#tales from the RL front

[blacklegsanjiii]

The ASL x Sanji au is amazing, so I feel the need to add hc:

• when Sanji starts to use suits his boyfriends absolutely get mesmerized bc "so pretty"

• Ace and Sabo are certainly more clingier than Luffy when it's comes to kisses and touches more intimites than huges when they're teenagers

• the asl jealous would be funny, bc i can perfectly see some boy in Grey Terminal giving flowers or something like that to Sanji in front of them

• Sanji probaly make drawing of types of fish, the sea, dishes and more things, just like he knows a lot of luballys and tales from North Blue, the ASL absolutely love to see him drawing or hear him sing

(And to add in the RLS + ASL x S thing, when Law sends a copy of all their old photos, Robin would probaly use's the fact they're Sanji's boyfriends to make them hear her talking about young Sanji – they love seeing the photos)

I'm so glad you like them and your headcanons are all correct!

ASL first time seeing Sanji in a suit they're blown away. They keep telling him pretty whenever he's wearing one and the Onigashima suit is forever implanted in their brains as adults as well.

Ace and Sabo are definitely more about sexual intimacy when they're teens. It's a whole problem. Zeff has threatened them multiple times so they will talk Sanji with them and Sanji has gotten so good at make up to hide the love bites.

Sanji will make them go on supply runs with him because there's three people to carry everything and that's nice. However Sanji is paid a lot of completion and flirtation he misses and then someone gives him flowers and calls him the most beautiful person in the world. Sanji is so red and suddenly three feral jungle people are chasing the poor sod.

Sanji can draw in HanHawk!Sanji with the reason that he needs to be able to draw all the new fish in the All Blue. He absolutely draws his boyfriends too. Sanji doesn't sing often but Luffy convinces him and Brook every once in a while. It's a treat.

The photos. Oh Lord the photos. They get the box and Ace and Luffy are basically vibrating until Sabo gets there and then he and Koala, Luffy, and Ace are all sat around like it's fucking story time to hear about the photos and see them. Sanji and Nami are apologizing to Koala as Robin starts showing the photos and the boys melt next to her. She makes a note to tell Dragon Sanji needs to be protected at all costs because otherwise the seas are fucked.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The breaking will of man

Faramir x fem!elven reader

warning : dead dove, +18, smut, rape, obsession, dark themes, manipulation, kissing, hair pulling, biting, breeding kink, faramir has some special kind of thoughts

Summary : A ring and an unstoppable power wielded by a group and on the finger of a hobbit. A group in which two Elven traveled the prince of Mirkwood and an Elf a beautiful light from Lórien. But when a shadow of greed and recognition settles over the group, love becomes corrupt and consequent consequences...for the prince of a realm on the brink of war.

Info : It had to be something very dark again after a long time, so only if you can and want to read something like this do it. Thanks as always to the wonderful @rl-nancyholbrook for this idea and have fun reading :)

ps : I have not read the book only watched the movies I try to get everything as good as I can but please bear with me.

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A ring brings power. A ring of seeming gold a pretty expensive but also noble metal but no it was older so much whiter. A material that did not melt in flames, a metal that did not start to rust in water. A metal that would only melt if you threw it into the Orodruin, the mountain that held history and death.

The legends and tales of the ages were known, but it was all so long ago that hardly anyone was still able to tell them, except for the elves and perhaps the dwarves.

Then there were the humans, who existed everywhere but were too weak in the face of natural time. But even if it was in their heads, there were some among them who didn't want to know about it.

A family around the Steward of Gondor. A family that had its own problems the selfish and heartless father a man without love after the death of his beloved his eldest son Boromir engaged in the uprisings and wars to defend Gondor against the creatures of the enemy. The pride of his father in stark contrast to his younger brother Faramir.

A young man only five years younger but it was his softer nature the shadow of his dead mother's mother that must have loomed over him this something of a black creature in the family without recognition.

It was he who was sent by his father to Rivendell to answer the call of the half-living Lord Elrond, a call that could and very likely would end in death, as not only the group knew but also the steward who did not shed a tear for his son as he bade him farewell.

Boromir alone showed concern but in the end Faramir had to make this long journey alone in an unknown group not knowing that when he arrived several moons later he would meet someone who would awaken something human in him. Corruption and desire.

As the moons rose and set, the sun rose and retreated, time passed and the group arrived one by one. A group of humans, elves, a wizard and four halflings.

But when his eyes, which had previously focused on the beautiful architecture, realized the beauty of the ornaments of the flowers and blossoms, he saw it. It was like a presence not a childlike one like the four of them or a welcoming one from Legolas, nor was it protective like Aragorn looking at the younger human.

They had both sensed it this something this light indescribable and yet emerging. He heard the language of the elves from the lips of the blond who saw them first, but the words had no meaning for the redhead.

Words that Aragorn replied to and Faramir felt this tug of jealousy through his body for a long time where otherwise there was restraint and understanding. Empty words that I can speak better only for you. Rising from his chair, he heard the rustling of leaves and the bright white flowers flying across the ground towards him as he took his place in front of her.

His blue met her light-like eyes a white almost blind and yet sparkling like a star. ,,An honor to meet you Faramir Capitan the Ranger of Ithilien son of Denethor the Second. May my bow loyally protect us all,” he introduced himself and bowed slightly, a gesture that brought a soft smile to her lips and a curtsy to her dress.

His blue eyes were like the beautiful natural sky, the red of his hair like the evening sun and a loving manner. A man, a human being someone mortal who stood before her and yet engaging in her way. The doubts her mistress and master had told her that people always gave in to power but how could this stand for this group for him this dear Faramir...no he was sincere.

,,I am pleased to meet you and all of you, your words full of loyalty as palpable as the beauty of this valley” she replied and looked at him for a moment before she sat down and Lord Elrond joined them to discuss the plan one by one.

But his gaze would not and could not leave her and he kept looking at her, unable to move. This innocence and purity. Meanwhile, she felt his sky-blue eyes on her, mistaking his devotion for fascination and kindness.

Because everyone had something good in them, a naivety for which she was recognized, but in a world of darkness one had to see good.

A thought she held on to and smiled at Faramir, smiled at the others and above all saw hope and peace in the four halflings. Four halflings full of joy and courage like our group shall protect you. ,,A light is shining and I know that peace will come like a sunrise” her words supported her and she saw the nods of the four who seemed more sure of themselves than ever, more sure than ever of anything.

Words that lifted her spirits as they mounted their mounts the next morning and she felt Faramir's gaze on her as he held the reins of her white horse. ,,You have been waiting?” she asked as she was one of the last to say goodbye not only to Elrond but also to the ancient artifacts.

She was all the more surprised when she walked up the stairs to the courtyard, her white dress, a gift from her mistress, ending just short of her shoes and she stood by her horse. ,,Of course my lady your horse seemed nervous I wanted to calm him down” he said and she smiled at the nickname knowing no she had sensed that his love of nature was not just from the rangers.

Nature is as beautiful as love, as beautiful as feelings. ,,Thank you Faramir Gil is nervous when the life of the world is fading” she confessed and mounted her ferd accepting Faramir's gloved hand gratefully before finally taking the reins in her hand.

Her body is handsome and graceful above me so I would like to touch her...if the light passes to me. Moving the reins of her almost soulmate only slightly, the horse started to move followed by Faramir who swung himself onto his black horse and after a few more moments the group left the place and headed towards the mountain.

A mountain they feared and hoped for. But it was Faramir who always rode behind or beside them, casting a shadow on her light. He talked to her about his homeland, the animals and nature, and she couldn't help but laugh and listen to him with fascination.

Her senses did not perceive the brilliance in the blue of his eyes, a brilliance that could not be seen in the reflection of the water of the river or the sun.

An invisible brilliance like the metal of the ring, a brilliance that called to Faramir, a brilliance of recognition. ,,Your recognition means everything to me...my father thinks differently” she heard him confess at one point, saw him turn his face away and despite the setting sun her good eyes saw that he was flushed.

My mistress was right people have feelings of togetherness and shame they know what is right and wrong she remembered Galadriel's words and her hand automatically went to his and gently squeezed it, ,,Don't worry your father the steward should be proud of such a son”.

Her words full of devotion, a naivety on her part that did not see how Faramir's heart beat faster and in the breath of a wind he got an idea. An idea, a thought as if whispered by the ring Your words should only belong to me words that reached him and words that burned themselves into his heart.

He gave her a smile before riding a little faster to catch up with Frodo, wanting to feel that breeze, that voice, that attraction again. Could he succumb so quickly?

Should his father's disappointment really be such a disappointment to himself, should he really have fallen for an Elf or was it simply the new freedom and adventure before him? He couldn't answer it didn't know what it was that drove him to keep his eyes gliding to her.

This beauty A queen he thought of this painful dream he had a painful dream that would never be. Faramir the next Steward of Gondor his father finally filled with pride and Boromir as much as he loved his brother would no longer protect him. There had to be something…or someone.

The journey not only of the ring-bearer but also of the others had now begun, a moon had passed and they had all rested together around the fire, talking, laughing, joking and telling stories from their homeland and their past.

Above all, everyone listened to the two elves who had so many centuries of stories to tell about beings and gods, about species that were no longer among them.

The redhead was particularly fascinated by the fact that the flame of fire turned white when she ran her hand over it. ,,A simple feeling of nature full of empathy,” she said, matching the figures to Legolas' story of a fight against his childhood friend while her bright eyes full of knowledge and joy looked from the fire over the group.

Nothing but kindness and openness towards them and of the conversations he had with her as they looked for berries and firewood together, always clearing away a few branches and helping her not to stumble.

A thing that was of course completely unnecessary and because she had taken his hand, ,,You are light” was the first thing that had slipped out of his mind, he had never really looked at the body of elves before and yet it surprised him, he held her clearly and yet she seemed to float almost above everything.

His sentence that made him blush with shame at such a noble lady only made her laugh and let her other hand rest against him as she jumped from a fallen tree trunk. ,,Elves are light and you humans…Misstres Galadriel is wrong you humans have been a changeable people full of emotion and kindness” she replied and leaned her forehead against his for a moment a moment in which he felt her warmth a moment in which he thought he felt everything a moment in which they were close…a moment in which his hand held her as tightly as he would from now on.

Since then, he stayed even closer to her, to her light, to her warmth, to her blessing, to everything. During the attacks, which at first were still tentative and even if calming, he looked away from Frodo, who was actually the target, and even though she had her dagger, he knew that an even greater power lurked in her pretty body. That with every bow shot he fired, every arrow he shot, there was an opponent who looked into her direction.

A fact that not only he himself noticed, everyone seemed to except her. ,,You take great care of her Faramir, you are like your brother,” Aragorn once said to him when they were both fetching water together to wash some clothes and clean their weapons from the blood of fallen beasts and orcs.

A statement that annoyed and even threatened to enrage the red-haired prince's bright eyes looked at the king with distaste, ,,I am not my brother Aragorn and is it not a man's duty to protect every woman and child?” he left the king at the river with the question. He did not see the look on Frodo's face, who saw from afar how he put the ring in his shirt and almost felt something like a pull towards the man.

A metal of strength is about to find a new owner. But the few incidents did not stop there and the days went on, they went on and on and at some point he himself came to the mines full of terrible monsters in which he saw for the first time what she was capable of.

The mine seemed to collapse, the creatures too many and Faramir knew that he would soon run out of arrows, Legolas tried to protect the hobbits while saving Gimli from any stones while Aragorn tried to lure the hell troll to him and was backed down by the red-haired one.

Only she stayed with the wizard who was also trying to free Peri and Meri who were half trapped under stones. There was a loud clamor from all around and Faramir remembered the battles he had fought, battles that seemed so much easier to fight with the one ring.

A thought followed by a glance at Frodo who was wounded, a thought that made him careless he did not see the hell troll throw a stone at him. ,,Faramir!” her voice called after him, his bright eyes looking to her but she was gone, she was just standing there.

Did it matter if he was going to be crushed by the stone at any moment? The pain would be strong but short and then a light a light in front of him a light that deflected the stone with a blow and it crumbled against the wall.

A light with a power he never knew she had in her, so strong that it could not reach Galadriel but so strong that even Gandalf looked at her for a moment. ,,Are you all right?” she asked standing in front of him in this fight and at that moment he wanted nothing more than to pull her close and finally kiss her to show her that he was not only worth saving but that he could be more than just a helpless twelfth son.

A greed that commanded him and would not let go, a lust for power and light within her. A desire something that matured in him as this battle ended as they moved on as they lost Gandalf their tears glistened in the dark and Faramir held her close and he not only felt her heart beat in his chest, he held her tender hands and gently stroked her back.

It was a time in which the group rode more and more into the dark world in which they were pursued and hunted and crossed the river and the courage of the group sank significantly after Gandalf's death, he was now an important part of the group, a powerful ally who was now gone. But now, as they looked back at the campfire, the sun was setting after their arduous journey across the lake.

The rays no longer illuminated the group and he saw how the gleam in her eyes seemed to have dimmed after the grief, ,,Do you want to go fetch wood with me again?” he leaned over to her without sitting close to her, his hand next to hers and brushing against hers again and again.

He knew that the others saw when they wanted to, he knew that the others saw him…that the others looked at his pretty Elbe. That the others wanted her too, but he paid attention to her, he was the only one who dared to look at her beauty like that if it was only for him. A prince with treasure for his father's appreciation forgiveness and obsession spreading in him.

She nodded and gave the group a gentle smile, reassuring the hobbits that they would be right back and they could take care of themselves before the two of them walked away from the group of hobbits that was sitting on the riverbank and into the forest.

Despite the fact that the sun had already set slightly, the leaves shone in a yellow orange and red hue making their own field and Faramir saw how his pretty light seemed to adore the forest.

Her eyes were closed, ,,I've never seen the dark streak before,” he commented as she tucked a few of her loose light hairs behind her cute pointed ears, a single cob black streak beneath the light blonde hair.

She nodded and opened her eyes to look at him, ,,The darkness that spreads the journey will be so desperate by the time we reach the mountain that even Legolas will feel uncomfortable. The connection to my home is fading…the streak a symbol of the loss and rebirth of Gandaldf” she replied and continued to walk a little ahead looking for wood on the ground but the further they walked not only seemed to move away from the others but she did not see the same darkness behind her.

As the prince's bright eyes went from her to the small old ruin an old constuction a well whatever it was a constuction of times past. But they both no they both had something together a future it was only clear that he had something special with him in that future. ,,I'll have you by my side for the future to come,” he said, moving slightly around her, seeing her sit down on the stone, seemingly feeling the past and a soft smile playing around her lips again.

,,Yes, it is good to know you are a loyal companion with us, Faramir,” she replied, a hint of naivety in her eyes, her good humor almost cute that such a high holy being was so stupid, a stupid elf made for him. His pretty queen at his side and it would only take a bow shot to kill Frodo, he would kill the hobbit himself with his hands if he got the ring that way.

She didn't see the dark cloak's hood blow off his head in the breeze, his usually bright eyes darkening as something corrupted him. The wolf of the group released his cloak and bit. Reaching his hand out to her he took hers and pulled her up from the stone she stood before him hearing her slightly confused, ,,Faramir?” before he pulled her closer finally kissing those lips as that voice inside him demanded, as that voice had demanded from the beginning.

He heard another stifled sound from her, like she wanted to say something else but was lost in the kiss. He felt her strength as she tried to break away, her voice sounding like she wanted to call for help, but with a swift push of his foot he made her topple over, her graceful manner seemingly gone in the face of a situation that was new to her. He could feel a trepidation in him at the thought that he would be her first in all her lifetime, her first and only.

A human prince, no, soon a steward who would make such a pretty maiden his. ,,Shhh not so my light I'll take care of you the others won't hurt you” he murmured to her after he had detached himself from her her body hit the leafy ground but she seemed to catch herself for a moment he saw her holler.

A fist that would have hit had he not slipped a hand under her dress and squeezed the skin of her thigh. Feeling the soft flesh in his hand, he knew now how soft she was, how soft her skin was, how beautiful his bites and kisses would look on her skin.

Her blow was little more than a light push against his chest she tried to crawl away from him the leaves crunched but he wouldn't let her shift his weight forward too hard for her to get away.

,,Faramir, please, not me-I never have,” she tried to say in her sweet belief that she could still get rid of him that way, but she cracked as the redhead laughed and his one hand, still running over her soft skin, moved closer to her hair with the other, his lips kissing her clothed breasts.

But the fabric could hardly have done any harm, it was not yet the right time to sacrifice the group for her, he would still need time. But the wolf had plenty of time to feast on her. ,,You've never been such a pretty creature, tell me?” he asked, tugging lightly on her hair and watching the warmth of shame flinch away from her body, such a pretty emotion on her, simply enchanting.

She seemed so vulnerable and almost as dirty as a human being, degrading such a beautiful creature with abilities he would never have into something despicably sentient. Heavenly. ,,Come on tell me dear,” he demanded, letting go of her hair and pulling her ear instead before biting into it, smirking when he heard her sigh and she seemed surprised by her own noises and avoided his gaze.

But he wanted to see her, wanted to see everything of her, which is why his lips ran over her breasts, the fabric showing slight dull wet spots where he ran his tongue over them, she wasn't wearing an undergarment, dangerously so when they had crossed the river…but she probably wanted it that way too. ,,Say it!” he hissed, increasing the pressure on her neck so that he could clearly hear the air sing out as she gave him a pleading look before she nodded, or at least what he thought was a nod.

She stifled a cough before admitting softly, ,,I-I've…never had a man before,” a fact he could have guessed without looking but now it seemed like an invited feast for him, for the power, for his love, for his obsession for the kindness thrown away for his apparent true nature.

His hand moved from her neck to her jaw and he turned her head to his, ,,So will I be as your first worthy of a true warrior” he gave her a hint of his inner freedom a hint of his plan a hint of his things. Satisfied, he saw her nod in fear, agreeing with him, her mind seemingly overwhelmed by the situation, ,,I'm here, just let it go my love,” he told her before his hand moved up from her thigh, pulling down the fabric of the loincloth, but he saw her seemingly trying to escape again.

He felt that light again, the warmth of that something, saw that light again on her hands, ,,An attempt at your charms my lady,” he stated firmly and simply reached up to kiss her fingers, feeling her shudder and recoil as the light of her home disappeared in such a revealing act.

His lips kissed her knuckles and he licked greedily over the palm of her hand, tasting that warm power she would love, he knew. ,,But you are enough for me,” he murmured to her before he opened the waistband of his trousers and her plea was muffled with a palm. he knew that if Legolas had heard her, he would have been here minutes ago.

He would not even have been able to touch the elf before legolas would have shot him. ,,The prince and the others might even like what they hear and therefore don't come to help,” he joked, smiling at his own words before he pushed her dress up and pulled her back towards him by the bone, so pretty in front of him, so disheveled and belonging to him.

He felt her shiver and sniffle as she cried again and his fingers brushed it away to soothe her, ,,You'll see as soon as father sees what I have, he'll agree to this marriage. He will approve of me and you will shed tears of joy dear, believe me,” he told her before he grabbed her leg over his shoulder and entered her with a final brush away of her tears.

Warm and soft was her body and tight he was her first he could almost feel the slightly warm blood flowing between them as he took her maiden head he took her for himself first.

He would have loved to give it to his father, no to the whole kingdom of Gondor what the second son the real son did. ,,I'll take ah-an Elven woman,” he murmured between heavy breaths after so long he finally had the body of a woman again, had an Elf beneath him with twisted eyes and reddish colored ears, a rapidly lowering and raising chest and her delicate hands over her lips.

The thought of having her so naked in front of him only made her even more undressed in front of all of Gondor in front of his father who gave him that grin.

That grin that the steward had when anger and injustice entered his mind, the expression of Boromir full of lust and restraint, ,,You are mine alone, do you understand?” the redhead asked from his lustful imagination, his world around him disappearing in a dream of lust and reverie. He could already hear the chains of her collar rattling and she looked unbelievably beautiful to him and only to him.

But all she did was sniffle, a low moan escaping from between her lips every now and then, and he could see that she was praying herself away. Naivety makes you vulnerable. His hand on her hip, his nails pressing into her skin, he would leave marks on her, he would mark her with his lips, his teeth, his fingers, his sword and his blood.

She would be a sign of his achievement for the first time while his father gave him the throne. But this pain seemed to be enough for the poor girl, she nodded her panting, crying, almost that of a cow, but that would be his pretty elven cow, his wife and one day the mother of his children.

Children prettier than anything in Gondor, children a sign of his love for her with the sweet light hair and bright eyes and the human stature. Everything he would do to her he would do to Gondor, everything he would do for her approval, possession and for his father.

Thoughts that drove him to take her faster and deeper, her other leg also over his shoulder, her protests drowned in his moans and her stifled cries that were barely suppressed by a kiss from him.

He took her deeper faster driven to his climax by her every sound, noise and look, his thoughts the mix of gentleness to her completely melting and sinking into those words of the power of the ring, his father and his brother.

Her hands sometimes clung to him out of fear, trying to push him away completely worthless, he saw the nipples of her soft breasts that fit so perfectly in his hands when he kneaded them against the fabric and he didn't have to look between them to see her overtaxed cunt taking him a mix of the first drops of his lust, her blood and juices.

,,Ah if-if Galadriel saw you like this…my ruined Elve whore,” he chuckled darkly between lustful noises as he sucked on her neck again, hearing her rapid heartbeat, shaking her head and a reply that only ended in another moan.

It went on like this for a few more moments as he took her as he pleased and her protests remained minimal. He knew he was getting close to his climax knew he was cumming inside her knew how scared she would be, ,,I'll stay ah-fuck you” he told her as his fingers gripped her body even tighter, his lips seeking hers and taking her pleas with him as he buried himself inside her.

He felt her tighten around him, a jolt seeming to go through her body as he stayed inside her for a few more moments while he continued to kiss her, his hands caressing her. A monster would have killed her, but a noble prince took care of his pretty whore.

Before he slowly pulled out of her, her whimper was only a small sound as he readjusted himself and stood over her. His hand caught lightly in her hair and played with it for a moment as she pulled the dress back over her uterine crown as quickly as she could.

Her eyes looked up at him and he looked down at her, ,,A stranger is not believed in a land ruled by men dear…you only have me” he said to her not seeing the shadow of his father behind him that Faramir was the true son after all as his father was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

She wanted to turn away from him to be alone but he grabbed her chin and bent down to her, ,,Did you understand that? Do you understand that you belong to me?” he asked before his lips twisted into a greedy grin and he gave her one last kiss on the head.

She had nodded her head in agreement as her abandoned, tearful, bright eyes met his dark ones. He pulled away but they both knew he was right she had no one her mistress would go to the eternal lands and she had no one she had only him she had the prince…she had Faramir and was not only at his mercy but also at the mercy of dark forces.

As the red-haired man laid down his fangs like the wolf, the blood had been gleefully deposited into his flesh and he had put his hooded cloak back on as the cheerful expression put into his gaze when he saw his “friends” again and the grip on his weapon strengthened it.

The wolf in sheep's clothing waited before he struck again and ended up with the path of necessary sacrifices and corpses behind him and his queen at his side ruling over Gondor.

[faegoddessog]

 Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch. 23/41

Chapter  23: So Hot I Can't Stop

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, cunnilingus, fingering, anal fingering (f. receiving), masturbating, squirting, unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll!)

Series Masterlist

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes  involved here. 

Chapter  23: So Hot I Can't Stop

Rita stopped by a few days ago. She Ooo’d and Ahh’d over the finished bathroom. She had called all the references you gave her, they had nothing but glowing things to say about you. She really wants you to do their house in Greece. You explained to her the timeline you are working with right now and that especially if you get the Antarctica job, it will probably be a year before you can do it. She’s cool with that.

She had asked a few questions about Austin, with a glint in her eye. You answered honestly, that you'd not seen him in a few days, even though he is graciously letting you use his kitchen. She just nodded knowingly, uh huh. She commented that Tom is totally impressed with him and that this will be his big breakthrough role. You had agreed, he is impressive, your own glint sparkling.

It’s been about 5 days since you’ve seen Austin. A couple times, you think he came in late at night and slept curled around you for a few hours. The dent in the pillow next to you in the morning was a tell-tale sign.

Since you are using his kitchen, you made a dinner plate for him and left it in his fridge with a note each night. It’s gone every morning, so you know he’s been home. You passed a few texts between you each day, but you have both been busy.

Today is painting day.

You are decked out in your preferred outfit for painting: a white tank top and panties, plus mask and goggles and noise canceling earbuds. You finish spraying the last wall and stop to dance and sing to the song playing in your ears.

“It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me”

You look up and see Austin is leaning on the front door, arms crossed, watching you with a grin on his face, key dangling on his finger.

“And I’m feeling good!” you sing the last line at him and laugh.

He looks delicious in a white t-shirt and tan slacks. He is barefoot.

“How long have you been there?” you ask in a mask-muffled voice, taking out your earbuds.

“Long enough.” he laughs, looking you up and down, “Not that I’m complaining, but why are you mostly naked, you are covered in little specks of paint!”

You take off your goggles and mask and shrug, “It’s hot and paint is easier to get off of skin than clothes if you moisturize correctly.”

You motion for him to follow you to the bathroom, where you begin to clean your paint sprayer.

“You continually amaze me with how sexy you make construction,” he says in that deep, low rumble that causes you to involuntarily moan a bit in the back of your throat.

“Thanks babe, want to help me wash it off?” you offer, looking over your shoulder coyly and tilting your head to the shower. You know you are a mess, dried paint smudges all over and hair in a bespeckled bun.

“Not yet, I don’t think you are dirty enough yet,” he comes up behind you, looking at you in the mirror and snaking his hands around your ribs and cupping your breasts through the thin fabric. Your nipples start to harden in his palms.

“Oh, well let me finish cleaning this real quick,’” you start rinsing as quickly as you can. “Take your time, I’ll be right here,” his thumbs graze your nipples.

You consider abandoning the sprayer, but you know you have to clean it before it gets clogged.

His hands are roaming all around your body, stoking the fire in your core as you twist off the paint cup and start rinsing. His hands sliding on your ass cheeks and around to the front, over your belly and down. The pads of his long fingers running along the crease between your leg and pussy, teasing.

You are frantically scrubbing out the nozzle with an old toothbrush.

His thumbs hook onto your panties and slide them down and off. Your hands are full of watery paint and there is nothing you can do to stop him, as if you’d want to. He traces a line up your thigh and over your hips. You can feel little callouses from his guitar playing on his left hand. His dexterous fingers gently glide over your now naked labia, pressing them together just a bit at the root.

You moan in the back of your throat. You love the feel of his hands on you, how he knows all your little tantalizing spots. You have stopped trying to clean your damn paint sprayer and rinse the paint off your hands.

He continues up your ribs, catching your tank top and pulling it over your head.

You go to turn around to kiss him. He stops you and places your hands on the counter, staring at your eyes in the mirror.

“You keep those hands right there,” he says in your ear, “don't move them.”

Shivers course down your spine.

You are standing, completely naked, hands on the counter as he reaches around to cup and rub your breasts, pinching your nipples and pushing his fully clothed hips against your back side.

You feel his rigid length through his loose slacks. You start to reach back to rub him.

He grabs your wrists and presses your hands back to the counter.

“Now, now, I told you to keep them there. If you move them again I’ll stop. Understand?” He growls, hot breath on your neck. His eyes are serious, his brows slightly furrowed.

You nod.

“Now be a good dirty girl and spread your legs," oh god his voice is fucking amazing in your ear.

You step to each side and wetness starts to seep between your lower lips.

His right hand traces down your back, over the crack of your ass to those lips. His hands are magic. You can’t help but press your hips back towards him.

“Oh my, so wet. Do you like being all naked and exposed to me?” he dips a gentle finger barely into you and spreads that wetness around.

“Yes, I do,” you say a little breathlessly as he nears your clit.

“Mmmm, I like it too. What to do with such a dirty girl,” he spreads the wetness back toward your asshole. He is watching your reactions reflected back at him.

You stare back at his eyes, lifting an eyebrow. “Anything you want,” you boldly declare licking and biting your bottom lip. You spread your legs a little wider, arching and offering yourself to his whim.

He steps back, you make a little sound of disappointment. He rubs his chin between his forefinger and thumb, pinching his full bottom lip, considering his options. He looks your back side up and down, then at your naked reflection in the mirror, all the while absentmindedly rubbing his cock through his pants with his other hand. Then he sits down between your legs with his back to the cabinet. His face is perfectly positioned at your dripping cunt.

“This is what I want," he says, looking up, capturing you with those stunning eyes of his, “keep your hands there.”

His tongue tastes the slickness between your legs and he emits a low throaty growl of pleasure. His fingers open your folds to reveal your nub. He gently licks around your clit as he slowly slides his long fingers inside of you, curving them just a little.

You moan, eyes closed, head back.

He starts to use a flat tongue to lap and suck your clit as he glides in and out of you slowly. You look down, his eyes are closed. His head is gently moving and rolling as he doles out pleasure with his tongue, receiving as much as he is giving. Just watching him indulge in your snatch, is almost as arousing as what he is doing. Add in the quietly depraved noises he is making, and you are in heaven.

He stops licking, pulls his fingers out and presses the thumb on his other hand into your wet slit. Then slides it back to your asshole and looks up at you inquiringly. He is ever the gentleman.

Your eyes widen with excitement, the only response you can muster is nodding frantically.

Grinning at you, he rubs the pad of this thumb on your asshole. The nerve endings there are bringing new zinging sensations to your pelvic floor. Gently he pushes his wet thumb into you.

Your hips are yearning towards his face, silently begging for his tongue. He complies, face buried in your pussy, extraordinary tongue dancing on your folds and clit. You relax to let his thumb in. His other fingers slide back into your pussy and you feel him get to his first knuckle or so in your ass.

“Oh. My. Gods. That is so fucking good," you say in a desperate whisper as he moves both hands in and out alternatively, slowly at first. You start twitching your hips into his lashing tongue.

“Harder, please harder,” you moan.

“There’s my dirty girl,” he says huskily against your folds.

He captures your swollen clit in his mouth and starts sucking as his fingers pound into you. You feel a tell tale fullness inside you.

Gripping the counter to keep from collapsing, you start to go over the edge. A wail rips through your throat as your juices flood his face and hands, squirting down onto his still clothed body. He slows down his pace, but is lapping the sweet liquid from your lips, making you twitch in aftershocks. He pulls back, his face and shirt so wet.

He stands up in front of you, forcing you to take a step back, hands still on the counter. Turning around, he quickly washes his hands in the paint covered sink, Your forehead pressed against his back, you shake and shiver. Wiping his chin, he steps to the side, breaking your grip on the counter, pulling you directly in front of him.

His wet fingers are unzipping his fly and he takes out his hard-as-rock cock. He has an animalistic look on his face of deep need and desire. He can’t even be bothered to take off the clothes you soaked.

He pushes you back with a growl, kissing you fiercely and picking you up onto the counter between the double vanity sinks. He slides his cock into your pussy and groans. He grips your hips and begins to thrust into you.

You thought you were done, but as he fills you over and over again you feel that exquisite fullness. You reach down and rub your clit side to side.

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod” you are whispering. With a high pitched whine you push, he pulls out and your deluge stains the front of his pants dark and wet.

“Don’t stop,” You reach down and slide him into you again, “I need you more.”

“So. fucking. hot.” he says, each word punctuated with a thrust.

His pace quickens, slamming into you over and over.

His eyes close and a deep rough grunting moan escapes him as he plunges into you and shakes. The hands on your hips gripping hard as he cums inside you.

Seeing him come makes you grind your hips up and down on his cock, You have hit insatiable mode. He is shivering as you ride his still hard cock.

“No, no, no,” you beg as he pulls his cock out, your hips are shaking.

One eyebrow goes up and he smiles, panting. He pets your pussy teasingly, “Did you miss me, do you want these in you Kitten?”

Your jaw is tight, nostrils flared, that demon in you is about to eat him alive. You grab his fingers and push them into your pussy, sopping wet with his cum and your squirting.

“Fuck that pussy hard,” you demand, locking eyes with him. He leans over the counter, grabbing you by the back of the neck, his long fingers squeezing the sides. Putting his forehead to yours, he slams his fingers into you.

“Come on, dirty girl. Cum again for me. No, don't close your eyes, look right at me,” his voice is raspy and demanding.

You are rubbing your clit, hard, clenching your pussy onto his fingers. Lying back onto the marble, legs spread wide with the hottest man on the planet begging you to cum and forcing you to stare into his soul.

“Oh, fuck fuck FUUUUUHH”, you scream as you squirt a fountain over his hand, the counter, his stomach, as you come completely undone. Your whole body shivers and shakes and all you can see are his blue ocean eyes.

You aren’t sure where he ends and you begin as he slides his still hard cock into you again. Nirvana, Euphoria.

“God damn Kitten, you got me so fucking hot I can’t stop,” he pummels your drenched pussy. He goes, and goes, and goes almost savagely. Sweat is dripping off his face and onto your belly. You aren’t sure if you ever stopped cumming. All you can do is ride the wave and moan.

He finally pulls out and strokes his cock standing over you, his voice a strangled roar. Your hips are writhing as you rub yourself, you don’t have any more to gush, but the feeling of his cum surging onto your naked lips and belly sends you over a different precipice as you explode into pieces.

Neither of you have any words, heaving, shuddering. He holds you to earth, bent over you with his forehead back on yours. After a minute or two, he pulls you off the counter and to your feet, gathering you in his arms.

As your breathing slows, you notice he is still dressed in sopping clothes.

“Sorry about your clothes, I guess you are just as dirty as I am now,” you lazily giggle.

“Oh no, that was worth it,” he smiles at you, letting his pants drop and stripping his shirt off, “now we can shower.”

[intothecest]

Tropes of Cest #1 Royalty

I used to have loose ongoing series of posts, Other Cest Ships, where I did deep dives into particular ships I liked other than the one I started the blog for (Dipper and Mabel from Gravity Falls, for those of you who are newer), and even though they didn't get much reach, they were fun, and it was something to do other than just promote my own stories. I might pick that series up again as well, but I realized I'd also like to do some deeper dives into some favorite tropes of stories involving incest. So, welcome to the first instalment of Tropes Of Cest.

I'll declare up front that, unless otherwise stated, for all tropes I'm dealing with only consensual pairings (although including ones where they may not realize going into it that they're related, or where the outcomes might be tragic - the desire is real and that's what's most important). Pairings are also not necessarily sexual, particularly where younger characters are involved, but may just be romantic or pining. The key distinction is I'm usually not dealing with these tropes where outright abuse is the reason the incest (or incestuous feelings that may fall short of action) happens. I'm mostly interested in exploring the tropes in cases where where both parties have feelings and want the situation or pine for more. Yes, there will be abusive examples of these tropes out there (and unfortunately in RL situations which are similar to them), and they might once in a while come up, but this isn't what this trope analyses series is interested in. For that matter, even if sometimes--in a real world situation--it might be wise to treat the situation as abusive, despite everyone involved willingly engaging in it, we're still not considering it necessarily abusive for fictional cases described here. For these, we may adopt the headcanon that these are exceptions who are uniquely mature or self-possessed and nobody is actually being harmed (by the relationship itself, at least). Also see my general disclaimer on such problematic ships.

The first trope I'll be exploring is… Royalty!

For the purpose of this, I use 'royalty' to cover nobility in general as well, as well as Heads of State and their families (at least while they hold the role). It's less about specific titles and more about power. Those in power can have all the same taboo yearning as the rest of us, except their privilege can insulate from the negative consequences of following their desires. Sometimes it can even make it more likely… if you've grown up with the idea that your family is fundamentally better than everyone else, the logical extension is that they're where you should find someone to share your life with. Paradoxically, it can also make things more difficult, because an ordinary middle-class couple might be able to escape to somewhere they're not known, but if you're in the public eye, it's harder to get away with things, and you might lose everything when it's discovered. Either way, whether it's arranged marriages or secret affairs that could cost everything, there's something about royalty that lends itself to incest… and that's leaving out fantasy elements, portal fantasies that take them away from their own world, special bloodlines with magic powers, or strange curses intended to punish the royal family but instead wind up putting bringing them together.

Pairings it applies to: Honestly, it's wide open. As usual, Sibling pairings are my favorite, but cousins are surprisingly common and not necessarily even controversial. Nieces and uncles work well, aunts and nephews perhaps less common in a 'based on history' setting but no different. There's fairy tale examples of parent/child (although usually they're abusive and unwanted by one party, I have seen the occasional exception). Queer pairings can also be loads of fun (again, maybe in terms of acknowledged relationships in history, a little rarer, but fuck history, it misses so much anyway).

RL?: I mean, as just mentioned, it happens. Royal families are kinda known for it, which is perhaps one of the reasons it works so well as a trope for fiction, divorced from the negatives. In fact, for most of the hetero pairings, I can point to a historical example at least of the marriage (perhaps not parent/child or grand- stuff--although I'm sure that also happens it's far more often abusive and hidden variety).

Fun ways to play with the trope: Lots of them honestly. There's the potential attitude of "Who would dare stop us? We're in charge!" allowing people to explore impulses they might otherwise shy away from. There's 'preserving the bloodline' kinks (which is not usually my thing but with this trope I can like). There's the 'arranged marriage, only it turns out they fall in love.' And the 'arranged loveless marriage with unrelated people but a cesty affair that makes their life worth living.' There's loads of fun with bastards, either where characters don't know they're related to the one they're falling in love with because the king was screwing around, or alternatively, where everyone KNOWS they're related but it's officially unacknowledged, and the characters are in each others orbits, one getting everything and the other getting almost nothing leading to tension that erupts in an unexpected way. I already mentioned curses, and you could easily imagine a Sleeping Beauty situation but the prince is related to her (I mean don't just randomly kiss sleeping girls you find, but pretend he knew that was what was necessary to break the curse), but royalty also gets more than its fair share of prophecies… and prophecies can be twisted in fun ways. "You will marry a princess." I mean your sister's a princess! Or hey, two siblings, each individually told a prophecy that they are the heirs of the rightful king, and are in fact the Chosen One who will defeat the Dark Power and take their rightful place on the throne. It only occurs to them later that this means they will defeat the Dark Power together and subsequently will rule together… and the only way to do that is to marry.

Canon-examples (non-exhaustive): Game of Thrones is the obvious one (and House of the Dragon) to start with. We got siblings with the Lannisters, obviously, and as time went on had aunt/nephew and cousins that were either canon or strong contenders to be such. And in HotD, an uncle/niece pairing where they genuinely seemed very much in love (although not unproblematic a relationship in many ways). I believe the series Reign implied a canon half-sibling sexual experience (in the past) between one character and her half-sibling who was an unacknowledged bastard. Arthurian legend also regularly includes Mordred as King Arthur's bastard son with his half-sister. Another example that comes to mind is the Chronicles of Amber, where it's established at one point that Corwin (the main character for the first several books) was in love with one of his sisters (who is sadly dead before the story starts), and at one point has an affair with a grand-niece. In several stories, the Borgias (who are of course real people but as I understand it the evidence of an actual relationship there is slim, but as 'fictional characters who are based on real people' it's absolutely canon). Crimson Peak, also… both of these also fall into the 'villainous incest' trope which might get explored at a later date. Classically, there's the tale of Oedipus (although of course that's not the happiest ending), among others. Dune I believe occurs a couple times, at least in terms of marriage for political reasons (and vibes for a few more). In certain Marvel universes (and by stretching the definitions a bit), Quicksilver/Scarlet Witch/Polaris/Magneto form a sort of 'mutant royal family' and Wanda/Pietro at least have occasionally been canon, so I'm calling them a canon comics example, deal with it. (Fenris, arguably as well - their father was a baron!). And, you know what, Leia is a Princess, so let's call Star Wars a canon example.

Carnival Row is a world not-like-ours, but two of the antagonists might as well be considered nobility, and are absolutely canon in their cest. I'd say Flash Gordon, the 1980 movie, deliberately suggests incest stuff goes on with Ming and his daughter Aura (and although I've never seen it, shipcestuous listed the 2007 TV series as 'canon suggestive' with Aura and her brother who was invented for the show).

I don't think Laon and Catherine from the novel Under the Pendulum Sun are nobility per se, as much as upper class Victorian Brits, so they might not actually count, but hey, while they're in Arcadia they live a house described as pretty much a castle, and they are absolutely a thoroughly shippable canon incest pairing, so I'm mentioning them anyway.

Oh, and though other examples from that universe are dealt with below, I'm calling Desna and Eska from Legend of Korra as canon. I don't care if it's not explicit. You can give me creepy twins who are always together without me calling it canon. But you can't give me a scene where Eska checks into a hotel, one room for the both of them, and when questioned about the weirdness of that, tosses off "Desna sleeps in the tub" and not have me consider it absolutely canon. Fight me.

Near-canon examples (even less exhaustive): Azula and Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender (since Azula's voice actor seems to be into shipping them and played one of their major scenes like a seduction). I mean Thor/Loki often feels pretty close to canon (Loki did selfcest in his own series and when questioned about whether it was princesses or another prince he said 'bit of both' - except what other prince but Thor?). Close enough to call it near-canon. Similarly, Wanda/Pietro, canon in some universes, near-canon in many others. (If you stretch Fenris to the Strucker siblings from Fox's The Gifted, I'd call them near-canon, but I'm not sure whether--in that universe--they qualify as nobility).

Canon characters it would easily suit, for shipping puposes (really pretty hard to exhaust, especially if you're determined to look for them): Obviously you gotta start with the Pevensies, from the Chronicles of Narnia. Four siblings become Kings and Queens of Narnia, living whole adult lives (before returning through the wardrobe and back into their child lives)… it just seems natural they would pair up. Arguably you could put them in 'near-canon' examples, but I genuinely don't believe anyone involved in the production of that tale intended that, which is part of my criteria for 'near-canon' (even if I can't prove it).

Elsanna in Frozen launched a thousand shippers (and I'm tempted to call it near canon because surely on a big production Disney movie SOMEBODY saw it and was there for it)

Illyana Rasputin (Magik) from X-Men comics is queen of her own dimension, so I'm counting her as royalty, since I already ship her and her brother Piotr (Colossus).

I'll be honest though… even though I like this trope, I don't watch or read a lot of stuff with royalty in the first place, so my examples here are going to be sparse.

Oh, I suppose Peter Wiggins eventually becomes Hegemon (largely with help from his sister), which means my Ender's Game ship counts here as well.

Canon characters you could mangle into the trope but probably in an AU (there's no exhausting these possible): It's easy enough to imagine any pair you already like in an AU where they're royalty or nobility, obviously, although for me it works best when there's already something special about the family… like, to take a random example, you could make the family in The Middle royalty, but at that point their life is so different you're pretty much dealing with completely different characters who share names and appearances… and though it might be fun to imagine say Letterkenny as a royal family in a fantasy world… okay that just sounds pretty fun and you could probably maintain character traits so lets just call that an example. Still, something like The Baudelaires in A Series of Unfortunate Events feels like a more natural extension - the secret society could be transformed into an actual nobility easily enough (I don't believe Olaf is actually a Count, otherwise I might count them in one of the above categories… although technically he did try to marry Violet so could put them into canon if you did). Superhero families, of any kind, also translate easily into royalty AUs - their special abilities already put them above the common people, so I could see the Fantastic Four, for example, being nobility and Johnny/Sue carrying on an affair. Superman and Supergirl are arguably nobility already just by virtue of the fact that most of the other Kryptonians are dead. Even if they're like 10 millionth in the line of succession they're at the top of the list now (and, in some universes and eras, canon, at least feelings-wise, so maybe I should have put that up top).

Another approach is to make characters who aren't siblings into siblings, and where royalty is involved, this is often more natural than other stories. One example is The Princess Bride, where I sometimes headcanon that Westley is the bastard son of Buttercup's father, kept on the farm to keep him close and employed but never told the truth. She arguably starts as a commoner but if the Prince marries her she's probably got a noble lineage (and hey, even if the marriage "didn't count" because she didn't say "I do", to everyone else it counted, and she therefore became a princess). Similarly, you could imagine one of the real reasons Romeo and Juliet's family were so opposed was that at least some of them knew that one of the two children was the result of an affair between two of the spouses and thus they're half siblings. There. I just improved Shakespeare for you. You're welcome.

One Story Prompt: I've had this one for a while. I might have already posted the idea here, or maybe anonymously to shipcestuous who has much wider reach. But, contrary to its reputation, the Bastille in France was often used as an upper class prison as well, and was relatively comfortable… at least, if you were a member of the nobility (it was also reasonably comfortable--by prison standards--for commoners as well, but we're not dealing with them). Rich prisoners could still have lavish meals, a full wardrobe, even servants, sometimes… you just couldn't leave. Sometimes, whole families were imprisoned together… the Wikipedia entry says that in 1746 the family of Lord Morton and their entire household were detained in the Bastille as British spies - the family's domestic life continued on inside the prison relatively normally.

So imagine a family locked up in the Bastille (or a similar prison, for detaining nobility that needs to be put out of circulation but not to be harmed or given undue suffering)… and love blossoming between two siblings (or the pair of your choice), realizing that, there, at least, they are given the opportunity to be together, rather than her being married off or him being expected to go off to lead a regiment or whatever, and that they like each other's company. At first they tell themselves they are experimenting with romantic play due to the lack of other options, but soon it becomes more, and they have to cope with not only getting away with things under the noses of their family, but also the guards, and oh dear, what if a pregnancy happens? I don't think I could write it, not being good with stuff that isn't modern day or the future, but I still think it would make a fantastic story.

To sum up: Consanguinamory: Some may call it royally fucked up, but it's heir to a a noble history! It's not just for Westeros, it's for the rest of us!

If I've missed any examples in any category, or you have your own story prompts, please, either comment or (even better) just reblog and add your own. Topic suggestions are also welcome. I don't promise any regularity to this series, but ideas are always helpful.

[c-is-for-circinate]

Ok cool you know what?  I’m at home doing nothing but online tutoring for the next two weeks.  It’s time to make a self-quarantine goals list.

(Yes.  Yes, this is what 2020 has brought to us.  This is the world we live in and I’m just leaning into it at this point.)

So!  Goals!

Write at least 2 respectably-lengthed meta posts about the most recent episode of CR, and post them before the next one airs

Clean up my living room and unpack all remaining boxes from moving in December

Finish writing and post the next section of the Vox Machina/Dragonriders of Pern crack crossover

Do every piece of laundry I own, fold it, and put it away

Fully clean the kitchen, including scrubbing the countertops

Make pasta carbonara

Learn to make puttanesca sauce.  Cook and jar as much as I can reasonably produce with the amount of capers I have on hand

You know what just fucking make homemade pasta, we have a million eggs and the counters will be clean, it doesn’t even matter, do it with a rolling pin and figure it out

Sort through all of my tutoring binders and organize them properly

Start knitting the sleeves to the sweater I’ve been sitting on for months

Finish those damn socks

Order the yarn I need to finish the chunky cowl.  (Support small businesses!)

Organize my knitting needles and other accoutrements properly

Vacuum the living room

Organize my dice

DM at least 1 game via Skype, Zoom, or Discord.  Get my players the fuck out of koboldtown and up to level 3 already.

Take at least 2 nice baths with wine, music, and no laptop death

Relatedly, clean and scrub the bathroom

Read at least 2 paper books

Start and/or finish watching any one of: The Witcher; The Untamed; Knives Out; all of Leverage for the seventeenth time

Answer my work emails once per day

Text my mom every so often so she doesn’t think I died of plague

That seems like a respectable list of things to get done over this impromptu vacation.  I feel good about my chances at accomplishing at least, like, half of that.

If nothing else, I am sure as hell stocked up on things for making interesting pastas.

[where-theres-smoak-2]

I think when it comes to LB and antis they see the Darkling as this powerful souring men who abuses his power and gets alway with it because he’s so handsome while other fans analyse him through the lense of a victim of a minority group who’s survived and lost a lot and who’s had to do what he has to first to survive then to protect his people and as a war general he’s had to make some difficult choices but for some people it’s uncomfortable to see what it takes to actually rule. It’s also interesting how Aleksander’s always the one that’s framed as a powerful man taking advantage and being manipulative while they ignore characters like Nikolai who’s basically part of the monarchy that abuses its people but they don’t critics him or accuse him of being a powerful privileged prince or M*l who’s much close to how a RL abuser looks like. It’s frustrating to try and argue with these people but it’s interesting seeing this from a psychological POV.

I've always said that I didn't think the person LB wanted Aleks to be and the character she wrote were the same. As you said the majority of readers/viewers saw Aleks as a war general who was also part of a minority and who was trying to protect and improve the lives of his people, that meant sometimes he had to make tough choices and get his hands dirty but at the end of the day he was doing it for unselfish reasons and it was all for his people. Whereas LB and antis see him as the hot villain who is powerful but selfish and who preys on and manipulates young girls, to them he is nothing but a cautionary tale.

Then you have the Nikolai thing as you mentioned. He is so very similar to Aleks right down to his desire to own the throne so that he can make a better Ravka and yet unlike Aleks he is praised and heralded as a hero, I mean an example is how antis will always call out the darkling for kissing Alina whilst disguised as M*l because it was against her will yet I've never seen them call out Nikolai for kissing Alina publicly in front of a crowd of people against her will.

As for M*l as you said he is much closer to a rl abuser, I've said it before he reminded me so much of my toxic and controlling ex that I found some moments in the book rather triggering. I will always consider M*lina's relationship to be more damaging than darklina's purely for the fact that it's presented as a healthy relationship when it very clearly is not.

You are also right that it is frustrating to try and argue with antis, I try to remember to not engage and just push that block button though sometimes I do still fail at that as it can be very frustrating for me when anti's use the tags incorrectly or when they use certain terms incorrectly or try to put labels on the darkling that don't belong there. But I am still trying to improve on not being tempted or baited into a argument when I know that they won't change their view no matter if it makes little sense to me. However I do think it shows how fiction can be interpreted in different ways by different people.

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

Even if you believe -- LIKE I BELIEVE -- that bisexual people are bisexual people and valuable members of the queer community even when they’re in monogamous heterosexual relationships, you are allowed to take a hard look at how a story deploys bisexual characters and their relationships, and you are allowed to notice and be displeased when the story seems to reinforce homophobic and biphobic bigotry.

Like. Okay.  I really like the way Roswell, New Mexico has navigated this with Michael’s character.  He is clearly bisexual; his emotional and sexual involvement with Alex and Maria are treated as real and legitimate and honorable, unequivocally Good Things, at least potentially, in Michael’s life.  Yes, he does choose (as of this moment -- future seasons are future) to pursue a relationship with Maria but not Alex, but what I think is important and effective is that Alex is always shown not as the bullet he dodged or a wrong road he briefly went down in his youth, not as some confusion or derail or detour from his life, and certainly not as the kinky sexual experimentation of Someone With a Complicated Dark Side.  Alex is always, always, always shown, by the way the characters discuss him and by his function in the plot, as some combination of Michael’s Ex Who Is Still a Dear Friend and The One Who Got Away (and on his own, separate from his relationship with Michael, as a capital-h Hero who is also a gay man).  They had a youthful relationship, full of youthful intensity, and life kind of happened and things just -- didn’t work out.  But the relationship was real, the closeness remains, and the legacy of that intensity continues to color their interactions.  Nothing about Michael and Alex make me feel like being with Maria is something that saved Michael or, uh, set him straight, as it were.  She’s just the next big relationship in Michael’s life, and he’s bisexual.

In contrast, I really, really, really do not like the way Crazy Ex-Girlfriend navigated this with Darryl. I do not deny that Darryl is bisexual!  The show did not “make him straight” when they wrote him breaking up with his boyfriend and marrying a woman.  But it’s -- really -- pretty fucked up, the arc they give Darryl.  Here’s a character who is above all things a warm, big-hearted family man, whose distinguishing traits are his sweetness, his loyalty, and the joy he takes in being a father.  He’s in a bad marriage, which ends, and his earliest plot arcs are about maintaining his relationship with his daughter.  He has a sexual awakening and a fairly LTR relationship with a younger gay man, which is portrayed as overall quite positive...except that the gay man is entirely unwilling to go in on the one thing that has always defined Darryl -- he doesn’t want to marry Darryl or have kids with him, he is not interested in the traditional family stability that Darryl so clearly loves and craves.  Okay, well -- that happens sometimes.  They break up so that Darryl can pursue having more kids on his own, but remain friendly.  I don’t love that an otherwise rewarding queer relationship is depicted as something Darryl has to extricate himself from to have the family he wants, but -- I’m not writing it, okay. It’s a choice.  But at the very end of the series, when it’s wrapping up everyone’s plotlines, the show does two things: it abruptly introduces a woman with a daughter (who receives no real characterization other than Woman With a Daughter) that Darryl quickly marries, creating a lovely large-ish blended family with a mom, and dad, and three kids -- and it makes WiJo, the only specifically gay character on the show, appear in the final scene as an isolated, bitter figure, sitting apart from his friends, bitching about the character everyone else is here to celebrate, not just single but deeply alone.  He’s so alone that the fact his fucking house recently burned down is delivered as a throwaway line by a “friend” of his who has clearly all but forgotten about it.

And that’s -- so fucked up!  It’s not fucked up because Darryl is not allowed to be with a woman.  It’s fucked up because the show has hammered in this clear distinction between Happy Family Man Darryl, whose every wholesome dream of being a husband and father has come true, and Bitter Lonely Queen Josh, who began the series as a jovial and successful, if a little sharp-elbowed, character, and now sits alone in a bar having lost everything.  That’s not just a neutral character choice. It leaves the viewer with the distinct taste in their mouth of queerness being a life detour for Darryl, in between the birth of his two children and his two heterosexual marriages, and it leaves Josh -- who again, has been a series regular all along! That we liked and rooted for! -- as some kind of fucked-up cautionary tale about queer loneliness.  Did the show intend for that to be the takeaway message, that queerness ruined Josh’s life and could have ruined Darryl’s if he hadn’t managed his escape?  Almost certainly not!  But the fact that it does, just coincidentally!, perfectly replicate that string of homophobic narratives -- that queerness is an exploratory phase for bisexual people, that real families are straight families, that gay people end up drinking alone and unloved in a bar -- is really fucking bad, no matter what the intentions were, and it can’t be handwaved away by saying “well, sometimes bi people end up in straight relationships!”  Yeah, they do!  But that’s not a get-out-of-jail-free card for literally writing a story that adheres to the ugliest homophobic and biphobic tropes you can think of.  “Sometimes that happens” is never actually a get-out-of-jail-free card for replicating shopworn and harmful stereotypes about marginalized people in your fiction.

I could add a paragraph here about The Magicians, too, but like.  I feel like I’m on record already.  Long story short: see above.  It’s not inherently biphobic that Quentin ends his life (well, the last ten minutes of his life) with a woman and not a man; it is biphobic that the show goes to enormous lengths to code his relationship with Eliot as a “complicated” detour occurring entirely in the space after his straight relationship fell apart and before he was able to restore it, as literally Another Life from Quentin’s real life, and it is homophobic to end a series with your gay series regular living out some kind of retrograde Evangelical scared-straight tragedy of separation from his loved ones and substance abuse, while the bisexual character’s straight love interest is portrayed surrounded by friends, excited by her future, and at peace. (Oops, I added the paragraph.)

It’s bad.  It’s not good.  Even if it wasn’t intentional, it speaks to something real dark that this is the pattern that creators who think of themselves as queer allies just accidentally trip and fall into without even realizing it.  It speaks to how pervasive these narratives  -- of queer relationships as an interlude or a detour for bi people, of straight relationships as more wholesome and more healing than queer ones -- are even among people who would never think of themselves as hating gay people.  And it’s okay to call this shit out, because it is not biphobic or hostile to bi people’s RL straight relationships, to see what’s right in front of us.

Long story short: do not fuck this up for me, Roswell.  I’m counting on you.  

[dephinecormier]

TAG GAME: AO3 #001

I was tagged by the lovely @tales-and-thoughts probably a month ago and am only just getting round to it now because rl is trying to drop kick me into the abyss lmao

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

11

2. What is your total Ao3 word count? 23,931

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

only for marvel (yeah no writing isn’t my first choice as a creative outlet so i haven’t really felt the impulse to write for any other ship and therefore fandom)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? yeah okay read some of these at your own risk, cause it does contain some of my really early works which imo ain’t that great (but yay to improving i guess?)

The War Running Through Our Veins (blackhill, 1.4k, T) She sees the explosive rolling towards her and blue eyes widen. “Everyone get down!” Maria yells as she flips herself over the railing, shielding a fellow agent from the blast and fragments fly into the air, tearing into her flesh

Just Stay Alive, That Would Be Enough (blackhill, 1k, T) Maria’s jaw tightened, as she shifted her gaze to the ceiling taking several deep breaths. “Fine,” she grinded out. “You were reckless, Nat. Running straight into the line of fire!”

holding patterns (blackhill, 4.7k, T) "The Red Room selected the best candidates through genetic screening. My parents were paid off. But my mother, she never stopped looking. I–“ I was wanted, Natasha can’t bring herself to say.

we can just watch the whole world disappear (blackhill, 1k, G) “I’m so tired of this.”

Maria pauses, hand hovering in the air as she looks down at Natasha, realises just how small the woman in front of her truly is without the bravado of the Black Widow mantle behind her. She studies the dark circles under her eyes and wonders how she never saw it before. “Tired of what?” she finally speaks, her question hanging in the air as Natasha meets her eyes, weariness seeping out from her pores.

“Of this, of running, of...of everything,” she whispers, voice cracking before she turns away.

brave face talk so lightly (hide the truth) (blackhill, 5.7k, T) “I dream of it, of dying” Natasha eventually lets herself admit after some time, into the safety of the early morning.

or, the one where Natasha's alive mixed with a casual discussion of death

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

most of the time yes! i love comments! but if i don’t it’s usually cause i’m not logged in/don’t have the energy to but i love all the people who comment dearly

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

probably don't bring tomorrow (i'll lose you) as a lovers to enemies bingo fill and also for creative experimentation.

7. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

haven’t done one but doesn’t mean i wouldn’t. i think about the few fics of natasha (mcu) and the old guard often and would love to explore that concept

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

nope!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

handful of times but most never published. the regular i guess?

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don’t really think my fics get popular enough for people to want to steal them??

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope! again i’m open to doing it but right now i just don’t have the time to commit

12. What’s your all time favourite ship?

this is pretty obvious it’s blackhill by far. they just haven’t let my muse go and i love both of these characters as individuals and together. i just think there’s so much potential for exploration of their relationship dynamics and i love seeing how other people interpret the meager source text and create something out of it.

13. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

marvel (like i said, blackhill just won’t let me go)

14. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

hmm i can’t really choose so i’ll cheat and give two instead for varying reasons.

brave face talk so lightly (hide the truth) this fic was written in a space in time between so much anger and frustration at the outcome of endgame. it was also a time where i was trying to re-centre myself while struggling with my relationship with dance and when my insomnia decided to never let me live in peace again and i think a lot of that seeped into this piece. this piece just flowed for me and brought me back to this corner of the fandom as well as back to writing itself.

holding patterns which was never meant to be written. for how this fic flipped my expectations, first by existing, second by stealing the ‘aftercare’ prompt from another pwp fic i was trying my hand at, and third for how deliberate i was with this. there were unspoken challenges i set myself for this 1) to write about a relationship without the usual relationship markers (e.g how does one say ‘i love you’ without actually saying it), 2) to not judge my writing as i was writing (or well, not edit it while writing), 3) to find different pathways when i got stuck and 4) not to break 5k (so i could tell nic “i told you so”) and i think i mostly succeeded.

I tag anyone who wants to do this!

[kaaras-adaar]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME:  Owl, K, Kmod.

PRONOUNS: He/Him

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: I don’t mind. If it’s first interactions, I assume IM’s and asks is totally an okay way to communicate with me. If I feel we’re in for the long haul, then I’ll offer my discord (or add you if you offer). I generally only chat on discord with mutuals, tho. I will say, I’m REALLY antisocial. Some days, I’m too tired to reply/talk, even tho I’m online. My work is incredibly taxing when it comes to my people metre, so please never take offence if I’m not responding. Sometimes I’m online but not at my PC as well. I will reply when I can. Just know it’s not you, it’s 100% me! Ask all of my close RP buddies, and I’m sure they’ll all agree :’D 

NAME OF MUSE(s):  Kaaras Taashath Adaar 

RP EXPERIENCE/HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?):  Oof... wow, I think I started Rping back in... maybe 2008? 

PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED:  DevART notes, email, livejournal, MSN, Skype, MERP forum, chat rooms, Tumblr. 

BEST EXPERIENCE:  Probably the people I have met here in the DARP community. Some of you are my closest friends, and I find that even with distance and time between us, we can still pick up like we’ve never stopped, and I really love that. Real life is busy and sometimes you just can’t talk all the time, and you guys understand that. I miss my days in the Transformers fandom, but mostly because I was younger and more carefree (the place was very toxic). Being able to write Kaaras has been such an amazing experience over the years, and I’m a lot wiser for it. 

PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS: Pet peeves, too much ooc content and too many RL (modern) FC posts on my dash. I don’t mind fantasy/medieval ones, but when I see FC’s with mobiles in a world I don’t write in, it feels very out of place for me. I have a really odd thing with FCs. Not a deal breaker, though. Dealbreakers?  Just don’t be a cunt. If you’re policing people how to write and being a cunt on my dash, I’m not interested. Callout posts are childish no matter who you are. I don’t care for your excuses and your white knightery. I’m too old for that shit, and it looks disgusting even if you’re trying to take the moral high ground. Just unfollow and be done with it. You don’t like the way they said or write something, then act like an adult and deal with it maturely. Leave the high school drama at high school. Politics is also a big thing that is starting to piss me off as well. I work hard every day, in healthcare, in the middle of a pandemic, on the front line... the last fucking thing I want to do when I get home is see bullshit politics on my dash when I deal with fuck heads all day at work. I’m here to WRITE and enjoy myself, not deal with the real world and its politics, let alone seeing people ‘splain. If I wanted to deal with that, I’d just stay at work all day. 

FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT:  All. I’m a fan of all of it, so long as there’s chemistry between the characters and we’re going somewhere with it.

PLOTS OR MEMES:  I love both. Admittedly, memes are probably the best ice breakers for me, because I don’t have a lot of time to plot anymore--that and being so tired from work makes my brain frizzle out and I can’t even THINK of plots. Memes spike interest because some of the best PLOTS have come from memes. Both have their place, I’m just a tired old man who can’t think of plots much anymore, which is sad because I used to have so many ideas. Whether it’s because I’ve been writing Kaaras for so long that nothing seems new anymore? Or I’m just very tired and my poor, Aspie brain is too filled for new ideas to come in. IDK. But memes are a good way to start things! Also, they can be really random which makes Kaaras react in ways I’m surprised! But once we write a few times, then plots will be sure to come, and I do love discussing them! When I have the brain capacity :( 

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES:  Unless it’s just short bits of dash commentary or a one-off, I prefer longer threads. It’s difficult for me to delve into anything in a short reply. (Fox pretty much hit the nail on the head, so I’m keeping their response here).

BEST TIME TO WRITE: Whenever I have a day off work. Fridays are generally my best, because I’m home alone and have all the space to myself. Weekends I need to do errands, groceries and like to spend some time with my partner playing games or whatever. Generally speaking, Monday--Thursday I’m pretty dead tired. 

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S):  In some ways, for sure. We both have very high moral compasses, and we both see people as people. Kaaras has a lot more patience than I do, and is certainly kinder and more forgiving. We are both neurodivergent, and we both require our alone time to recharge. Kaaras is far more poetic than I could ever wish to be, and we’re both very blunt (although Kaaras is better at dealing with confrontation than I am). I would say that we can both be very quick to detatch ourselves from anyone/thing that is toxic as well. Both of us are absolutely fuelled with rage when it comes to seeing innocent people being harmed as well--he definitely gets that from me lol. We both love animals and have farm experience. But we are also VERY different in many ways, too. 

Tagged by: @ravusnightblossom​  Tagging:. @many-tales-told​ @sunlilted​ @andrastehope​ @aylenlavellan​ @dragonagedmage​ @wolf-at-worlds-end​ @wclfdreamt​ @nehraa-asaaranda​ and anyone else! Tag me so I can read! <3 

[ahoyfandoms]

The Knee In Your Back

Prompt: First night together @risenfrommyimagination

Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem! Reader

Summary: You've been Robin’s girlfriend for a while now but you’ve yet to spend your first night together.

Word Count: 3782

Warnings: swearing

A/N: Robin has me soft, girlfriend Robin has me even softer. My rl hoe and me exchanged prompts and that is what happenend kids.

Feedback or constructive criticism is very welcomed!

More Robin: Drabbles

It wasn’t the fact, that you hadn’t had a sleepover in your life. You’ve had sleepovers with plenty of people. 

Ok, maybe not plenty, but…

A simple sleepover was not a reason to be this nervous at all.

You had tried to not pay so much attention to what was coming or rather who was coming over tonight. Even with your headphones on and Our House by Madness fueling you on, you could not shake your anxious feeling.

While putting your stuff away you muttered some words along to the song.

 You took a step back, trying to calm down by wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans and looked around for any knick-knacks that still weren’t in their place.

Since you’d spent your free afternoon cleaning your room to make it look presentable there wasn’t much clutter left that needed fixing.

Sure, your laundry basket was still overflowing a little bit, the towers of undone homework and unread books were still silently judging you from your desk but overall it looked clean and cozy.

“Ok, I’ll do some laundry and then I think I can relax.”, you spoke into the silence of your room.

You took off your headphones, slung them around your neck and grabbed a pile of laundry. 

Hearing the music change to ABBA, a smile crept across your face. Robin had mocked you once for being obsessed with them. You knew she secretly loved them, too.

After loading up the washing machine and pausing ABBA, you decided you were done and could begin anxiously waiting for Robin to arrive.

“Just gotta put the Walkman away,”, you instructed yourself while following along, „and now I am free.”.

Just a second later, you heard the telephone ring downstairs.

“Oh, Shit!”

You dashed down the stairs, wanting to spare Robin the experience of having to small talk with your mother when she picked up.

 In your rush, you forgot about how slippery your carpeted stairs could be and slid down the last couple of stairs.

“Oh, Jesus fuck!”, you exclaimed while the edge of the stairs dug into your bum and back. That would give you two nice bruises probably.

“Hello, Sanders household. How may I help you?”, your mother had already answered the phone while you lay defeated on the stairs.

“Excuse me for just one second.”, she said.

“Honey, no need to bring Jesus into this! Are you ok? It’s for you.”, she called into the hallway, having the speaker covered with her body so that the person on the other side wouldn’t hear your misery.

Angry at your own impatience and still hurt you got up and rubbed your now aching back and bottom. 

Goddamnit…

Upon entering the kitchen, your mother shot you a look and held the phone out to you.

“It is for you”, she mouthed at you.

It was her. Please let it be her, you pleaded in your thoughts while taking the speaker and looking at the clock to checking if it could really be Robin.

“This is Y/N.”, you answered.

“So do tell, why did you have to bring Jesus into this?”

The thing was: you could feel her smirk, even though you couldn’t see it.

“Might’ve slipped on the stairs, but also just might be a good catholic girl.”, you almost whispered, not trusting your voice right now.

You anxiously started playing with the telephone cord. Twisting it around your fingers until they were covered.

It was around eight now. Shouldn’t she be off now? Your mother was preparing lunch for your father to take to work tomorrow. She was already in her nightgown and would retire for the night in about half an hour probably.

She worked early shifts at the library on weekends, so she always made sure to get her beauty sleep.

Your father, on the other hand, was working a night shift down at the police station. After the Chief had gone missing, he had to take a lot of his workload.

Robin chuckled.

This made you feel relaxed. It was like she could just wash all the anxiety away with one simple gesture.

“You are a lot of things, but you are not a good catholic girl.”, she said.

You snorted. What was that supposed to mean?

“But anyways. I am calling to tell you to -”, you heard someone complaining in the background, “ – Steve, I am trying to have a conversation here…!”

Then you heard bits and pieces of arguing between Steve and Robin.

“I am sorry, Steve is being his dingus self and wants to close up. Just wanted to let you know I am on my way, babe.”, Robin finished her sentence.

 And with that, all your anxiety came back to you. You couldn’t even calm down by playing with the phone cord anymore.

“Alright.”, you managed to get out.

“Breathe, babe. Bye.”

And with that, the phone was silent.

“Who was that, honey?” Your mother asked as you hung up the speaker.

“Robin, she’ll be here in twenty, I think.”, you shot another glance at the clock.

“Alright, you two have fun. There is still a little leftover dinner in the fridge if she wants some.”

Your parents didn’t know the extent of Robin and your relationship. They knew you had Spanish and chemistry together. They thought you were just two girls, being best friends.

You were way past of being best friends though. That had stopped when she kissed you that one night.

The memory of her soft but chapped lips brushing against yours made your heart flutter and your cheeks heat up.

You decided against waiting for Robin in your room and watched some TV to get your mind off her.

 It was a soft sound, her hands knocking on your front door. She knew your mother was in bed and probably trying to fall asleep right now.

She had been over at your house plenty of times. But you had yet to spend a night together with each other. As a couple. It felt daring to even think of that word.

It was a constant hiding game, your relationship. No kisses and hand holding out in public. Hugs were ok, but they needed to be quick and unsuspicious.

Sometimes it made you furious that other people could just show their affection out in the open and you two could maybe sneak a kiss in the break room when Steve was feeling nice and you two were feeling adventurous.

Trying to compose yourself, not looking too desperate to see her, you opened the door.

As soon as you saw her hair up in that wild ponytail, she put it in when Keith was being a pain in her ass and asking why he gave Steve that job and where all the hot ladies were.

You smiled at the thought. 

One-time poor, shy Keith tried flirting with you. You had politely declined his offer to show you some better movies than what you were planning to rent.

Robin was angry but also so insecure after that.

“Well, what am I going to do? I can’t just kiss you and tell him to back the fuck off.”, she had said almost desperate.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”, you whispered. Robin talking getting you out of your thoughts.

You stood aside, telling her to come in. Robin saved all displays of affection for your bedroom now. You always did that when you visited each other at home.

She quickly got out of her shoes and followed you into your bedroom. It was still weird for you to have a girlfriend. After all that anxiety, you always needed an adjustment period for your body and brain to process that you could share anything with her and just touch her.

Robin didn’t seem to need that adjustment period because as soon as you reached your room upstairs and closed the door, she hugged you from behind. Leaning her head on your shoulder, you could feel her breath against your ear. 

You leaned into her a little bit and put your hands on top of hers, feeling the tension slowly fading away.

Softly she spoke: “You know what? Steve might be earning a ‘You Rule’ tally soon.”.

You turned around in her embrace, now facing her, hands clasped behind her neck. 

Her hands were on your waist gently caressing you with her thumbs.

Your gaze wandered upon her face. You didn’t dare to look her in the eyes just yet.

You could, however, count her freckles, if you wanted to.

“Really? How did he manage that?”, you asked with a smile.

While you were waiting for an answer you threw all your precautions and anxious feelings out of the window and looked up into Robin's eyes.

She was looking at you the whole time like you had laid down the very ground she was standing on.

You noticed her eyes switching from yours to your mouth. A tentative ask if you were ok if she’d kiss you now.

It was weird for you, kissing her at first. It felt good, yes. But the fact that Robin was kissing you and really wanted to do it still had you feel giddy.

“Robin? What did he do?”, you pressed on, being too scared to initiate the kiss yourself.

You somehow wanted this moment to just last a little bit longer.

 Robin’s hands wandered up to cup your face. She was caressing your cheeks.

You felt loved, closing your eyes, exhaling – almost sighing. Robin smelled like fresh linen, citrus and that new shampoo Harrington had recommended her when she complained to you about her hair.

While being in your thoughts you hadn’t really noticed that Robin was about to kiss you.

“Just shut up for a moment.”, she said.

Gently, her lips brushed against your own before she hovered over them again. You could feel her gaze switching between your eyes and lips. She knew you were screaming internally.

She took it slow, for you and your heart's sake.

But you were adjusting pretty well tonight, you were slowly transcending into the stage, where you needed and craved her touch and affection.

Robin had that tell-tale smirk on her face again. It lit up your whole heart.

She closed the distance between you two again, connecting your lips in a now more pressing kiss. Her lips still moved gently against yours, as to not scare you off.

Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, the butterflies in your stomach set free you started to return the kiss.

Your lips moving softly against hers made it worth all the times you were frustrated that you couldn’t do any of this in public.

Robin’s hands were still holding your face close to her when she ended the kiss. You were both catching your breath.

She looked at you with so much adoration, you weren’t sure how your knees were still holding up.

All those feelings always hit you like a hurricane. It was all so new, being in love and being loved back. Sometimes you felt ashamed of how much you really loved her.

You leaned your head on her shoulder, seeing the pulse steadily on her neck, peppering little kisses around that area.

Her skin was incredibly soft, and that welcoming smell hit you again.

“Mhm, babe. Stop, please.”, she murmured.

You looked at her, her face was flushed.

“What’s up? Care to tell me now what Harrington did?”

“Maybe if you’ll kiss me again.”, she suggested while starting to play with the hem of your shirt.

You rolled your eyes at that, giving her a little shove.

“Excuse you, why do you reject me my love?”, she dramatically let herself fall onto your bed.

“Because you’re being a dingus right now.”, you explained holding out your hands to help her up.

She grabbed your hands and pulled so suddenly that you landed with a small yelp on top of her. Robin reacted quickly though and covered your mouth with her hand.

“Shh, you don’t want to wake up your mum.”, she whispered.

You felt your flush creeping up again, trying to roll off Robin but she wrapped her legs around you. Always one step ahead of you.

“Why don’t you tell me again, who the dingus is here?”, she dared.

“Harrington of course.”, you replied.

“Right answer, good girl.”

“Don’t say that Robin.”, rolling your eyes you finally managed to roll off her.

“Why not? You said it yourself, you’re a good Christian girl.”, she was teasing you. She probably wouldn’t let go of that comment for a while.

“But, back to the problem on hand: there is this girl and she was being all cute and shy around Harrington. Luckily, he choked on his spit today while talking to her. So, I don’t think I’ll be making that tally too soon.”, she explained.

“Well, you know.”, you made a gesture with your hands, “I think he definitely has earned a ‘You rule’ tally for all the times he has been so supportive of us.”

“Come on, you’re being no fun.”, she complained,” Steve deserves to be teased. He is a dingus.”, she went on.

“He is, but he is also your friend. And I appreciate him as such.”, you concluded.

“You’re too sweet.”, she yawned. She must be pretty tired.

“Do you mind if we go straight to bed?”, she asked while starting to play with your hair, lightly combing through it and scratching your scalp in the process.

“My mum has leftovers in the fridge for you, if you want to eat first?”

“That’s very sweet of her. I had a packed lunch and now I just want to get to bed.”

She yawned again as if to prove her statement.

“You just want to cuddle with me, be honest.”, you joked around, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“You know me too well.”, she spoke softly, her gaze never leaving you.

She got up from the bed, grabbed her overnight bag and plopped that down on your bed.

And with the thump of her bag, all your anxiety came back to you once again. 

Are you going to get into pajamas in front of each other? Would it be weird? Would it be even weirder if you did this in the bathroom? By yourself?

You stood up, standing awkwardly next to Robin, fumbling with your hands, not sure what to do.

Robin was throwing her pajamas on a side of the bed carelessly; they weren’t even folded neatly. Her overnight bag looked like she just stuffed a bunch of stuff in it this morning.

“I can hear you thinking from over there.”, she called you out, while you chewed on your bottom lip.

 She reached out for your fumbling hands, taking them into hers, her thumb lightly grazing over the back of your hand.

“We’ve never done this.”, you whispered, not looking at her but at a little dust bunny, you found on the floor.

“Hey, it’s not like we are going to fuck the whole night. Relax.”, she tried to ease you up with a joke.

You took your hands out of hers. “Jeez Robin, you’re such a romantic.”.

“I know. Why don’t you go change in the bathroom and I’ll change here and then we brush our teeth and I’ll start snoring the second I hit those sheets?”

“I will kick you if you snore!”, you threatened her, wagging a finger at her and walking into your ensuite.

You slid off your clothes, feeling relieved to finally get into your pajamas. 

You felt more at ease when she had seen you struggling. Robin always seemed to know what you needed, she was always there to get you out of your head and back into reality.

When you got to your shirt you stopped for a moment. Was Robin going to keep her bra on? You’d never seen each other naked yet, not even while making out.

But sleeping with a bra was the most uncomfortable thing ever…

A soft knock on the door interrupted your train of thoughts.

“Are you ready yet? I’ll fall asleep, take over the whole bed and get cavities if you don’t let me in right now.”, she whined dramatically.

You decided to take off your bra, slip on your shirt and just put an arm around your body, supporting your boobs.

While slipping on your shirt, you could see the purple bruise on the lower end of your back. Those stairs really did a number on you. More like my impatience…

Opening the door, Robin slipped in, toothbrush in hand, wearing the shortest shorts in existence. Scratch that, they weren’t even worth it to be called shorts, she could’ve just been wearing her underwear.

“See something you like, pretty girl?”, she whispered as she stepped into your personal space.

You huffed. Shaking your head and wetting your toothbrush with the toothpaste.

She was beginning to brush her teeth now, smirking and looking at you being flustered. She seemed really pleased with herself.

Your grumbled something. 

“What was that?”, she spit out the toothpaste, finishing up. She stepped behind you, embracing you in a hug again.

Her lips trailed soft kisses along where your shirt fell off your shoulder and up your neck.

“Nothin’.”, you lied. You felt yourself getting goosebumps when she kissed the spot behind your ear.

Robin hummed against your skin, your eyes meeting in the mirror when you finished up brushing your teeth too.

Slowly, as if to test the waters, she let go of you. It felt oddly cold not having her wrapped around you.

She walked back into your bedroom, slipping into your bed with such ease as if you did this regularly. Sometimes you asked yourself how she did that: being so careless.

Turning on the lava lamp on your nightstand, you switched the light in your room off. You felt like a stranger in your own bedroom.

It felt good and relaxing to have your girlfriend around, but it also made your anxiety skyrocket into a whole new universe.

“You know, your bed smells really nice.”, Robin hummed as she got comfortable in your bed.

“Hm, that does not sound creepy at all Miss Buckley.”, you said as you slid into your bed, a sigh escaping your mouth.

“Not going to lie, the Harrington’s know their mattresses.”, you told her.

“What? Why do you have to bring the dingus into our pillow talk?”, the soft pink hue of your lava lamp, illuminated her disgusted looking face.

“Ugh, Robin it’s not like that.”

“Enlighten me then, babe.”, her soft voice was barely above a whisper.

“You know I’ve known Steve since I was a baby. Our Parents went to high school together. And when we moved my bedroom, I got a bigger bed and I’ve had a sleepover at Steve’s multiple times you know. So, I just asked him, what kind of mattress he has.”, you explained.

“You had sleepovers with him? In his bed?”, Robin's eyebrows were raised high.

“Yes, our parents always try and make us end up together.”, you shivered at the thought.

Steve wasn’t such a douchebag anymore, that was great, but you’d never thought about him in that way…

Robin swallowed, looking worried. She always licked her lips when she was nervous.

“Guess, I’ll have to disappoint my parents right there…”, you whispered.

This didn’t seem to make her worries go away. She knew you had a relatively good relationship with your parents, yet they didn’t know you preferred women over men.

Robin wasn’t one to talk though, you knew she only ever told Steve and one of her high school friends.

It was one of the rare times where Robin was caught up in her thoughts, spiraling down the route of self-doubt.

She had this worrying wrinkle in between her eyebrows, eyes fixating on a point behind you as if she was able to look right through you.

“Robin?”, you touched her cheek, feeling her eyes now really focusing on you.

“You know, that I’m not going to abandon you? I’ve waited too long to finally call you my girlfriend to let you go…”.

Robin huffed, slightly shaking her head.

“The only thing is,”, she trailed her fingers over your arm now, “you can’t even call me your girlfriend.”

She sounded so defeated; you could feel your chest tightening. It hurt, to see her like that.

“The only thing important to me is, that we know it, you know. And maybe Keith, he is still trying to hit on me.”, you made a disgusted face.

Robin chuckled at that.

“He is relentless. Asking me about you. At one point I will strangle him with some tape.”, she joked.

Robin seemed pleased with her idea, smiling at you and looking so very beautiful.

Shyly you leaned in for another soft kiss. Longing for the touch now, needing reassurance, that this was, in fact, your girlfriend ready to kill a poor clueless man.

Robin broke off the kiss to yawn again.

“Wow, what did Keith do to you?”, you wondered.

“Had me stacking boxes and doing some inventory stuff. It was really boring.”, Robin explained.

“Come here.”, she held her arms out, so that you could cuddle in even closer with her.

Her body felt warm and soft against yours. She still smelled intoxicating, when you nuzzled your head into the crook of her neck.

Robin had slung a leg around your hip, and you thought you could never feel more at ease than this.

The only sounds were some cars passing by, the wind howling softly.

Your lava lamp still illuminated you in the soft pink light. You always left it on, after all, that had happened.

“Goodnight, babe.”, Robin pressed a kiss on top of your hair.

“Mhm, G’night Robin.”, you answered pressing your lips lazily against her pulse point.

She pulled you in closer.

After a while, you could hear her soft, steady breath. Robin always fell asleep like it was nothing. One time she even fell asleep standing up.

You’d never been able to do that. Always struggling to shut up your head and find peace and quiet.

 A knee in your back let you wake up rather harshly, groaning you turned around to see who was so rudely waking you up this Saturday.

Robin lay there, her mouth softly opened, a little wet spot of drool on her pillowcase, her right leg pulled up high (the one that just woke you up) and hands tucked under her pillow. She looked so relaxed.

And at this moment, you decided you never wanted to wake up without her anymore.

I am tagging you because you’re either one of my hoes or I thought you’d like this. Please tell me if it wasn’t ok to tag you!

tags: @marvelscoops @badass-robin @sinfulsweetpea @silver-winter-wolf @losermultifandomidiot @robinbuckleyfanfics @robinlikeswomen @bitchinrobin @bullymehargrove @minigranger @upsidedownfics @harringtown @parker-potter

[ask-de-writer]

I promised to tell you about yesterday’s RL bites.  Tale grew.  Includes this morning, too.

Yesterday, I still had a load of water to deliver from the previous day’s order.  No problem.  Got up and had a light breakfast.  Leaped into truck and headed for town with the water trailer. Fueled up the truck.  

Small disaster.  The whole big 69 cent soft drink, ice and slushie center was dead!  Problems with leaks and refrigeration.  My 40 oz. cold drink to sip while delivering water was doomed!  

Filled the trailer up with water and headed out, all well ahead of schedule.  Got  a nut that keeps working loose on the trailer.  Had to stop part way out and tighten it.  Got to the delivery tank and saw that the cattle drinking tank was empty!  Main tank was down too!  

The thirsty cattle had done away with the whole thousand gallons that I delivered yesterday!  I texted the ranch about the situation and they ordered another trailer load to fill that big tank. 

I went and got it and pumped it in too.  NOT ahead of schedule now for sure!  Oh, yes, that nut.  Needed to stop and re tighten it about seven times.

Finally got home about 2:30.  Snacked and sat to my computer.  The phone went off before it finished booting!

Friend about a 1/2 hour travel from here (I have mentioned that the roads out this way are not good, I think) needed me to transport him to town for truck parts.  Both of Doug’s were down!  The small one has been overheating due to a fan problem.  The big one he started to replace the front shocks on and found out that the ones he had were the wrong size.  Could not replace the old ones because he had to murder some bolts to get them out.

We got into town and he ordered the proper shocks.  A simple exchange with a complication.  The proper shocks can’t get here until Wednesday.  Fortunately, the fan was in stock.  

Got that and snagged a burger and shake at POPS Better Burgers.   They are, too.  Super good.  Real Ice Cream milkshakes that they make to order.  Very nice.

Got Doug home and headed home myself.   Arrived about 8:30 PM.  Had to wait on my front porch for my water hauling pay.  It arrived about 9 or so.  I put the $120 just folded into my wallet.  Sat out because the weather was so nice.

Fell asleep.

Woke about midnight and staggered to bed.  It had been a LONG day.

Got up and started to dress.  MY WALLET!  Found it out on the front porch.  It was sort of tented open.  My $120 was not to be found!

Drat you, Merry Little Breezes!

Found the $100 bill just off the end of the porch, fortunately.  Unfortunately, I still have not found the $20.  Been looking but no luck yet.

Oh yes, I retightened that pesky nut on the water trailer.  AGAIN. 

[faegoddessog]

 Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch.27/41

Chapter  27: "Don't say I didn't warn you"

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, Unprotected PiV, hand job,

Series Masterlist 

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes  involved here. 

Chapter  27: "Don't say I didn't warn you"

It takes about 10 minutes to recover.  Him from cumming and  you from…well… not cumming. He doesn’t talk, just holds you as he leans on the counter, legs crossed at the ankle. You are snuggled under his chin, ear against his chest, listening to his heart beat and unconsciously matching your breathing to his. 

A timer goes off, and Austin checks the film, the dryer has done its job well. He asks you to turn on the regular light, you both blink in the brightness. He tucks his shirt back in, you smooth your hair and wipe your face again. You both check one another over for tell tale signs of what you have been up to. Satisfied, well he is anyway, you retrieve all your things and open the door. 

“Wow, that was fast, that dryer is a game charger, huh,” says the young attendant,  “let me show you our new scanner?”  He was excited to tell you all about their new very fancy digital scanner when you arrived.  Austin decides to try it. And after being shown the basics, Austin sets to it.

You go in search of snacks, knowing it’ll take a bit. You end up walking around the block down to Austin Street, of all the fucking names in the world,  and getting some pork and chicken skewers with some rice for each of you at a place called Banh Mi Factory.  The walk does you some good, calms you down as you take in people going about their everyday business. 

When you get back about 45 minutes later, Austin is almost done.  He motions you over to see.

You look over his shoulder at the screen as each image comes up. There are several good ones at Natural Bridge; in front of the waterfall, against the tropical trees and rocks. The are like artsy vacation photos. 

Then there are the ones of Goddess You naked in the forest.  In one,  You are laying naked in the water, Your hair is streaming around Your head and Your hands carelessly half covering Your tits. Staring into the camera like You were about to hand out a fucking sword.  It’s amazing. 

“I’m gonna print that one, and a few others here in a minute.” he says, munching a chicken satay skewer.

There are a few of him that you took. One really strikes you. It is of him looking directly at the camera with a shy smile that curls his lip up. So simple, but you need it. 

“Can I have that one?”  he nods and writes it down. 

There are a couple of you in your sexy dress from behind with your arms up. The one with you looking to the side is amazing. The muscles of your back are gorgeously highlighted by the light from the sliding door. You look like an actual model, damn.  

You start giggling at the Charlie’s Angel one, providing the soundtrack for the next one of you laughing. 

“I absolutely love this one, it’s my favorite, ” says Austin, looking up at you, “it’s so very you.” 

You respond with a kiss, then wrap yourself around him from behind. 

The one with you looking down at him, your dress bunched in your hands almost exposing yourself is sexy as fuck. The closeups of your dripping pussy with your own finger inside you, a drop running down your inner thigh look intimately artistic. Then he starts in on the ones of you tied up: you gagged with the rope and your arms tied up above you, one with your ass in the air tied to the ottoman. 

“Wow,” you growl in his ear, “I didn't know looking at myself would be so hot.”

“Um yeah, you are fucking hot Kitten,” he kisses your cheek. 

Once he has them all digitally on a USB stick. He decides to print a handful of these from the negatives, old school. So back into the darkroom he goes. 

You decide to wander the gallery. The exhibit is by a photographer named Alex Buckingham. There is one that just strikes your fancy called “The Dive”. You buy a print, deciding to use it in your Uncle’s remodel.  

The attendant tells you about the tucked away coffee shop across the street. You go sit for a few minutes sipping coffee. You snag one to go for Austin.

When he emerges he looks quite pleased with himself. You hand him his drink. 

“How do you know just what I need, Kitten,” he kisses your cheek. You walk out of there with several 8X10’s in an envelope and a very happy man. 

The uber ride back to the hotel is quiet. Austin looks glued to his phone while you seem to stare out the window shifting uncomfortably in your seat and randomly tapping your hand. To outside eyes it would look like he is inattentive and you are pissed about it. In actuality, Austin is playing with all the settings on the vibe and you are trying viciously not to cum in your already soaked panties. 

Once at the Emporium, Austin stops by the concierge to chat about dinner reservations. You wait a few steps behind, arms crossed and antsy. 

“Good,” he says, placing his hand on your waist and guiding you to the elevators, “we have reservations for 5:45 at a place called Bacchus. So we have about an hour and ½ to get ready.” 

“Good, that should be enough time,” you shoot him a sexy glance. 

As you step onto the elevator, your pussy starts vibrating, hard. You walk to the back corner and turn around. You are antsy; crossing your arms, shaking your leg,  rubbing your  thumb along your lip. You must look like some kind of drug addict. Well, Austin is a fucking stimulant, as hot as he is leaning up against the opposite back corner, just watching you with those sexy blue eyes, a tiny, amused smile on his mouth. 

Fuck. As soon as the door closes, you are going to pounce on him. You may not make it all the way to the suite before your clothes are off.

Unfortunately, a person steps into the elevator with you at the last second. They smile at you and turn around pushing their floor. Austin looks at his phone. Changing the pattern of the vibe and watching you out of the corner of his eye. 

The buzzing is starting to make you feel a little numb, which is honestly a good thing since you are so turned on. What might that 3rd person do if you just started humping Austin in the elevator? You are seriously considering it when you hear a ding and they get off  a couple floors below yours.  

The second the elevator doors close you rush, crashing  together in the middle of the elevator, lips, chests, hands. 

“Fuck, turn it off,” you beg. He quickly does. His mouth is on your neck, sinking his top teeth into the meaty part. It makes your knees buckle under you. 

“I want you to know,” he whispers in your ear, holding you up, “that before this day is over,  I am going to have filled all three of your holes with my cum before I let you have your orgasm.” He shows you his phone, he has set a 45 minute timer, “but that’s all the time we have right now.” 

DING! Challenge accepted. 

The doors open and there is a handsome man in a well cut business suit waiting for the elevator. He takes in the disheveled sight of you both and flashes Austin a knowing smile before stepping aside to let you out. 

“Hello,” you say and wink at him as you walk by, leading Austin by the hand to your door.

He nods his head. Just before the doors close you hear, “Have fun.”  

“Oh we will’ says your demon, loud. You hear a laugh behind the elevator door. 

Once you are inside the suite, you turn around to Austin, he pulls you in for a deep kiss. 

You are so horny, you can control neither the shaking of your hips, nor the moans that his kiss swallows. 

Then his hands are unzipping your dress, stopping to unhook your bra half way and pulling both off your shoulders to fall to the ground around your now bare feet. His clothes soon follow. 

“Spread your legs,” he says, one finger gliding along the inside of your waistband, his other hand  pressing your back to the wall. Slowly, he pulls your sodden panties gently away from your vulva, “Good lord Kitten, I’ve never seen you this sopping wet before you’ve cum.”

He undoes the magnet and fishes the vibe out from between your lips. His fingers brushing against your inner lips and your clit make you whimper and scoop your pelvis towards him in a silent appeal for more. He brings the wet toy up to his mouth trailing a long line of juices from its tip,  and licks it off. Wrapping his tongue around it and teasing you, he knows you would rather he drink straight from the source. 

He places the vibe on the entry table, then strips off your panties, leaving the drenched unicorns on the pile of clothes. 

You can’t stand being this close, naked, and not have him buried inside you. You pull his head down to kiss him while pushing him backwards across the room. His hands are on your backside, kneading your ass. 

He sits down when he hits the bed. You don’t stop pushing him, crawling on top of him as he scoots to the middle and lays down. 

“Turn around, I want you to watch,” he indicates the wall across from the bed that is all mirrors. You turn around, straddling his hips as he holds his hard cock upright.  

“Oh yes, this, this is what I fucking need!” you moan as you slide down on him. After so much buzzing all day, the sensation of being filled feels incredible. 

You rock back and forth on him, grinding him deep into you, moaning. You lift up as far as your bent legs will let you, watching him slide out of you. He grabs your arms, pulling them to your low back. He holds them there, pushing to support your back. 

“Watch as I fuck you,” he commands. 

In the mirror, you see yourself arched back, your tits  pressed forward. He starts with slow strokes, flexing his glutes.  It is blissfully agonizing to watch him slide in and out of you as he thrusts his hips up, knowing you won’t have release from it. 

It is erotic to watch.  You see now why people video themselves fucking. You wish there was a camera set up now. 

 He speeds up. Your breath comes faster. Your head falls back. It feels so good. 

“No, watch,” he tilts your head forward. 

He starts pounding you hard, knees bent, using his feet for leverage. You start to squeal as you feel an orgasm building, building. Your demon considers not telling him and just cumming. But no, that’s not the fun of this game,  you tell her.  

“Oh fuck Austin, I’m gonna cum,” you declare as your demon rattles her chain.

He pulls out as you rise up and pitch forward between his legs, ass in the air.  Breathing to try to regain some control. You really want to play this game, but you are not sure how much more you can take. 

“Oh Kitten, that’s gorgeous,”  he says after a minute or two. You feel fingers petting you from behind, running on either side of your labia, then applying pressure so your lips swell outwards. Then another finger is stroking those puffed lips. You moan and squirm into his touch. You can feel his other hand moving on his cock, rubbing the tip in your wet folds.

 Reaching through your legs, you grasp him, still wet with your juices. You slide your hand up and down. 

He pushes that finger inside your exposed slit, pressing down.

“Oh god yes,” you moan as he slides across your g-spot. Your hand grips his dick tighter. 

“Let’s see how much you can take before you make me stop,” he says, slipping another finger in and starting to move across that toe curling site. As he speeds up, making sloppy, squashy sounds. You feel flecks of moisture spattering his cock. Jesus, it's amazing. 

“Careful,” he taps your hand on his cock. Realizing you were gripping rather tight, you let go of his dick.

You start rocking back and forth on his fingers, moaning into the covers. “Oh, Oh, OH!” each time you impale yourself. 

He rubs his thumb  side to side on your clit, you squeal “FUCK!” and pull away from him shaking. 

“That was fucking close,” you blow out, trying not to clench your pussy. 

“Come up here baby and turn around,” he says, hands coaxing your hips back towards him. You turn around, straddling him, his cock jutting out between your legs. 

“Austin, if you fuck me right now, I am going to cum,” you say seriously. 

“Alright,” he reaches for the lube on the bedside table, “then stroke me.”

 He drizzles a little lube on his tip. With him in your hand, it looks like it’s your own cock you are  about to jerk off. It’s fucking hot. 

“When I’m close, I am going to fuck that pussy, I want it full before we leave again,” he puts his hands behind his head so he can watch you. God you love when he talks dirty like that. 

“Tell me how you like it,” you say, starting with simple up and down caresses in a light fist. Maybe focusing on him for a while will help you calm down.  

‘Unlikely,’ whispers your demon, ‘ just look at him.’ SHHHH!

“A little tighter,” he says. You comply.  “Uh huh, like that.”

After a dozen or so strokes, you slide your hand up and over his tip and down between your first and middle finger. His stomach contracts a little, his abs popping out then relaxing back. 

“Oh lord, that, do that,” he moans. You sprinkle ‘that’  in between the long strokes on his shaft.

“Faster now,” he instructs, licking his lips and curling back up to watch you jerk him off. 

Your pace increases.  You steady him with your other hand at the base and add in a little twist toward the tip. His front teeth are savage against his full bottom lip. Holy fuck he looks hot, your juices threaten to drip onto his balls. 

“I need a little more lube,” he says.

 You stop and let a long drip of saliva fall into your hand. 

“Oh fuck, that was hot, babe,” his voice is a whispered staccato.

The level of his arousal and your current control of it, is intoxicating. 

‘You are on top here,’ your succubus tells you, ‘ you are in control of his orgasm, he is your quarry.’ Your eyes narrow and the corner of your mouth curls up in a demonic smile.

After a couple minutes you can feel him getting close. To the delight of your succubus, you stop. Taking your hands off him, his cock bounces, red and swollen, against his stomach.  

 His face is a mix of confusion, concern, and betrayal. 

Your demon suddenly wishes he was tied up so you could really fuck with him. Visions of  bringing him to the edge over and over again while he is bound and helpless flash in your mind’s eye.  Then watching as the slightest touch spurts his cum onto… 

He reaches for himself, you lean forward and clamp down on his wrists. Hovering over him on all fours, you tease him with your pussy, rolling your hips back and forth, spreading his cock with your juices. Damn it feels good to be on top.

“Beg me,” you say with your wicked grin, “beg me to make you cum.”  You see him weighing his options. He pushes against your grip a little, you are stronger than he realized. Yeah, he can overpower you if he wants, especially with lube on your hands. But what fun is that? 

“Please,” his voice is strained, “please make me cum inside you.” 

You lean down to his ear and whisper, “that’s a good boy,” and lightly lick his earlobe. 

You let go of his wrists and sit back, pulling his throbbing dick up between your legs. Licking between your thumb and forefinger then wrapping them in a ring around his head you slip up and down rubbing his sensitive ridge and frenulum.  The first three fingers  and thumb on your other hand are below, gliding on either side of his shaft, hands working in concert.

His eyes go huge, pupils dark with desire. His mouth hangs open in an exhale.

You speed up as his breath huffs from him and his abs flex tight. His hands are gripping your knees, ready in case you let him go again. His eyelids flicker  over his rolled back eyes, his head droops back. 

You slow down.

His head snaps up.

“I’m so close, please,” he says through gritted teeth, “please don’t stop.”  You rise up and sink him into your pussy.

“Omigod you are so hot inside,” his body shakes under you.

His hands grip your hips like steel, pulling you down onto him as he furiously plunges in and out of you. You want to clamp down on him, but it feels too good and you know it’ll make you cum. You are miraculously still willing to play the game now that you got a little control back. 

“That’s it, cum for me baby, fill me with it,” you urge him on, your voice pitching higher as pleasure winds tight inside you.

He thrusts half a dozen more times into you. Each thrust  pushes you farther to the edge, making you bite your lip and moan. Each thrust punctuated by a syllable “So. Fu-cking. Good. Kit-ten.”  The last is followed by a deep thrust hard into you. Growling out a prolonged ‘nnnnn uggghhh’ as his abs pull him up towards you. He is shaking  and gritting his teeth as he shoots his load into you.

He collapses back on the bed, sweat popping up on his brow, chest heaving. 

“Well, that was fun,” you say after he gets a few big breaths in. You feel him clench and his cock bounces against your g-spot, making you  shiver on top of him.  His lip curls into a smile. 

You pull off of him, cum still inside you and lay down next to him, head on his sweaty chest. Your demon settles down now that she got a little authority back. 

He puts his arms around you, holding you tight against him and sighs. “Thanks babe, I’ve hit the jackpot of girlfrien…zzz.” Then he is snoring.  Boys. 

Wait, did he just call you his girlfriend? I mean… fuck what does that mean? Was it a post-coitus  Freudian Slip? Is that a thing?  Did he mean it?

‘ Okay, well, you kind of are, in like everything but title,’ your demon chimes in. 

Huh? 

‘ Well duh, you feed him, you fuck him, you put him to bed…. You fuck him more, he fucks you more… over and over…. Mmmm, yummy. He takes you on a romantic weekend getaway. He buys you expensive dresses ."

 She is making too much sense, despite the lecherous interludes. 

Ok just ONE dress! And he actually says ‘I love you’… and you love him. His favorite picture of you is of you laughing like a loon.  You start to smile. 

 ‘Yup,’ your demon says, ’ See, girlfriend.’

 Shit. 

But is it though? Is it shit? Are you not the happiest you’ve ever been in your whole life? Does he not make you giddy when he walks into the room? 

‘Does he not check all your sex boxes and then some?’ you can almost see the light glint off her horns. Randy little imp. 

You have to admit that listening to his heart beat in this moment, curled up against his chest feels like the very thing you have been steering blindly towards your whole life. Maybe it’s time to take off the fucking blinders. Scary. 

‘What are you so afraid of?’

The future

‘There is only one way to get out of the future, and we already faced that shit. Next!’

 Of being hurt. Of hurting him. 

‘Ppffft, you know that’s just a risk of love and part of being human. You are stronger than that.’

I’m afraid of being too tied down to accomplish all I want to do.

‘Fear is the mind killer.’ Dammit, no fair bringing DUNE into this! 

‘Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration’ .  

You take a big breath in and blow it out.  FUCK. She is right, little bitch. 

“I will face my fear,” you whisper into his pectoral muscles. He stirs and holds you closer. 

Wow, that is the most help your inner demon has ever been. Who knew she was more than just a sex fiend. 

‘Layers baby, I got layers’

You fucking love her. 

Your mini anxiety attack abated, you decide to jump in the shower and use the enema bottle you brought to get good and clean. After all, you know what’s coming. 

When you get out, you hear his alarm going off in his pants in the pile of clothes. 

“Hey hunny, it’s time to get ready to go,” you pat his chest on your way to turn off the alarm. 

“Hey baby,” he stretches, ”you back?” 

“Huh?” you say, confused.

“Well that demon was here fucking me and she is something to contend with,” he smiles at you.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. She likes to play, especially with you.” 

[calliecat93]

Top 10 Disney Couples

Last year for Valentines, I did a post on some of my favorite all-time ships. I wanted to do something like that again this year, so I decided to do Disney specifically. I’m only gonna count the main animated features (with one exception), so no Pixar but maybe I’ll give that its own list next year. Also, because I put this ship on my list last year, I’m going to exclude Rapunzel/Eugene (they’d be Number 2 otherwise) so that I can talk about some other pairings that I love. And trust me, when it comes to Disney, I got plenty.

Okay, here we go~

#10. Milo Thatch/Kida (Atlantis the Lost Empire)

Atlantis is one of the most underrated Disney films ever, and same with this pair. Okay so I guess technically they didn’t get together since there wasn’t a kiss or anything... but come on! While their intentions were all in the second half of the movie, it was just so... sweet to me. Milo had it rough through the whole movie with so many people belittling him. Even though he made friends with the crew and doing so got them to do the right thing, they were still pretty harsh on the poor guy in the start. He had been mocked due to his dreams, but never gave up even when his inexperience and dorkiness got in the way.

Kida though? She seemed endeared by him. Just like Milo had a curiosity in finding Atlantis and learning of their culture, Kida was interested in Milo and the world he came from. She might be the very first person aside form Mr. Whitmore who acted kindly to Milo right off the bat and asked him to help her save her people and culture. Milo didn’t go for the money, he went because it was his grandfather’s dream, and in turn his dream. They were so cute and fun together as they learned about each other's worlds, and of course, Milo did everything he possibly could to save Kida after she and the crystal bonded, as well as the entire city. Even at the risk of his own life. And just that hug between them at the end and Milo choosing to stay in Atlantis. Just... beautiful. This pair might be subtle, but it's just so sweet and respectful to each other and I just love them.

#9. Duchess and Thomas O’Malley (The Aristocats)

I think this was one of the first movies I ever saw in my life. My mom said I used to watch it all the time as a kid anyways. Heck, pretty sure this movie is why I love cats so much.

Anyways, this pair is cute. Duchess is a classy lady, while Thomas is a swinger. But they just have this natural chemistry the minute that they met. They don’t judge each other from their different walks of life or anything. You can tell that Duchess was charmed the second Thomas first came on. But what sells is, while thrown off for a moment, when Thomas realizes Duchess has kittens? He pretty much goes into dad mode instantly and tries to keep them happy/protect them. I mean he didn't have to help Marie when she fell out of the milk truck at that point, but he did it because it was the right thing to do. He wasn't one of those assholes who got thrown off cause the girl had kids. Heck, that seemed to bring them closer together.

But yeah, it’s just nice and charming to me. There’s nothing real deep about it, but IDK. There’s just something endearing about it to me. Maybe t’s due to Eva Gabor’s performance as Duchess, which also kinda helps with a pairing later on. But I just find them charming and Thomas showed to be a good guy and a good father figure. Sometimes you don’t need a lot of depth for a pair, you just gotta make the sense of romance come off. Disney has always been good at that, and this pair demonstrates that.

#8. Cinderella/Prince Charming (Cinderella)

So to be fair this one has little to no development. Which is kind fo a thing with some of the early Disney films n it’s things like this that Frozen pointed out... even though it kinda fell into the same cliche, but ah well. But you know what? As I said, Disney is usually pretty damn good at making you like a pair, even if it’s out of focus. This one is a prime example. We don’t see much of the Prince, but at the same time there is so much there.

Throughout the movie, we saw Cinderella belittled and abused by her stepfamily. She’s treated like a slave and gets her dreams literally torn apart right in front of her eyes. But she tries to remain kind and hopeful, and the Fairy Godmother rewards her for it. She gets the one night at the Bal. She didn’t go intending to find love, he went because for one time in her life since her parents died, she could have one night of happiness. That was all she wanted. Then Charming saw her. It was him who got struck with love at first sight It was him who walked out on th other girls and approached her. A prince noticed this girl who felt that she was a lowly servant, and danced with her. FOr Cinderella, that had to be so touching and amazing that can we blame her for being so in love after? After someone finally, finally gave her some long overdue affection.

Yeah in RL this can be dangerous. But it isn’t RL. It’s a fairy tale. Cindy earned her happy ending. And if we needed genuine proof about the Prince, A Twist in Time showed that he was indeed a good, heroic person. He didn’t judge Anastasia off her looks. When he found out the truth, he went to find Cinderella and remembered his love for her. He never cared that Cindy was a servant or anything. He loved her when he saw her, and clearly loved her for who she was. Cindy found someone who would give her the love that was so cruelly denied form her and she got out of her abusive family through it. Is it perfect? No, and I can give the remake points for doing a better job at developing the romance. But even so, it’s just s beautiful pair I loved since like... three years old. As such IDC what anyone says, I will always love them. 

#7. Belle/Beast aka Adam (Beauty and the Beast)

It might be a surprise to some, but... I’m not a huge fan of Beauty and the Beast. Don’t get me wrong, I like it. I just feel like Belle, compared to Ariel and some of the later princesses is a little too boring. I still love her though. She’s bookish and kind and is seen as weird by her town, but she pursues what she enjoys anyways. She refuses Gaston’s advances as, while she had expressed wanting love, she didn’t want it with a brute like him. She wanted to choose herself. Then The Beast happens.

People tot his day still like to throw the Stockholm Syndrome card around, but it is idiotic. Belle never caved to Beast when he acted like a brute. But he did see that he wasn't a bad person when he saved her from the wolves, ad she chose to tend to him because she’s a good person. Yes, Beast needs her to break the curse, but Belle doesn’t just cave in either. Beast has to change himself to earn Belles's affection, and over time he does. He learns to be kinder and sure it’s a work in progress, but he does try and he does become better. It goes form needing Belle out of necessity, to genuinely falling in love with her because of her kindness towards him. Belle made Beast a better person, and once she saw the person he truly was, she fell in love with him.

But even then, despite those feelings, Belle decides to leave because her father needed her. Beast, instead of trying to force her to stay, allows her to go. That’s how much he loved her at that point. He loved her enough to let her go, even though that meant he’d be doomed. But it’s through that act, that selflessness, that allows the curse to eventually break. Because of Belle, Beast broke away form being a monster and spared Gaston. Because Belle saw the good in Beast, she stood up to Gaston and went back to save the man she loved. Because of that love, the curse was broken, and Beast became Adam once more. Belle saved Adam. Even if I’m not a huge fan of that film, it’s such a beautiful demonstration of the power of love and they truly deserved each other. A tale as old as time, indeed.

#6. Miss Bianca/Bernard (The Rescuers)

THIS IS THE MOST UNDERRATED DISNEY SHIP EVER.

I love these two so much. Again, its a rather understated pair, but it just works. Bernard is the nervous janitor of the Rescue Aid Society, but he clearly believes int heir cause as shown when he sings the anthem outside. Bianca is the Sweedish representative who has many admirers, but her heart is set on her job. She takes a liking to Bernard because she sees that compared to pretty much everyone else, he believes in rescuing those in trouble with the same passion as she does. He also shows how much he cares for her by being worried about her going to save Penny. Not because she’s a girl, but because he wants her to be safe. That clearly touched her and is why she picked him to be her co-agent.

They both work well together, Binca encouraging Bernard and being the charmer, more relaxed one. Bernard is frequently nervous, but he has a clear knack for the job and does it well. By the time they are on the way to Devil’s Bayou, it’s clear that they’ve acknowledged their feelings for one another. Ther’s no major arc or anything, it’s just two individuals feeling mutually attracted and feeling comfortable with their feelings. They work very well together and manage to rescue Penny, and later Doby in the sequel. The sequel retains the same charm, and the end where Bernard finally proposes makes me smile big every single time.

It’s just a lovely pairing that works so well and it is soooo underrated. It needs more love.

#5. Tiana/Prince Naveen (The Princess and the Frog)

I love this pair so much. It’s a classic ‘came from two different worlds’ story. You have the hard-working and ambitious Tiana and the lazy, spoiled Prince Naveen. Tiana is a good person, but she tends to put work over everything else and never lets herself relax. Naveen is a fun and intelligent man, but he’s spoiled and doesn’t know how to do anything, which caused his parents to cut him off. Due to this, Naveen got himself cured and he ended up passing it onto Tiana.

It is through each other that they find what is missing. Naveen has someone who actually pushes him to work and to realize his own flaws. How he doesn’t know how to act in the real world, even though he shows that he has plenty of skills if he tried. Having someone like Tiana who didn’t fall for his charm and pushed him to actually do things got him to better himself, and it clearly drew him to her. With Tiana, Naveen helped her see that there is more to life than working hard. It’s okay to take a step back and to find things like love. Her dream will always be there, but love will only come around every so often. It helps Tiana ease up and believe in things like wishing stars again, and it paid off for her.

Even at the end, when it looks like they’ll never become human, they accept it. Naveen almost gives up his freedom to marry Charlotte not to turn human again but to let Tiana fulfill her dream. Tiana realizes that she loves Naveen and even if it means losing what she wanted, she’ll still have what she needs, just like her father did. But it works out as once they get married, Tiana is now a princess and their kiss breaks the spell. Tiana got her dream. Naveen did everything he could to make that dream happen, including work with his own bare hands. They got the thing they both wanted and needed, and it’s just beautiful. Neither one are perfect, but their love is genuine, and I adore them and their journey,

#4. Hercules/Meg (Hercules)

I just realises that 5-2 are all from Musher and Clements directed films. Huh. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised though. Those two are so good at making likable couples. Even if they only have to much time to develop them, they make them good and their live believable and I love them. Hercules and Meg are no exception.

Unlike other heroines, Meg is a little older and less innocent. Herc is the more innocent one this time around. Herc is a good-hearted guy trying to figure out who he is and wants to be a hero to reunite with his God family. He saves Meg where despite some clumsiness, he pulls it off. Meg is clearly amused and Herc is lovestruck by her beaut. But of course, Meg is with Hades due to selling her soul to save her lover... who left her for another woman. Meg is cynical and hurt, and considering she pretty much gave up her soul for a man who left her without so much as a thank you, it’s hard to blame her.

Even though Hades makes her get close to Herc to find his weakness, Meg ends up falling for him due to his kindness and genuine heroic heart. She’s in denial of it because of what she experienced, but he wins her over. So much so that even if it means eternal servitude, she refuses to help Hades anymore. Unfortunately, it only gives Hades what he needs to break Herc, and it hurts them both. But despite clearly being heartbroken by the deception and being powerless, Herc trie to save everyone anyways. THen Meg sacrifices herself to save him and restore his power, making Herc realize she did really love him. Herc grew to love Meg because she was smart, funny, and she made him feel less alone. Seeing that she was willing to die for him, despite all that happened, really showed how strong that love truly was. Meg again sacrificed herself to save who she loved, and Hercules proved he was a hero by going to the Underworld himself to save Meg. He was willing to sell his own soul to let Meg leave, and this act got him his full Godhood restored.

But the best part? At the end despite finally being deemed a True Hero and being back at Mount Olympus, what does Hercules do? He gives it up. For Meg. He finally found the place he came form... but it wasn’t where he belonged. He belonged on Earth. The place that raised him. The place he found Meg. His parents are stunned, but clearly happy for him and grant his wish. They finally get to kiss, and it feels so earned. Hercules found someone who loves him for him and can fill the void. Meg found some genuinely kind who would never leave or hurt her. That's the best way to describe this pair, genuine.

#3. Ariel/Eric (The Little Mermaid)

In many ways, this pairing set up the basis for many pairings to come.

Ariel is a mermaid who wants to be human. Eric is an adventurous prince wanting to enjoy life. One fateful night, Ariel stumbled upon his ship and it was love at first sight. Not just on her end either. When she saved him, Eric got one glimpse at her, but could only remember her voice. He wanted to find this mysterious girl again (a fact many critics seem to ignore) and thus the stage is set. After Triton destroys her grotto, Ariel takes Ursula’s deal and becomes human, and gets her chance to woo Eric.

These two are just adorable. People still get on Ariel for her choice here, and yeah she fell in love super fast. But she already wanted to be human, and I think some of her feelings were more infatuation than real love at first. But once humans, we see that Eric is a genuinely nice guy. Even though he thinks Ariel isn’t the girl since she can’t talk, what doe she do? He takes her to the palace anyways because clearly, she needs help and shelter, and he’s willing to give her that. I think that’s what gets Ariel to truly love him, seeing that he’s a good person and kind of her ideal vision of what humans are like. Then Ariel, despite being mute, is just so charming and weet that Eric ends up feeling attracted to her. So much sot hat once Grimm points it out to him, he gives up on his curiosity over the girl who saved him and is about to turn his affections towards Ariel. Sure Ursula messed that up, but it showed that no, he didn’t fall for Ariel because it turned out she was that girl. He fell in love with Ariel because of who Ariel was. Just as she fell for him because of who he was.

I truly did not care that their romance was rushed. It was genuinely charming and sweet. They were both good people, and seeing two good people happy is perfectly fine. Especially at the end where once she found out what Ursula was doing, Ariel went after them even though she couldn’t swim in her human form. Eric, despite being human, went to save Ariel from Ursula, and she, in turn, saved him from getting blasted. Then Eric finished Ursula once and for all, nearly getting killed int he process but this proves himself worthy to Triton. He grants Ariel legs, and the two can finally be together. The critics and ‘feminists’ can say what they want, they are adorable and just good for each other and as I said, are the template for so many couples afterwards. I love them, dang it!

#2. Aladdin/Princess Jasmine (Aladdin)

IDK what it is about these two! They’re just so... perfect! IDK how to explain why, but I’m gonna try.

Like I said, Musker and Clements are just really good at making likable pairs. Aladdin is a street rat striving for more. Jasmine is a princess who wants freedom. When they meet, its true love. It doesn't even feel like Aladdin fell for her cause she was pretty, it truly feels like he saw his soulmate for the first time. Then the two find a common link in feeling trapped in their lives. They both want more. Want to create something better for themselves. And they find that they may just be able to get that through each other. But then Aladidn is arrested and Jafar lies that he was executed, breaking Jasmine and essentially ensuring that she wasn’t going to leave again.

Then Prince Ali shows up. Jasmine is angered because he appears pompous and because her everyone si trying to make decisions about her without her consent. She isn’t a prize to be won. Ali, of course, is Aladdin, and once Jasmine tells him off, he realizes how the persona he’s putting on is wrong. He acts more like himself, showing that he likes Jasmine not because of her looks or money, but because she’s a fun, strong-willed person. Once she sees this and suspects he’s Aladdin, she goes with him on the magic carpet. A Whole New World is one of the most romantic scenes in any movie period. You will never be able to convince me otherwise. It ends with Jasmine realizing Ali’s identity, and while he still lies, Aladdin acts like himself and Jasmine falls for the person he truly is.

But of course, Aladdin is still lying. So he still needs to prove himself worthy after. Which he does by defeating Jafar despite having only his street rat skills to aid him. But he accomplishes it masterfully. He realizes that he can't live a lie or force Genie into servitude just to fulfill his won want. He frees Genie, but he didn't need his magic by then. he more than proved himself to the Sultan, who lets Jasmine choose who she wants. I think he’d have done this long before if not for Jafar’s hypnosis, and the smile of Jasmine’s face is just beautiful. She chooses Aladdin, and it is indeed a whole new world for both of them. It’s just so genuine and pure and I love them.

So... back at the top, I said there was one exception to the ‘strictly form Disney animated features’ rule. Why? Because I just could not leave this one off. It would feel wrong because it is one of, if not the, most perfect and longest-lasting couples in all fo entertainment. Who am I talking about? 

#1. Mickey and Minnie Mouse

As the old saying goes: it all started with a mouse.

Mickey and Minnie is so freakin pure it makes me feel the warm fuzzies if I so much as see a photo of them. Really, anything they are in together makes me feel that way. For over ninety years, these two have graced pretty much every media form ever and have been together in some fashion throughout it. They have the same birthday and last name for crying out loud! This was destiny!

Both Mickey and Minnie are sweet and endearing. Mickey is the face of Disney and while I know some find him bland and one-note, there’s always just been this charm to him. I love how much of a sweetie he is, and he does have his mischevious streak. Minnie over the years has become more sassy and stern, letting her not just be Mickey’s girlfriend. But no matter what changes the two have been through, their utter love for each other has never faded away. You can put them in anything in any setting, and they will be head over heel for each other. 

I mean even their longest-lasting voice actors, Wayne Allwine and Russi Taylor, got married due to these roles. Mickey ad Minie got married in real life. It really showed too. You could just tell that Mickey and Minnie, Wayne and Russi, were just so in love and it made you love them. It’s something that’s gonna be hard due to Wayne and Russi’s passings, but true love is eternal. That love will always exit through Mickey and Minnie. Even when Bret Iwan and Chris Diamantopolis took over Mickey, you still feel the love between Mickey and Minnie and I’m sure that whoever takes over Minnie will also keep that intact. That love is immortalized, and I will continue to love every second of it.

Mickey Mouse is the one who started it all, but Mickey and Minnie are the ones who started Disney’s pure love stories. I think that’s something that Disney has always been good at. Sure the romances can be rushed and happen at first sight. Even they’ve made fun of themselves for it But they’re just so good at it. As they say, don’t fix what ain’t broke. Maybe give it a fresh coat of paint, but don’t fix what doesn't need it. I look forward to seeing future Disney pairs, and I will cherish them all, both old and new Happy Valentines Day everyone~

[c-is-for-circinate]

The last three months of this decade...

October

--I am absolutely out of all meds, and also Medicaid has officially dropped me, precisely one month after they finally admit I qualify in the first place.

--I finally quit my truly shitty part-time job, resigning myself to making rent entirely on my slightly less shitty part-time tutoring job and figuring more shit out in two weeks once I have more time.

--I have a birthday.  The next morning, my paternal grandmother dies after a long illness, sending my father’s enormous, overly-political family into a tailspin of public grief and private combat on every single front.

--I start tutoring three new students in approximately five new subjects, and am now working every single day of the week.

--I successfully DM four times

--I listen to nearly the entire first season of that podcast I don’t listen to or talk about any more, giving me nightmares and a persistent fear off the dark for the next month.

November

--I wake up on November 1 to an email from my landlord informing me that my rent is going up by $350 on the first of next month.

--I recruit my mother to help me apartment-hunt, which leads to two straight weeks of all SORTS of exciting bullshit of all the most predictably terrible kinds.  Also, it’s clearly her fault that my sister and I are terrible with money, and she’s going to pray for forgiveness for failing us like that very soon.

--I take on three more tutoring students, retake the SAT for the first time in fifteen years, and at least start making enough money that I can mostly hopefully make rent on the upcoming new apartment, not that any proposed landlords believe me.

--I successfully DM at least twice, probably, who even knows any more.  Our bard moves halfway across the country on precisely one and a half weeks’ notice.  I recruit us a brand new cleric, handle all of his character creation in between scheduling moving trucks, and make goddamn chicken and dumplings for game night to clear the stockpiled meat out of my freezer.

--The day before Thanksgiving, my mother begs off couch shopping for the new place I’ve finally signed a lease for because, sigh, dad’s weirdly dizzy, she guesses she’ll take him to the walk-in clinic, maybe she’ll meet me at the furniture store later.  Six hours later it becomes clear he’s had a major stroke and will be in the hospital for the forseeable future.

December

--I pack.  I move.  This is at least five bullet points.

--I get an excellent damn six-month tutoring review from every single tutoring student, barring the one that decided to quit tutoring six hours before a lesson via email and stopped answering emails from me or the company after that, and also the one that cancelled a scheduled lesson by moving and not telling me their new address until I showed up at their old front door.  I tutor every single kid so good.  I answer last-minute calculus panicking questions via text at 9:45 PM on a Tuesday night.

--I continue to successfully DM, god damnit, so help me god.  My players do not successfully manage to provide a working electric drill to hang my spice rack.

--I spend three entire days at my parents’ house for Christmas.  We spend most of those days hanging out in a hospital room attempting to pretend not to notice when my dad starts crying multiple times an hour.  He is, at least, engaging with a negative emotion other than anger, so that’s probably a positive, right?

--I come home to the new, still-not-unpacked apartment, go to bed, and wake up the morning after Christmas with the flu.

I am ending 2019 with the flu.   I don’t even have the energy to comment on the appropriateness of that fact.  I am so done with literally everything.

2020 is going to be great and I cannot fucking wait to put this entire bullshit decade behind me

[scotianostra]

On December 3rd 1894, Robert Louis Stevenson died in Samoa

The Scottish novelist, poet and traveller Robert Louis Balfour Stevenson was born in Edinburgh in 1850. After considering professions in law and engineering, he pursued his interest in writing. A prolific literary career ensued, which included Treasure Island , The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and Kidnapped. Stevenson travelled extensively to America and the South Seas, settling in Samoa in 1890, and getting involved in life and politics there. In the tropical climate, his imagination turned to Edinburgh, and he wrote Catriona , a sequel to Kidnapped. At his death he left an unfinished masterpiece Weir of Hermiston, set in 19th-century Edinburgh and the Lammermuirs.

In 1890 Stevenson bought land on Samoa and set about having a house built, he was not your normal empire building settler though. To their colonial meddlers, the Samoans were backward savages, inhabiting an imagined utopia of fruitful nudity and ease. But Stevenson soon felt his way into Samoan culture. Even his acknowledgement that they had a culture at all set him at an angle to the imperialists. He found the Samoan people admirable. He wrote, “They are easy, merry, and pleasure-loving” – but also given to warfare.

Having decided to integrate, Stevenson set about learning the Samoan language and, as a way of understanding the situation he encountered on the island, he identified parallels with Scotland. Stevenson may have been a Lowlander and a conservative but, like many Scots, he was seduced by the romance of the Jacobites, and the Scottish Highlands fuelled his imagination. He could feel for the situation in Samoa by referring to the Highlands after the failure of the Jacobite Risings. Both societies had clan systems. In both cases, the indigenous people faced the occupation of their land and suppression of their culture. But the Jacobite times were over and romanticised, not least by Stevenson, and the Samoan situation was happening in front of his eyes.

Taking the Samoan name “Tusitala” – “writer of tales” – Stevenson sought out local stories (chieftains and their families became guests at his house), but he could give as good as he got. He not only recorded Samoan legends, as an anthropologist might, but he offered Scottish stories in return. he used weird tales of brownies, kelpies and the like to win Samoan friends. The story that became “The Bottle Imp” was told to him in the South Seas.

Getting to know the Samoans problems, Stevenson found it longer sufficient to be a romancer. He experienced a desire to address and influence political issues, right from the hot spot. He quickly became the annoying activist, lecturer, reporter and agitator, firing off letters to the Times, ambivalent about missionaries, a friend to Samoan chieftains. As well as championing the islanders abroad, he apparently felt himself “entitled to plunge head-first on arrival into the political affairs of Samoa”.

Stevenson’s A Footnote to History appeared in 1892. It’s a poor title, but the subtitle – “Eight Years of Trouble in Samoa” better explains it, thought little known now, it was a noble attempt to write about the place and was seen as a micro history of the islands.

His latter years were spent more and more in ill health, had Stevenson survived to old age we may have seen him develop more into a championing journalistic type of writer, but his early demise robbed the world not only of a very talented writer, but the chance for Stevenson to mature into that champion of the Samoan people he had the potential to be.

Robert died on december 3rd 1894 at his home on his estate in the village of Vailima, his body was buried on the summit of Paa Mountain, 1,300 feet high.

Although mainly seen as a writer of stories, RLS wrote many poems, including this one, which suits the post today.

Requiem

Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea And the hunter home from the hill.

Pics are Robert Louis Stevenson, his family and Samoans, and the band of HMS Tauranga at Vailima and the property, now a museum in his honour.

Here is a contemporary news article from 1894, with an obituary on RLShttp://movies2.nytimes.com/…/gener…/onthisday/bday/1113.html

[phosphorescent-naidheachd]

Evaluating Sansa’s Betrayal in AGOT

@ John Hodgman, I cordially invite you to fight me over these comments in your 2016 intro to A Game of Thrones: The Illustrated Edition: “After all, it’s Sansa’s escapist addiction to the old tales and the romantic pablum of Florian and Jonquil that fuels her great, catastrophic betrayal of the actual humans around her.” 

Although I’m a huge Sansa fan, I’m not one of those people who believes that she bears no culpability for the consequences of having told Cersei about her father’s intention to take them away from King’s Landing. BUT. To call her actions not merely a betrayal or even a catastrophic betrayal, but a “great, catastrophic betrayal” is utter bullshit, and by focusing solely on Sansa’s “escapist addiction” to romances, you’re flattening the factors behind her (admittedly poor) decision to trust Cersei, and indeed the factors behind her willingness to buy into those romantic songs in the first place. I understand the point you’re making, but I also think you’re rather overstating it.

Let’s break this claim down piece by piece, shall we?

1. Sansa’s “escapist addiction” to romances

There’s no denying that Sansa loves romantic tales and ballads, nor that---thanks to a sheltered childhood---she mistakenly believes them to be unalloyed truth. However, look at the context of her upbringing. Sansa has been raised in a patriarchal society that encourages her to believe in these songs, largely because they reinforce existing social roles and make her easier to control. Moreover, it’s clear that as of the beginning of AGOT, no authority figure has seriously tried to teach Sansa otherwise. I don’t believe this was done maliciously---I think that her parents and Septa Mordane don’t want to disillusion her quite yet, and assume that there’s still plenty of time left to teach her the realities of the world before she leaves Winterfell. (And if it weren’t for the death of Jon Arryn, they might even have been right! Though I also think there’s an element of self-delusion at work in this line of thinking, as I’ll get into later in #2.) I also get the sense that Sansa sometimes slips through the cracks a bit because she isn’t a ‘problem child’; Sansa is far from perfect, but she’s generally well-behaved and she naturally fits into the idealized Westerosi conception of a noblewoman. The gaps in her education and emotional maturity aren’t as immediately glaringly obvious as, say, Arya’s are, and that makes it easy for a busy adult to put those gaps on a back burner to deal with some nebulous time ‘later’. (Arya slips through the cracks too, but it’s a different set of cracks, if that makes any sense. Despite their differences, both Sansa and Arya are failed by prescribed Westerosi gender roles, but that’s a discussion for another day.)

Also, anyone who is reading ASOIAF for pleasure doesn’t really have a foot to stand on regarding enjoying escapist fantasies, IMO. The world of ASOIAF may be “brutal”, as you say, but that doesn’t mean visiting it isn’t a form of escapism. Fiction of any form is inherently escapist, even as it often acts as a mirror that forces us to confront aspects of our own reality. (I don’t know if I’d entirely agree that GRRM has “captured the authentic meanness of the medieval world” either, by the way---he notoriously makes certain aspects of life in Westeros worse than they were in RL medieval Europe---but that’s also a conversation for another day.)

To be certain, Sansa internalizes fictional narratives more than your average reader of the series, but that’s partially because, at least on a surface level, her life easily could become one that belongs in the songs she loves. For instance, long before King Robert suggests betrothing Sansa to Joffrey, it���s not wholly in the realm of fantasy for her to dream of marrying a prince; considering her position in life, it’s a solid potential actuality. (Once again, more on this later in #2.) Sansa doesn’t fully understand what being part of a song would mean for her---that is to say, high romance generally necessitates high tragedy---nor does she fully appreciate the responsibilities and costs associated with becoming royalty, but considering she’s eleven/twelve years old in AGOT? That’s perfectly normal for a noble girl her age, even within the context of the universe of ASOIAF. (Are there exceptions to this? Absolutely. But that’s what they are: exceptions.) Just look at Alla and Elinor and Megga Tyrell!

Furthermore, while there’s an element of escapism to Sansa’s love of songs---when we first meet her, Sansa can’t wait to go South and have her ‘real’ life begin---I would argue that Sansa doesn’t actively indulge in much escapism or self-delusion until after the Baratheons arrive at Winterfell. Even after seeing Joffrey’s cruelty at Ruby Ford, she forces herself---and him---into the narratives that she loves and has been implicitly taught that she should emulate right up to the point where denial becomes impossible (i.e. her father’s execution). This is because one of Sansa’s innate survival/coping mechanisms is her ability to lie to herself as much as to others; we see this most clearly in AGOT and in AFFC.* So when the events at the Ruby Ford occur in AGOT, Sansa’s initial instinct is to ‘forget’ what actually happened. (This is aided by the fact that Joffrey had been plying her with wine---far more, we’re explicitly told, than she’s ever been allowed to drink before.) It isn’t just that she doesn’t want her golden prince and fairytale future to have been a lie---though that’s certainly a key motivator!---or callousness towards a peasant boy or frustration with her sister’s refusal to play according to societal rules (though these are both certainly present), but it’s also that she’s being questioned about events in front of an audience... in front of individuals with tremendous power over her, both because they’re royalty and because they’re her future family members. 

As Sansa has undoubtedly been taught, once a woman is married, her first loyalty must be to her husband and his family over the family of her birth. And while it’s true that betrothed is not the same thing as married, betrothals seem to be taken relatively seriously in Westeros. You can certainly argue that had Eddard Stark been aware of Joffrey’s true nature earlier, he would have broken the betrothal, but A. Sansa has no way to know that, B. breaking a betrothal is much easier said than done when dealing with royalty, especially when you’re going to be in close quarters with them for the foreseeable future, and C. as we’ll realize later, Ned is perfectly willing to let the (pretense of a?) betrothal stand if it will allow him to further investigate Jon Arryn’s death. What happened on the banks of the Trident was terrifying, it happened quickly, Sansa was tipsy, and if she speaks out one way or the other she’ll have to make a choice between her sister or the man who is going to be her husband... with deeply unpleasant consequences for herself (and likely Arya as well) regardless of which version of events she chooses to support. With all of this in mind, it’s easy enough for her to convince herself that it’s all a blur. So while Sansa’s (likely subconscious) decision to ‘forget’ what happened on the banks of the Trident isn’t admirable, it is understandable. 

Ultimately, it isn’t Sansa’s fascination with romantic songs that fuels her poor decisions so much as it is the society that encourages her to believe in them. If notions like ‘baseborn < trueborn’, ‘outer beauty = inner goodness’, and ‘proper behavior = rewards’ weren’t given weight in real life---even if only on the surface---it would be much harder for her to cling to the version of reality that the songs are peddling. 

Once again, none of this is to say that Sansa lacks all culpability for her actions due to her socialization. Sansa’s decisions are her own. My point is merely that her “escapist addiction” to romances isn’t the true root of the problem... it’s the society that created and perpetuated those songs to begin with.

*In AFFC, Sansa has consciously begun the process of being Alayne all the time as per Littlefinger’s words. (How well she’ll succeed in this---at least in the short term---is impossible to predict until we get TWOW.) She also has subconsciously transformed the memory of her encounter with Sandor Clegane during the traumatic Battle of Blackwater Bay into one that fits better in one of her beloved romances; in this altered memory, rather than threaten her in a sexually-tinged manner while holding a dagger to her throat, Sandor merely steals a kiss and a song. 

Note that Sansa began this subconscious transformation of her memory in ASOS by adding in a kiss and taking away the dagger: “He'd come to her the night of the battle stinking of wine and blood. He kissed me and threatened to kill me, and made me sing him a song”. By the time AFFC has rolled around, however, she has seemingly eliminated the memory of his threats altogether, while still keeping in the kiss and using language vaguely reminiscent of a wedding’s cloaking and bedding: “She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak”. 

2. Sansa’s betrayal of her family in King’s Landing

Sansa and Arya are both criminally unprepared for life at court in AGOT. This is somewhat excusable in that if Jon Arryn hadn’t died, they wouldn’t have needed to be prepared yet. However, anyone with a particle of political sense could have seen that there was a solid 90% possibility of Sansa becoming betrothed to Joffrey someday. There just aren’t that many daughters from the Great Houses of the right age in the Seven Kingdoms at this point in time. Add in the fact that the current king considers Eddard Stark his brother and was once betrothed to a Stark himself, and the likelihood of Sansa being chosen doubles or even triples.

So why haven’t Sansa’s parents and septa furthered her political education beyond knowing her sigils and courtesies? (Both of which are certainly important, but there’s only so far Sansa can go on them alone.) Sansa’s a tad young for a betrothal, but she’s not so young that her parents shouldn’t be making plans in that direction... Catelyn, after all, wasn’t much older than AGOT!Sansa when she was first betrothed to Brandon Stark. And even if they haven’t started making plans for Sansa, it’s very odd that Robb, the heir, is still unbetrothed at fourteen/fifteen. 

The real reason, of course, is the Doylist one: GRRM needed to write it that way for the plot to work, just as he needed both Stark girls to be poorly chaperoned and without a proper retinue of ladies-in-waiting. From a Watsonian perspective, however, the primary answer is that both of the Stark parents---but particularly Ned---are suffering from PTSD from the events surrounding Robert’s Rebellion and subconsciously don’t want to teach their children these things or to plan too far ahead into their futures; to do so would mean acknowledging that their children are growing up and will eventually have to leave their circle of protection. This is especially true for their treatment of Sansa and Arya, since according to chivalric sexism, noble girls are ‘innocent’ and in need of protection longer than their male counterparts. Ned Stark in particular seems to feel the urge to shelter and indulge Sansa and Arya, likely due to the trauma of having watched his 16-year-old sister’s death. Besides, there’s always something more immediately urgent, which makes it easy for both parents to procrastinate. This isn’t to say that the Starks didn’t impart valuable lessons to their children, but at the end of the day, they still neglected certain key areas of their children’s education.

Unfortunately, not only are the Stark children unprepared for court politics, but no adult takes any steps to fix this problem once they know that the King is riding to Winterfell. No ‘onscreen’ steps are taken to prepare the Stark girls after Sansa’s betrothal to Joffrey is fixed, nor while traveling on the King’s Road, nor even during their time at King’s Landing. In fact, the closest we see to Sansa getting an education on what ruling might mean is when her septa takes her to watch her father acting as Hand in the throne room, and he is less than pleased about it: “He caught a glimpse of Septa Mordane in the gallery, with his daughter Sansa beside her. Ned felt a flash of anger; this was no place for a girl. But the septa could not have known that today's court would be anything but the usual tedious business of hearing petitions, settling disputes between rival holdfasts, and adjudicating the placement of boundary stones”. On one hand, Ned does have a point in wanting to protect his eleven-year-old daughter from hearing about the Mountain’s deeds; talk about nightmare fuel! On the other hand, he can’t protect her forever, and he brought a seven-year-old boy to watch an execution; there’s clearly a bit of a gender-based double-standard going on here.

Instead, the girls are poorly chaperoned by a single elderly septa, which is just begging for trouble... and trouble indeed arrives, starting with the events on the banks of the Ruby Ford. If Arya had been properly chaperoned, she never would have been able to run off to play with Mycah (the butcher’s boy), and if Sansa had been properly chaperoned, she wouldn’t have been placed in a position where she was the sole eyewitness to the incident with Joffrey, Arya, and Mycah. But that’s just one incident, you say? Don’t worry, there are plenty of others, the clearest one being the time that Septa Mordane gets drunk and falls asleep at a feast, leaving Sansa entirely at the mercy of Joffrey, Sandor, and anyone else who might walk by.

Moreover, Ned knows that the Lannisters aren’t trustworthy. He knows that something is rotten in King’s Landing. Arya gets a very vague warning (“We have come to a dark dangerous place, child. This is not Winterfell. We have enemies who mean us ill. We cannot fight a war among ourselves”) from him, but Sansa doesn’t even get that. I’m not saying that he necessarily should have told Sansa about his investigation, mind you---that’s a large burden to place on any child, AGOT!Sansa is not good at intentional deception yet, and she likely wouldn’t have initially believed him anyway. This doesn’t change the fact that Ned should have told her something to help prepare her for the very real dangers of King’s Landing. He should have known better than to believe that keeping Sansa ignorant would keep her safe; just look at the brutal murders of Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen for a start...

Yes, the Queen and Prince are directly responsible for Lady’s death, and yes the king is indirectly responsible for not stopping it, but once again: Sansa is a preteen girl. Of course she doesn’t want to believe that the family she’s going to marry into is truly at fault for the loss of her direwolf or that all of her long-held dreams are just illusions. It’s easy as a reader to say that that event and the murder of Mycah should have been warning enough for Sansa, but from Sansa’s perspective it’s not nearly so clear, especially since Joffrey framed his torture of Mycah as traditional courtly behavior (i.e. ‘defending’ Arya, who is a highborn maiden and the sister of his betrothed). For one thing, Sansa doesn’t have all the clues we as readers do to let us know that the Baratheon-Lannisters are Bad News(TM). (In fact, unlike the rest of the Stark children, Sansa has no notion that there might be serious enmity between the houses of Lannister and Stark---as opposed to just between Jaime Lannister and her father---until it’s too late.) For another, while her father might have protested Lady’s execution, he still went along with it in the end without much of a fight, so it’s not as though the royal family are the only ones to have ‘betrayed’ her. Besides, her father is still friends with Robert and she’s still betrothed to Joffrey... that wouldn’t be the case if the royal family was untrustworthy or cruel, would it? Of course not.

When Ned tells the girls that they’re leaving King’s Landing, he never actually explains why and he refuses to let them so much as say goodbye to anyone. It’s only natural that Sansa is confused and upset by this! From her perspective, this drastic action came out of nowhere. She certainly doesn’t understand that going to Cersei is dangerous or a betrayal. She sees it as ‘my father’s being unreasonable, so I’m going to go to my mother(in-law-to-be) and ask her to talk some sense into him and fix everything’.

While Cersei was the one to push for Lady’s death, Sansa has otherwise only ever gotten a sympathetic impression of Cersei; when around Sansa, Cersei has appeared solely as a courteous queen and the dignified victim of her husband’s drunken abuse. If Sansa wants to stay in King’s Landing, who else can she go to? Her father refuses to listen to her protestations or to explain anything to her, her septa only says that she shouldn’t question her father, and most of her other acquaintances don’t have any sway over her father’s decisions. That only leaves the Royal family, but Sansa finds King Robert too intimidating to approach alone. (“The king could command Father to let her stay in King's Landing and marry Prince Joffrey, Sansa knew he could, but the king had always frightened her. He was loud and rough-voiced and drunk as often as not, and he would probably have just sent her back to Lord Eddard, if they even let her see him.”) And although Sansa believes herself in love with her “gallant prince” Joffrey, she seems to find him intimidating too, if this quote of hers from a feast is any indication: “Sansa looked at him and trembled, afraid that he might ignore her or, worse, turn hateful again”. Ultimately, that leaves Cersei as Sansa’s only real choice.

Sansa is short-sighted and selfish when she tells Cersei what little she knows of her father’s plans, but she isn’t actively trying to choose sides in a war, let alone betray anyone. She’s a preteen who just wants her life to go back to what it’s ‘supposed’ to be according to what she’s been taught; what, up until now, it more or less has been. Right now, the worst thing she can imagine happening is what’s already happening---her father forcing her away from the glittering court, from her beloved Joffrey, and from her future as Queen. She knows her father will be angry with her for disobeying him, but it will all work out for the best this way, right?

3.  How “great” and “catastrophic” Sansa’s betrayal actually was

Finally, let’s tackle the “great, catastrophic” part of Sansa’s betrayal. When Sansa goes to Cersei, she’s largely only confirming what Cersei already knew. And how did Cersei know this information? Because Eddard Stark himself told her as part of his warning. (In fact, if we go by the calculations by the brilliant people who put this exhaustive ASOIAF spreadsheet together, there were 3-4 days in between when Ned confronted Cersei and when Sansa went to her.) The only new information Sansa provided Cersei with was that her father wanted to get herself and Arya away--something that Cersei had likely already surmised--as well as the date, time, and location for that departure, thus giving Cersei a more complete and specific understanding of Ned’s plans. 

In practical terms, this means that the primary consequence of Sansa informing Cersei was to negate Ned’s ability to get Sansa, Arya, and other members of the Stark household safely out of King’s Landing before shit started to go down. (Of course, keep in mind that even if Sansa hadn’t gone to Cersei, the success of that plan wasn’t a forgone conclusion.) Now don’t get me wrong, if Ned’s plan to get his household out of the city had worked, that would have been a tremendous improvement over what happened in the original canon timeline, not only for Sansa and Arya, but also for the many innocent Stark retainers who were killed by guards at the Red Keep and for poor Jeyne Poole. That said, it wouldn’t necessarily have changed all of the catastrophic things that happened to the Stark family as a whole. Chances are good that Ned still would have been executed for his ‘treason’ or been quietly offed in his cell. And once Ned was killed, the North’s involvement in the war became pretty much inevitable. Any consequences beyond that are difficult to accurately predict due to the butterfly effect, but I highly doubt the Starks’ lives would have been all rainbows and butterflies. There’s a war ahead, and their enemies include people like Petyr Baelish, Tywin Lannister, and---unless they end up allying with (f)Aegon in this AU---eventually Varys and Illyrio Mopatis. The remaining Starks’ lives probably would have been less traumatic than in canon, but that’s not exactly a high bar to clear, y’know?

Conclusion:

What happens to the Starks in ASOIAF in general and in AGOT in particular is catastrophic... but Sansa’s actions in AGOT are not the primary cause. Petyr Baelish, Lysa Arryn, the Lannisters, the Boltons, the Freys, Varys... even Ned and Catelyn Stark themselves are more immediately at fault for what befalls the Stark family than Sansa. (Which isn’t to say that all of the above parties are even remotely equally culpable!)

One of Sansa’s tragedies is that she embodies and does everything her society has told her she ought to be and do as a Westerosi noblewoman and she still gets screwed over. Everyone gets screwed over by the Westerosi patriarchy, highborn and low, man and woman; even girls who naturally fit into the mold of Westerosi womanhood and possess almost every possible societal advantage aren’t safe. As many of our protagonists of ASOIAF learn, following the chivalric rules of the songs will aid you to a certain degree, but it will only protect you as long as everyone else is playing by those rules too; and, as Petyr Baelish warns Sansa---though admittedly not without external motives---“life is not a song”.

That said, a portion of the ASOIAF fanbase has misunderstood part of the point of this series. Yes, unalloyed belief in the romantic songs is stupid and will only lead to self-delusion and disaster and heartbreak, but that doesn’t mean that we should discount the songs altogether either. Don’t get me wrong: many of the messages propagated by Sansa’s songs are bullshit. The good are not always beautiful, and the beautiful are not always good. Most people aren’t entirely ‘good’ or ‘bad’. ‘Moral’ choices are not always rewarded and ‘immoral’ choices are not always punished. In fact, there isn’t always a clearcut ‘right’ moral decision available, just different gradients of bad ones. Heroism isn’t always sallying forth with a sword, and sallying forth with a sword is not always heroism. A person’s social status or adherence to social ideals is no indicator of their quality as a person. And so on. 

However, it is in romantic songs like the ones that Sansa so loves that we also find ideals worth striving towards... ideals like selfless love, loyalty, justice, kindness, duty, and mercy. Just because those ideals may not reflect reality or may be warped by an imperfect society is no excuse not to try to make them reality when and where we can, whether we are successful in it or not. In fact, it is because reality does not always reflect or reward these ideals that they are so important. Without hope for something better and a willingness to work towards it, we’re left with a world filled with only Tywin Lannisters, Petyr Baelishes, Cersei Lannisters, and Gregor Cleganes... and that would be a sad world indeed. 

When Sandor Clegane says the following to Sansa in ACOK, we aren’t supposed to agree with him: “There are no true knights, no more than there are gods. If you can't protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can. Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don't ever believe any different". The truth lies somewhere in between the brutality of so much of the world and the perfection of the songs. Most knights may not be ‘true’ knights and the ‘truest' of knights may not be actual knights at all, but that doesn’t mean that the concept is without value. That doesn’t mean that the purpose of ‘true’ knights is worthless. You shouldn’t count on being saved by the actions a ‘true’ knight or by acting like a ‘true’ lady, but you should evince the best qualities of those roles yourself.

ASOIAF is absolutely about death and betrayal and despair, but it’s also about love and loyalty and hope. It’s about existential romanticism and existential triumph. It’s about looking the abyss in the eye, but refusing to let yourself become it.

I think you understand this, at least in part, because you yourself say in the introduction that “This [the fact that so many of the characters suffer, often pointlessly, and fail] may sound very bleak and cynical, but it ends up being the glory of the novel. Because it makes the triumphs, when they come, more earned, human, and exciting. It reminds us of and honors our own victories, helps us make sense of our own reversals, and warns us against our vanities.” 

A Game of Thrones may not be “very kind to fantasy”, but I would argue that GRRM is quite fond of fantasy; he just wants us to remember that neither the trappings of high fantasy (crowns, tourneys, magic, wars, etc.) nor true heroism ever come without a cost. 

In conclusion: I understand where you’re coming from, and I understand that you didn’t have the necessary amount of space in your introduction to go into this level of detail, but... (ง'̀-'́)ง