#this is about max / p and dany

[alexalblondo]

The way parts of this fanbase are so comfortable commenting on personal lives and creating narratives is so fucking gross actually

[radiaking]

We all….agree that Lucy would be like. The player character right? Coop and Maximus are both romanceable companions right? Coop at the end of s1 is just a quest giver right?!

[theartofangirling]

part 3 of the 2023 version of this post: adult books!

part 1: middle grade books | part 2: young adult books

this is a very incomplete list, as these are only books I've read and enjoyed. not all books are going to be for all readers, so I'd recommend looking up synopses and content warnings. feel free to message me with any questions about specific representation!

list of books under the cut ⬇️

yerba buena by nina lacour

if we were villains by m.l. rio

everyone in this room will someday be dead by emily r. austin

i want to be a wall by honami shirono

portrait of a thief by grace d. li

the thirty names of night by zeyn joukhadar

on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong

love & other disasters by anita kelly

take a hint, dani brown by talia hibbert

boyfriend material by alexis hall

almost like being in love by steve kluger

the charm offensive by alison cochrun

something wild & wonderful by anita kelly

red, white & royal blue by casey mcquiston

something to talk about by meryl wilsner

honey girl by morgan rogers

one last stop by casey mcquiston

once ghosted, twice shy by alyssa cole

kiss her once for me by alison cochrun

a spindle splintered by alix e. harrow

finna by nino cipri

every heart a dooryway by seanan mcguire

the starless sea by erin morgenstern

under the whispering door by tj klune

space opera by catherynne m. valente

light from uncommon stars by ryka aoki

dead collections by isaac fellman

the city we became by n.k. jemisin

light carries on by ray nadine

an absolutely remarkable thing by hank green

feed them silence by lee mandelo

summer sons by lee mandelo

upright women wanted by sarah gailey

lavender house by lev a.c. rosen

fried green tomatoes at the whistle stop cafe by fannie flagg

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid

a master of djinn by p. djeli clark

witchmark by c.l. polk

a marvellous light by freya marske

a restless truth by freya marske

when women were dragons by kelly barnhill

plain bad heroines by emily m. danforth

a lady for a duke by alexis hall

infamous by lex croucher

passing strange by ellen klages

even though i knew the end by c.l. polk

the chosen and the beautiful by nghi vo

whiskey when we're dry by john larison

wake of vultures by lila bowen

silver in the wood by emily tesh

the once and future witches by alix e. harrow

the kingdoms by natasha pulley

a tip for the hangman by allison epstein

she who became the sun by shelley parker-chan

the song of achilles by madeline miller

spear by nicola griffith

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone

gideon the ninth by tamsyn muir

some desperate glory by emily tesh

all systems red by martha wells

a psalm for the wild built by becky chambers

the mimicking of known successes by malka older

winter's orbit by everina maxwell

fireheart tiger by aliette de bodard

empress of salt and fortune by nghi vo

legends and lattes by travis baldree

the house in the cerulean sea by tj klune

other ever afters by melanie gillman

the priory of the orange tree by samantha shannon

a day of fallen night by samantha shannon

a strange and stubborn endurance by foz meadows

the unbroken by c.l. clark

real queer america by samantha allen

fun home by alison bechdel

in the dream house by carmen maria machado

better living through birding by christian cooper

why fish don't exist by lulu miller

[javier-pena]

quicksand

Pairing: Pedro's unnamed character in Materialists x f!reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You meet a stranger at a party.

Warnings: smoking | drinking | creepy men | reader gets her butt slapped by a stranger | infidelity | cheating | age gap (reader is in her early to mid 20s, her boyfriend is in his 50s, I’m putting Pedro’s character in Materialists in his late 40s) | emotional neglect (boarding on emotional abuse) | reader has long-ish hair that can get wet without it being an issue | a little bit of self-loathing | possessiveness (the good kind and the bad kind | hands hands hands hands hands | oral (f receiving) | a little bit of praise kink | voyeurism | mirror sex | (unprotected) p in v sex | rough sex | multiple orgasms | overstimulation | a tiny tiny bit of degradation | oral fixation (🫣) | choking | dirty talk | creampie | cum eating

Notes: Last week I saw these behind the scenes shots of Pedro in Materialists and somehow I had to write 8,000 words about that? I'm also not quite sure what happened, it was supposed to be like 3k max. There was also this ask Han @swiftispunk received that I couldn't get out of my head. The title is inspired by Ms Swift's song Treacherous (And I'll do anything you say / If you say it with your hands / And I'd be smart to walk away / But you're quicksand), the rest is inspired by going completely feral whenever new pictures dropped. Tremendous thanks to Dani @alexturner who just beta'd a long-ass fic last week and then this fic this week - you're being way too good to me with indulging all thoughts I have that I have to turn into short stories 🫣 My dear, sweet anon who kept sending me encouraging asks, this is for you!!

***

There’s laughter coming from downstairs, deep, rumbling laughter impossible to ignore. Your whole body seems to shake with it, your heart stutters in your chest angrily, and you press your hands over your ears. But the loud voices are still there, mocking you with their indifference to your pain. You bury your face in your cool satin pillow and sob into it, ruining the expensive fabric. You don’t fucking care.

All your friends warned you this would happen and you hate how they were right. “You’re nothing but a toy to him.” Shut up, Marissa, you’re just jealous. “Maybe you should look for a boyfriend who’s closer to you in age.” Maybe you should look for a boyfriend, period. “You’re only a fuckmaid to him, do you realize that?” That was the point you stopped listening to them and, at the same time, it was the point you should have started listening.

You are nothing but a toy to him. You should have looked for someone closer to you in age. You are … no, you can’t bring yourself to even think the word, because the truth hurts too much. The truth and your blindness and your stupidity and the fact that you’re throwing your life away for a man who breaks every promise he makes and who treats you like a pet. A beautiful, expensive pet that can be ignored whenever it’s convenient.

“Come with me to the Keys,” he whispered into your ear, his breath hotter than his steadily cooling release sticking to your thighs.

“What?” you asked, heart clenching painfully. When was the last time he cared enough to make you come? Months ago?

“Come with me to the Keys,” he repeated. “The change of scenery will be good for us. I’ll show you around. We can go deep sea fishing. I’ll buy you some dresses and bathing suits. Just take my card tomorrow.”

He brushed your hair away from your neck, kissed the skin there, cupped one of your breasts, squeezed it hard. “Piers,” you warned, tried to get away from him. But there was nowhere to go.

The truth is you had been looking forward to his trip. Had been looking forward to having the apartment to yourself for a while. It’s not like you would’ve done anything in particular except just breathe for once.

“Don’t be like that,” he mumbled against your neck, squeezed your breast again. “Don’t you want to sip on a nice cocktail? Wear a risqué outfit for me?”

No, you didn’t want that. But if you didn’t say yes soon, he’d get angry. “Okay,” you gave in. “But you have to promise me that you’ll spend one day with me. No business.”

What’s easily promised is easily broken.

Today is supposed to be your day. And for once in your life, you thought it would be. Piers took you out for breakfast, right by the water. You watched the sunshine dance across the waves. Then he showed you around town, took you to his favorite spots in Key West, even held your hand. And you thought, This is it. I’m finally worthy of him. Then came the call, followed by those emails, and suddenly Piers was like, “Sorry, babe, I have to meet them, they’re important business partners. Why don’t you go to the beach club, buy yourself a nice massage? Here’s my card.”

Here's my card. You’ve never hated three words more.

What you didn’t expect was to come home to a party. At least twenty men were milling around the house Piers liked to refer to as his “Key West Residence”, a late 19th century villa. Twenty loud men, rich like Piers, most of them his age, leering at you as you stepped through the front door, mistaking you for tonight’s entertainment.

“Babe!” Piers boomed, spilling half his drink while opening his arms as if he meant to hug you. The glances didn’t stop. “Go upstairs, freshen up, put on something nice, and then let me show you off.”

You managed to complete the first step before breaking down on your bed. You’ve been sobbing ever since.

Something breaks downstairs and some of the men roar. You bury your face deeper against the pillow, terrified to go back downstairs, terrified to stay up here. Whatever you do, it will be the wrong thing. You close your eyes and think about what it would be like if the men downstairs vanished. If you had the house to yourself, sharing it with a person you loved and who loved you in return. You could be having dinner on the patio now. Before that, you might go for a swim in the pool, knowing the only eyes on you were your partner’s, the only glances you received were welcome.

You sit up straight. You might hate it when Piers’ business partners look at you like you’re a piece of meat, but Piers hates it too if they don’t do it without being invited. Twenty men imagining all the vile ways in which they could fuck you is the last thing you want right now, but it’s also the last thing Piers wants.

You stumble into the bathroom and wash your face with ice cold water, willing the puffiness of your eyes to recede. You put on your most expensive makeup, the kind that only comes off with intensive scrubbing, then you pick your most revealing bikini and put it on. If those men stared at you like that in a long sundress, their heads will probably explode if they see you like this.

Chin held high, beach towel thrown over your shoulder, you make your way downstairs on high heels the same shade of black as your bikini. You feel utterly stupid, like you’re giving them exactly what they want, but the flush that spreads across Piers’ cheeks when he sees you is worth it. There are some whistles, a few crude comments, one man slaps your ass, but you make it to the pool. None of them are brave enough to follow you outside.

The water is cool against your skin, doing its best to extinguish the fire that burns within you. The flames don’t die down completely but they’re certainly soothed. You start to swim, one length, then three, and soon the party resumes and the men pick up their conversations again. This almost feels normal; this almost feels like a life you could enjoy. Except that you’re alone. And not in a way you crave.

You stop swimming and start drifting on your back, watching the sky above turn from a gentle blue into a soft pink, a bright orange, a deep purple. Soon, the sun will go down and the party will pick up speed. You should go, put on a dress, let Piers show you off, vanish before they’ve had too much alcohol.

You climb out of the pool, squeeze water out of your hair, wrap the towel around yourself. No one is paying attention to you now, so you pick up your heels to carry them back upstairs. There’s no way you’ll make it back to your room without one or two unwanted glances, without the odd rude comment, but you can live with that. You step onto the patio, eyes firmly fixed on your destination, then start walking through the gathering, careful not to look at anyone, careful not to be seen.

Someone sees you though. It’s not Piers, and it also isn’t one of the men who look at you and lick their lips. It’s someone watching you from the shadows, someone on one of the chairs in the parlor. Keep your eyes on the stairs, you tell yourself. Nothing good can come from this. While you were in the pool, Piers must have turned on the music, old jazz songs he always plays when he wants to appear sophisticated. The tinny sounds of saxophones make your ears ring, irritating you more than the heavy smell of cigar smoke that seems to be seeping into every corner of the house. You feel horrible between all those men dressed in their suits, even with the towel covering most of your skin. And you wish that one man would stop watching you because it makes you feel hunted, makes your body beg to run and hide.

At the foot of the stairs you pause, your heart in your throat. A man brushes past you, pretending like there is only so little room he has to press his palm against the small of your back. You turn around looking for Piers, ready to pretend you have a horrific migraine and won’t be joining him after all, when your eyes land on the man who is making the hair at the back of your neck stand with his unrelenting gaze.

You can’t see him properly because he’s half hidden behind the door to the parlor, a room that’s devoid of proper lighting and full of cigar smoke. But you see his dark eyes on you, feel them look right through you, see you for who you are, while he laughs at something the man next to him is saying. You crane your neck to get a better look at him but two other men walk past, obscuring your view. When they spot you and start to make their way toward you, you bolt up the stairs. At least no one will dare to follow you up here.

*******

“There she is!” Piers announces later, opening his arms wide again. He doesn’t spill his drink this time. You step into his embrace and let him kiss your cheek. “Took you long enough, doll.” You hate it when he calls you that, but you keep on smiling. Then he leans closer and whispers, “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it. Letting another man touch you! What’s wrong with you?”

So it did bother him after all. It should make you feel proud, but it only makes you feel empty. “I’m sorry,” you whisper back and kiss him. Someone at the back of the room whistles.

“Just try to behave for the rest of the night,” he says coldly, then smiles at you and asks in his loud business voice, “Isn’t she lovely?”

Some of the men nod but none dare to look at you directly. Not when Piers has his arm slung around your shoulder anyway.

“How about a drink?” he asks you and when you nod, he takes your hand and leads you toward the bar at the back of the parlor. You follow him, shivering slightly from the evening breeze blowing in through the open French doors. The smoke in the room makes your eyes sting.

With practiced ease, Piers fills a sparkling glass with vodka and soda, adding a bit of lime juice. You try to ignore the man who is standing a little bit too close to you, whose eyes hang a little bit too low.

“Here you are.” Piers hands you the glass. “I have something to discuss with those gentlemen over there,” he nods at two men standing by the door to his study, “but I shouldn’t be too long. Try not to cause too much of a scene while I’m gone.”

You close your fingers around the glass and nod. All you want to do is run.

As soon as he’s gone, they start to close in on you. It’s what Piers wants. He wants others to desire what belongs to him – his apartment, his car, his life. You’re part of all of that. He wants these men to desire you, to think they can have you. You should have listened to your friends, to Marissa and Annie and all the others. If you had, you might hate yourself less.

You know they all want to talk to you and they won’t take no for an answer, so you start to make your way toward the open French doors to escape into the garden. If you stand right at the edge, you can hear the waves whisper and feel the ocean breeze on your face. And if you keep still long enough, they might forget about you.

You don’t even make it out the door before your eyes start to wander from the lush green bushes and trees outside and land on a man sitting in a leather armchair close to the open doors. You don’t know if it’s the same one whose gaze you felt on you earlier, but there’s something about him that makes it hard for you to look away. He’s in the middle of a conversation, one leg comfortably slung across the other, ankle resting against thigh. One of his hands is spread on his knee, his fingers stroking and tapping the expensive fabric of his back dress pants in a nervous tick. His other hand is wrapped around a glass full of amber liquid that he takes a swig from right as you walk past, pretending not to notice how the muscles in his neck work as he swallows, pretending not to notice the gold ring on his little finger that clinks against the glass as he lowers it again.

Your own drink untouched, you stand on the patio, off to the side where you hope no one will notice you but where you can look at that stranger from time to time. You don’t think you’ve seen him before, but you don’t usually pay a lot of attention to Piers’ associates. None of the men here this evening look familiar. Still, there is something about the way this man runs his fingers through his dark curls from time to time, the way he tries to smooth the wrinkles in his white shirt, the way he takes a drag from a big, dark brown cigar once in a while that makes it impossible for you to look away. Until another man demands your attention.

“Hi there,” he says, his laugh showing off perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. “I’m Hutton.”

You think about saying, “And I’m not interested,” but to Piers that would probably count as causing a scene. And Hutton looks like he’s one of the younger men here, probably in his late 30s. There are worse guys to talk to. “Hi,” you reply with a sweet smile.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” He steps closer to you, encouraged by your smile.

“Yes,” you reply. “So how do you know Piers?”

If he’s annoyed by you bringing up your boyfriend right away, he doesn’t let it show. “We work together,” he answers, which could mean anything in Piers’s world.

“And what brings you to Key West?”

“The scenery,” Hutton answers, not even trying to hide his hungry gaze that glides over your naked shoulders and cleavage.

“I thought it was business,” you say, your smile faltering slightly. “Seeing you’re here.”

“I try not to mix business with pleasure.” Hutton leans against the small sliver of wall between the French doors and the corner of the house. “It’s neither good for business nor pleasure.”

You hum, trying to take a step back. You’re already at the edge of the patio though, and you almost stumble off it, losing your footing.

Hutton grabs your arm and pulls you toward him. “Careful there, pretty girl.”

You try to pull your arm back but he won’t let go. “Thank you,” you say at the same time as he says, “Have you ever thought about exchanging Piers for a younger model?”

It didn’t take him more than a few words exchanged to get to the point.

You yank your arm free but he grabs it again. “Stop it,” you command in your strictest voice but he only grins at you.

“Don’t be like this. I’m only fooling around.”

“Then let go of me.” He doesn’t.

You’re about to throw your drink in his face, even if it means Piers will be angry with you again, when someone steps out onto the patio.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

He’s standing right there, one hand in the pocket of his dark pants, the other holding his cigar. Shame washes over you and your palms grow sweaty. You really don’t need this right now. But Hutton immediately lets go of you and turns to face the newcomer.

“We’re good here, thanks,” he says, his jaw clenched.

The stranger takes his time to take a drag on his cigar, lets out the smoke while looking up at the now deep purple evening sky. “It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it?” he asks and Hutton lets out a sigh.

“Are you just going to keep standing there?” he asks.

The stranger shrugs.

You glance into the parlor, at all the men milling about, wondering if you could make your escape without anyone noticing. But there is something in the way the stranger holds himself that makes you want to stay and find out how this ends. Piers, by now, would have rushed past Hutton, a snarl on his lips, his anger directed at you. The stranger just stands there, his shoulders relaxed, acting as if he doesn’t even particularly care that you and Hutton are out here on the patio as well. It’s a different kind of threat … a different kind of protectiveness.

Hutton turns to you. “Are you coming?”

You shake your head and with a roll of his eyes and an annoyed, “Whatever,” he vanishes into the house, leaving you alone with him.

The silence unbearable, you say, “Thank you.”

He takes another drag on his cigar, then comes closer to you. You ignore how your heart flutters at his approach. He reaches for your hand and for a wild moment you think he’s going to grab your arm too, but he only takes the drink from your hand, sniffs the contents of the glass, then dumps it over the edge of the patio. “Let’s get you a proper drink,” he says.

You’re too stunned to do much more than follow him back into the house and toward the bar. Around you, the volume has risen since you stepped out onto the patio, but you don’t care as much as you did before. It’s hard to care about anything when your stomach is in a tight knot and when you feel like the world around you has gone completely quiet.

The man steps behind the bar, gently places his cigar in an ashtray, then regards the collection of bottles before him with his hands on his hips. “You don’t look like a vodka girl to me,” he mumbles, and you feel your face grow hot. You don’t know why. “Here.” He pulls out a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vermouth. You only now notice how big his hands are, and your mind immediately starts to replay the evening. His hand on his knee, his hand around his glass, his hand … You shake your head, but the shiny gold ring on his little finger glitters enticingly as he unscrews the bottle of vermouth to smell the alcohol within. It’s like you’re a magpie, enchanted by everything that glitters.

“Sweet enough,” he concludes, pouring a little vermouth and a lot of whiskey into a martini glass. Then he goes through all the bottles once more until he finds one of lavender bitter and adds it to the mix.

“What is that?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m not done yet.” There’s a small jar of cocktail cherries he unscrews. With skilled movements, he skewers two of them onto a silver cocktail stick before handing you the glass. The mix inside is orange on top, a reddish purple deeper below. It looks like the sunset you watched earlier.

“What is it?” you ask again.

“Taste it,” he tells you, an eager glint in his eyes.

You take a careful sip and widen your eyes in surprise at the strong yet sweet taste. “Oh, this is really good!”

“It’s sweet, like you,” he says, then seems to change his mind, adopting a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “It’s a Manhattan. That’s where you belong, not in this tourist trash kind of town.”

That makes you laugh. “Hey, I like it here.”

The bar is still between you but he leans on it to get closer to you. “I bet you would also like Manhattan if I showed you around.”

“I’m from Manhattan,” you tell him. “I live there, actually.”

“I do too,” he responds. “Funny how we should run into each other here, of all places.”

You inhale shakily. You don’t know why. “If you hate it here so much, what are you doing here?”

He smiles at you, and you’re sure your heart stops. “I heard you talk to that other guy. I’m not here to have a conversation like that with you.”

You take another sip from your cocktail even though it makes your head spin. “What are you here for then?”

“That’s just another way of asking me what I’m doing here, angel eyes,” he points out. He does it so smoothly you almost don’t notice the diminutive.

You straighten your back, only now realizing you were leaning on the bar close to him. He mirrors you, then walks around the wood between you so he can stand directly next to you. “You tell me what you want to talk about then. After all, you approached me, you made me a drink, you wanted to whisk me off to Manhattan.”

“That was before I realized how worldly you are,” he says and his smile turns sly.

“Oh?” you make. You swallow. “Am I too difficult for you then?”

“I like a challenge.”

This is where you should stop. This is where you should thank him again for rescuing you, and for the drink, and where you should walk away to find your boyfriend, who surely has to be done with his meeting by now. But how can you step away when he’s still smiling at you as if he’s having the time of his life, when you felt drawn to him all evening, when having his eyes on you makes you feel truly seen? Yes, he isn’t exactly subtle in the way he flirts with you, but there is a kindness in his gaze you’ve never seen on another man before. And then he touches you, straightening the strap of your short, tight dress, and your whole body comes alive.

“You know smoking is bad for you, right?” is the only thing you can come up with, willing your voice to remain steady.

“I like things that are bad for me,” he replies.

It’s such a cheesy line, it makes you want to bury your face in your hands. But, god, does talking to him make you feel good.

“Ha!” He points at you. “That’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen all evening.

“Call me ‘sweet’ again and you might see some more,” you retort. All you want to do is to tell him you don’t mind his harmless flirting, that whatever this is between you is fun, but it comes out heavy with implications. Implications you can’t take back because you don’t want to.

He brushes your hair behind your ear and you think you might die. “You’re very brave.” It’s a statement. “I saw you walk to the pool earlier in –”

“I know,” you interrupt him. “I saw you watching me.”

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. “It made me want to kiss you.”

You freeze. There is nothing you can say that won’t end badly for you. “So you made me a drink instead?”

He plucks the cocktail stick out of your glass and holds it up to your mouth. You close your lips around the first cocktail cherry and pull it off slowly, your eyes fixed to his. It might just be the low lighting but you think his pupils dilate. He drops the stick back into the glass and takes a big swig of your drink, his eyes momentarily leaving yours. You do your best not to watch his throat as he swallows.

“You really are something,” he concludes, putting down the glass on the bar.

You feel lightheaded, as if you’d just made out with him for half an hour. “I’m also in a relationship.” The words are out before you can stop yourself. You didn’t mean to say them.

“I don’t give a damn.”

You giggle, actually giggle, like a schoolgirl with a crush. “You sound like the hero in one of those ancient black-and-white movies.”

“Or maybe I’m the villain.”

This time you do bury your face in your hands. “Oh, stop it.”

“No,” he simply says, and you get it. You want to kiss him too.

Instead, you glance at the small gold wrist watch on your arm. “It’s late. I should –”

He interrupts you. “Don’t –,” but you don’t let him finish.

“Thank you for the drink. And thank you for making me laugh. You made this whole thing bearable.”

You don’t know if you should shake his hand or kiss his cheek so you don’t do any of it. You pat his arm, once, trying not to notice how it feels against your palm, then walk toward the stairs, your heart breaking with each step. If you were single, you wouldn’t have hesitated to sleep with this man. If you weren’t Piers’ girlfriend, he would never have looked your way. It’s better to end it here.

The quietness of your room engulfs you, just like the soothing coolness of the pool earlier. As soon as you close the door behind you and lean against it, you can breathe. Yes, you can still hear the sounds of the party, but they’re muffled. You can finally hear yourself think again and you exhale shakily. You almost made the biggest mistake of your life. The adrenaline rush you got from it makes you snicker.

Piers isn’t entirely faithful. He attends parties with strippers, he looks at other women, you know all that. But it doesn’t mean anything because at the end of the day he comes home to you. What you just did … it goes beyond everything Piers has ever done, and you wouldn’t have been able to look at yourself in the mirror if you had spent one more minute in the presence of that handsome stranger. Even if your flirting made you happier than Piers has in months.

There’s a knock at your door and you jump. Expecting Piers, you open it without a second thought. “I’ll be right …,” you start but forget every word in the English language when you come face to face with the stranger.

“Hello,” he says, and that handsome smile is back on his face, even if he keeps a careful distance. “You vanished so quickly it made me wonder … did I do something wrong?”

“What?” you ask because it’s the only word you can remember.

“I’ll go back downstairs if you don’t want me here,” he goes on, “just say the word.”

They never come up the stairs. Never. Who does he think he is? “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just tired.” You try to close the door in his face, but he steps closer, bracing a hand against the wooden doorframe. “Excuse me,” you say insistently.

“Can I come in?”

Into your room? “Oh, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” you reject him. You laugh, but it sounds insincere. “You should go back downstairs.”

“Alright,” he agrees, “but you have to say it like you mean it.”

“Listen here,” you start in your best no-nonsense voice. He tightens his grip on the wood and you hear it creak, despite the noise downstairs. “I want you to …”

It’s no use. You don’t know who he is, you don’t even know his name, but you also know that if you don’t let yourself have this, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.

“You need to say the words, sweet –”

“I want you to kiss me.”

You both freeze. His mouth hangs open, still in the middle of forming the next word he wanted to say. You tense, well aware that you said something you can not take back.

The few seconds that pass feel like an eternity. Then he pushes himself past the doorframe into your room, into your personal space. You smell the heavy scent of cigar smoke on him, you smell leather and lavender and citrus. You see his smile that turns into something more determined the closer he gets to you. You notice the stubble on his cheek, the glint in his eyes, the small dark spot on the collar of his white shirt. You feel … you feel his body pressing against yours, his hand pressing against the small of your back, his breath on your face, and then everything is reduced to his lips on yours, your breaths mingling, his … his tongue coaxing you open, not gently but insistent, and you not hesitating to open yourself up for him.

It's as if you’re watching it all from above, you pushing him backward, him closing the door with a hard slam, the both of you pulling at each other while kissing and kissing and …

“Careful,” he chuckles when you bite down on his bottom lip. “You said kiss, not –”

“I don’t give a fuck what I said,” you interrupt him, pulling his shirt out of his pants.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says and grabs your wrist.

You groan. “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”

He pulls you in for another kiss. “I’m not. You’re just … We’re doing this on my terms or not at all.”

Something throbs deep within your core.

He tightens his hold on you. “I’ve had all evening to think about this. To picture all the things I want to do to you.”

“It’s not going to be just kissing then?” you ask, relishing the chuckle you draw out of him.

“I knew I wouldn’t leave here tonight without feeling your pretty little cunt clench around me.”

It sounds like a line straight out of a porn movie. You should laugh, tell him to take you seriously. But all you can do is whimper at the thought of him sitting in his chair downstairs, talking to one of Piers’ associates or even Piers himself while thinking about being buried deep inside of you. Every other man would send you fleeing. Not him though.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

“Does it matter? Once I’m done with you, you’ll have forgotten your own name.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “Those are some big words,” you point out.

He lets go of your wrist, then bunches the fabric of your dress up in his hand until he can reach below the hem, his broad, warm hand landing on your naked skin, his ring digging into your soft flesh. You gasp.

“Do you really think I’d disappoint you?”

“No,” you say too quickly, too rashly.

He grabs your dress again. “How about you take this off for me?”

“No,” you repeat, biting the inside of your cheek so you don’t laugh at the look of shock on his face. Then you turn around. “I can’t really open the zipper without some assistance.”

He runs both his hands over your naked shoulders and down to the middle of your back. You expect him to take his time, but he yanks the zipper down so quickly you think you hear fabric tear. You almost don’t have enough time to slip out of the thin shoulder straps before he falls to his knees behind you, pulling the dress with him. His hands are on your butt cheeks now, massaging, grabbing you as if he’s set on memorizing every detail. He slips his thumb under the hem of your panties, dips the tip into the wetness there.

You gasp at the same time as he whispers, “Knew it.”

You pull him away from you and turn around, well aware you’re completely naked except for your panties. “Well, it’s hardly surprising,” you start, your voice airy, but then it dies down completely at the sight of him kneeling in front of you looking up at you with so much heat in his gaze you’re getting burned. How did you get here?

You want him to tease you back, but he only pulls you close, his hands clasping your hips insistently, and kisses your belly, right above the hem of your panties. Then he kisses your thighs and your sides, and your belly button, and then he pulls down your panties and buries his face in your wetness with a relieved sigh. Your hands shoot forward and grab his curls, dig into them, desperate for purchase, as your head swims from the overstimulation. You would like to focus on the feeling of his hair between your fingers. You would like to focus on his tongue swirling around your clit. You would like to focus on the growl he makes when you run your nails over his scalp.

You think you’re laughing. You think you say, “Does that still count as kissing?”

“Yes,” he mumbles against the soft skin of your thighs. His curls are already a mess, his face is flushed, but when he glances up at you, his eyes are bright with determination.

“I think you have to show me that definition of kissing someday,” you go on, glancing up at the ceiling. You can’t look at him directly, it feels too intimate.

“That’s enough talking,” he decides and licks a broad stripe across your drenched folds.

You tighten your grip on his curls in response because your legs start to quiver. You hope he doesn’t notice, but his fingers dig into your thighs to steady you. The edges of his ring are cutting into you almost painfully – you want more of it. His hair wrapped around your fingers you pull him closer into you and he moans against you … actually moans. You push away those thoughts that make you compare him to Piers, how Piers would never moan if he was between your legs, how Piers never eats you out. This isn’t about him – it’s about you.

There’s something in the way that stranger rolls and flicks his tongue that tells you he won’t make you wait for an orgasm. You want to hold on longer because you can’t bear the thought of this being over already, but there is something in the way he devours you that pushes you toward the edge at a rapid speed. You don’t even hear the sounds of the party anymore, the laughter, the music; it’s just him and his deep sighs and moans.

You’re almost embarrassed by how fast you come. One second you’re appreciating the way his tongue flicks your clit, the next you can barely stay upright when your whole body releases months and months of built-up tension. You quiver in his grip and he holds you close, licking and licking until you can’t take it anymore. You think you mumble, “Fuckfuckfuck,” but there is no way to be sure. All you know is that you just had one of the best orgasms of your life.

You laugh as if the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders. What else is there to do? “So this is doing things on your terms?” you ask.

He sits back on his heels and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You think you might explode at that sight. “No, that was for your benefit. The rest is going to be for mine.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you glance over your shoulder at your bed that’s rumpled from you crying on it earlier. If he can make you feel like that with just his tongue, what will he be –

“No, sugar, not like that,” he tells you, immediately pulling your attention back to him.

Your throat is dry when you ask, “What then?”

He stands and cups your cheek, his hand pleasantly warm. You lean into the touch immediately. “Don’t be so impatient. Enjoy the moment for a while.”

“What moment …?” you start but you don’t get far. He claims your mouth in a searing kiss that makes you wish you had been paying more attention to what he was doing when he was eating you out. You kiss him back, slinging your arms around his neck, the soft fabric of his white shirt rubbing against your naked chest. He licks across your bottom lip until you open your mouth for him, and then he claims you like no one has before. You fear that if you start thinking about how you can taste yourself on him, you’ll go insane.

“You’re so easy to kiss,” he mumbles against your lips. You’re not quite sure how he means it, but your chest still expands at the compliment.

“And you’re very handsome,” you retort lamely.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about telling me all evening?”

“No,” you reply too slowly this time.

He kisses your temple, then brings his mouth right next to your ear. “I’ve been thinking about watching myself fuck you.”

He doesn’t give you time to process, takes you over to the vanity that stands opposite your bed, its mirror dull in the dim light of the room. Even when he places your hands on the table top, telling you to hold on, you still don’t think he’s serious. You look at yourself in the mirror, at the makeup smudges below your eyes, the birth mark on your throat that you hate, how your mouth hangs open in a way that looks so very unsexy. Behind you, that stranger you invited into your room, this man you know nothing about, is unbuttoning his expensive dress pants, his white shirt obscuring the view. What does he see in you that makes him want you like this?

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s holding himself now, but you can’t see his hand moving without turning around. And he didn’t tell you you’re allowed to look. Your palms begin to sweat against the wooden surface of the vanity, at the thought of him telling you what you are and aren’t allowed to do, at him praising you for doing well and punishing you if you don’t. You don’t recognize that side of yourself.

His eyes are open again and he searches for yours in the mirror. “I asked you a question.”

You swallow hard. “No, I don’t,” you say, fighting down a giggle. It’s nerves.

“I’d better show you then,” he concludes, and he pushes inside of you with one hard stroke, filling you faster than you can spread your legs.

You both take a moment to breathe. He adjusts himself, you try to get used to the angle, the feeling of fullness. You haven’t seen his hard cock, but you know he’s more than Piers, so much more the stretch is almost uncomfortable. The wood beneath your fingers starts to swim when your vision blurs and –

“No, none of that.” He grips your chin and lifts your head, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “I’ve also been thinking about you watching me fuck you.”

His hand looks so big holding your face like that, and when you swallow again, he can feel it against his fingers.

His own face is right there next to yours, his eyes firmly fixed to yours through the glass. “You’re a big girl. I’m sure you can take it.”

Before you can think of anything to say, he pulls out of you and thrusts back in in a tentative motion that is enough for your eyes to flutter shut in pleasure.

“No, no, no,” he whispers into your ear. “Keep them open.”

You do as you’re told and he rewards you with a sharp bite to the spot where your neck meets your shoulders. Your hips thrust back of their own accord, meeting his in a quick snap.

“You make such pretty sounds,” he mumbles against your skin.

You hadn’t even realized you were making any, too transfixed by watching him move behind you. Whenever your gaze wavers and flutters to your own face, embarrassment sends adrenaline shooting through your body. But he … watching his shoulders and arms tense and relax beneath his shirt that looks all too tight now, watching him meet your gaze, eyes full of lust … you don’t know why you would fuck anyone any other way than this.

He straightens his back, changing the angle slightly, and now you do hear yourself groan. He grabs your chin tighter and pushes two fingers into your mouth. “You know,” he says, and his hips snap with more force, faster, making the vanity rattle beneath your hands, “if you were mine, I’d let no man touch you. I would’ve broken his arm.”

It takes you a few seconds to figure out what he means; you’re too busy relishing the taste of his skin on your tongue. There must have been a man who touched you … when you were coming down the stairs … You can see it all clearly now. He would grab that man’s arm, calm and collected, twist it, make him shout in surprise … you can almost hear the bones snap.

“Oh, look at that,” he groans, and you do. You look at yourself in the mirror, unashamed, eyes wide. You watch how you eagerly suck and lick his fingers, watch it as if another person was doing it. You’re trembling in his grip … or is he making everything shake with his thrusts that are coming faster and faster now as he fucks you, taking what he needs? “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You almost don’t hear him, too transfixed by how depraved he’s making you feel. “You’d get off on that, a good man protecting you. Shame I’m not good, really.”

You don’t care. You’re done with those men who act politely, who treat you with care when they know Piers is around, but who talk about you taking it up the ass when your back is turned. You’d much rather have this, a man who isn’t scared to say these things to your face. Even if he thinks he isn’t all good, he still protected you.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and you whimper at the loss, watching how a thread of spit connecting his digits to your lips breaks. With his other hand, he suddenly grabs one of your breasts, squeezing your hard nipple with practiced ease, and you arch your back with a moan, exposing your throat to him. His fingers close around it, hard, restricting the airflow, his ring pressing against one of the most vulnerable spots of your body in a way that doesn’t leave any room for doubt – you’re doing this on his terms.

He tightens his grip on your throat until you start seeing stars, the loosens it. “I’m going to make you come now. I want you to watch yourself. I want you to see what you look like coming around my cock.”

If you could, you would nod, but he isn’t looking for your consent. He rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger one last time, then lowers his hand to find your clit. When he touches you, you make a sound like never before, one that’s feral and animalistic and can’t possibly be coming from you.

He shushes you, his breath tickling your neck. “You don’t want anyone to hear us.”

You don’t? You have no idea. You can’t form a single coherent thought as he pounds into you, making sure you’ll be able to feel him long after he’s done with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your voice is breathless after that scream, hoarse and raw. Your gaze flickers to his fingers curled tightly around your neck.

“Keep your eyes on yourself, baby girl,” he orders.

Baby girl.

That’s what does it. You watch your eyes widen and your mouth fall open as your body shakes first from his thrusts and then from wave after wave of pleasure. He was right. You love this. You love watching yourself come while he forces you to watch yourself, love to watch your orgasm play out across your face. He’s watching you too, licking his lips hungrily, never faltering. But you can see it in his eyes, the way he’s memorizing every detail of your orgasm.

“Well done,” he says once you’re done and moves your chin so he can kiss your lips.

Then he suddenly pushes you down so your chest connects with the table top. You grunt in surprise, then in pain when he rolls your head to the side so you can still somewhat glimpse his reflection above you.

“My turn,” he growls.

His teeth are digging into his bottom lip, his eyes are firmly fixed on his own reflection, and he holds you down with such a strong grip you can’t move, but also in a way that’s so casual it makes you feel like he’s using you. Your heart stutters with longing so intense at that thought that the feeling spreads to the rest of your body and becomes so intense he feels it in his own. At least you think that is what’s going on when he smiles down on you.

The position you’re in and the tenderness between your legs steadily turns from pleasurable to uncomfortable to simply too much. But he doesn’t finish. He keeps going and going, not as fast as before, seemingly transfixed by what you’re doing. You reach back for him and he grabs your wrist and pins it to the small of your back.

“Please,” you whimper, and it makes his intense gaze falter for just one second.

“Almost there, baby girl,” he replies, “you’re doing so well. Just keep taking it a little while longer.” You think you could bear anything if he just kept talking to you like that.

Then suddenly it’s over. There is one last thrust that pushes you onto the tips of your toes and then he stills. The only movement comes from his hips that are twitching as he empties himself inside of you. You don’t even dare to breathe, watching as his reflection slowly relaxes and he closes his eyes for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath.

Finally, he pulls out of you and you try to stand, but he pushes you back down again. “Stay. We’re not done yet.”

Your legs tremble in anticipation, but your mind is blank, unable to imagine what else he could have in store for you. You don’t feel anything at first, you just hear him moan, and then you realize he’s kneeling behind you, cleaning you up with his tongue, eagerly licking his own release off your skin. It makes you feel so lewd you forget about everything, even Piers. Especially when he doesn’t stop at your thighs but moves further and further up your legs until his tongue and nose are buried in your folds once more and he’s spreading you open with his big hands.

You can’t help it.

“Fuck, fu- I- I’m gonna –”

There’s no time for you to finish the warning before you’re coming a third time, your hips desperately twitching against the vanity. He licks you through it, catching every last drop you’re giving him on his tongue. You can’t tell for sure but you think he’s chuckling and for some reason the shame you feel turns you on even more.

When it’s all over, he peels you off the vanity and pulls you into his arms, brushing your hair out of your face that is sticky with sweat. “You sure are a greedy little thing,” he says before he kisses you tenderly.

You swallow a sob and give him a sigh instead.

“Half the people downstairs probably heard us.” There’s a big grin on his face at that thought.

“I don’t give a fuck,” you repeat your earlier sentiment, surprised to discover that it’s true.

“Someone wants to get caught,” he teases and kisses you again.

“What I want is for you to fuck me like that again.”

“Oh, baby girl.” You almost hate how he’s already figured out what hearing him call you that does to you. “There are a million more things I want to do with you. This was just a taste.”

You’re not sure if you can believe him, but you decide to indulge that fantasy. You put on your sweetest smile. “Can’t wait.”

He lets go of you and walks toward your door. “Why don’t you give me a call once you’re back in Manhattan.”

A red warning light switches on somewhere in your brain. “But I don’t even know your name.”

“Something tells me you’ll find out.” And with that, he’s gone.

[atiyasnake]

Batty ghosts Masterlist

I've been responding to some prompts and posts with little bits of writing and tbh sometimes I lose track of them in the chaos so here is a sort of 'masterlist' I guess of the different posts I've responded to. (make sure to give the OPs some love!!). List below

Clone at the grave AU Bats find lookalike of Jason (danny) at his grave.

Dinner is Served Alfred beings home a young man (danny) for dinner after seeing him protect someone on the street.

What Protects from the Shadows a response to tourettes dog of the fenton fam going to Gotham and thinking bats is a ghost. Danny decides to protect the bat. I made a fic on ao3.

Getting eggs at 2:52am Jason in civies comes across the meta? Bats has been annoyed about at a cornershop/bodega The kid is getting eggs and is spooky

Polite Overshadowing Jason gets overshadowed in a polite way by a fed up ghost king.

Beast boy smells Death beast boy follows a boy that smells like death (Danny) and who tries to shoot a thermos at him. What the kid says is only more confusing.

The Franken Core au a response to someone's prompt/au where the GIW messed with the core of a halfa and an eldritch horror was the result. And jazz runs away with EldritchThermos Danny.

Rude Interruptions a cult summons the ghost king when he was on a date. He is not amused.

Wrong ghost kid Sleep deprivations result in Danny supposedly scruffing Dani, who was threatening some ppl with a sword and calming him down. Except he def had the wrong kid.

Arkham Internship Jazz is the interning at Arkham and a unphased badass about it.

Danny's Arkham Vaca Danny portals into arkham and isn't allowed to leave, so he decides to take a break along with making some new changes in the asylum's structure

Ghostly Retribution Danny decides to employ some petty yet unsettling revenge against one Joker while in gotham.

Smash the plate Danny is so very confident that he is not Bruce Wayne's kid, but a dna test proves him wrong.

No biggie Danny is a chill af manner calms down a pit enraged red hood leaving confusion in his wake

Pop goes the lazarus creature Danny pops out of pools of extoplasm when too much damage happens. One time it happens to be a pool right in the middle of a ninja and bat fight. And apparently this pool of extoplasm is sentient and very angry.

Accidental Kidnapping bat kids take home someone they presumed to be Tim, no one realizes this until 3 days later

Uncle Connie  Jack was disowned or cut off his family that were in the ghost/spirit field and somehow is related to John Constantine. It’s a surprise to find out that your somehow nephew is the ghost king.

Roofhopping Fenton Fam moved to Gotham and Danny decides that roof hopping is the best thing to do with the stress of it, even if he’s doing his best to avoid certain bat and bird-themed vigilantes. 

Concussions and mistaken identities  P.2   P.3 Danny is dragged somewhere by Jack while concussed and ends up mistaking Bruce as his dad. Bruce mistakes him for tim.

Summoning an overwhelmed teenager danny is stressed to the max and being summoned to deal with a ghost problem he didn’t even know about is the last straw, cue crying. 

The Kid There is a kid that keeps fighting Joker like a rabid animal in Gotham. it’s always on sight. including in Arkham.

Clockwork's Chosen: Danny gives prophecies and answers questions he shouldn’t know the answer to. It’s a normal occurrence at Casper High, but after graduation, Gotham better prepare itself.

Accidental Crime Lord    Ao3

Feral clown senses activate Danny goes feral mode when a clown is near, even in the middle of a conversation. Sam and Tucker have a routine for when this happened, despite how everyone else is so so very confused (including vigilantes). 

Just a hole in the wall  Kon gets hit by a spell from Klarion and ends up punching an interdimensional hole to one ghost boi trynna sleep

Cadmus Clones Somehow Ellie and Danny were frozen for study by Cadmus and then found by the JL who think they are clones. 

Sleepy thermos kid Danny due to circumstances falls asleep in the worst/best times/locations. Including one point just on top of Red Hood after helping him out by wacking the enemies with his thermos. 

Skeleton Key Tired danny used the skeleton key and ended up at Wayne manor

Put a gun to my head Immortal Danny living in Gotham got caught up as a hostage and shot in front of the bat. but low and behold, he’s not just gonna let that pass

Reaper’s Dance Danny does an ancient ghosty dance to ease the lost/forgotten/dammed souls in Gotham after being taken by the Wayne’s after his family died

Powerpoint Intervention Danny was taken by the JL under the assumption of being a clone of Tim, and when he finds out it was because they thought he was a clone, he decides to hold an intervention consisting of a very long powerpoint presentation.

Star the Clown Danny actually ended up liking clowns when dealing with his feelings about the freakshow incident, so much that he absolutely hated the Joker who gave clowns a bad name. and what better way to make him pay then be a clown who interferes with his plans. 

You lied  P.2 Danny finds out the Waynes are the bat and feels betrayed because now it feels like a lie (or so he thinks)

What came after the King  Pariah Dark is still the Ghost King and can be summoned, but what is more concerning is the creature that follows. 

Ripped from the core  Danny was ripped from his core and in some small shadow eldritch form stuck in Gotham. Instead of trying his luck with the bats and birds, he decided to try it with a scaly guy underground. 

Hit da bricks  After years of captivity and essentially torture from the GIW Danny lets himself slip into a fake world to escape the pain, he wakes up in the body of R-13, a clone of the robins from Cadmus, and then makes his escape. Except it isn’t actually a dream but real.  (I made three parts so far in response to Omni’s initial response to the prompt. they named the au and actually have their own branch of the story that you should def checkout!!)

Danny created the Infinte Realms

Stolen core Vlad took away Danny's core leaving Danny half of who he is, feeling hollow. Certain ppl at thr wayne gala notice.

You dare to touch the stars? Danny has been captive of GIW but what makes him snap and finally break free is when they dare to bring in the Martian Manhunter.

Here some smaller ones

Museums kind of suck possible idea of Danny returning items to their rightful owners

Pissed teens of Amity the JL doesn't respond so the Fenton teens decide to contact one Rhas al Ghul

Is Hood food? Three ways that the hood is lowkey food trope for one very hungry halfa kid could go.

Sup batty-yo Danny just keeps popping up where bat is on patrol, effectively concerning the man by the life tidbits he drops amidst just gossip. 

A few of them I am def planning to write more and eventually post fics of on ao3. My user is Atiya_Blackcharm.

Anyways hope you enjoy 💚

P.2 masterlist

[khaleesiofalicante]

Just finished LBAF IV had to hurry and finish it before V comes out.

I really enjoyed Kincaids POV and I was glad you did it that way bc it had been anyone else’s of course we would all hate him and be team Lance over him but this way I am a little sympathetic (obviously still team lightwood-bane)

I love Arthur so much and he deserves his destiny and wishes to be fulfilled too! 🥺

I loved older Max and that he has lived without David for 720 years! 😭😭 can’t wait to see what happens there!

It was a wonderful story and yes so full of angst but soft part too. Although I do feel like David has been punished and hurt enough, I cried to much when they banned him from Idris. It’s someone else’s turn, ok?!!

When I read IALS I didn’t know Kincaid as much so I wasn’t as big as a fan with him and Arthur but after the epilogue he has definitely grown on me. They are beautiful together. Is it like a canon event that they are destined to be together but it never works out like IALS bc that would make me so sad!! 🥺

Can’t wait Dani!

I am so unnecessarily emotional about this. (partly because JUST finished working after a hectic day and this is the first arcaid i think)

Congratulations on finishing LBAF IV. You are a strong one :P

Writing the epilogue from Kincaid's pov was definitely strategic. I loved it so much that I decided to include it in LBAF V - and I kinda have to go because of the plot hehe.

Other Max angst will hit out from all sides. Beware.

But keep this arcaid snippet for now ily bye ✨

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve your love," Kincaid said softly.

"You don't have to do anything," Arthur told him. "Everyone deserves love."

"Even Knightstorms?" Kincaid couldn't help but ask.

"Everyone," Arthur smiled. "But we have to earn the love we deserve."

"How do I do that?" Kincaid asked in a whisper. "How do I deserve the love of Arthur Lightwood-Bane?"

Arthur's blue eyes shut softly as he wrapped his arms around Kincaid. "Promise me you won't ever hurt my brother."

[httpsserene]

Alrighty babes I have an idea how about series for man and Dani at the ranch the same way we got one with Charles and maxie for ur 2k special also congrats on ur everything proud of u

✧*̣̩⋆̩☽⋆゜thank you! but, let’s expand on this idea a little more— just to clarify we mean max/daniel x reader, a continuation of my ktober special, right? it’s been so long since i’ve read that i’m not sure what exactly i’d do for another part, beside the obvious and having it focused on danny this time around :p ✧*̣̩⋆̩☽⋆゜

[highlifeboat]

Max tells Dani about what happened. Daniela nods and pats her boyfriend on the back.

Strangely, after that she stops calling Max to deal with spiders. And Sarah's breath now smells funny sometimes :p

Pff Max is telling her about it, all distressed, and externally Daniela is supportive but internally she's like "Finally. Someone to kill the little monsters."

Like she loves Max, but she does not support the catch and release method of spiders. They have to be MURDERED.

[packerfansam-blog]

Possibility of Daenerys returning (Part 2)

Following up on another post I made recently, I wanted to update and say that Emilia (I’m streamlining here) that she would be sad if Dany wasn’t in the potential Jon series while promoting “Secret Invasion” in the Indian markets. Indicating, as she has before, that she actually would like to return in the role, which some people have seemed to think otherwise.

Wherever things may be in the creative process, the decision might be out of her hands. And even though the project seems to be kind of his proverbial baby, it might be out of Kit’s as well. I know the reports of how likely her return might be have varied wildly. And, in my humble personal and professional experience, that is not uncommon. Case in point, another franchise I follow closely is “Stranger Things”. Of which the head writers recently did a 180 about the cast situation for the upcoming season. It happens.

So, forgive me for being a bit repetitive. I just see so many people who were so understandably dismayed by the “Game of Thrones” conclusion who have wanted it to be addressed in some way. The Jon series may or may not happen, and Dany may or may not be in it. But I say again if it’s something you’d like to see happen, try to make sure the appropriate parties know it. General@hbo.com, the feedback form of the Max Help Center, messages of Facebook and Instagram, tweet at/tag them, and so on. Encourage your friends who feel the same way to follow suit.

And, petitions can be problematic in different ways, but there are at least a couple of low-profile ones on the subject out there, if you’re so interested. Links below:

https://www.change.org/p/have-emilia-clarke-appear-jon-snow-game-of-thrones-spin-off?source_location=topic_page

https://www.change.org/p/hbo-bring-daenerys-targaryen-back-from-the-dead-to-be-with-drogon

[sanini-panini]

wip word search tag game

tagged by @twigwing hehe

Rules: search for the words given by whomever tagged you within your wip(s) and post them for us to see! Then tag as many people as you want and give them five words to find in their works.

my wips are p much just the next three chapters of karai's chosen but this sounds fun so let's go!

tagged words: promise, texture, throat, hear, able

promise

two folks who shouldn't be awake have a chat (from 3.2.7)

“I’m–I’m not okay,” Haku said frantically. “I know that, and everything hurts, and I can barely breathe, and it’s taking every bit of focus I have left to even stay awake. I can barely think straight, but if I don’t stay awake–if I can’t put this timeline puzzle together–we might not ever see the others again, so I’m somehow managing to stay upright even though Max completely eviscerated my internal organs, because I can’t let them die like that–not after we promised Jinal we’d stay.” Haku was completely out of breath now, and as they gasped for air between broken sobs, they realized that Kai had, at some point, pulled them into a half hug of sorts. His embrace wasn’t tight enough to suffocate inner demons, like Jinal’s, and it wasn’t soft and warm like Ven’s. It was gentle, loose enough for Haku to shake off if they wished–but firm enough to keep Haku grounded if they accepted the invitation. 

texture

nothing for this one

throat

ahahaha cw descriptions of drowning and car accidents (from 3.2.6)

Rae’s voice caught in xyr throat. It shouldn’t have been hard to talk about—it was so long ago—but Rae’s chest still hurt at the memory, almost like his lungs were filled with water once again.  It had been so sudden. There had been that single calm second when the car had been suspended in the air, free from the restraints of physics–and then the car had slammed into the water, and Rae’s seatbelt had squeezed all of the air and sense out of him. The impact had sent Rae’s mom flying into the dashboard, and she was dead before Rae had even managed to extricate himself from his seatbelt. Rae had wasted another minute on the doors and windows, but as the hopelessness set in, Rae had turned instead to his father, as if to ask what to do next. His dad had given him one last look—a mix of regret, pain, horror—and then he, too, was gone, leaving Rae to wait for the specter of certain death.

hear

a shouting match that probably needed to happen (from 3.3.1)

“All right, let’s think back, then,” Ilia cut in. “When The Necromancer tried to kidnap you, Auster could have just warned you, and you would have been able to get out of the way with your super speed, but that thought never even crossed Auster’s mind. He took the fall for you so readily despite the clear alternative–and surely even you know what that means. It means that Auster didn’t need a reason to jump into hell.”  “Stop,” Joshua said quietly, quivering with rage.  “No!” Ilia said hotly. “I will not stop, because you need to hear this, and no one else is willing to tell you. He’ll do it again, Joshua! He’ll jump in front of a train for you as many times as it takes, even if you’re not standing on the damn tracks! But at least the next time Auster decides to take a bullet for you, he’ll have some sort of shield, and the next time he gets kidnapped, I’ll know where he is, and I’ll be able to help him.”

able

a conversation that was not originally in my plans (from 3.2.7)

“Not what? Twisted?” Dani let out a mirthless laugh. “Let’s start with your first point, then. You said I was unnaturally calm when Peter took his little death dive—but there was a reason for that. Yesterday, in the infirmary, when Peter and I talked, I realized that he’s not selfish, and he’s not reckless without a cause. He’s just goal-oriented. The mustard, the jokes, the swimsuit, the chaos—it’s all a game of misdirection to help him get what he wants and to keep the rest of us out of his way, because until we accept the harsh reality we’re in? We’re just liabilities to him.” “That’s—“ “Fucked. Exactly.” Dani’s gaze fell to her hands. “And I’m probably a little messed up for being able to understand that. When Peter jumped into the ocean and then cut off his only line of communication with us—when Karyme couldn’t see him anymore and Ilia couldn’t sense him—I wasn’t even worried. Mad, maybe, but not worried, because I knew instantly that he wouldn’t have taken such a risk without a plan, and if any of us followed him, we’d just be fucking up his plan. So I forced myself to wait for 20 miserable minutes, even though we couldn’t tell if Peter was dead or alive.”

i know sharing writing can be difficult so if i don't tag you it's mostly bc i don't want to pressure you. but if you want to do this and i do not tag you please do it i would love to see what you have written

that said. @tenuntilfightcall @zystarsun no pressure but i feel no remorse about plaguing you two.

words: court, bird, dark, space, stroke

[weltato]

Ty for the tag Marvel!! <3

First fictional crush?

Hmm, probably Gabe from Dani's Castle. He was always my favourite <3

First colour I think of:

Purple, always.

Emotionally scarring fanfic:

I...don't think I have one? There are several memorable ones, but I don't think I've read one that made me react viscerally...well, there was one that made me cry for a good five minutes, but I don't remember plot at all. Like, I remember there was a character who offed themself and all the other characters were super distraught about it, but don't ask me anything else bc I cannot for the life of me remember. Read it years ago.

You're coming to my house for dinner?

Ooh, ok, uhh...I'd probably nick the mac & cheese recipe off my mum, would ask you about your favourite meat (or if you're vegetarian, fave replacement), add some potatoes and veg (y'know how at Christmas you'll have carrots and parsnips done in a certain way? That's what I'd do. I'd do roasties as well bc they are the bEST-) and then bake a cake for after. My best received cake was a lemon and lime sponge with white chocolate on the top :p

Lions or kangaroos?

Kangaroos. They're bouncy kickboxers and the pouch sounds cosy.

Fictional villain?

Oh gee, now that's tough. I can only think of two options: Lucius Malfoy (bc the family dynamic of the Malfoys is interesting) or Max Jägerman. It's not that I really really really like Max, but he's the only "villain" that I can think of that has really glaringly obvious issues (e.g. his dad, the way he treats Grace (both in her fantasies and out of them), the fact that he isn't even on good terms with his "friends", etc.)

What accompanies my Burn Book picture?

Sci-fi nerd, bookworm, will NOT shut up about musicals. Total loner. (idrk what would be in the Burn Book, sorry)

How many days would I last in the universe of my favourite fandom?

Let's see: I have many. If I was in Star Trek, I like to think I'd last a good while, depends on what era. If it's any of the wars, I'd be either dead in 10 hours, just barely scrape through, or miss the whole thing. If I was in Hatchetfield then I'd have succumbed to Pokey's apocalypse immediately, and if I was in Red Dwarf then I'd probably be coasting along with The Boys just fine. They're a fun group.

Have I heard of Mischief Theatre?

They're the Goes Wrong Show people, right? I've seen The Play That Goes Wrong live and it was INCREDIBLE!! My best friend and his grandma came to see it too and none of us could stop laughing the entire time. 100/10. If it came back to my city I'd definitely go and watch it again.

Do I feel sorry for Medusa?

I doooo :((

Which song is my OTP?

I have many OTPs and tbh it depends on the song and if I feel like the vibes would fit a certain pairing. Here's an example though: listen to The School Song from Matilda and tell me that isn't Crowley right there. You can't, can you? ;)

Which song makes me disassociate and daydream the fastest?

Again, depends on the song, but also on my mood. Pretty much any song can get me into my head. Recently it's been both 'Poison' from Hazbin Hotel and 'Jester (Pomni's Song)' by Black Gryph0n, Baasik and Lizzie Freeman (Pomni's VA!) They're so good!!

Moots! No pressure tags! <3 @lilacthebooklover @jewishruthfleming @androgynous-sack-of-flesh-3 @jklovesfandoms @queermarzipan @mrtobenamedlater @the-nefarious-vampire

My own get to know you game:

Who was your first fictional crush?:

What’s the first colour you think of when I tell you to think of a colour?:

Which fanfiction emotionally scarred you and still makes you shudder to this day?:

I’m coming to your house for dinner, non-negotiable, what are you making me?:

Do you prefer lions or kangaroos?:

Which fictional villain do you brush past the glaringly obvious issues for because you really like them?:

What would accompany your picture in the Burn Book in Mean Girls?:

How many days would you last in the universe of your favourite fandom?:

Have you heard of Mischief Theatre?:

Do you feel sorry for Medusa?:

Which song makes you think of your OTP?:

Which song makes you disassociate and daydream the fastest?:

Tags: @weltato, @snarky-wallflower, @feathertru, @barclaysangel, @fanficwriter284, @silvershewolf247, @shadowbrightshine, @luxury-nightmare and anyone else who wants to have a go, feel free!

[mortie-sch]

Kinda knew Kelly and Max will go official in Jan 1, because she did the same with Dany.

[cryptic-stimz]

welcome to my stimboard kin blog !!

about the mod:

hey, i'm mod raven! my pronouns are he/him, i'm 16 and i'm biromantic, asexual and transgender. i have depression, social anxiety, generalized anxiety, paranoia, add and insomnia, so i'm really sorry if i'm not always super active-

my favorite stims are crystals, dice, knives, soap cutting, pokemon cards and slime stims !!

you can find more bellow the cut~

rules:

-please be patient

-i have the right to deny any request

-read everything before requesting, please!

-do not repost/claim my stimboards as yours

-please only send one request per ask. feel free, however, to send as many individual requests as you want/need, just don't spam/send the same request over and over again!

-don't send any requests if they're closed! /gen /nm

-respect my blacklist and dni, please

-i won't do outside sources, sorry!

before you request:

-please tell me the colours/theme and which stims you would like me to include.

-if there are any things you specifically don't want to be included (for example hands, knives, etc.), please tell me so as well.

sources i'll do:

-danganronpa

-death note

-fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood

-ghost eyes

-hooky

-i'm the grim reaper

-it (2017)

-lalin's curse

-lumine (webtoon)

-my hero academia

-omori

-otherkin/therian

-pjo, hoo, toa (rick riordan's book series)

-pokémon

-she-ra

-stranger things

-studio ghibli

-the promised neverland

-tokyo ghoul

-vocaloid

-voltron: legendary defender

dni if you are/support:

-anti lgbtq+/exclusionists

-anti neopronouns

-map/nom*p (a)/pear/p*do (e)/etc

-factkin

-anti-kin

-t*rf (e)/r*dfem (a)/sw*rf (e)

-ab*se (u), inc*st (e), ped*phillia (o), etc

-r*cist (a)

-s*xist (e)

-transm*d (e)/tr*sc*m (u, u)

-super straight/super gay/etc

-trump supporter

-pro-shipper/anti-anti

-yandere

-chihiro fujisaki gender discourse (i'll be using they/them!)

-discourse in general

-kink/nsfw main blog

-cg/l, cg/lre

-any other basic dni criteria i might've missed

(i'm censoring some of the words so they don't show up in tags or something-))

whitelist:

~danganronpa: (characters) kokichi ouma, korekiyo shinguji, maki harukawa, rantaro amami, shuichi saihara, nagito komaeda, chihiro fujisaki (ships) saiouma

~death note: (characters) l lawliet, light yagami, mello, near (ships) lawlight, meronia

~fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood: (characters) edward elric, alphonse elric, ling yao, lan fan, mei chang, envy (ships) edling, almei, lan fan x winry

~ghost eyes: (characters) tobias schneien, mattias schneien, emilio murkmere, rudolph richardson, francis delacruz, dwayne londi, luther schneien, simon louis (ships) tobias x emilio, rudy x carmelo, dwayne x francis

~hooky: (characters) damien wytte, dorian wytte, dani wytte, william, monica, nico, mark, carlo (ships) damien x william, dani x nico, dorian x monica

~i'm the grim reaper: (characters) brook, scarlet, chase

~it (2017): (characters) richie tozier, eddie kaspbrak, beverly marsh, georgie denbrough (ships) reddie

~lalin's curse: (characters) david, felix, cody, (ships) david x cody

~lumine: (characters) kody, lumine, calla (ships) kody x lumine

~my hero academia: (characters) tsuyu asui, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima, kyoka jirou, shoto todoroki, izuku midoriya, tamaki amajiki, hitoshi shinso, eraser head, hawks, tomura shigaraki, dabi, eri, kota izumi (ships) tododeku, kiribaku, erasermic, kamishin, tsuchako

~omori: (characters) sunny/omori, basil, mari, hero, kel, aubrey (ships) sunnflower (basil x sunny), picnic basket (hero x mari), baseball bat (kel x aubrey)

~pjo, hoo, toa: (characters) percy jackson, nico di angelo, will solace, hazel levesque, leo valdez, meg mccaffrey, grover underwood, thalia grace (ships) solangelo, percabeth, frazel, caleo, theyna

~pokémon: (characters) ash ketchum, gladion, lillie, drew, max, hau, allister, mallow, lana, pikachu (ships) ash x gladion

~she-ra: (characters) double trouble, catra, adora, glimmer, bow, lonnie, kyle (ships) catradora, glimbow, repkylonnie (kyle x lonnie x rogelio)

~stranger things: (characters) eleven, max mayfield, mike wheeler, will byers, dustin henderson, kali prasad, robin buckley, steve harrington (ships) byler, harringrove, elmax, mileven

~studio ghibli: haku, chihiro ogino, satsuki kusakabe, mei kusakabe

~the promised neverland: (characters) norman, ray, emma, gillian, lucas, mister/yuugo (ships) norray, yuucas, gildemma

~tokyo ghoul: (characters) ken kaneki, ayato kirishima, touka kirishima, hide nagachika, juuzou suzuya, hinami fueguchi, uta, kuki urie (ships) ayakane, touken, mutsurie, uta x yomo

aesthetics:

-adventurecore

-arcadecore

-cottagecore

-cryptidcore

-fairycore

-gremlincore (don't use the term g*bl*ncore (o, i) on my blog, please, as that term is considered ant*sem*t*c (i, i, i))

-kidcore

-lovecore

-starcore

-witchcore/witchy aesthetic

blacklist:

~danganronpa: (characters) korekiyo shinguji's sister, haiji towa, hifumi yamada, teruteru hanamura (ships) kokichi ouma x girls, nagito komaeda x girls, tenko chabashira x boys, saimatsu, oumeno

~death note: yagamane

~fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood: (characters) father (ships) edroy

~ghost eyes: lucas schneien, mr. edburt, bennet issac

~hooky: (characters) hans wytte, angela wytte, hilde wytte, will's father (ships) mark x dani

~it (2017): pennywise, oscar bowers, alvin marsh

~my hero academia: (characters) minoru mineta, endeavor, overhaul, all for one (ships) bakudeku, kacchako, kirimina, todomomo, kamijirou, izuocha, eijirou kirishima x girls, shota aizawa x women, shota aizawa x ms. joke, eri x anyone

~omori: something

~pjo, hoo, toa: (characters) octavian, nero (ships) lukabeth, perachel, perlypso, romantic meg x apollo

~stranger things: (characters) martin brenner, lonnie byers (ships) stancy, will byers x girls, robin buckley x boys

aesthetics:

-yanderecore

-traumacore

-medicalcore

-religion-based aesthetics (witchy aesthetic is okay, so are holiday-based ones like christmas or halloween {i'll only do holidays when it's close to the date they're happening, though - like,, i won't do samhain at easter, you know?}, but christcore isn't)

other: spiders, blood, corpses

★ ★ ★

may i have a promo, please? thank you!

@electro-kins @primrose-rondo @catte-kins @teabookedits @fairyhimiko @tricky-kins @twisted-lies @lou-edits @cassahina @scftkitti @kinafe @allys-edit-cafe @kin-of-the-sheep @the-local-manga-library + anyone else

feel free to ignore and/or if you don't wanna be tagged, tell me and i'll untag you !!

[toofarovertherainbow]

I was searching the 'Kelly Piquet' tag today as my groupchat loves her and I don't really vibe with her because of some actions of her that I think are really problematic. I then found a post of yours about her being as bad as him and, I'm sorry, but I need to vent: as I was checking Max following list to see if he followed Charles (...) I noticed Penelope has an IG and she follows Max, but not her own DAD. I HATE how Kelly is always portraying them 3 as family when Daniil IS ALIVE. Like, why??

ik it's the weirdest shit in the world, and i am not going to judge their family situation bc ik what it's like when u have separated parents, but when she took P to brazil in the middle of covid for nine months so dany couldn't see her... when brazil was a covid hotspot... that was weird. and the whole 'unsportsmanlike conduct' thing yesterday is so funny girl your family were involved in crashgate and ur dad punched a driver once like?? check urself babe?? anyway. she can do what she wants but it doesnt take away from the fact shes dating an ableist racist lmao

[khaleesiofalicante]

BEST COMING OUT SCENE EVER

I cannot with Lexi she’s so FCKN CHAOTIC. Also LEXI AND LIV- I SHIP IT 100%. Emma and Clary’s kids???? TOP TIER

All these kids obsession with Magnus is an absolute delight. Kids knows what’s up

ALEXANDRA AND ALEXANDER CONVO - beautiful. (The man, the legend, the myth!! Hell that’s my baby right there)

Homophobia is a sin- RAZIEL SAID SO

Jace and Clary are the sweetest but god the conversation with Jace. the best character development wow this boy. I’m so proud of Jace. he deserves all the happiness in the world. celery, chouchou and lettuce are lucky as hell.

but Dani- the way all these kids are traumatised just because of being kids of tmi gang. like I thought the tmi gang had pressure on them but damn lbaf kids have it worse. (I mean they have supportive parents so let’s call it even) but Selena and Lexi have been having these dreams since they were babies pls someone help them. MAGNUS YOU KNOW SOMETIMES FISHY BABE PLS TELL SOMEONE. the lbaf gang at takis was so cute but also so sad because of the rumours thing. Poor baby Rafael I’m still not over what happened to him- “he had a certain sadness to him” COULD’VE JUST SHOT ME BRO. I want Rafe to be happy and all cuddly with Magnus again okay. I think Max is the least traumatised of them all- till now. He’s had a relatively normal childhood. He’s a chaotic fucker and I love him. Pls Blue you do not need your own scandal cause we know it’s gonna be hella angsty.

Tmi gang having grown up seeing fucked up relationships bw their parents and being scared of love/ all emotions less V/S LBAF coming from a completely opposite upbringing- being even more scared of love is a MOOD. humans are the absolute worst lmaoo

Gigi and Lexi as parabatai are the cutest. “Strength”. Also Selena and Rafe’s bond is so cute. David and Max’s fRieNdShiP *coughs* is also nice.

And lastly,

“To love is a privilege and to be loved is a blessing.”

Your observations and analysis has me so emo bro. It's beautiful and so good. I cri.

Thank you so much. I am sooo glad you are loving this.

Here is a meme about Lexi :P

[fukoronoko]

A playlist for the jims 😌✨

Cloud 9 (beach bunny) Salem @ Ana

Ashes (stellar) Luci

Mad hatter (Melanie Martinez) the server

Stand by you (Rachel Platten) Fuko

I do adore (Mindy Gledhill) Salem and Ana (THEY ARE CUTE OK?!)

Im not pretty (JESSIA) Dakota and Fuko

Drugs and Candy (All time low) again Salem and Ana they are my new favorite ship

Tue love (p!ink) Ana and Nucki (but in a switch sister way)

Forget me too (Mashine gun Kelly) Dakota (I am SO sorry)

I like it (Cardi B) idk why but Dakota, Dani or Mars

Tantrum (Ashnikko) The switch sisters

Feeling are fatal (mxmtoon) Dakota

E-girls are ruining my life (CORPSE) Kink bc...you know why

3 musketeers (ppcocaine) the switch sisters

Feel better (Penelope Scott) Dakota

Nightmare (Halsey) Mars (idk I got Mars vibes)

Body (Meghan thee stallion) Jayden

BO$$ (Fifth harmony) the server

Nice girl (Ashnikko) Mars, Dani, Ana or Dakota

Hey stupid, I love you (JP Saxe) Fuko @ Luci

Call me queen (citizen queen) Fuko

Short Kings anthem (Bleackbear) Nucki and Salem but without the swearing

Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off (Panic! at the disco) the Server

Checkmate (Conan gray) Dakota

Show & Tell (Melanie Martinez) Most of the server

Class fight (Melanie Martinez) Salem and Luci & Fuko as the parents

Run the world (Beyoncé) the server

Tell me you love me (Demi lovato) idk why but I’m getting cloud vibes

Candy (doja cat) nucki @ Salem about Ana

Enemies (Post Malone) Nucki

3:15 (Bazzi) Ana

Cult of Dionysus (the Orion experience) the server

Monster (Adventure time) Luci and Fuko

Falling for u (Peachy!) Fuko

Share your address (Ben Platt) Nucki and Ana @ cloud

Be Someone to someone (BANNERS) Lefflette

Bubblegum bitch (Marina and the diamonds) Dakota and Kink

Montreal (Penelope Scott) grey

Blueberry eyes (MAX) Fuko

Sweet child o‘ mine (jasmine thompson) Fuko @ grey and Salem

Haha I feel asleep (Egg) the server

I will be adding to this 🌸

@vanilla-beanzz @greymoon @bambii-brambles @nuttbutter @lcsbianist @huto @leeflette @alyssajimrebel @iluvmilkchoco @simpforroosterhead + the other Jims I’m sorry I’m stupid