#this is an angle i've been considering for a while i was even planning an animatic on the topic

[claitea]

i realized that out of the Many pokemon n uses across the two games, none of them are friendship evos. like you'd Think that'd be an easy thing to do with him because putting friendship evos on an antagonist's team to show they're actually nice aside from whatever villainy they're doing is an established thing in pokemon, and it would contrast with ghetsis's frustration hydreigon nicely

but really, it makes sense n wouldn't have any because friendship levels take time to build up. n would ask for help once, and then let the pokemon go, believing it was best for them. but as he learned, pokemon like being with humans. he released them so quickly none of his pokemon would ever have gotten the chance to really connect with him.

and isnt that ironic? the man who connects with pokemon on a deeper level than anyone else probably had less close pokemon friends at the time of bw1 than your average trainer. i'd guess it was just his zoroark at the time. do you think any of those pokemon were upset with him after being released so quickly? i'm sure pokemon are aware being captured can be a lifelong commitment, so being caught and released within an hour or two might not exactly sit well. like sure he probably told them what his intentions were but do you think any of them wished this strange new friend had stuck around a little longer?

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Session One; Flyin' Solo - L.JH

🎙Who; Lee Jihoon (Seventeen) x reader 🎙What; smut, friends to fuckers, producer/idol Jihoon 🎙Wordcount; 2.8k 🎙Warnings; profanity, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation(m), praise kink, jihoon is a messy boy, i think that's it, let me know if I've missed anything though

Summary; "The last thing you expect when you arrive at your friend's studio to check on him is to find him with a badly concealed erection. And clearly, the right thing to do here is to encourage him to finish what he started under your watchful eye. You know, in case he needs anything."

Minors do NOT interact, which means liking/reblogging/commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist- 🎙 In The Studio Masterlist 🎙

A/N- This is part one of a series of Jihoon smut that takes place in his studio. I have no idea how many parts there will be in total, I only have 4(including this one) planned currently, but it's kind of an open-ended series anyway. No plot, just cock <3

Honestly, it's not unusual for Jihoon to ignore your messages and leave you on read. It frustrated you to no end at the start of your friendship but these days you know it's his way of telling you that he's seen your message and is aware but just doesn't have the time to respond right now. He never fails to respond later though when he has the chance and often with an apology for not responding faster; which can come in the form of literally verbally apologising or simply offering to pay for dinner. So these days, you don't really mind the lack of response and honestly always assume he'll reply in a few hours.

However, what you do mind is when it's been multiple days of him leaving messages on read. It's not that you take it as a personal attack, because you know he values your friendship too much for that. But you do know it means that Lee Jihoon is being a damn idiot and not taking care of himself yet again.

Which brings us to you once again turning up unannounced at his studio ready to physically drag his ass out to get some fresh air and food. Well, drag is an exaggeration because that muscle-ridden fool is too strong for you to move, and you know that if he truly didn't want you to get your way he could easily overpower you. Yet he never does and always lets you yank him out of his studio, once he's saved his work of course, because he knows you only have his best interests in mind.

You've already pressed the buzzer once, and usually that's enough to have Jihoon answering the door yet this time he doesn't. Perhaps he's fallen asleep, but if that's so, you think it's even more reason to get him out of there and tuck him up in his own comfortable bed. Just as you press the buzzer again, the door creaks open and Jihoon's slightly wide eyes peek out. Clearly, he had not been sleeping, he's far too alert.

"Oh, hi," He mutters and licks his lips while glancing over his shoulder quickly before looking back at you. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"It's been days, you gremlin, come out of your cave." You retort, crossing your arms over your chest and giving him a firm look. The same look you always give him when he's being careless with his health like this.

Jihoon pulls a face, considering and tucks his features behind the door out of view for a second while still holding it in the barely open position, before he sighs and steps back while pulling the door open and not making eye contact with you. "Just let me save."

You hum in agreement and step into the studio after removing your shoes on the mat beside his own, then move over to sit on the couch in wait. Jihoon shuts the door and then shuffles over to sit at his desk. You're so used to him by now that you immediately know something is up, even if you can't tell what it is. He's moving so awkwardly and angled with his back to you. The tense line of his shoulders loosens a little once he's in his seat and tucked under his desk but he still isn't his usual self. "Ji?" You worry. He hums. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yep, fine, I'm fine." He replies, nodding quickly.

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Don't you fucking dare. You know I hate it when people lie to me." You warn, frowning at him. He knows that very well and always backs you up when you're annoyed at someone else lying to you. "Tell me the truth."

"Just," He sighs and waves a hand without looking at you. "Give me a minute, I'll be fine in a minute."

"You can't always brush things aside, Jihoon, it's not healthy." He mutters something under his breath. "What?"

"Nothing, don't worry, just talking to myself."

You stare at the back of his head for a minute. He perhaps looks even more tense now that you've called him out. "Face me." He freezes.

"What?"

"Turn your ass around and face me, Lee Jihoon." You demand.

Jihoon swears under his breath at the use of his full name, knowing that you're really not fucking around. Unless he wants to truly piss you off, he has no choice but to listen. He's made the mistake again of ignoring you before and seen your mutual friends do it too, it never ends well.

"Fine, fuck," He grumbles and presses save before slowly, reluctantly pushing his chair out from under the desk to allow him to gradually spin to face you. His face is a wonderful shade of embarrassed pink as he keeps his head turned away so that he doesn't have to see your reaction.

It takes you less than a fraction of a split second to notice the problem. It's pretty fucking prominent in his dark grey shorts, after all. Honestly, impressively prominent. "Huh," You comment both in surprise that you seem to have interrupted your friend in the midst of taking care of himself, and the size of the issue at hand. Or well, no longer being at hand is the real issue here if you want to be technical about it.

"Don't," He begs in a mutter.

"Don't what? I'm not doing anything! Though clearly, you were." You smirk at him, though he's still not looking at you. He sighs and leans his face onto his left palm where his elbow is resting on his armrest at his side. His blush is even darker now.

"Just shut up, please,"

"No,"

"You're such a fucking brat,"

"Mm, yep." You confirm shamelessly. Jihoon lifts his head just enough to peer over at you intrigued. In this setting, in this context, your agreement sounds more like an admittance to bedroom habits and he can't help but wonder if that's true or not. "Well, I came here to check on you, make sure you're taking care of yourself and I clearly interrupted that." He makes a frustrated sound at your teasing and opens his mouth to respond while straightening a little, less embarrassed now. But your words cut him off. "So don't let me stop you, Jihoonie."

Jihoon's mouth closes slowly, then opens again before he licks his suddenly dry lips and manages to get a response out, oh so eloquently. "What?"

"I said, don't let me stop you."

"Yeah, I heard that."

"Then what's the problem?" You motion to his crotch in a manner that very much looks like you're inviting him to his own body. You are. "Go on."

"With you there?" He mumbles, very aware that his cock is coming back to life at the thought and hoping you don't notice.

You do and smirk as your eyes watch the already impressive bulge against his thigh swell. "I fucking knew you like being watched." You grin at him teasingly and cross your arms over your chest cockily.

"And you like watching."

"Yep so, gonna give us what we both want?" You goad, raising an eyebrow at him and slouching into a more comfortable position. Really settling in for the show.

"Fuck," He gives in with a strong exhale and reaches down to yank the tie of his shorts open so that the waistband will loosen enough to allow him to reach inside. For a split second, he hesitates, his right hand gently wrapped around his hard length, but then he looks at you and sees that you're already intently staring at his crotch, so he throws all caution to the wind and tugs his cock out.

"Huh," You repeat your earlier sound of a comment at the sight of his exposed erection. It's definitely bigger than you had expected, thicker too and surprisingly pretty for a cock. You kind of want to go over and offer a hand, and by hand you mean your mouth, but this isn't about you, it's about Jihoon so you stay in place.

"Don't say something weird." He requests, sounding like he's seconds from scolding you.

"Weird? Me? Never," You snigger. "I was just thinking you're bigger than I expected, is all."

"Than expected?" He repeats with interest lacing his words as his hand starts to slowly stroke his length, fingers just about overlapping around the girth. It's impressive, you'll admit.

"Yeah,"

"That sounds like you've thought about my cock,"

"What if I have?" He hisses a little and tightens his grip.

"You have?" You hum shamelessly. Jihoon's head tips back fractionally at the thought of you imagining him. He doesn't even know what you imagined exactly; if it was genuinely a sexual thought of the two of you or just a curiosity about what he's hiding under his clothes. All he needs to know is you thought of him in some state of undress and he's speeding up his actions as the arousal in his veins burns brighter.

"I may have been wrong about your size but I was right about something."

It takes Jihoon a second to react, he's so focused on the pleasure rapidly building in his body. He had been so close to cumming before you interrupted that he knows it won't take long at all. Especially not with your intense gaze glued to him, he can feel it and knows you haven't looked away once even if his eyes are currently closed. You were on the money about him, he really is a giant fucking exhibitionist so having you watching him is sending him hurtling towards his orgasm at a speed that would be embarrassing if he wasn't so fucking horny. Jihoon rolls his head as he opens his eyes to look at you. "About - shit- what?" He wonders, swallowing at the look in your eyes as you drag them up his body to meet his hooded gaze.

"How fucking pretty you'd look." A low moan leaves Jihoon's parted lips as his eyes roll a little. "Oh, you like being praised, pretty boy?"

"Fuck off,"

"Really? Want me to leave and let you finish this all alone with no one to watch and tell you how gorgeous you look right now?"

"Shit," His face scrunches a little in concentration, eyes tightly closed and hand picking up enough speed that he's letting out consistent little grunts and moans of pleasure.

"Well?" You tease, watching as more precum dribbles out of his cock for his hand to immediately swipe over his length and ease the glide.

"N-no, fuck, stay, tell me." He insists, tone taking on a desperate edge. "Tell-tell me. Please. Fuck, 'm so close, baby,"

"Good, I want to see you cum, Jihoonie, I bet you're going to look so fucking beautiful. You already do. Look so good touching yourself like this, Ji, so fucking pretty. Wish I could frame you; pin you up on the wall to look at whenever I want." You're honestly not paying much attention to what you're saying, you're too enthralled by the rolling of his hips into his fist. It's desperate, all wet with audible squelches of his precum under his palm. And it's perhaps one of the hottest things you've seen in person. He's not even doing anything particularly special, just jerking himself off in front of you but he truly looks breathtaking and so desperate to cum it's driving you kind of insane. "Being so good for me, aren't you? Letting me see you all pretty like this. Going to cum, yeah? Show me how pretty you look?"

Jihoon does not have the ability to react other than nodding his head quickly, mouth hanging open. And then he's cumming, eyes rolling back as his back arches away from the chair and filthy moans spilling from his lips. You watch almost hypnotised as he cums all over his thighs and the seat between his spread legs. There's a surprising amount of it and at the back of your mind you wonder if he has a spare pair of shorts or sweatpants hanging around, but at the forefront, all you can wonder is what his cum tastes like.

"Good boy," You mutter out when his hand stops shakily milking his length and prolonging his pleasure. Jihoon's lips twitch up a little at the praise in an automatic response but he's too busy floating on cloud nine while trying to suck some oxygen into his heaving lungs to respond.

For a moment, you just watch Jihoon as he slumps in his seat absolutely sated and relaxed, hand still around his cock but just holding it now pointlessly. And then you get up and grab the packet of wipes from the desk. You're not sure what the boundaries are here, so even though you'd ordinarily clean up your partner, you just tap the packet against his left shoulder until he reaches up and takes one from the opening.

"Thanks," He murmurs and slowly opens his eyes while tilting his head down to look down at his crotch. "Shit." He pulls a face.

"Messy boy, huh?"

"Shut up." He grabs more wipes from the packet and gets to work doing his best to clean up.

"Do you have spare shorts?"

"Mm, yeah," He motions over to a cupboard so you go inside and find a stack of clothing there. "Actually, can you grab sweats instead?" You hum and grab a pair of sweatpants before returning to him.

Patiently, you stand there and watch as Jihoon finishes cleaning up to the best of his abilities then removes his shorts and boxers. "Oh, I didn't grab boxers," You point out.

"Don't have any there anyway." He shrugs and takes the sweatpants from you to pull up over his legs and ass and tie the string together to keep them on his hips. You just stare at him dumbly. Something about the thought of Jihoon not wearing underwear under those very worn sweatpants makes your brain short-circuit a little. "You alright?" He muses when he looks up and notices you staring down at his bottom half.

"No,"

"No?" He laughs and picks up his clothes from the floor to carefully ball up, dirty sides turned in on themselves and shove them into his backpack to take home.

You don't elaborate and he doesn't ask, figuring you'd say something if it's important or relevant to him, even if he's pretty sure you're definitely thinking about him right now.

Jihoon tidies up the studio and shuts down his computer in calm quiet before moving back over to stand in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder ready to leave. "So uh, I'm thinking that maybe we should do that again sometime?" He suggests, cheeks pinkening again to a pretty, soft shade. You blink at him, trying to bring yourself to the topic and not think about his cock flopping around in his sweatpants. "Yes, no?"

"Again?" You question and he nods. "Watching you cum?"

"Yeah and well, maybe I can watch you too, if you want?"

"I'd rather you fuck me." You mutter without thought making him gawp at you. "Wait, shit-"

"Okay." Jihoon quickly snaps back to reality and nods, cutting off your rush to try and correct what you had momentarily worried was a step too fucking far. "I'll fuck you whenever you want, babygirl, just tell me when."

"Now. Now would be good. You're really hot and I am wet." His eyes widen then turn hooded rapidly before he reaches out to grab the front of your jumper and pull you towards him.

"You're wet?" You nod shamelessly. "For me?"

"Yeah," You pout and tap your fingers against his chest mindlessly. "You should really do something about it."

Jihoon's voice is a low murmur when he responds. "I should." He agrees and then licks his lips. "But I don't have any condoms here so we're going to have to go get some."

"I have some at home." You declare, very willing to take him home and hopefully spend the night working your way through your supply of condoms. "And you should really get some for here for next time."

"Oh, I plan on it. Gonna bend you over my desk one day, yeah?"

"Fuck yeah." You glance at his lips then rush over to the door.

"What the fuck? I thought we were going to at least kiss." He points out puzzled, and a little offended and disappointed.

"I'm too horny, I don't trust myself to have the self-control to stop right now. So let's fucking go Lee Jihoon."

He knows better than to say no when you use his full name. Not that he'll ever say no when it comes to fucking you, as you very soon find out as you begin a wonderful, intensely pleasurable journey of fucking Lee Jihoon. And it all started in the studio.

A/N- Fun fact; I almost put "put you on my shelf" instead of "pin you up on the wall" but the shelf one made me imagine a tiny little figurine sized Jihoon violently beating his meat so I had to stick with the wall comment instead lol

[offbranddrpepsi]

hello! may i request clove x reader where the reader is stupidly oblivious to clove's very obvious crush? thank you so much💗💗💗

"If you were an angle you'd be a cute!" Clove's banter had fallen on deaf ears as you worked on another one of your projects. The social butterfly was hanging over you, face barely an inch away, staring far too intensely at your cheeks.

"That's lovely Clove," Smiling as you painted you were entirely zoned at, as they well knew. Its not as if you'd really notice it anyways if you were paying attention. For months Clove had been just short of falling over you yet you either didn't seem to care or were entirely blind to their efforts. First it was bashful flirting. They had gotten you a bouquet of flowers, leaving it on your desk with a note. You were already having a bad day so it was a great pick me up and you saw it as that, nothing more, which wasn't what it was but Clove was still happy it cheered you up. Occasional compliments popped up. You're hair looked nice, that outfit suited you, your laugh was nice to hear; all things you wrote off as Clove just being a good friend. Next it was messy pick up lines and asking you on dates. Clove wasn't awful at flirting or picking people up, they were dorky sure but they didn't fall this flat. You'd gone on a few arcade dates, movies, hobby store after hobby store. Your biometrics were quickly added to their rooms lock, allowing you access when ever which you often used. One afternoon the two of you were sat in their bed, you working on beading a bracelet for Neon while Clove rested their head in your lap hugging your stomach. " Do you like anyone?" The question was pretty normal at least for the two of you. Clove had near quizzed you on your past relationships, what you liked in a partner, what you found physically attractive, etc.

"I don't know," Shrugging you failed to notice their eyes looking up at you, a pitiful puppy dog expression on their face. "I don't socialize much outside of the other agents so it's kind of hard to find someone.''

So, you entirely excluded the agents from the pool of 'people i could like'??

"What about the agents then?" Their voice was muffled but you could still hear the annoyance in their voice. Clove thought you may be avoiding the question, maybe you were teasing them, regardless it was cruel in their book.

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that." Adding another bead to the string you could feel their cheeks puffed out against your mid section. "Well it feels weird to say I like my coworker like that so i've not really considered it." That made Clove sad but they didn't stop trying. You were openly affectionate with other agents, exchanging hugs and cheek kisses, so while it was weird maybe it was because you saw them as family or, as you said, you hadn't thought of that. Months passed as you and Clove basically became a couple but they hadn't asked you out and their flirtations and efforts fell on deaf ears. Jett teased you about it at one point and you got onto her for assuming things and making Clove uncomfortable. That's when Clove had an idea that led to their antics today while you worked.

Everything had gone to plan. They had hit on you at least ten times in the past hour, each one bouncing off as expected. A quick text was sent to Yoru and everything was in motion, Clove would finally figure out if you were ignoring them or simply blind.

"Hey," Yoru popped in and approached your desk, you giving him a small wave and turning your music down. "Question." "Okay? What?" You knew Yoru was never the type to ask a simple question and you were pretty sure he even be here to tease you as was his nature. "Wanna go out?" "Huh???" Dropping what ever you were working on you stood, taken aback. "Excuse me?" "Are you deaf or something?" There was Yoru, this had to be a joke.

"No but like, why? You don't like me?" Youd seen him flirting with Phoenix enough to confirm this, how you remained oblivious to Clove was entirely a mystery.

"Cool what ever." Not even answering your question he left, the same blank expression never leaving his face. You were tempted to chase after him, demand an explanation, but instead you turned to Clove.

"The fuck was that??" Clove had an expression you couldn't quite read but was still attentive as you spoke. "Why does he have to be like that? It's not nice to make fun of people." "He's making fun of you? I don't knooow seemed pretty genuine to me." Clove baited you and you took it just as they knew you would, now they just had to really drive it home.

"Genuine?? He barely talks to me and when he does it's ridiculing me like an older brother or some play ground bully. You don't be mean to people you like! You take them on dates, get them flowers, spend time with them, make an effort to make them happy." "So, like me?"

"Yes like you!" It still didn't hit, your annoyance at Yoru now blocking you from any realizations. Clove seemed exhausted, at their wits end with you. Before you could speak again Clove grabbed your face.

"Okay so! I'm gonna have you repeat that slowly now." Your brows knit in confusion as they spoke slowly and carefully.

"Yoru is making fun of me?"

"No the next thing."

"He barely talks to me?" "Liiiittle bit more love." "You're nice to me?"

"Yes buuuut"

"Like someone who likes someone" "Okay now put it together."

After a moment of your rain processing it all clicked, "Wait you like me?!"

"Been trying for months, yea" Their laugh echoed off the walls as you turned into a blushing flurry of interrogation, hands lamely slapping at their arm as it only fueled the giggle fit. They may have wasted months of effort but right now this made it worth it as you fussed over missing everything and apologized profusely, telling them you liked them too in between everything else.

[novella-november]

Not to harsh your joy regarding your personal project, (which does sound awesome!) the fact that you keep answering the "can I do fanfic?" questions with "technically yes, but have you considered not doing that?" does not actually *feel* very fanfic friendly. (Especially for anyone who enjoys fanfic as a hobby and isn't also an ofic writer. For example, I personally write almost exclusively character studies that are an explicit reaction to canon; there is no real way to write that sort of thing except as fanfic.)

Which is just a long-winded way of requesting that you maybe consider less of a caveat with the FAQ if you make one, please.

oh that was definitely not my intention, thanks for the ask! I think it was mostly just because I got that same question a few times in a row from various anons within the same time span (including some that were not published publicly), it just happened that I was thinking of my own project(s, plural now) in the last day when I answered those two, for those who want an extra creative challenge.

There's a reason my own original thing has been in my head for the last ten years without me actually writing it while I've written and posted tons of fanfiction, and even now some of my original works are going to be based on Arsene Lupin, so they'd technically be considered fanfiction since they're based on and use an established work for the characters and settings --

--writing completely original fic *is* harder, and that's exactly why I'm *suggesting* (not requiring!) that people consider taking 1 out of short story 4 challenges to look at their work in a new light.

90% of what I read and (until I actually start and finish my original works) 100% of what I've written in my life is fanfic. I have nothing against fanfic, otherwise I woudn't even be interested in creative writing.

But its also not a diss to say "Would you consider looking at your [fanfic] writing from a new angle and try to figure out different ways of going about it?"

Honestly, being able to even consider this option *as a fun extra challenge* is meant to help improve your writing and creative skills; it's not meant as a cheap shot at people who choose to write fanfiction because I my self write and read tons of it,

it's me saying "if you want even more practice at creative writing during these monthly challenges, try branching out a little bit from your comfort zone, you may be pleasantly surprised."

People who write and read fanfiction already have tons of creative experience, and if people like me and many other fanfic writers who one day dream of being published authors, want to broaden our horizons and seek new experiences, one of the easiest exercises is to take something we're planning on writing or already wrote, and see what we would change to make it brand new and standalone--

-- something that not only helps you come up with new ideas, but also will help when it comes time to *edit*, which can be, depending on the length and complexity of your story, can be a complicated process:

whether that means having to delete scenes entirely,

changing what a character says,

altering an aspect of the worldbuilding to fix plot holes

, re-writing your character so they're not overpowered because it was ruining the stakes and tension,

changing the POV of chapters because it was ruining the flow of the story,

etc etc etc.

I love fan fiction.

I love reading it and I love writing it, and for many people who take on monthly writing challenges, it is a way to test ourselves and gear ourselves up and prove to ourselves that not only can we write x amount of words, but it proves to ourselves that we are *capable of creating*, and for many creatives, that ultimately leads to crafting our own unique stories;

if you're already taking place in a monthly writing challenge, why not push the bounds a little bit *if you're so inclined* and test the waters? Especially when you're surrounded by a community who is cheering you on, every step of the way?

Every Nanowrimo I ever won was fanfiction. Heck, even not during November I once did 40k words in two weeks for a fic.

I always stalled out when I tried to write original works;

it is much easier to start small with a single short story than it is to try to write an entirely original novel, and my encouraging people to try baby steps by *experimenting* with one short story out of four in a month is not meant to be a diss against fanfiction,

but an *encouragement to those like me* who were so eager to write original works but floundered when I tried to jump into the deep end and felt disheartened.

Many fanfic authors aspire to write original fics, and thats who that challenge is for, for the people who want to write original works but are too afraid to fully commit; I'll still be writing and posting fanfiction even if I become a published author, even If I just have to come up with a few new pen-names to post them under.

There's absolutely no judgement on anyone who wants to write fanfiction for these challenges, my "caveat" as you say, is only there as encouragement to those like me who are afraid to take the first step, or uncertain of how to even *begin* that first step, not any kind of condemnation.

TL;DR:

I did not mean for my responses on the "can I write fanfiction" to come off as rude or looking down on fanfiction, its meant to be an encouragment to all the people like me who love fanfic and started out writing fanfiction, and dream of writing original works to take the first step, with a community of like-minded people all taking the same challenge.

Like every other challenge aspect of these events, taking a fanfic idea and turning it into an original short story is completely optional and meant as inspiration, just like following prompts for events is not mandatory, and even completing the 30k word goal is not mandatory; the goal for this month is to create, get in the habit of creating, and having fun with it!

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Let's Talk About Tech (Or Not)

Tags for people who I feel like would have some interesting thoughts about this: @eriexplosion @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @inkstainedhandswithrings @saturn-sends-hugs @the-bi-space-ace

One of the most frequent comments I see about season 3 so far is the lack of discussion surrounding Tech and what happened, and I want to look at this from two angles: the personal aspect and the context within its position in the show. Because while we're all getting frustrated about it, I think it's something that definitely deserves a closer look.

The Personal Side

One of the biggest questions people have so far is why are the Batch not talking about Tech? Losing a brother is very significant for them and it seems like it would be something that they would talk about more. They discussed the issues they were having following Echo's departure from the group, so why are they not talking about Tech?

I think one of the key things to consider here is time. When we see the Batch talking about Echo, it is only a matter of hours if not days after he went. It would make sense for them to be getting to grips with the situation because they haven't really had time to process it. On the flip side, at the point when we see Wrecker and Hunter, it has been at least 150 rotations from Omega's capture and therefore around 3 months from Tech's fall. A lot of the discussions that they would probably be having about it have likely already happened.

3 months isn't really that long, but in the context of losing someone, and in the context of the lives of these characters specifically, it can be enough time to start moving on. Not to forget it, or to not have it affect them, but to not really discuss it anymore. While I've never lost a sibling, I have lost family members on more than one occasion, and it surprises me how little time it can take for things to go back to "normal". Not to not be thinking about it, or to be 100% okay, but to be able to live life without ever discussing it. This happens particularly when something else significant is going on.

When you have another goal to focus on (in this case, rescuing Omega), you can't always focus on the loss. It sounds stupidly harsh and very much like an arsehole thing to say, but realistically, that is what happens. When you lose someone, you want life to stop, you want everything to pause so that you have time to grieve before you go back to living again. But life doesn't work like that. Things keep moving and sometimes the only thing you can do is focus on the events happening now, not the ones that you have no control over.

I don't think the Batch are ignoring it, or have forgotten about it. I think they've simply started focusing on what they need to be doing: rescuing the people who are still here. They can't get Tech back (as far as they are aware), they can't change anything and so at some point they just have to accept it. They probably did talk about it, did cry about it, but we're 3 months along at this point and they've probably said all they can. And Wrecker and Hunter have only just reunited with Crosshair and Omega. They're not going to instantly jump on that discussion again.

And we don't necessarily need to see the discussions to see how it's affecting them either. Tech's death and Omega's capture have made Hunter more impulsive and reckless. He isn't thinking as clearly as he should and now Wrecker is having to step in as the mediator. Wrecker, who was always the one to jump into a mission and ignore the plan, is having to hold Hunter back from running headfirst into things without thinking. The situation has affected them and is still having lasting effects. Even if they aren't talking about it, it isn't like it's just been totally ignored in the show. Of course we'll have to see if this changes now that most of the Batch are together again, but this is already more than we got with a lot of the other clones (Fives never seeming any different following Echo's "death" for example).

And then there's the matter of Crosshair never questioning why Omega only talks about Wrecker and Hunter. This may be because he already knows about Tech. If Omega has been talking to him on Tantiss, he may already know that his brother is gone. But once again, we are watching the events happening 3 months on at this point. He may have had to compartmentalise that fact the same way that everyone else has. We're saw him and Omega briefly discussing Tech and how he made sure Omega memorised all of the plans. Sure, there was more softness there than sadness, but that's what happens sometimes. Sometimes reminiscing about someone that you lost doesn't make you cry, it makes you smile, because you're remembering the little quirks about them that you love. So no, Omega and Cross haven't been shown talking about Tech's death, but I wouldn't be surprised if he already knows.

In the Context of TV

And now onto the other matter. The fact that all of this is happening as part of a narrative.

I think this is where the lack of conversation about it becomes frustrating: not because it doesn't make sense in the context of the characters themselves, but the fact that we are watching this as part of a show. It doesn't feel right to have something that significant happen only for it to never be mentioned again. We can't really ignore the fact that that happened and move on because while the characters have had time to process things, we haven't seen that. That chunk of the story is missing to us and so it feels unfulfilling to have that turn of events not have enough closure.

Imagine if you lost someone in your life and then you automatically skipped to the point where you were starting to feel somewhat okay again, while removing the entire chunk in the middle where you actually processed things. That is effectively what has happened to us as an audience. Yes, we've had months between seasons, but we have this gap of narrative nothingness between the season 2 finale and the beginning of season 3 where the actual processing would have happened.

So our frustration is justified. Not because it doesn't make sense narratively, or that it doesn't seem right for the characters to be acting the way they are, but because we haven't been able to process the events in the same way that the characters have. The characters aren't discussing it because they don't necessarily need to at this point in time. But we need them to discuss it because that part is missing for us. We haven't seen that bit so we can't fully compute the events.

Yes, it's annoying. Not because it doesn't make sense in the story, but because it doesn't make sense to us. Because as an audience the context is different to that of the characters within the story we are watching.

[seoulmatez]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐻𝒪𝒩𝐸𝒴 𝐿𝐼𝒫𝒮

info ⭑ kaeya alberich x reader. 1.3k wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ a bit suggestive ﾉ actor + model!kaeya ﾉ photographer!reader

note ⭑ hi! so. . . i've never played genshin :3 just fell in love with kaeya and wanted to write him! so he may be ooc :p keep any negativity to yourself pls! the inspo for this came from a post by @tetsukei btw! 

when you learned that you’d be shooting kaeya alberich for his newly appointed role as brand ambassador for amber dew, an up-and-coming skincare and makeup brand, you were thrilled. the man is regarded as one of the most promising rising stars in the entertainment industry and you’ve been dreaming of having him as the subject of your camera since you first laid eyes on him.

now that the day is here, you’ll discover that this experience isn’t going to play out the way you imagined.

“hi,” you introduce yourself with a smile as kaeya walks onto the set, “i’ll be your photographer today. i’m looking forward to working with you.”

it shouldn’t be possible, but the man is even prettier in person. his warm, brown skin glows under the lights of the studio and his long, navy hair against the white of his shirt makes the garment appear brighter. there’s a sparkle in his eyes that turns his periwinkle irises into the backdrop of a starry night. you wonder if the pictures you take will do him any justice.

“as am i,” he mirrors your sentiment with a smile that pulls up higher at one side than the other. his grin and voice are a different level of charming that you didn’t prepare yourself for and you find yourself clearing your throat to keep your next words from coming out with a crack.

“shall we get started, then?”

in a way, kaeya is like some of the clients you’ve worked with in the past. he looks to you for direction, asking whether or not he’s posed correctly and easily adjusts himself in response to your guidance. though, as he grows more comfortable with your camera and your presence, he grows bolder, too, taking some creative liberties of his own.

you take a moment to survey the last several photos on your camera, tongue poked out in concentration as you analyze the lighting and angles. a few feet across from you, kaeya smiles. you look cute when you’re focused and, maybe it’s a little conceited, but pride sprouts in his chest knowing that you’re looking so intently at him.

when you look back up to continue shooting, kaeya’s in a different position than before. his elbow is propped up on the table, chin resting in his palm, fingers splayed out about the lower half of his face. his lips pull up playfully at the corners upon seeing the way your eyebrows gently raise at his new posture. “how’s this?”

despite being caught off guard, you nod, holding up your camera to capture his appeal. “that looks great! you really are a natural.”

the smirk kaeya wears is a genuine one. he doesn’t usually have much of a good time at these kinds of things; he considers them a bit of a chore and exerts minimum effort at best, but you’re different from the rest—you don’t take yourself or the job too seriously and he can see himself having a little fun with you.

by the time you finish picturing him with each of the products outlined by the company, there’s only one thing left on your agenda. kaeya’s away getting his makeup touched up as you set up your camera and the props for your final shoot of the session.

you’re opening a jar of honey when you hear the sound of footsteps approaching you. a shadow falls over you as kaeya comes to stand by your side, eyeing the sticky substance in your hands. when he sees you’re struggling with the lid, he takes the jar from you and pops it off himself, returning the container to you while asking, “what’s this for?”

you thank him for his help before explaining your concept to him. as amber dew’s brand uses honey as an ingredient in many of their products, you wanted to incorporate it into your photos.

“so the plan is to have you dip your fingers in and let the honey drip onto the packaging of the serum and moisturizer,” you tell kaeya, stepping back and grabbing hold of your equipment. “sound okay?”

he hums in agreement as he sits at the table with all the little bottles you so neatly arranged. he watched you from afar in his makeup chair as you set them up, cycling through a number of different arrangements before settling on the one in front of him.

“perfect, whenever you’re ready.”

just as you explained, kaeya dips his first two fingers in the jar of viscous liquid, pulls them out, and holds them above the amber dew products. gravity works its magic and the honey slides down his fingers, over his manicured nails, and onto the bottles below.

the rhythmic pattern of your shutter button clicking sounds throughout the studio, bright flashes accompanying each short noise. every picture you take captures a moment in the timeline, the packaging going from being pristine to being drowned in the golden substance.

you’re so fixated on the isolated shot that kaeya’s voice causes you to jump when it fills the air. “do you mind if i try something?”

you aren’t sure what he has in mind, but since you’ve got the photos you need, there’s no harm in giving him some artistic freedom. you shake your head. “be my guest.”

with your permission, kaeya’s fingers return to the jar of honey and he coats them once more. you follow his movements with your lens, even when they drag up towards his face. his head turns to the side as he holds his fingers over his mouth. just like it had earlier, the honey drips down the appendages—except this time, instead of landing on the products as you intended, it plops down in globs onto his parted lips.

for a split second—perhaps a tiny bit longer—you stare at the sight, starstruck. it’s as though melted gold is trickling down his bronzed face—off of his chin and onto the skin left exposed by the undone top buttons of his shirt. he looks more than an actor or a model, he looks like he’s meant to be housed in the clouds with celestial beings.

when you return to your senses, you focus your camera on the image kaeya’s created, capturing his likeness the best you can. despite his gaze meeting the lens, you feel like his lidded stare is burning into you, like those periwinkle eyes are really looking into yours. 

kaeya pops his fingers into his mouth once there isn’t much honey left to drizzle off of them. his eyes are turned up toward the ceiling now, but the continued clicking of your camera doesn’t go unnoticed by the man. he smiles around his fingers at that and only pulls them out when the sweetness on his tongue is no longer.

“those turn out good?” he asks with a smile much more innocent than his actions.

you had no idea kaeya could be so… provocative. you’re sure surprise is painted all over your face, so you dip your head down to examine the pictures in favor of meeting his eye. as shocked as you had initially been upon seeing the route kaeya decided to take, the photographs did turn out well. so, even though your cheeks are burning when you finally do look up at him, you tell him as much. “they look amazing.”

the session wraps up with those final shots. kaeya is stood next to you when he and his crew gather around to get a look at the results of his and your work. as the crowd “ooh” and “aah” at each passing picture on the screen, kaeya lowers himself so that his mouth hovers near your ear.

“do you have a business card? i’d love to work together again in the future.”

hey, it's manon :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[merrilark]

Okay, I've only read a few chapters of Young Blood so far, but some of the things I really enjoy (with mild character-related spoilers; I probably won't say anything about the plot itself yet):

That we're given most of the Umbrellas' favorite foods! Klaus likes bubblegum ice cream, Diego likes roast beef with new potatoes and green beans, Luther likes hamburgers, and Allison used to like hotdogs. There's nothing about Viktor or Five's so far, but we can assume Five's has always been fluffernutters.

Diego is implied to be extremely food-motivated and I love that for him. Viktor thinks he could be a star chef if he wanted to ditch superhero work. 11/10, love foodie Diego.

Reginald named his car Hermes (I'm strangely affectionate about this).

Klaus has been hotwiring Reginald's car since 12 and was taught to drive by a dead NASCAR driver. Klaus enjoyed sitting in the garage with the car running, but didn't realize that you could get monoxide poisoning that way. He's apparently died frequently, and thought he was just going to sleep. Pogo would carry him to bed.

This implies Pogo knew that Klaus was immortal, and most likely also knew that Reginald was routinely killing him.

Klaus also has been planning to leave the Academy for a long time, but hasn't gotten up the nerve. We all know that Diego is the first to leave and (at least according to You Look Like Death) Klaus was the last, so I think this is an interesting angle. It doesn't break canon, per se, but it raises a few questions about why Klaus didn't leave like he planned.

Ben asked every day if Klaus had seen Five's ghost. His biggest hope is that they'll one day all be together again. This shatters me.

It's also interesting that Ben is both one of the most obedient and yet most vocal about Reginald's abuse. He seems extremely aware of it, but is far too afraid to defy their father and kills primarily because he knows that he'll be reprimanded if he doesn't.

Ben canonically views himself as a monster. :( I knew this. I suspected this. But still. Seeing it typed out makes me :((( lmao

I'm also really enjoying that it neither shies away from Luther/Allison nor the fact that it's extremely normalized between the Umbrellas to be pretty, unrepentant jerks toward each other. I think that if they removed any of these things, or chose to gloss over them, it'd risk watering down the effects of their abuse too much in a book that already doesn't seem keen on diving too deeply into their trauma. It's also interesting to see how blatantly weird they all are developmentally and socially, straddling a line between considering each other family and treating each other like coworkers. At times, it feels a lot like they just call each other siblings, but there's no real attachment to those terms, even if they do care about each other a lot. They really do not understand how to be a family or normal kids, or hardly even real people outside of the super-powered killing machines that Reginald wanted them to be.

On to some things I'm not totally digging but aren't a deal-breaker:

Mild canon inaccuracies. I've been told that this book is pretty glaring in the department, but so far I haven't seen anything too bad. The only notable ones so far are: - That the Umbrellas, except Klaus, have never sneaked out before. It's been a while since I've seen S1, but I could swear that it's canon that they all regularly sneaked out to Griddy's even before Five left. - Klaus calls himself a telepath. This is common fanon, but there's nothing in canon itself to support that he is capable of telepathy. In fairness, though, Sheinmel, the author, doesn't actually seem to write Klaus as a telepath. It really just reads as if she thinks that telepathy and mediumship are the same thing. - There's a lot of emphasis on Luther being big. He's constantly being described as struggling with his clothes, or fantasizing about how much larger he'll get, and rips the back out of a jacket at one point because... I guess?? he's so large??? He's very much written as if Sheinmel thinks that Luther is a musclebound 17 year old, when teenage Luther has never been big in the same way that post-serum adult Luther has been. He was always tall, yes, but I really don't think he should have been struggling with tearing clothes.

Typos. It's not glaring, but there are some errors here and there with spelling and punctuation. Combined with the telepath thing, I wonder if Sheinmel just didn't have a great editor.

The writing style is really juvenile. I knew that this would be a young adult novel, so I didn't expect beautiful prose, but the writing feels like this book is meant for the younger end of YA. It rambles, restates obvious points, and sometimes the phrasing feels dumbed down to the point of near condescension. Meanwhile, characters still use mild swears, which gives the book this weird feeling that it doesn't quite know what age bracket it was written for.

But I am otherwise really enjoying it so far. It's fun and I appreciate the insight into the Umbrellas' lives as teens and their internal thoughts about each other, regardless of how canon or not-canon this novel is.

[yallthemwitches]

A Quiet Moment

Sirius thought he was going to get a moment to relax alone in the dorms for once--but all the best laid plans...

For Jily Kinktober Day 9: Accidental Voyeurism.

I thought about resting on my laurels and just posting a excerpt of Ch. 16 of Catch the Wind ( or any of my Snape POV jily fics basically...), but then I've also been toying with a James/Lily/Sirius story for a while---so consider this a soft launch (but don't get too excited---this is very much still just a jily smut fic) ;)

AO3 here

Sirius didn’t get quiet moments often. He did it to himself really, filling his days with endless pranks, music, banter—anything possible to drown out the otherwise existential dread that haunted him in a nearly endless cycle. Noise, chaos, and sarcasm were what he was good at—being silent was not. 

He sat on his bed, completely knackered. The full moon the night before had been a hell of a time, complete with a loose Moony wreaking havoc throughout the forbidden forest. He owed it to himself to shirk off classes, opting for the first time in his life to relax a bit. He wondered if he was doing a good job as he tried to focus on his book, barely keeping his eyes open.

Pounding feet echoed from the stairwell, rousing him from near sleep before the door crashed open. A curtain covered his view, but through the break in the fabric he could make out the untidy hair of James, arms wrapped and clawing around a red headed girl with green eyes.

What the fuck. What the FUCK.

He had known that Evans was starting to warm up to him, fuck, James reminded him every waking second how she now laughed at his jokes and lingered in the halls to talk to him. Sirius had even acknowledged how she had gradually migrated herself nearby during meals, capable of leaning in for a cheeky comment or two about whatever the lads were blathering on about. But this ...Sirius fancied himself a very observant person, but this was coming completely out of left field. 

The couple barreled into the room, James guiding their feet while continuing to kiss, mouth open. Lily let herself be led, curling her hands into his hair and making soft moans when James reached over to cup her arse. 

“This one’s mine.” James nodded towards his disheveled bed and Lily broke her mouth free, taking a moment to regard the space theoretically known as his side of the room. 

“A bed? You spoil me, Potter.” She leaned into his mouth which had begun to trail down her neck. 

“Maybe if we told people about us we could come here more often,” There was a hint of sadness to his teasing. Sirius could see Lily’s brow furrow for a second, but she softened as James' hands wrapped around her middle, pulling her body to sit on the edge of the mattress. 

“ Prat,” She said it through a smile and James caught her lips. “In any event, we don’t have much time do we?”

James sank to his knees. She opened her legs enough to let him slot between them as he kissed her from the inner kneecap upwards, grazing his teeth and leaving pink lines against creamy skin. 

“Merlin Lily, please let me taste you. It’s been—”

“It’s been one day! Not even!” Lily chastised, looking more pleased than annoyed. 

“Don’t worry,” Sirius saw James’ hand disappear under her skirt and she breathed out a high pitched oh, “I’ll fuck you however you want, just let me lick you first.”

She didn’t need to answer, under his hand she was turning into a complete putty, melting like wax in a flame. Sirius hadn’t realized that he had moved into a craning position, trying to peek out of the tiny space where the fabric of the poster bed opened. 

Fuck—what the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I watching this? Am I mental?

James pushed Lily up onto the bed, crawling after her all while not separating his mouth from the inside of her upper thigh. Lily watched, mouth agape and eyes blown, legs angled open giving Sirius a clear shot now of soaked knickers under her skirt. 

She grabbed at his cheek, motioning for him to stop for a moment, then flipped herself onto all fours.

“Like this—we both always come quicker this way.”

James let out a deep fuck and rose up onto his knees behind her. He flipped up her skirt, grabbing a handful of her ass and squeezing. 

“Fucking Merlin, how are you so beautiful.”

Both hands were on her ass now and she pushed into the bulge of his crotch, eliciting a guttural moan. A hand raised off her ass and slammed down. Sirius could tell it wasn’t a painful slap, but it was a slap all the same. James froze up, looking down at the red now blooming on her cheek.

“Oh fuck, Lily I’m so sorry. It just happened, I—”

“Do it again.”

Sirius couldn’t see his eyes at this angle, but he knew his mate enough to know the exact dopey expression bursting onto his face. 

“Yeah?”

“Please, again.”

James lifted his hand again and smacked it down in the same place he had before. Lily let out a soft squeal at the impact, her ass bouncing lightly. 

“ Merlin Fuck, oh shit, that’s so hot,” James babbled, completely mesmerized by how each spank made her ass move under his hand. 

Sirius felt completely out of body, stuck in some sort of purgatory of morals which he was already not the best at maneuvering. Am I being punished?  

He tried to level with himself, weighing the options. Ok-fuck, what would the lads do in this situation? Peter would probably watch also–that little freak, but Remus? Would he scream? Close his eyes and cry? Ah fuck how am I not prepared for this. 

During his inner turmoil, James had crouched down so his mouth was level to Lily’s center. He held her knickers out of the way against her ass with a finger while his tongue started to lap at her. Facing at an angle, Sirius couldn’t tell if he was happy that he was unable to get a full view of James’ work, but if Lily’s response was any indication, he was doing a brilliant job. 

Her hands curled into the bed sheets. With every bob of his head, she let out a mewling cry, lengthening his name until it sounded more like a note than a word. She reached a hand behind her, grabbing into his hair to push his face further between her legs. The action made her back arch dramatically and she used her other hand to fondle a breast still hidden underneath her uniform. 

If it wasn’t already apparent before, there was no ambiguity about it now. This was not by any means their first foray into shagging each other. James lifted his head, locking eyes with her with a glistening mouth. 

“Come for me—come on my mouth. I can feel you’re close. Shit, I need to fuck you soon, Lily. You look too fucking fit, I’m barely holding on.”

He burrowed his head back into her and she let out a cry. 

“Just like that—you’re incredible James. Yes, baby.”

And she was coming. Through it all, Sirius reflected that he really never thought much about watching someone as they climaxed until now. Of course, he had seen someone do it before, but he hadn’t thought to really pay attention to the complete physical shift that occurred. He watched in fascination as Lily’s face scrunched up, all muscles taut before her whole body released like a blank slate. Her mouth hung loose and her eyes stared straight at everything and nothing all at once. 

James continued to lap at her through her shudders, then scrambled into a kneeling position. His cock was weeping as it pressed against her wet center. 

“I’m sorry, I need to be inside you now—fuck I love it when you come on my mouth—”

It took no effort for him to slide into her. His pace was quick and jagged, head bowed forward already teetering towards his own end. 

“I’m sorry–I’m not going to last very long—shit how do you always taste so good. ”

He was slamming into her and the noises of their conjoined bodies echoed through the room. Lily threw her body back against his, head turned to watch him over her shoulder.

“Come for me—I want to feel you come inside me—please—”

Sirius watched as James’ body shuddered, forehead craning all the way to make contact with her back. He let out a string of curses riddled with her name as she kept the rhythm of their hips for the both of them. It was only until the two collapsed that Sirius realized his mouth was wide open and hand had instinctively moved to his groin. 

He jumped the hand away from his cock, semi relieved he wasn’t fully hard, or else he would have some soul searching to do. He laid back on his bed and closed his eyes tight, taking deep quiet breaths. He could hear them whisper affirmations between soft kisses, and he wondered how something so utterly pornographic could fall into saccharine sweet so seamlessly. 

“That was incredible–I really needed that.”James sounded euphoric, even happier than when he had won a challenging quidditch match.

“Wound up from your adventures with your little club?” Lily snorted. There was a sound of a scuffle, Lily shrieking with laughter. “Ok, ok, I’m sorry. You’re… cohorts? Team? Cult?”

“Hey, now you are just being ridiculous.” Some more playful shrieks, then silence.

“I have potions soon.” 

“Stay,” James was doing his best whining voice. 

“Later—I promise.” Someone was moving off the bed. Sirius opened his eyes to watch Lily stand to tidy all of her clothing, smoothing down the mess of hair that framed her face.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else but you for the rest of my life.” It seemed like an awfully big thing to say after shagging a secret lover, but it was James after all—and not just him, but him with Lily. 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Her voice was soft and she didn’t elaborate. The door closed, and silence shrouded the room. 

Sirius waited. He wished that Peter or Remus would show up. That someone would do something that would break him out of the purgatory he somehow was still living in despite the event reaching its conclusion. He peeked at James who had wrapped himself in his sheets, looking as content as a newborn child. His breath slowed and his mouth started to fall open in sleep.

He took his chance. Lightly pulling back the curtain, he placed one foot onto the ground, hoping praying that James wouldn’t—

“What the fuck.”

James' eyes were wide, glaring at Sirius with more terror and shock that he had ever hoped to have directed at him in his life. 

“Please don’t ask me how long I was here.” Sirius’ hands instinctively went up in surrender. 

“How long.” James’ voice was hard, almost pained. 

He blinked, wondering why the world hated him so much. A thousand ideas sprung to mind before he landed on the one only logical enough to keep him alive to see another day. 

“Long enough to see that you are very talented, mate.”

[hearts-hunger]

home for the holidays — chapter three

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Cabin Fever Masterlist

Series Summary: The Cabin Fever gang spends Christmas in Frankenmuth.  || Chapter Summary: Jake has an important question to ask you.

⮡ part one | part two

Pairings: Jake x Reader, Sam x Danny, Josh x Baby | Genre: holiday fluff | Word Count: 3k | Chapter Warnings: none!

A/N: I'm finally updating this fic can you believe it!! Everybody blow a kiss to the sweet nonnie who asked if I was going to write more for this fic, because their encouragement and interest gave me the motivation to write this chapter that I've been daydreaming about for year now. I hope you like it, and nonnie, this one's especially for you! ♡

You woke gently to the strains of a crackly Christmas vinyl and your boyfriend’s soft voice singing along, snuggled in blankets that smelled like him and blissfully content. You opened your eyes but stayed still for a moment, enjoying the peaceful, comforting air of Christmas: you felt the afternoon sun shining all golden over the snow-covered windowsill, smelled cookies baking from the kitchen, saw your boyfriend’s childhood bedroom in all its cosy clutter. You also saw Jake, sitting on the floor as he sorted through a wooden jewelry box, leaned against the bottom bunk you were curled up on.

“What a wonderful feeling, watching the ones we love,” Jake sang with the record, his voice quiet to keep from waking you. You had to agree with Ray Charles; you loved to see Jake back in his parents’ house, comfortable and settled among all his boyhood memories. He sifted through the jewelry box, and the necklaces and bracelets jingled musically as he untangled them. 

“Hi Jakey,” you said softly. 

He turned, a sweet smile lighting his handsome face. 

“Well hi, sweetheart.” He reached a hand to gently brush your hair back from your face. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Wonderful,” you agreed, stretching a little under the warm blankets. “Thanks for letting me sleep.”

He chuckled. “You’re welcome, honey. You were almost asleep at lunch. You needed a little rest, huh?”

Your early-morning flight from Nashville had led right into a trip to downtown Frankenmuth where you visited some of the old holiday haunts; and though you’d loved being back in your hometown with your little family of Jake’s brothers and their partners, you’d all needed time to recharge before the rest of your planned Christmas Eve fun.

Jake turned back to his jewelry for a moment before he pulled out a well-loved Atocha coin necklace.

“Here,” he said, handing it to you. “I forgot I had one here. Now we can match.”

You smiled and cradled it in the palm of your hand. “You could have wrapped it and given it to me tomorrow,” you said.

He shrugged, a little bashful. “I guess I could have. Consider it an early present.”

You closed your fingers over it. “Thank you. I love it.” You liked it even better than you would have liked a new one, knowing it was one he’d worn and loved for a long time before you were together and wanted to share with you now.

He angled his body closer to you for a kiss, and you brushed your fingers through his hair as you gave him what he asked for so gently. It was a little awkward with him still on the floor and you on the bed, and you giggled as he made his way onto the bed with you without breaking the kiss.

“Are you sure we’re gonna fit on this bed tonight?” you asked, scooching over to make room for him, even though there wasn’t a lot of room to be made. The twin bunk beds he and Josh had had since childhood were comfortable enough for one each, but two adults had to squeeze if they wanted to share.

He hovered over you and kissed your neck. “It’ll be nice and cosy,” he said, his breath warm on your skin. “Don’t you think so?”

You laughed and tucked your necklace into the pocket of his jeans, freeing up your fingers to comb through his hair. “Yeah, I think so.”

He kissed you for a long while, loving and lazy and humming along with the music as his hands wandered over you. You relaxed completely under him, thankful you were spending this Christmas and every one to come with the man you loved and the family you had together.

He groaned a little when the alarm on his phone went off, indicating it was time to start getting ready for another round of holiday fun. You, Baby, Danny, and the Kiszka boys were going to walk around downtown some more; later, when the sun set, you were going ice skating before you went to the local pub to watch Papa Kiszka’s set with his band. You were looking forward to it even if you were reluctant to leave Jake’s bed, but Jake buried his face against your neck as you started to get up.

“I’m not letting you up,” he said, wrapping his arms around you and pressing kisses to your jaw. “Let everybody else go bust their asses trying to ice skate. We’ll stay nice and warm right here in bed.”

You giggled. “Jakey,” you cooed. “You can’t be a Grinch on Christmas Eve.”

“Oh yes I can. My brain is full of unwashed socks or whatever.”

You laughed out loud, and he beamed at you like it was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard. 

“It’s his heart that’s full of unwashed socks,” you told him. 

“You’re the boss,” he said. He kissed you again. “I love you very much, you know.”

“Enough to go ice skating with me?” you teased.

He gave you a wry smile. “Yes, and that’s saying something.”

You smiled. “Aw, Jake. I love you very much too.”

—

“Jake, it looks wonderful. Quit fussing.”

He didn’t answer you right away, tongue caught between his teeth in concentration as he tried to get the placement of one particular clove bud just right. Though you’d thought the soy candle making at the Frankenmuth Historical Society would be a fun little diversion, Danny and the twins had turned it into a competitive sport. Each one of them had painstakingly attended to every last detail in a way that seemed totally unnecessary and amusing to you, Sam, and Baby.

After a few moments, Jake stepped back when he’d arranged the cloves and pieces of dried orange just the way he wanted them on the top of your candle.

“There!” he said. “I know I was driving you crazy, honey. Sorry. But it had to be done.”

You smiled and looked over the candle you’d made together — or, at least been together for while Jake made it. He’d done the lion’s share of the work, not because you’d been unwilling to help, but because you had figured out five minutes into the process that he was going to be particular about it.

He’d let you pick the scent, though, and you were happy enough with that as he poured the last layer of wax over the top to set the decorations. Besides, you had to admit that it looked beautiful. You tied a festive piece of twine around the ring of the mason jar, and you stifled a laugh as you saw Jake’s face.

“Does that look okay?” you asked, a little too innocently.

His expression was pained with stress at the crooked bow and an intense desire not to upset you. He reached his hand out to the bow, stopped short, and reached out again.

“Don’t be mad,” he said, glancing up at you before he quickly straightened the bow. “It’s really nice, honey. It was just a little crooked.”

You laughed, not unkindly, and kissed his cheek.

“I’m not mad,” you said. “I know you just want it to be perfect, and that’s okay. Is it perfect now?”

“Yes,” he said with a grin, holding it up to look at it more closely. He met your eyes. “It was a good idea to come do this, sparrow. I know we had to kill time before ice skating, but now we have a beautiful Christmas candle.”

You gave him a slightly weary smile. “I’m glad you liked it.” It wasn’t as relaxing an activity as you’d thought it would be, but hey, he was right. You had a lovely Christmas candle to show for it.

Jake showed off your creation to the others, graciously buffing up your contributions to the creative genius, and you got to see the candles Danny and Josh had been fussing over while their partners looked on with amusement. Josh’s was eucalyptus and grapefruit, decorated with dried lavender — not exactly Christmassy, but it would fit nicely in their home. Danny’s was warm and spicy with star anise and cinnamon sticks on the top, and it was perfectly him.

Jake, Josh, and Danny started examining the other’s candles, and they quickly started coming up with ideas for other candles they could make. The rest of you coaxed them out of starting their own candle business with the promise of a stop by the popcorn shop, and as soon as you got their masterpieces put safely in the car, you headed down the street for their prize.

You all perused the selection of flavored popcorn at the sweet shop, enjoying the warm, sweet air and the strains of festive music piped through the rows upon rows of treats.

“I’m gonna get some of the salted caramel,” Jake said, taking a sample from the tray and sharing it with you. “I know you’re not big on caramel, but just try it.”

You did, and it wasn’t terrible, but it wasn't your favorite. Jake smiled when you handed the little cup back to him.

“Which one do you want?” he asked.

You walked a little further down the display, perusing your options.

“Oh, never mind, I know which one you want,” he said sweetly.

You grinned up at him. “Oh yeah? Well, if you’re so smart, you get it for me.”

Jake did, getting a bag of the caramel and another of the Oreo flavor for you. He handed it to you with all the confidence and pleasure of a man who knew he’d picked exactly which popcorn his lady wanted.

“Aw, Jakey, you did know which one to get me,” you said happily. 

He shrugged. “I’m a genius, what can I say?”

The six of you walked down the darkening streets of downtown Frankenmuth, munching your popcorn and enjoying each other’s company as you admired the Christmas lights and sparkling decorations. Eventually you made your way to the ice rink, taking a moment to ooh and ahh over the twinkling lights draped overhead and the beautiful Christmas tree in the middle.

“Isn’t the tree beautiful?” you asked.

“It’s very pretty,” Jake agreed. “And I’m glad you like it, because you’ll be seeing it up close the whole time we’re hanging with the slow skaters in the middle.”

You smiled, and as you got your skates, you noticed that Jake kept glancing at the ice with more and more apprehension.

“Are you sure you want to skate?” you asked. You thought it was kind of charming and funny that a man so graceful and skilled on stage in front of thousands of people was worried about a little ice skating. “I don’t mind sitting this one out, honey. We can get some coffee and just watch.”

He frowned. “But you want to skate, right?”

You shrugged. “I want to be with you,” you said simply. “And I don't want to make you do something you're not comfortable with.”

A slightly bemused smile crossed his face, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real, and he studied you with that loving gaze you knew so well.

“What?” you asked, feeling your cheeks warm.

He shook his head. “Nothing. I don’t know.” He smiled. “You’re something, aren’t you sparrow?”

You pressed closer to him on the bench, remembering another time he’d said that to you.

“Something good or something bad?” you asked.

He grinned and kissed you. “Something good, for sure.”

After a few more kisses, he knelt in front of you and helped you out of your boots.

“You don’t have to, Jake.”

“No, I want to. See, this is one part I can do.”

He set your boots to the side and ran his thumb over your ankle as he grabbed your skates, loving you without even having to try with his absent, comforting touch. For Jake, showing you love was as easy as breathing, and you felt your heart squeeze at the gentle way he cared for you above himself.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

He smiled up at you. “You’re welcome, sparrow. It’s my pleasure.”

When both pairs of skates were laced, you took his hand and led him onto the ice. He took your other hand too, almost immediately unsteady, and you leaned close to kiss his nose.

“Thanks for skating with me, Jakey.”

He gave you a rueful smile. “You’re welcome. You sure you don’t want to do a couple laps without me?”

“Nope, I want to be right here with you.”

You skated together for a long time, holding hands, managing to keep him upright most of the time. You watched Baby and Josh skating gracefully, his fantastic agility on the ice making up for her slight clumsiness; Danny and Sam were slow but steady, attempting tricks and laughing when they went awry. When the crowd thinned, you, Danny, and Baby raced each other while Josh and Sam tried to keep Jake steady; all three of them ended up in a heap, and you three came back to your partners and laughingly helped them back up.

“Go skate for me,” Jake said when you’d gotten him safely to the wall. “I want to watch.”

You did, flying across the ice, loving the feel of the cold air stinging your face. When you finally came back to Jake, you were breathless and flushed and very happy.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, brushing your hair back from your face. “Like the sugar plum fairy or something.”

You beamed and kissed him. “Thanks, honey.” You took his hands again. “I missed you, though.”

Back near the tree, you skated slowly as a light snow started to fall.

“You did that whole loop without falling!” you said. You moved in front of him and skated backwards, holding his hands and leading him. Though he’d gained some confidence, you felt a new sort of nervousness come over him, something more like excitement than anxiety, and felt yourself start to get excited too without even knowing what it was for.

“I want to try a trick,” Jake said. “Since I’m getting so good.”

You laughed. “Are you sure?” You weren’t convinced you’d make it out of this attempt without a few bruises, but you were willing to try whatever he wanted.

He grinned and squeezed your hands. “I’m sure. Absolutely sure.”

“Is it a trick for both of us, or just you?”

His brown eyes twinkled with mischief. “Both of us, if I have any luck. You ready?”

You nodded, still holding his hands and watching as he slowly lowered himself to one knee in front of you. You couldn’t imagine what kind of trick this was, but you held off asking before he’d shown it to you.

He let go of your hand and reached in his pocket. “Sparrow, will you marry me?”

You blinked. “Wait — what?”

He laughed, big and bright, and for a moment, all you could think of was how handsome he was. His soft brown waves were dusted with snow; his face was rosy with cold; his smile lit up his features until you felt like your heart might break just looking at him.

“Will you marry me?” he asked again, patient and attentive.

You looked from his handsome, bashful smile to the little black box he held. Inside was a beautiful ring, all rainbows in the rosy glow of the Christmas lights, and you couldn’t think of a single intelligent thing to say. Something tight and wonderful felt close to breaking apart in your chest, and you tried to keep from crying, but all of a sudden he was blurry and the lights were a swirl and there was nothing on earth but the feel of his hand holding yours.

“Jake, are — are you serious?” you managed.

His smile was so tender as he looked up at you with nothing short of adoration.

“I’m serious, sparrow.” He squeezed your hand. “I love you, sweetheart, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

And oh, there it went. The most fragile part of your heart shattered into a million shiny bits, making room for a flood of emotion you couldn’t have held back if you tried.

You fairly threw yourself at him, and it was his turn to keep you steady as you put your arms around his neck and kissed him like you’d never kissed him before. He laughed and hugged you tight, joy and wonder coming off him in waves.

“Of course I'll marry you,” you said, and your voice was wrecked, and you hadn't even realized you’d started to cry. He pulled back just enough to see your face and tenderly brush the tears from your face.

“My sparrow,” he said, just for you to hear. “I love you so much, Mrs. Kiszka.”

You’d never heard anything more wonderful. You cried harder and kissed him again.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he laughed. “Don’t cry. Are you happy?”

“I have absolutely never been happier in my whole life,” you said with a joyful, watery laugh. “I can’t believe you. What on earth am I going to get you for Christmas that could top this?” 

He grinned. “Just you.”

You cradled his beloved face in your hands and tried to stop crying, but you loved him so much, and he was looking at you like you were the most wonderful thing in the world.

“I love you, Jake.”

He kissed you, and everything was right in the world. “I love you too, my little sparrow.”

gvf taglist:@malany-gvf@spark-my-nature@eearevee@madneedshelp@demonrat444@josh-iamyour-mama@honeyandsweettae@mydarlingdanny@gretavandann@sacredjake@myleftsock@joshskittytickler21@hellowgoodbye@watchingovergvf2@fearfulspirit@mywaysoon@carbondancingthroughtime@caprisunsister@eraofstardustchords@sacredthefran@shesawomaninadream @serendipiti @demonrat444@wildflowerxx-x@tearsofdanny @iluvjoshkiszka @jordie-gvf-admin@demolitionndann@hi-hi-hello11@wildbluesorbit@nessie-glorpa@laneygvf @jazzyfigz

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[satureja13]

Ji Ho's Therapy Game - Part 2 It starts -> here

Princess Training continues. In the afternoon, the Queen took Princess Jihovere to the Royal Stables. She was delighted to learn that the Princess already excells at horse riding even though she descends from the Kingdom under the Sea. The Queen's eyes lit up when they reached the Stables.

The Queen: "Ah - and here is our Stable Master, Equerry Lunvik!"

Equerry Lunvik: "I will get the Princess' Horse ready." The Princess: "Thank you. This is a very beautiful Stable." Equerry Lunvik: "We have a lot of Beauty here." The Queen blushed.

It seems the Princess has also to learn show jumping. Neither Ji Ho nor Jang Mal ever tried this before ö.Ö' The Queen took her seat under the pergola to teach the Princess and Equerry Lunvik cared for the horses.

Does ingame Yang Mal even remember Ji Ho? Apart from the human NPCs they know in the real world, which don't know them, Diablo seemed to remember Vlad when they met ingame. Let's hope for the best ö.ö

Phew. Jang Mal and the Princess learned fast. I guess Yang Mal also remembers Ji Ho and they did very well. Ji Ho is determined to prosper here and is fully concentrated on their task.

Valerian: 'The Princess doesn't even notice that the Queen left her place under the pergola...' Lunatic: 'Probably for the best.'

Lunatic: 'Seems Diablo is not the only thing rising up high here.' ^^'

Then Lunatic and Valerian became aware of what he just said and it was awkward between them again. They still haven't sorted it out yet...

Equerry Lunvik: "Don't worry, my love. No one can see us here." (I wouldn't be so sure ö.ö')

The Queen: "It's about time Prince Caleb gets married so we can end this charade and go back home. I hate to hide you." Equerry Lunvik grumbled.

Little Goat: 'It's time the Boys get their stuff together! Let's have a meeting so we can end this game soon and meet back home all together again!' Little Goat: 'Right. We better push a little so this therapy shows some effects and we get to see some more spice!' (I really consider calling them 'Little Satyrs' instead of 'Little Goats'!)

Little Goat: 'We should also do something about Lunatic and Valerian. I can't watch this anymore... And then we'll have a party!' Lunatic: 'They are talking and looking at us! I bet they plan something!' Valerian: 'Let them.' Valerian really hopes for the goats intervention. It's far too long he's wooing Lunatic - in vain... (This refers to our The Stables spin-off)

After the training, The Queen and Princess Jihovere went for a ride. The Queen noticed that the Princess looked a bit off: "Is everything ok? Have you seen something upsetting?" Princess Jihovere: "No! I have seen nothing!"

And then they rode into the sunset.

'Smiles in the sunshine and tears in the rain Still take me back to where my memories remain Flickering embers grow higher and higher As they carry me back to the Mull of Kintyre'

Mull of Kintyre - Paul McCartney and The Wings

TMI: I've always loved this song so much. It had been very famous when I grew up. But I never knew what he even sang there and it took me a while to find out the song title hahaha. (The Mull of Kintyre is the southwesternmost tip of the Kintyre Peninsula (formerly Cantyre) in southwest Scotland.)

I didn't even know it was written by Paul McCartney omg (I thought Roger Whittaker sang it)! As often I googled the story of this song and it's quite interesting! You can find it -> here Oh - and have you ever heard of the Mull of Kintyre test? 'According to the myth, the BBFC would not permit the general release of a film or video if it depicted a penis erect to the point that the angle it made from the vertical was higher than that of the peninsula of Kintyre in Argyll and Bute on maps of Scotland.'

hahaha omg! More -> here

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[still-a-morosexual-help]

The 5 Step Plan to Scamming An Angel

summary: They place their bet. Five steps. That's all it'll take to utterly and thoroughly neutralize the Devildom's second most powerful demon.

(Fic on AO3)

"So? Is it a deal?" 

They made an effort to keep their smile small. Soft and Sweet, Asmo's voice whispered in their head. Just enough to draw them in before you sucktheirbrainsouttatheirdi- Ew. No. There's a child here. What. Jesus.

Soft and sweet.

Right.

They bit the inside of their cheeks to fight anything that could be read as too smug or heaven - hell? - forbid as manic, as Belphie had once put it. How very pot-kettle of you Belphie.

"What?"

"Hmm?"

"You mentioned Belphegor..."

"Ah. No, just drifted off while you were deciding.... Which. Have you decided?" They ask, eyeing their current companions. 

"About that!" Luke piped up from next to them, brows knotted in worry. "Isn't it dangerous to say something like that! He's a demon. You don't know what he could do to you!"

"He is a demon," they say with a nod, twisting in their seat to scan the crowded courtyard till they spot Mammon. Even with RAD's usual lunchtime din, they can tell he's being loud as he tries and probably fails to scam some of the lower level demons. As though feeling their gaze, he raises his head and catches their eye, startling and whipping his head back down. Their heart flutters even as a truly wicked smile spreads across their face what was that Lucifer said about being careful of demons corrupting their soul?

Schooling their face back into soft and sweet they turn to face the others, "but I can take him."

Luke splutters.

"Take him down?" Solomon asks with clear interest.

"Utterly and thoroughly neutralized."

"Without using your pact?"

"Yep."

"The second most powerful demon?"

"Only if you're willing to bet on it."

"Angels don't gamble!" Luke says flustered. "You're a human he could eat you but - but even if you insist on doing this, we are angels we can't gamb-"

"I must admit I am interested in seeing how exactly you'll do this. It is a bit hard to believe," Simeon cuts in, as serene as ever.

"SIMEON!"

"Mammon may not always be...the brightest... but he is still one of the Devildom's most powerful demons. Ah, I guess I'm also interested to see what you'll do." Solomon says over Luke's indignant shriek.

"So it's a deal?"

"It's a deal."

"I suppose it is," Simeon says with a soft laugh.

"You guys can't be serious!?"

They look down at Luke, stamping down the urge to ruffle his hair, "It's okay, Luke. I've got this. You don't have to place a bet. And. Well. If things get out of hand, I've got two angels to help me out, right?"

"Right.... Right! Of course! We'll look out for you! Right, Simeon?" Luke's face is flushed, but his eyes are steely with resolve.

"Always." Simeon agrees softly

"Then what do we do now?" Solmon looks past them to where Mammon had been.

"We'll wait till he gets here. It won't take long." They twist in their seat again to see Mammon has drifted even closer. It won't take long at all till Mammon's patience runs out and he stops pretending he hasn't been angling towards their table this whole time. 

Five minutes. 

Five fucking minutes. 

That's all it took. God. Is that considered sinful when you're down in hell?

They bite their lips to stop a snort from forming and subsequently choke on air as Mammon wedges himself into the nonexistent space between them and Luke with an elbow and a "Watch it pup."

"NOT A DOG!" Luke cries as they continue trying to hack up a lung.

"The fu-" Mammon's gaze darts quickly to a scowling Luke "heck's wrong with ya?" he snaps even as his hand worriedly rubs at their back.

They take a deep breath and finally look up. Luke has gotten up to sit next to an amused looking Solomon and an equally amused Simeon. What the fuck kind of angel smiles as someone chokes to death!? Oh. Right. One who was friends with Lucifer. "Nothing. Thought of something funny then my respiratory system tried to kill me. It happens."

"What the fu- heck's wrong with humans?"

"A lot." "A lot."

Their smile finally breaks out as Solomon shares an equally manic one.

"Jeez."

"Eh. It's fine we're used to it."

"Right.... So... what were ya talkin 'bout before?"

They smile a small secret smile to the others.

Commence Operation.

"Oh, you know-" 

Step 1. Turn towards him. 

"-the weather." It's cheesy.

"The weather." He cocks his head. Cute.

Step 2. Shift closer.

"Yup." It's terrible.

 "What's wrong with the weather?"

Step 3. Eye contact. 

"It's just, I sometimes wish the Devildom had a sun." Would they have run screaming for the hills if someone tried this with them? Yes. Yes, they would.

"Yeah!? What's so great 'bout the sun!? It's just bright and hot. We've got way better stuff!" He turns his head, gesturing at the luminous plants and insects around them. His ears are red. Cute!

Step 4. Place a hand behind him on the bench and lean closer.

"I know," But Mammon likes cheesy and terrible. 

They raise their free hand. Brushing their fingers through his bangs and tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. He's frozen. They run their fingers behind his ear before they cup his cheek and carefully turn his head back towards them. His throat bobs as he swallows. Face red and eyes wide. His pupils shift to the slits more often seen in his demon form. Gently, their thumb caresses under his eye.

Step 5. The Finishing Blow.

"But you would look even more radiant in the sun's light."

[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]

"I hate you."

"Come on."

"You're the worst."

"Come onnnnnnnn."

"Absolutely evil."

"Mammonnnnnn."

"The cute act's not gonna work. Ya on my black book now! Ya hear!"

"Mammon, come on, it's not that bad!" It was. Oh Dear Go- Lord it was. With a hell raising shriek, Mammon had flailed back, almost falling off the bench before collapsing on the table with a resounding thunk. Flaming red face hidden behind his hands, he hadn't moved till lunch had finished and the rest of the courtyard had eventually scattered.

He had remained red and silent throughout the rest of their classes.

To be fair, they had expected red-faced stuttering. They hadn't expected that.

"It was and go away, I'm not talkin' to ya."

"I can't! We're both walking towards home."

"Well, don't walk with me!"

"Come on! You love me!"

"I DON'T!"

Ah! His ears just turned red again. Cute!

"Well, that's too bad then." They trot to catch up to him.

"Why's that?" His gaze darts to the side trying to catch theirs, but they keep on looking ahead.

"Cause I love you."

They continue walking even as he stutters to a stop. They count the seconds until he finally recovers and dashes after them. Pouncing on them, he slings an arm around their shoulders and ruffles their hair with the other. "Don't just say things like that!" He tries to growl, but they can hear the smile fighting to take over, even through their shrieking at the continued roughhousing.

"Why! It's not like you didn't know it!" They duck from under his arm and attack his sides with their fingers.

Cackling as he leaps away from them, they finally catch a look at his face. Their smile freezes as he overcomes his own laughter and wipes away a stray tear. Blushing, beaming and beautiful. Even in the dim light of the Devildom, he is absolutely radiant.

"Ah," their mind reels as they try to find their composure. They couldn't turn into a mushy, goopy mess in the middle of the street. "I thought you'd be proud of me."

"What?" He's regained his own composure, but the lopsided smile has yet to leave his face. "'bout what?"

"Taking money from an angel. That's pretty smart, isn't it?"

They start walking again and Mammon follows, easily matching their pace. Eyes dancing with fondness, he snorts, "Yeah, not bad for a puny human."

"Hey! You're barely taller than me!"

"Pfffft! You were okay, but obviously The Great Mammon could've won twice as much."

"Well, I guess The Great Mammon wouldn't fancy a little shopping trip with my meagre winnings."

"...a shopping trip?"

"Sure," bumping their hips together, "a shopping trip. My treat."

"Right! It'd better be! As an apology to The Great Mammon."

"I am sorry, you know."

They wrap an arm around his waist as he wraps one around their shoulder.

"Yeah?" He presses a soft kiss to their temple.

"Hmm. I didn't mean to expose your praise kink."

"OI!"

->

[First posted: July 25th, 2020]

(Fic on AO3)

as per the results of a poll, I've decided to post all my OM! fics on tumblr as well.

I'll be posting fics once a week and going in order of oldest to newest. If a fic has multiple chapters, each chapter will be posted once a week. WIPs won't be posted until they're complete.

I won't be reposting any fics I've already posted here, such as fics from my "Fake Fic Title" series.

If you want to read the next chapter of a fic/the next part of a series much sooner, you can find the work on AO3.

New fics (actively writing a long one shot rn) will also be posted to AO3 (with their links posted on tumblr along with my fic tag list) and won't appear on tumblr for some time.

Reblogs and comments are always loved and treasured!!

- Sam 🐸🩷

[goodluckclove]

Im not writing because idk this week has been a bit mentally tiring for me but i do want to write. Thing is, next chapter is a little too straightforward except for one interesting thing, which is an idea that i've thought over so many times i'm no longer particularly excited by it

Oh shit I was just talking about something like this with @mercuryytheraven! It's sort of a theory I've been developing that I've never put into words because, up until now, I still kind of thought I was a Big Weirdo for writing entire novels with next to no plans.

Here's how my brain works, though and it's why I can't do outlines. If I plan an idea with too much detail and it sticks in my brain for long enough, I have no interest in writing it. There's nothing left to explore or change around and that's some of the most fun I have while working on a story. So I have to change it.

Not completely, not necessarily. Like in Songbird there was supposed to be a big conflict between Scott's mom and Edgar's mom in the Cafe du Monde in New Orleans. I had the whole set up planned and if I wrote it the way I was thinking it would've probably been cool. But the story no longer worked to make that happen, and I was like big dang what now?

What now is that I still have the meaning of that scene, only with different specifics. And it's even cooler. Except I purposefully can't think about it too hard or else I might lose interest, or get bummed if it doesn't fit again by the end of book two.

So yeah, if the writing isn't interesting to you there's stuff you can do to remedy that. It might involve going off script, but that doesn't mean completely changing the course of the plot as a whole. Maybe you make small shifts in structure or narrative to tell the event from a different angle. Or you switch out the people involved in the event - that changes a lot of how it goes down in a really neat way. Or maybe the event is told in retrospect through someone else explaining it.

What would be neat? What would make you furrow you your brow and nod in satisfaction, alone in your room? Perhaps even a quiet fuck yeah whispered in the depths of your brain?

All in all, don't be too precious to the ideas in your head. They are fetal and have not proved their ability to survive in the real world. I am only using this metaphor for specifically you because to anyone else I would worry about sounding utterly psychotic.

But generally if you're tired you shouldn't push too hard to feel like you have to create. You don't need to constantly produce in order to be considered a valid and respectable writer. Maybe think about what would be fun to play with tonight - no plans, just sick kickflips - and get started tomorrow!

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Sir Vival, the two-piece safety Hudson

Sir Vival, Walter Jerome's Hudson-based concept for the ultimate safety car, last moved under its own power sometime around when he showed the car at the New York World's Fair in 1964 or 1965. Since then, it's been split apart, reassembled, shuffled all over eastern Massachusetts, and remained hidden more or less in plain sight, but nobody's made an attempt to get it running again. That'll change now that longtime owner Ed Moore of Bellingham Auto Sales has sold Sir Vival to Jeff Lane of the Lane Motor Museum.

"It'll be the perfect fit," Lane said. "I've been pestering him about it for a while."

Moore, as we reported in November, has decided to close the doors at Bellingham, which he considers the last active Hudson dealership in the world, and has been either selling off his inventory of cars and parts or transferring portions of his lifelong collection to his house nearby.

In 1958, Worcester-based Walter Jerome decided it was about time somebody built a car designed primarily for safety and not for looks or speed. Rapidly increasing numbers of highway deaths - especially in the postwar period - led many to call for greater automotive safety as early as 1947, but the response from Detroit was tepid at best throughout the Fifties. Ford made a few gestures at improving automotive safety, including funding a study on safety cars at Cornell, but it largely fell to independents and individuals to build cars with safety features designed into the vehicle.

Jerome decided to start with a step-down Hudson - which he bought from Bellingham - and split it into two sections "to anticipate the possibility of collision from any angle." Similar to Bela Barenyi's idea for the crumple zone, Jerome intended the front section, mounted via a hinge to the rear section, to absorb a collision rather than deflect one, noting that the rigidity of typical cars was what led to injuries and deaths in collisions. To each of the two sections, Jerome added steel bumpers that acted, in his words, like a second frame, and rubber bumpers around the steel designed to redirect all but direct collisions. Yes, he built a full-size bumper car.

He didn't stop there. The driver controlled the car from a turret-mounted central driver's seat surrounded by a "full circle" windshield for greater visibility. (According to Jerome's literature, the windshield itself rotated past stationary windshield wipers as part of Jerome's quest for maximum driver visibility.) The exterior is fitted with high-visibility marker and signal lamps; the parallelogram doors are designed not to pop open in a crash; and the interior features seat belts, padding, and even a rollbar.

"It is all too obvious that Detroit has no plans to come up with anything really new," Jerome wrote. "Their 1964 cars are already on the drawing boards and spring from the same rigid frames. I hold that human life is important, far more important than Detroit's worry about the cost of retooling to produce an automobile which will save human lives. Adoption of the flexible Sir Vival design would make rigid vehicles obsolete and create a new market, almost immediately, for 65 million vehicles."

Moore and his family assisted Jerome over the years with Sir Vival, including one episode Moore recalls in which he went to Worcester to retrieve the vehicle from the fourth floor of a warehouse, where Jerome had stored it in two pieces, so it could be reassembled and transported to Jerome's house on Cape Cod. After Jerome's death in the early 1970s, the Moores took possession of Sir Vival and brought it back to Bellingham. While Moore had hoped Sir Vival would have gone to Eldon Hostetler's Hudson museum, it turned out fortuitous that he didn't donate it to Hostetler, given that the museum was closed and liquidated in 2018. Sir Vival has thus primarily sat in its pride of place in Bellingham Auto Sales's garage ever since.

"It needs gone right through," Moore said. "It's not really something I want to take home and just let it sit there. Jeff, he's the guy who'd really appreciate it. He'll build it and do it right."

Lane said he's only seen Sir Vival once in person, when he spent an entire day up at Bellingham Auto Parts four or five years ago. "I recall it as not terrible, but also not in great condition," he said. "It's not like it's been outside for 40 years, rusting away." While he won't have a more definitive plan about what to do with Sir Vival until he picks it up later this month, he said he wants to go through it mechanically without restoring the entire car, if possible.

"I'd say the closest it comes to any other vehicle in the (Lane Motor Museum's) collection is the Dymaxion," Lane said. "It's a really interesting story but it's really been pretty much hidden away from the general public."

Moore, for his part, said he'll continue selling Hudsons from his home garage even after the Bellingham Auto Sales property becomes a warehouse. "I still have my new and used car licenses," he said. "I know I can't keep them all, but I've tried."

UPDATE (6.January 2023): The Lane has started restoration on Sir Vival, according to a Facebook post from the museum. "Sir Vival has been separated into two pieces, and the automotive archaeology begins!"

[sweetshelluvaau]

Alright another little Hazbin rant because I saw the first two mins video Amazon posted up. Slight spoilers under the cut.

Putting aside not really liking the direction of 'Lucifer was a misunderstood dreamer' angle they're going with here: Is God or a God a thing in this universe? If not, who created Adam and Lilith and possibly Eve if Adam didn't create her from his ribs? The Angels? Why? Are the Angels themselves' the Hazbin equivalent of the Christian God in this story? If not, who are they? Why are they scared of Hell revolting if Luci has no interest in getting back at Heaven? Who created the Angels if they aren't The God replacement and who do they serve? Why is Luci being portrayed as another 'sad boi' Viv seems to love?

Heck, I'm not even against the idea of Lucifer not being fully evil if evil at all it's been done before, but to taking away the pride of the Sin of Pride makes no sense? Plus again, we're taking away a character's 'bite'. Are the other Sins even a thing here? Heck, is Helluva Boss still part of the Hazbin universe? It seems like it is considering we see Val has a (adorable I want her) Fizzbot of his own (but that could also just be a fun little easter egg too so that point doesn't hold that much weight compare to some of the others I'm asking).

I have more questions on top of these questions but my brain is hurting just thinking about all of this. XD

Maybe this will all be better explained as we get deeper into the show but idk it feels like this could have been fleshed out/worked on a bit more. There's something here I'm sure, it's just not planned out right. Plus I feel excluding God from the lore or even the show itself is a miss opportunity being there's potential in that alone and not just 'God is the Villian' thing, but with themes of familial trauma, religion, what makes us human....

AU SPOILERS SORTA: I don't even plan on going in 'God is evil' in my AU rewrite thing. He's barely even in the story until the very end and while no means benevolent, I plan on portraying him as well...human. I won't get more into it but hopefully I'm getting my point across.

Anyways, done ranting. Um, I'll try to write/draw some AU stuff being I feel I've been doing nothing more than ranting lately. Any topics you guys are interested in me talking about?

[maingh0st]

First i wanna say that your writing is beautiful and thank you for your effort for taking time to actually write Taryn as the complex character that she is, while i think not liking taryn it not complete misogynistic since we all have the right to not like a fictional character even if it well written AS LONG AS WE ADMIT THE CHARACTER COMPLEXITY.I always loved taryn and jude dynamic and how you said every character did shitty things,i always was captivated by characters like Taryn in a way, characters who know how to make people like them shortly said characters who had this "wolf in a ship clothing" vibe,and one thing that i never saw people talk was the similarities between Cardan acting like a fool and Taryn way of acting all innocent and sweet.(and i could talk hours how the fandom perception of cardan is as wrong as is with taryn).Now this is something that has been on my mind for a while,What if there was no coup?Well it hard to tell but i always though that jude path will have been way more different than just not being queen.Withoud a coup jude would have continued to be the king spy but being a spy require hiding her abilities so how dain was going to make her part of the court ?well i cant say.Overall between jude and taryn,taryn plan would have been the first to succeed(now if locke would still be himself and get himself killed that another story).Both taryn and jude tried to fit in a world that normally didn't belong to them but guess what living in faerie requires some sacrifices.

thank you so much!! I've had so much fun filling in the gaps for both her & the Ghost. I think I've said it before, but I honestly had fully neutral feelings about Taryn until I started engaging with the tfota fandom and was just kind of... shocked by how people talk about her.

and I absolutely agree! I was responding to an ask saying that a lot of the overblown Taryn-hate seems like misogyny at this point, and I do agree—there's just this weird misogynistic undertone to a lot of the most vitriolic anti-Taryn content in the fandom. but I would never say that every person who dislikes Taryn is a misogynist; that would be wild lol. everyone has character preferences, and some people just don't vibe with the kind of character she is even while they understand her role in the narrative. like you said, though, a lot of people seem unwilling to engage with her as a complex, layered character, and that's where we get into weird double-standard territory.

it's a fun thought exercise to consider what might've happened if there'd been no coup. I'll borrow the Ghost's words when Jude asks if things will be better with Dain as King: "Things will be as they always are. Only more so."

I think Madoc would still be angling for power—after all, he wanted a King who would go to war (and a King he could manipulate). assuming that the existing animosity between Dain and Madoc persisted, I imagine Jude would've eventually found herself in an awkward position between her loyalties to both of them. perhaps she'd be able to hide her spying from Madoc (maybe she'd even become a knight as a cover for her time away), but I'm sure Dain would use her to spy on Madoc, or ask her to go to extremes to prove her loyalty. his geas would've remained a double-edged sword, too (girl really got out of that one too easily—consider an entire lifetime under his thumb?). I'd like to think her good heart would eventually make her unable to continue serving him (Jude's not really an idealist, but she is unwilling to bear with corruption), but it's possible she could just go on a slow downward slide. consider the Ghost, who certainly wasn't proud of poisoning Liriope, yet did it regardless for his service to Dain.

that's not even really to get into the side characters—like I imagine that Cardan, never being put in a position to grow and prove himself, would've spiraled worse (especially if Balekin survived). etc etc. honestly, the books strike me as the best-case scenario. it seems like things would've gotten a lot uglier if the coup (and Cardan's ensuing kingship) hadn't panned out!

[nullcanary]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Thank you so much for the tag @aliasknives. I truly appreciate it! Tagging anyone who would like to share!

Here's a little Durgetash snippet I've been working on for when Mormo finally returns to Baldur's Gate. I have a soft spot for when characters write and receive letters, so I had Mormo receive a letter from a certain someone who is eager for realliance and perhaps admitting how poorly he took her disappearance.

Upon entering her tent, Mormo finds an envelope laid out on her pillow. She wonders when this had slipped into her space without notice. Looking at it, she knows in her blood, in her heart, that this is meant only for her. A secret dressed in ink. Tentatively reaching for it, she notes the dark green wax seal. Picking it up, she turns it over in her hands. There is no name, no indication of the recipient scrawled onto the parcel. It must have been delivered by hand with clear instruction, which meant someone had their eyes on her.  Could this be some trap? Should she have the others inspect the note for signs of magic or otherwise ill-intent? While considering her next course of action, she runs her fingers over the wax seal, and notices the stamped symbol is that of a clenched fist. A warmth washes over her, like something familiar, something pleasant.  Caution dissipates, pushed off by the growing curiosity. Flicking out a blade from her belt, she breaks the seal. A sheet of valuable, high-stock parchment is folded within. Free from the envelope, the page carries the earthy scent of rosewood with a faint hint of gunpowder. She breathes the scent in and tries to remember.  What in the world is this sense of elation? This sense of routine? This… this… Neither the right word nor memory comes to mind, so Mormo unfolds the parchment in search of it. The sight of the lettering certainly stirs something stronger within her, the sharp and precise strokes of ink make her feel homesick.  Mormo,  Oh, how I had hoped to find you. I prayed that even if I could not find you in good health, could not find you of sound mind, that I would at least be able to see and know the turned earth of your barrow.  My hand stayed by that of my patron, I could not scour the shores myself. I paced the cold halls of the fortress in place of the coastline. Every scout sent in my stead returned with empty hands, empty words. I wrought the ire of Bane on each one for their failure. No body, no charm, no mark upon scorched earth. I could not sit with the idea that you had simply ceased to exist, that there was no scrap left to this plane. I refused to give up, be it hope or failure to accept a bitter truth.  But bitter I have been. For the lack of it all. The lack of knowledge. The lack of control over myself. The lack of you here by my side like we planned. And we had planned for so long. Looked for every possible angle that things could go wrong. Never could I have anticipated your disappearance though.  Of course we knew death was always a risk, but I figured you would scourge the spot where anyone dare try. And seeing you do so many times, some part of me may have considered you invincible… This was an instance where I did not welcome you to prove me wrong.  I carried on in the stead of all our plans, the weight of your loss a strain to my strength, to the patience for your blood-addled kin and the crypt-minded fool.  Imagine the breath stolen in the moments I first saw you again through the scrying eye. Imagine the torrent of questions, the swell of emotions: disbelief, rage, sorrow. But above all: hope. If you had never slipped into the shadows, we could have already claimed the sun, yet there is still time to reforge that which had never broken for me.  I beg no one, but I implore your return. To you alone, I lay no hollow word. Whatever form now shapes you shall change nothing between us.  If it is truly you, come seek me at Wyrm's Rock Fortress.  Do not leave me waiting.  -G