting in bad faith. But I have to assume that this guy has no actual hobbies if he spends his time hate-reading entire stories instead of just...closing the window and moving on with his life. Maybe take up crochet, bro? Or volunteer at a soup kitchen? Watch a TV show that you like? Grow some tomatoes? Do something that will be more fulfilling than typing long screeds on AO3. I promise it will make you a happier person.

Anyway. On to the actual topic of your ask! As you've probably noticed, I am very fond of Russingon. However, I am also very fond of Fingon as Gil-galad's father. At first I balanced these two ideas by keeping my Russingon ideas and my Fingon-father-of-Gil-galad ideas in two separate universes, but then I started really fleshing out Gil-galad's mother, and it made me think some thoughts. To repeat something I said to @cuarthol in a comment on AO3:

...half the genesis of Ianneth was seeing so many stories (in multiple fandoms, not just Tolkien) where the woman is written out of a canon or semi-canon couple to make room for a popular M/M ship instead, without the female character being treated with any respect. I decided that the female perspective on that situation would be a nice change of pace and interesting to write.

I'm not trying to point fingers -- I'll readily admit that I have my male faves just like the next gal and that it's fun to make them kiss -- but the wives and girlfriends don't get a lot of love in fandom, do they? And it doesn't help that the legendarium in general tends to be a bit of a sausage fest. So I decided that Fingon would have a wife and be in love with Maedhros. But instead of focusing just on the forbidden love, I was going to focus on the wife's feelings, too.

Ianneth ("bridge-woman") is one of the Northern Sindar, from the community that lives around Lake Mithrim. She's the daughter of Annael (yes, that Annael), whom I've imagined to be one of the more influential leaders among the Northern Sindar, and particularly among the Elves of Mithrim.

Her betrothal to Fingon starts as a political arrangement. Fingolfin loves Fingon dearly, of course, but he's also been hinting for a while now that Fingon really needs to settle down and start having kids so that there will be a strong line of heirs should Fingolfin die. After all, Argon's dead, and Turgon and Aredhel abruptly fucked off to god-knows-where some three hundred years ago and haven't been seen nor heard from since. Your dad needs some grandsons, Fingon, and this also seems like a ripe opportunity to strengthen the Noldor's alliance with the Northern Sindar.

I don't think political marriage is unknown among the Elves of Beleriand. (For one example in the text, see Celegorm trying to marry Luthien to force Doriath into an alliance.) And the quote I drew the title of the aforementioned Fingon/Ianneth story from, also found in "Laws and Customs Among the Eldar," is:

The Eldar wedded only once in life, and for love or at the least by free will upon either part.

Free will could easily mean, "Are we in love? No. But I'll still marry you, for the good of our peoples, and I'll bring some of Dad's soldiers along with me." That sort of thing happened all the time among real-world nobility, so I see no reason why it can't happen among Elven nobility in Beleriand, too.

At any rate, Fingolfin arranges for Fingon to meet the daughters of some of the more powerful leaders of the Northern Sindar, and he's hint-hint-hinting that Fingon really needs to pick one of them to be his wife. Fingon, having been in love with Maedhros since they were young in Valinor, is not exactly keen on this plan. But he goes along with it anyway because he is a dutiful son, he knows that his father is right about needing to strengthen the line of succession, and he also knows that revealing his (quite taboo!) relationship with Maedhros to his father would probably break Fingolfin's heart.

It takes Fingon a while to decide who to court, but he picks Ianneth because he likes her sense of humor; she has the guts to gently tease him at their first meeting, which he finds quite charming. He doesn't think he can love anyone besides Maedhros, but he does look at Ianneth and think, "This is a woman I could grow to care for and whose companionship I think could enjoy."

The trouble begins when, over the course of their courtship, Fingon starts falling in love with Ianneth without falling out of love with Maedhros. And he doesn't know what to do about this. He can't call off the marriage, and he doesn't want to break things off with Maedhros, so he decides to just...keep the whole thing with Maedhros a secret and marry Ianneth anyway. It's not a good decision, but really, are there any options here that won't end with someone getting hurt? I don't think so.

So we have Ianneth, blissfully ignorant of her husband's infidelity (for now); Fingon, in love with two people at once and feeling horribly guilty about it, but unwilling to pick one partner over the other; and Maedhros, resigned to the situation but still hurting because Fingon is no longer his alone.

Maedhros' feelings are complicated by the fact that, once he meets her, he finds that likes Ianneth. It would be easier, he thinks, if he could write her off as just a political necessity for Fingon, but it turns out that she's charming and intelligent and kind, and he can understand why Fingon loves her. His feelings soften further once Ereiniel is born, because Fingon is so happy being a father, and he loves Fingon, so how can he begrudge him that? There's a line from "Famous Blue Raincoat" by Leonard Cohen that I always think of when I'm getting into Maedhros' head at this point:

And thanks for the trouble you took from [his] eyes. I thought it was there for good, so I never tried.

Things tick along about as smoothly as they can for thirteen years, until, in the aftermath of Fingolfin's death during the Dagor Bragollach, as Fingon prepares to send Ianneth and Ereiniel to the Falas for their safety, Ianneth learns his secret. This is understandably devastating for her, and leaves her wondering if Fingon ever really loved her as she loved him, or if his marriage to her was simply a politically expedient sham.

Add to that the fact that she leaves for the Falas less than ten hours after this revelation and spends most of that ten hours either crying or asleep, as she's too upset to really talk to Fingon about what she's discovered, and it leaves her with this horrible knowledge and all the worst thoughts that come from it gnawing at her nearly a full year until Fingon next comes to Eglarest -- time that she spends as the sole caregiver for her young daughter, among strangers in a foreign city, without her mother or her sister or any of her friends who might have theoretically been able to offer her some emotional support.

Theoretically is a key word there, though, because even if, say, her sister had come to Eglarest, Ianneth isn't sure she'd even be able to tell her. For one thing, she can't help feeling ashamed, because infidelity is very rare among Elves, and she can't help thinking that maybe she failed as a wife somehow, and if she'd done something different, Fingon wouldn't have strayed. Then there's the fact that he's the High King of the Noldor, and if this gets out it could cause a crisis in the Noldorin government and possibly tank the alliance between the House of Fingolfin and the Northern Sindar. Ianneth is a practical woman, and she's of the Northern Sindar -- the people who have been living practically on Morgoth's doorstep for centuries, with no Maia queen's magic girdle to protect them. Their alliance with the Noldor is vital, and she would never want to jeopardize it.

So Ianneth is just...completely alone with this pain. She has no one to turn to, no one who can comfort her. And that pain is central to her story, and a not insignificant part of Ereiniel's story, too.

#polutrope #turns out when you ask me about my ocs i turn into treebeard #ianneth #fingon's wife #fingon #maedhros #gil galad #woman king au #my ocs

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