#yes yes i know publishing is a business etc etc etc

[spaceshipkat]

I completely understand if you don’t wanna get into it right now, but are you actually quitting writing? Or are you just quitting trab pub? Either way I hope you’re feeling better soon and that you’re not burned out by the meat grinder of publishing 

to be honest, i go back and forth on this what feels like every day as of late. twelve years has just started getting to me, yknow? but it’s been months since the last time i wrote anything for fun, and i think tradpub is too tangled up in my head with writing, so honestly idk. i think i need to remember to love writing again, rather than thinking about how to sell 90% of the time.

[cloudywriting05]

one of your girls. — coriolanus snow.

we dont gotta be in love, no. i don’t gotta be the one, no. i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

part two published, read here.

cw: dom!coryo, p in v, Bondage, vulgar language, pain during sex, daddy kink, slight sadism(?), 18+, slight non-con, etc

words: 3048 [good, GOD], MAY be grammar errors.

tags: @euphemiaamillais my lovely lady.

“Hey, Snow.” 

The blonde boy snapped his head at you, a stern look plastered to his face. You watched his eyes travel up and down your figure, his expression softened as a small smile crept on his face. He turned his body to face you and sighed.

You and Coriolanus’s relationship was unique, to say the least. You’ve known each other your entire life but dedicated your every day to one-upping each other. Your decade-long academic rivalry with him was something you found deeply annoying, and you knew if he wasn’t as attractive as he was, you would’ve killed him by now. Coriolanus found the rivalry thrilling. Watching you stress and work out to get the best grade was entertaining for him. On the days he was lucky, you would be in the library at the same time as him, searching for textbooks to grab before the other could. The number of times he caught himself peering down at your small figure, bent over, frantically digging through piles of chemistry books was criminal. 

The new school year had just begun, and you were instantly bombarded with strange rumours. Rumours about Coriolanus, more specifically, his dick. He’d allegedly slept with half of the grade’s female population, including your own friends. You rebuffed them initially, that was until you overheard the said ‘girls’ discussing it, confirming it all. You were annoyed, absolutely livid at the thought of Coriolanus sleeping with them. Why did he leave you out? Was this something else he was showing you that you could never get? Whatever he was doing was working. Fucking your entire friend group but purposely dodging you was a smart move on his behalf. But you were never a loser, never second place.

So here it brought you. Standing in front of your arch nemesis with your arms crossed. 

“Could I help you, gorgeous?” he purred, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’re a slut, Snow. Fucking all my friends is pretty corny, don’t you think?” you remarked, running a finger down the locker beside him. 

He looked at you, guilt written across his face. “I’m not a slut, little girl. And who told you that?” 

“Everyone. Everyone is talking about you and your dick, Coriolanus.”

“I got busy over the holidays. Who knew Academy girls could be so desperate for my dick?” he sneered, smiling to himself. 

“So why did you do it?” 

“Do what?” he asked, puzzled.

“Fuck everyone but me? Were you trying to tick me off? If so, it worked, Snow.”

He let out a laugh, completely bewildered. “Are you high? What are you trying to get at?”

“Did I stutter? You fucked every girl in my friend group but me, even though I should’ve been the first. Now, because you decided to fucking skip me, I have to hear about how freaky you are, or how big your dick is all day!” you blurted, your frustration getting by the absolute best of you as his nonchalant demeanor sent you over the edge. 

“So, let me get this straight; you’re angry at me because I didn’t fuck you?” he questioned, eyes wide, trying to comprehend what was coming out of your mouth.

You stuttered for a second. “Yes, yes I am.”

“We played sandbox together and here you are now, in this empty hallway, begging me to fuck you,” he said as he fixed his uniform.

“Oh, so you don’t wanna fuck me?” you purred, your arms crossed, looking up at him. 

“Just to piss you off, no I don’t. Doesn’t matter how hot I think you are, or how long I’ve wanted to for this to happen. I like seeing you mad.” he smiled, knowing he had ticked you off. “I’ll see you in bio, little girl.”

He spoke as he walked away. Your eyes twitched in anger; Snow could not win. Not today. 

“Fine, I’ll just ask Plinth!” your words stopped him right in his tracks.

He turned and stalked towards you, stopping only a few inches in front of you. He glared down into your eyes. “If you fuck Sejanus, I’ll kill you both and make it look like an accident.” 

You scoffed. “Would you, actually? I don’t know. All I know is that I want you at my house by eleven thirty. If you’re as good as one of the girls was vouching you were, then prove it. Or I’ll get one of your friends to, just to make it even.”

“You win, I’ll see you there, doll.”

It was eleven-twenty on the dot and there was still no sign of Coriolanus. You’d pondered about the interaction from today for hours, worried you came off too demanding. You thought to yourself for a while that he was going you stand you up and purposely not come, that would’ve sent you over the edge. You sat on your bed, every negative thought running through your head. Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of frantic knocking. 

You rushed downstairs and stood in front of the door. “Who is it?”

“Is that a joke?” Coriolanus spoke from the other side of the door. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’m freezing.” 

You flung the door open, Coriolanus stood there, a smile plastered to his face. He sported a worn-out shirt that was fitted, hugging his chest. He paired it with pajama pants with a red pattern and slides that looked like they should’ve never left his house. He walked right past you into your home. “You look like you’re about to go to sleep, couldn’t dress sexier?” 

“I mean it’s gonna come right off, isn’t it?”

“Whatever, my room is upstairs and the first to your right.” 

“Perfect.” 

You watched the boy jog up the stairs and disappear behind the wall, following him shortly after. 

You entered the room to him sitting on the bed, using his arms to sit up behind him. You closed the door behind you without breaking eye contact. You could physically feel the tension in the room, his entire demeanor shifting from minutes ago. You felt almost chilled. 

He lifted himself from the edge of your bed and walked towards you, stopping himself only when his face was inches from yours. “Did one of the girls ever tell you what I did to them?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think.”

“I’ll have to show you, won't I?” he purred, his hand traveling up from your side to your chin.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

His hand landed on your cheek, taking you by surprise. You gasped as his hand returned to your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Stupid girl. You wanted me to treat you like your friends, right? They didn’t talk, so why should you?”

You should’ve walked away; you should’ve told him to get out. The boy who defined your entire academy life just slapped you in the face and degraded you, yet your entire body yearned for his touch. You stared into his eyes, they were glistening, wild with power and lust. His blonde hair dimly lit by the streetlight peering through your window into your dark, cold room. You needed to get even; you needed him to fuck you to get even. You needed him inside of you and in that moment, you didn’t care if it was the last thing you did that night. 

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, now,” he demanded, his grip on your chin tightening as he forced you to look up at him, helpless.

You shook under his touch, completely powerless. “I- I want you to fuck me, Coryo.”

He lowered his head, resting his lips against your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine and straight to your heat. “Say it louder, so everyone in the Capitol knows how much of a dumb, little slut you are for me. Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me because I’m a slut... for you.” you proclaimed, your voice projected as he breathed against your cheek, his grip on your chin still tight.

“Pathetic, but good enough,” he replied, he released your chin and moved himself away from you slightly. “Get on the bed and strip for me, now.”

You nodded dumbly, crawling onto the bed. You lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it on the ground beside you, removing your pants and underwear right after. You sat there idly, completely bare, whilst a clothed Coriolanus stood in front of you, fucking you with his gaze. His eyes traveled up and down your frame, admiring you.

He raised a hand and began to caress your cheek; you instinctively nuzzled your face into his palm causing him to softly laugh. “The smartest and prettiest girl in the academy, sitting naked waiting for me to fuck her like a good girl.”

He looked down on you, you were naked and nuzzling your face into his palm, inaudibly begging him to fuck you. You were desperate and it turned him on so much. The most stubborn girl he fawned over for years now naked and begging him to fuck her. He could feel his dick trying to break free from his pants just from the sight of you.

He walked away and disappeared into your open closet, leaving you clueless. He walked out with a ribbon in his hand.

“That’s my grandma's, Coryo. That’s the ribbon she gifted me. What do you need it for?” you questioned, puzzled.

“Put your back against your bed frame and stop asking me stupid questions. Sluts with dirty mouths like you, my dear, don’t get to talk.” 

You followed his command and shuffled up until your bare back was against the headboard, waiting patiently for his next command. You were the smartest girl at your academy yet there you were, brainlessly waiting for Snow to tell you what to do. 

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for your hand. “Give me your hands, doll.” 

You timidly raised your hand towards him. He grabbed your wrist and began to firmly tie the piece of ribbon around them, causing you to wince slightly. The thin material pressed against your skin as you looked at him, hopeless. There he had you. Your wrists tied, naked. Your knees spread exposing you. 

He took his time once again, admiring your small, fragile frame. “You look so gorgeous, let daddy see what’s between your legs better, okay?”

You nodded and spread your knees apart more, fully exposing your heat to the boy. He hovered over you, staring down at your pussy, glistening with juices. He used his hands to turn you over on your knees, your hands still restrained, using your elbows for support. 

“How many times did you speak to that bitch this week?” he inquired from behind you.

“Who? Sejanus? … Maybe three or four times, I’m not too sure–”

“Too many times. Way too many fucking times.”

You felt a hard hand land against your cheek, your back curled in pain as you threw your head between your hands. It was followed by another, causing you to cry out in pain. He slapped your ass again, and then once more. Painful groans escaped your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain.

“Four slaps for four conversations. Turn over and spread your legs a bit more for me, okay?” 

You dumbly followed, still wincing in pain. You turned yourself onto your back and spread your legs as far as you could, quivering and vulnerable. Coriolanus watched, entranced by your naked body. You looked at the boy, gawking at you. His hand grabbed your tied wrists and lifted them above your head. The boy then moved his head between your knees, planting a kiss on your knee, then on your inner thigh. He peered up at you, your pussy throbbing and yearning for his touch.

“Please, I can’t take it. Touch me,” you begged, your voice timid, scared of the boy between your thighs.

“Say please.”

“Please, please?”

“Good girl.” he purred, lowering his head further, you felt his nose graze your pubic bone.

His lips planted a kiss, then moved down to your folds. A moan instantly escaped your lips, your body churning at the feeling of his lips on your moist folds. Your back arched. You felt his lips move against your core, lapping at your folds. He used his tongue to press against your clit, making you cry out and heave. His arm traveled up to your breast, massaging it as his tongue lapped at your pussy. His nose pressing against you. You squirmed as he used his mouth to suck your clit, sending your eyes to the back of your head. The sensations overstimulate you, leaving you hopeless. You didn’t dare bring your arms down, knowing he wouldn’t react well.

He lifted his head from your heat for a second and peered up at you. “You taste so good, let me show you.”

He raised himself and lowered his lips onto yours. Forcing your mouth open with his, his tongue invading your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. You moaned in his mouth, completely dumbfounded by the boy.

“Now, open your mouth,” he said, gripping onto your chin. 

You dumbly followed, letting him spit into your mouth. You swallowed without hesitation. 

“Good, you did one thing right,” he remarked, unbuttoning his pants, holding eye contact with you from above. 

He swiftly removed his pants, followed by his shirt. His body was leaner than you’d expected, his muscular frame surprising you. He hauled himself off the bed and lowered his brief, freeing his throbbing penis. You let out a small gasp. He motioned for you to come towards him, you crawled, wrists still tied, and sat on the edge of the bed in front of him. His penis right across from your face. He stared down at you.

“Look what you did to me, fix it up. Now,” he demanded.

You nodded your head as you leaned to lick his penis. You use your lips to latch onto his tip, sucking on it as you let your tongue massage it. He groaned from above you, eyes closed. Your head moving slowly to and from, his dick still in your mouth. Your tongue glided back and forth as you pleasured the boy. He threw his head back as you did everything you could to his dick with your mouth alone, you spat on it frantically as you took his cock deeper into your throat. Gagging on his dick and pushing yourself past your limit.

“Go fucking deeper, you dumb fucking slut. Treat it like you would treat some other guys. Whore.” he demanded, his hand latching onto a chunk of your hair. 

He pushed himself further down your throat, tears rolling down your eyes in return. He pumped your throat like it was your pussy, you gagged on his cock uncontrollably. Your wrists were tied in front of you, helpless as he fucked your throat. He pulled your head back with the chunk of hair. You gasped for a breath of air frantically, tears rolling down your eyes. His open palm landed against your cheek again, causing you to gasp in pain.

“When I tell you to go deeper, I mean it, slut. Aren’t you meant to be smart?” he scoffed, looking down at your frail frame. “You spent years trying to get under my fucking skin, now I’m on yours, and you don’t know how to act? Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Daddy, thank you.” you whimpered, sniffling as he shot you a smile.

“There you go, pretty girl. Turn over for me now.” 

You nodded dumbly, turning around on the edge of the bed. You used your elbows for support as you perked your backside up. The boy stared at you hungrily. You felt a slap land on your cheek again, causing you to flinch in pain. 

“You wanna feel me?” 

He watched your head bop and down in response. Within no time he prepped himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. You groaned into the mattress, feeling his large cock stretch your pussy. 

“Little Miss Capitol is tight, isn’t she?” he sneered.

He slowly pushed himself in, then out. You groaned as his pace picked up excruciatingly slow, every thrust filling you up. His dick stretched your walls, every bit of your pussy was filled with his cock. He gripped your hip and leaned forward, using his free hand to push your wrists further from you.

His pace quickened. His cock slung in and out of you, moaning as he slapped your ass. You didn’t flinch, distracted by the feeling of his cock. Your moans grew louder as he quickened his pace, hitting a spot within you that hadn’t known of until now. Your body quivered as you felt the boy fuck you with all his strength.

You felt his arm wrap around your throat, pulling you up and restraining your breathing. You gasped, his pace not slowing. You felt his chest against your back as he thrusts into you mercilessly. His free hand slithers to your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. You felt your muscles wear as he continued to push into you, overstimulated beyond comprehension.

Your stomach tightened as you came, and you shrieked. Your entire body loses its balance, flailing forward on your chest. Coriolanus didn’t stop. He continued to thrust into you, your body limp in front of him. You moaned into the mattress as he fucked you whilst his hand circulated your clit. 

“I came, Coriolanus, I came!”

“I know, shut up.”

He ignored your words. Your body tightened again, this time your juices threatened to squirt out. You fought every bone in your body to not let it out. His finger still rubbing your clit as he pushed into you. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum again. I can’t, it hurts!”

“Yes, you can, you can.” He breathed from behind you.

You cried out, shamefully squirting on your bedsheets. The boy pulled his cock out and frantically massaged it until his semen shot on your back. He heaved from behind you.

“Now, you are just like the rest of the girls. I’ll see you on Monday, doll.”

—

pt2 published…. read here.

[thankskenpenders]

Happy new year, everyone! Welcome to 2024, the year that will mark the 10th anniversary of Thanks Ken Penders. I'd like to go over my plans for the blog for this year.

First of all: in the very near future, I'll have a post with my thoughts on Sonic Dream Team, and I'm sure I'll write one last Sonic Prime review once the final episodes drop on the 11th. I've also been sitting on an unfinished piece about the Sonic LEGO sets. I wanted this to be longer and more detailed piece that not only reviewed the sets but also went into the weird disconnect between homogenized image of Sonic the Brand and the actual fiction it's based off of, but it'll probably end up getting cut down a lot just so I can put something out. Let's just say I did a fun little thing with one of the sets.

Second: yes, I would like to return to regular TKP updates this year. As I've said many times, I wanted to do this in 2023, but I've been suffering from creative burnout after finishing SLARPG and have generally been unable to focus on any of my creative goals this past year. I'm hoping that this year will be better and I'll be able to get back into the swing of covering Archie Sonic issues. Even doing one issue every week or so would be vastly preferable to continuing the hiatus. I'm still only halfway done!! But aside from burnout, my other main hurdle is that I need to reread my own archive to refresh myself on all these things after nearly three years away. This will take some time.

The thing is, though, this year I'll have an extra incentive to go back through my previous writing and brush up on all things Archie Sonic. Because you see...

I've decided that I want to make a video essay about Penders. The comics, the copyright battle, The Lara-Su Chronicles, everything.

The why

I've thought about doing this before, but I never committed to the idea. I was too busy with gamedev, or I thought it'd end up being too long, or I figured that there were already enough videos on the subject, or I just lacked confidence in my ability to put together a video essay. So I told myself it wasn't meant to be, and let the multiple YouTubers who have cited me as a source on their own Penders videos fill that void.

Recently, though, a few things have happened that have convinced me it might be time. For one, YouTube video essays/media retrospectives/etc. are just getting longer and longer. When Quinton Reviews is out here doing 21 hours of videos on Sam & Cat, a subpar Nick sitcom that only lasted one season, I don't feel so crazy for wanting to make a video about several hundred comic books and two lawsuits that'd be at least an hour or two long lmao. Admittedly, I've also been self-conscious about doing a long video essay like this as a trans woman who has yet to do any vocal training. But these days I feel like I see a lot more transfem YouTubers who have done little to no vocal training, and that's given me more confidence on that front.

But the big one was Hbomberguy's recent plagiarism video. As I sat there watching it, I kept thinking about the time I found a CBR article that was just a crude 800 word summary of my two previous articles on Penders, published by a CBR writer who's put out over 4000 articles since 2019. If I've already been plagiarized before, and my writing is so frequently passed around as a go-to source on Archie Sonic drama, then I wouldn't be shocked if there were YouTubers out there straight up just plagiarizing me. I don't watch other peoples' videos on Archie Sonic, so I'd never know! So if people are just gonna paraphrase me when covering these topics anyway, why not take matters into my own hands and make what I would consider to be the definitive video on the subject? If hacks like James Somerton and iilluminaughtii can churn out these shitty video essays and people will still watch them, surely it can't be that impossible to make my own, right? (And also, uh, Hbomb literally told me I should make the video lol. If you're reading this, thanks for the encouragement.)

The what, how, and when

So here's the plan.

Part of this video essay will be an adaptation of my Medium article on the recurring themes of Ken's Archie Sonic run, with its content touched up and expanded upon. There were a few things I skimmed over in the article because I didn't want it to get too long, but again, people are out here watching ten hour videos about bad Nickelodeon sitcoms now. I can get away with elaborating a little more. I can add a few paragraphs talking about the Chaos Knuckles arc, or throw in a little more historical context I've discovered in the years since.

After covering the comics, the back half(-ish?) of the video will be dedicated to the copyright battles and their ensuing controversies, trying to give an accurate picture of what actually went down, the sheer scale of how bad Archie fucked up, and what our takeaways should be. This will have some similarities to my New York Magazine article on the subject, but I'll be rewriting it from scratch. I REALLY had to keep things short for that article because I was already way over the expected word count, and my tone was a little more straight-laced than normal because I was trying to keep things Professional. I can riff more and insert more of my own opinions this time, like I normally would.

I'll inevitably have to touch on some of Ken's Bad Tweets when discussing things that have happened after the lawsuits, but I don't want the video to just devolve into a list of times people got mad at him on Twitter, so I'm gonna try to keep that to a minimum in favor of focusing on his actual work. Things like the Scourge the Speed Demon incident and his continued statements on certain characters' copyright statuses probably warrant mentioning, though. And finally, assuming that the book really does come out this summer, I would like the grand finale of the video to be about those first couple chapters of The Lara-Su Chronicles.

I don't currently know when this video will get done, but it'll probably be in the back half of the year, especially with me waiting for the book to either drop or get delayed yet again. But I've actually already started writing a bit of the script, and will keep chipping away at it for a while.

So, uh, yeah, look forward to that? Wish me luck?

[thechekhov]

thoughts on the huge OGL debacle around DnD at the moment?

mmmmmMMMMMM BOI

I was going to be holding off on commenting until something was confirmed by WotC because I hoped to get more info but. I think we basically got what we need. 

For those who don’t know - the CONTEXT:

Earlier last month there was a leak that made the DnD community peek up out of their little holes like a bunch of meerkats hearing a stampede. Y’see, currently, Wizards of the Coast (a company owned by Hasbro, a corporate giant in board-games) is working on a new DnD version that is meant to replace 5e (5th edition of DnD, the most current one). They’re calling it One DnD, and it’s in play-test right now. But there’s a problem. Along with new stuff, they were apparently planning to revise the OGL - the Open Gaming License which had been a staple of the DnD Era since 2000.

The OGL 1.0 was essentially an open world ticket for third-party creators to use DnD game mechanics to build worlds, create monsters, and expand upon the creative base that was DnD. In 2008 they attempted to publish 4th edition DnD under a different, less open gaming license, which ended up severely hurting their overall standing with the community. When they published 5e, they returned to the OGL and DnD has gained traction with the public thanks to various gaming groups (such as Critical Role) rising to fame. Because of the OGL, many people have made adventures for 5e DnD, making monster manuals compatible with the game, and basically expanding on a huge, growing world. There have been kickstarters for new adventures, new compendiums, etc, which were an incredible creative sandbox for just about anyone who wanted to try their hand at creating.

And now it seems like they fucked it up. 

A leak made it clear that WotC is working on OGL 1.1 - which is basically a giant middle finger to everything the original was. They are now demanding royalties from anyone creating new content if they make over 50kᶜᵒʳʳᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ 750k a year from their creations - which in and of itself isn’t super unreasonable.... except for the fact that they can lower this number at any point. 

ALSO with the new OGL (1.1) WotC would OWN the rights to anything made using any of their content (including homebrew made by creators - yes, they would own settings/character just because those adventures use their system) indefinitely, demand they receive financial reports from anyone making 50k or more.

What’s more, they reserve the right to change their own license at any point, with only 30 days notice. (Which basically means that if at any point they decide to demand recompense from people making more than, say, 20k from their little homebrewed setting in 5e, they can do that with nary a month’s warning.) 

“...according to attorneys consulted for this article, the new language may indicate that Wizards of the Coast is rendering any future use of the original OGL void, and asserting that if anyone wants to continue to use Open Game Content of any kind, they will need to abide by the terms of the updated OGL, which is a far more restrictive agreement than the original OGL..." (source)

So as you can imagine, for the past few weeks, the entire DnD community and the ttrpg community at large have been gearing up for either a fight, a mass exodus, or both. It would not be the first time. 

And then, just recently, we had another comment, this time from inside. An email was sent out, which has been evidently confirmed by one of the recipients as true, describing what is happening inside of WotC. 

[I'm an employee at WotC currently working on and with business leaders on the health of the product line. If you want I can provide proof of this.I'm sending this message because I fear for the health of a community I love, and I know what the leaders at WOTC are looking at:

They are briefly delaying rollout of OGL changes due to the backlash.

Their decision making is based entirely on the provable impact to their bottom line

Specifically they are looking at DDB subscriptions and cancellations as it is the quickest financial data they currently have.

They are still hoping the community forgets, moves on, and they can still push this through

I have decided to reach out because at my time in WotC I have never once heard management refer to customers in a positive manner, their communication gives me the impression they see customers as obstacles between them and their money, the DDB team was first told to prepare to support the new OGL changes and online portal when they got back from the holidays, and leadership doesn’t take any responsibility for the pain and stress they cause others. Leadership's first communication to the rank and file on the OGL was 30 minutes on 1/11/23, This was the first time they even tried to communicate their intentions about the OGL to employees, and even in this meeting they blamed the community for over-reacting.I will repeat, the main thing this leadership is looking at is DDB subscription cancellations.Hope your day goes well,PS will be copying and pasting this message to other community leaders]

(source)

As for my comment in all of this? 

I won’t pretend to be a local expert in legal terminology. Others can probably parse the full leak far better, and I don’t think there is anything to be gained by running around in a panic and screaming...

However. 

The fact of the matter is, Hasbro/WotC are shooting themselves in the foot. I don’t believe they have the right to destroy the original license. Make a new one for OneDnD? Sure, knock yourself out. Try it, see how popular it’ll be. But destroying the community-driven 5e will do only that - destroy it. They will not be gaining any money from the fans which are already plenty used to supporting small-level creators first and large companies second. It’s a supremely counter-culture move which will eat them from the inside out. 

The only ones that I feel for are Critical Role - who originally played in Pathfinder and then switched to 5e and paired up with DnD Beyond.............and are now being screwed over because they’re likely locked in a contract with WotC and are contractually obligated to not speak out negatively against the changes. 

In my heart of hearts, I kinda hope that their tablets all mysteriously ‘break’ for the next few games and they go back to pen and paper instead of barking out DnD Beyond ads as they’re expected to do. But I don’t know if that’s something they can afford to risk. 

(.....though hell, I hope they try to afford it. They have a community that will stand behind them, and that community has MONEY. We won’t know until we know, though, and I know that there are legal repercussions that may go beyond a simple income slap on the wrist.)

Personally, here’s my two cents: 

I think people should cast a vote with their money.

 Cancel your DnD Beyond subscription.

Don’t give any more money to Hasbro or Wizards. Keep playing whatever 5e games you want, but do it using third-party digital character sheets, OR just go old school and do pen and paper. Let me know if you need sources for it. 

Don’t buy the Players Handbook, leave DnD Beyond behind, don’t engage with One DnD. There are resources out there that let you play the game that also don’t require you giving money to corporations that are only here to fuck around and find out. You want an adventure module but don’t want to bow down to the dragon sitting on its hoard? Hit me up. I’ll give you some alternatives. 

Hell, I myself will be looking into Pathfinder 2e because I’ve heard good things, and if I need to switch any future games to a different system because Fountry VTT or Roll20 will stop offering the 5e presents, it’ll be a very good alternative. Paizo just came out with a statement that they will write their own version of the OGL which will keep the spirit of the open game alive, and Kobold Press is gearing up with their own stuff. 

I won’t be throwing out my own games, and I don’t feel there’s a need to stop playing 5e. I have a Curse of Strahd game to finish, and that game belongs to me and my group now. We don’t need the module - it needs us. 

... all that is simply to say - Wizards may soon be realizing that when you live on the Coast... pirates are never far. 

(edited thanks to corrections from @magpiesarefluffy )

[icyg4l]

PAC: What Do You Need to Know Right Now?

Hello beautiful people. Happy Monday! Today is special because this will be my first fully intuitive PAC reading, meaning no cards just vibes lmao. This week Friday, I am having yet another Five Dollar Friday Sale so stay tuned in for that! Without further ado, please select the image that resonates with you.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: You need to learn how to surrender to the Divine. I heard “the choice is yours”. Whatever major decision you’ve been contemplating on will ultimately be up for you to decide. You choose your own destiny but you don’t have to know all the steps/details of getting there. Have some confidence in your journey. Everything will be alright. This is for some of you, if you are a business owner or your love language is acts of service, you need to learn how to say no. Turning your services down to people who don’t deserve it is okay to do. All money isn’t good money. As you try to make a name for yourself, lean into your gut feelings. Don’t navigate through this world by being willfully naive. You know more than most. Some of you may have been encountering shady characters. I am channeling the energy of Douda from The Chi; very Devil-like, King of Cups (RX) type of energy. A lot of you have been dealing with two-faced men within the past two years but I am seeing a door shutting in someone’s face in my third eye. You are going to start walking away from people/places/things that no longer serve you. This newfound courage will result in long-term abundance and prosperity. Don’t be afraid to start over. Out with the old, in with the new, babe!

extras: jenifer lewis. “candace/candy”. florist. unable to wink. listening to whitney houston. weather forecast. “maurice/morris”. feeling underestimated. desperate housewives. fearful. cotton candy. yes indeed (2018). cold at night. arm wrestling champ. loose cannon.

Pile Two: I feel like you are going through some physical changes. You could be pregnant, soon-to-be moving, upgrading your furniture, painting your house, learning how to do makeup to be an MUA, etc. You could be doing multiple things at once right now. Your ability to shift from one gig to another is admirable. You’re very versatile. You’re an independent person but you should know that you don’t have to carry the work alone. You have people around you that are willing to help and nurture your talents and skills. The car you drive was created because of team effort. The food you eat is consumable because of a team! The books you read were not solely published because of the author, but because there was a team behind them! Nobody is truly by themselves, honey! Allow people to experience your energy. I feel like it took a long time for you to be this comfortable with yourself. But ultimately, you are human and you need people around you! You will know who your people are when you get around them.

extras: diana/deana. red flags. movie theatre. drug major. oomf. cheese lover. movement. smokey. black eyed peas. rice & peas. red nails. classic manicure. turning 30/milestone birthday.

Pile Three: I feel like you’re guarding your energy right now, Pile Three. You’ve been caved in with your lover, lol. I didn’t mean for this to turn into a love reading but heyyyy, I see you! :). Your union was not supposed to last as long as it has on the surface but it did. I am sensing that it was originally a one night stand or a summer fling. However, it was divinely orchestrated to be that way. I am seeing those Pinterest drawings of soulmates in my third eye. This person is someone you’re aligned with on a soul level; this is karmic. However, karmic ≠ codependent. Make sure that you have your own life outside of this person. This person does have all eyes on you and vice versa. I can tell that the passion is mutual. If you are planning to go on a vacation with this person soon, expect a promotion in your relationship to happen. This promotion could be an engagement/wedding, moving in together, meeting the family, etc. I see you two eating slices of fruit on the beach, feeding one another while smiling and giggling amongst each other. This is a lovely connection thus far. I also see you being spoiled with gifts of your choice. This person is a gift giver for sure, along with wanting to spend quality time with you! However, this is just the beginning. Ground yourself in the present moment. Savor and soak up every waking day with this person.

extras: montgomery, alabama. jason/justin. sam. cartier glasses. fake ID. retribution. academy. pork. glamorous. marjorie. fake gym rat. attracted to pheromones. high achiever. monie/monet. kansas.

Pile Four: This is for a few of you, but some of you could have known someone that was recently released from jail/mental health facility/nursing home. You could be their caregiver/keeper. Others of you have family members/a partner that are financially dependent on you. I know that you feel burdened by this. Both the financial burden and the mental burden can be frustrating. I do see your situation improving. Someone is lightening the load. I feel like you are going to receive extra support, specifically from another woman. She is going to offer help & it will no longer be a job carried by one person. Whoever this is, they have been in your position before so you don’t have to worry about being pitied or feeling lesser than her. Another thing is that you should definitely get started on your laundry. I feel like you are going through a bout of depression right now. Start off with the small tasks first then do the big things. You need to take your time & be patient with yourself.

extras: air jordan’s. new microwave. corn on the cob. jogging. morph. telling stories. future focused. gold rings. coffee. marlboro. notre dame. golden shepard.

[reason-with-the-underdog]

so it's a situationship (ND version)

ok but imagine if alhaitham had in his youth dismissed romance novels as "silly" and only as an adult (post-breakup) did alhaitham start finding value in reading them

so kaveh's very much unprepared for haitham bringing a new romantic male lead energy to their "friendship"

alhaitham, in the days and months after their breakup, starts to read romance novels and character-focused fiction as a way to figure out went wrong in their final confrontation & to understand why kaveh cared so deeply for the feelings of other people to his own detriment

meanwhile, kaveh taped together the torn up thesis and then buried himself with work so he could graduate on time, establish his career, build the palace, etc

which is how we get to where alhaitham seems to have grown a lot since their fight (which was his "rock bottom")

while kaveh's been so busy, he never had time to reflect deeply on the fight

...not until he became bankrupt and homeless & alhaitham was suddenly right there holding out a helping hand

which is why we see kaveh's growth in real time!

kaveh needed a more stable and supportive environment to finally realize the changes in alhaitham and in himself and what that means for how they can relate to each other...!

notice how kaveh's always taken aback when alhaitham suddenly behaves differently than expected

backing down instead of continuing to argue over philosophies

overthrowing the government (!!!)

practically begging to be thanked

the thing is: kaveh is so used to his akademiya-era understanding of alhaitham that its startling when alhaitham has in fact grown up from that unsociable little junior who scoffed a little at his senior when kaveh was distraught over the MC's heartbreak in a novel he was reading

because now apparently alhaitham not only reads that same novel series, he has a personally signed copy of the sequel! and has the next book on pre-order! kaveh hasn't even had the time to read the last three volumes he's been so busy

what is this!! when did alhaitham change??

(what else has kaveh missed in those missing years when they didnt talk to each other)

anyways so nowadays you'll find them curled up on the couch together reading two books from the same romance novel series and kaveh is elbowing alhaitham bc "no spoilers!! you know i haven't had time to catch up until now!"

also consider that the focus on all the nonverbal cues of attraction in these romance novels that alhaitham read finally clued him into the fact that kaveh prob was attracted to him back then

and that their "friendship" may have been seen as something deeper by everyone else...

basically:

kaveh liked alhaitham in their akademiya days, and he figured he was SUPER obvious about his crush and pretty much did everything besides straight up confessing "i like you in a way that's more than friends. lets date"

but alhaitham never picked up on the signs.... so kaveh figures that there's no interest on alhaitham's part.

and kaveh would never outright say "i want to date you romantically" to alhaitham bc of his own experiences with feeling pressured after someone asks him out

(he says yes out of pity and then it ends after the first few dates at longest)

...kaveh didn't want a pity date from alhaitham. so no confession, and he buries those feelings deep down because friendship is good, too

meanwhile alhaitham has no idea what normal platonic friendships are like vs romantic friendships vs romantic relationships (also they're literally teenagers here, being geniuses only makes them worse at figuring this stuff out honestly)

it's only after alhaitham reads several romance novels that he figures out kaveh's feelings post-breakup... unfortunately kaveh is no longer talking to him at that point so......

alhaitham spends the breakup period coming to terms with his feelings & accepting that yeah he loves kaveh

its actually fun for him in an intellectual way how his heartrate will accelerate upon seeing that kaveh's published a response to his latest paper or message board note

plus, kaveh is a public figure so its easy enough to keep tabs on his general well being. even thought kaveh avoids seeing alhaitham in person, they are still communicating over text in an academic way so that's good enough

alhaitham at that fateful tavern meeting never expected anything more, but one thing after another and now they're living together

and oh this is so much better.

and worse.

romance novels never include that the love interest hogs the bathroom for hour-long showers. and those love interests also don't start hammering away at models at 3 am

but alhaitham now gets to see kaveh wide-eyed with excitement over his epiphany (even if its at 11 at night), and he's the first one kaveh tells when he discovers a new blend of coffee he likes or when the bazaar vendors give him a special deal on his favorite fruits

it's funny, kaveh complains constantly about all the books alhaitham leaves scattered throughout the house, but he fails to notice that there are quite a few romance novels incorporated into alhaitham's daily readings

now, as an adult who's done his research (so many novels!) alhaitham's more prepared to notice the signs of romantic interest!

...unfortunately he can see that kaveh acts similarly to how they were in akademiya except with more distance...

which means.... kaveh's not interested anymore

& alhaitham can see how kaveh's still led by his guilty conscience, which is why kaveh goes out of his way to do kind things for alhaitham in return

so: kaveh no longer returns his feelings.

it's ok. there's still value in observing his own emotional responses around someone he loves, even if those feelings are not returned in the same way

[mayhemories]

please please please do a part two of best friend’s brother with some intense toe curling smut!! 🤭🤭

Best Friend's Brother (pt. 2 Smut)

My first time publishing smut - got nervous! if people like this I will do a pt. 3 in which will be p in v. Also, some tags just are not working so if it doesn't work I'm sorry it was not purposeful.

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: smut, !!!!minors dni!!!!!! Smut. Heteronormative sex, swearing, virgin reader, oral - female receiving etc. smut smut smut. Maybe a lil angsty at the start? Reader is still insecure as was requested in the original request. 

Words: 2.6k

Author’s Notes: 

Aged up, obviously. Direct continuation of Best Friend’s Brother <- which you can find here.

Permanent Taglist: @lilprettypetite @nyotamalfoy @weasleytwinwheezes @aonungs-tsahik @rainbowsocks @glitterandgoldfinds @bluealiensimp @melsunshine @ussoppl @wondxrgurll @luvlykrispy @myheartfollower @gloryavila

Fic Taglist: @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kirapeach11 @mochiqueen16-blog @buttercake2234 @darksxder @anficblogs @ashrocker123 @strawberri-blonde @snakequeen13

Read under the cut:

You and Neteyam had been together for six months. And, undoubtedly, they were the best six months of your life. He was so affectionate, something that took you a little while to get used to, especially in front of others. 

But recently you’ve wanted to take it that one step further, but you just didn’t know how. And it was really, really bothering you. Neteyam wasn’t pushy, but he wasn’t shy the same way you were shy. The two of you spoke about anything and everything. He’s helped you explore a lot of intimacy that you felt like you were missing out on. Heated kisses, open talks, and sometimes Neteyam would write you filthy letters about how he thought about you, how he dreamed about you. And you wished you could return the favour. 

You sighed deeply, pricking yourself with your beading needle again. You were so frustrated. In every sense of the word. 

“What’s on your mind? C’mon spit it out.” Kiri said sharply, still busy with her own beading. You were grateful for Kiri, always. She always stood by you, no matter what. And, where others may drift apart in the situation you two were in, your relationship with Neteyam did nothing but bring you and Kiri closer together. She was practically your sister now. 

But you didn’t know if talking about this, about your sexual frustration with Neteyam, was apropriate conversation to have with your best friend. 

“Nothing, I am just lost in my thoughts today.” You tried to dismiss it, and swallow it down. Though you could feel the blush spreading across your body, and the fire of embarrassment spread between the valley of your breasts. 

Kiri spat out a sarcastic laugh. “Uh huh, you’ve been lost in your thoughts for days then.” Kiri tossed her beading to the ground. The two of you sat outside, in the grass soaking up the sunlight. 

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.” You said, more focused on your beading now than ever. You were beading a new bodice for a clan dance in a few eclipses time. 

“Okay, so its obviously about Neteyam then.” Kiri started, you threw your beading at her while a small smirk graced her lips. 

She was still your best friend, you just didn’t want to burden her with uncomfortable knowledge. 

“(y/n) you can tell me anything, I won’t be mad, even if its gross.” Kiri assured you, you felt her eyes burning into the side of your head as you covered your face with your hands. Eywa, you were so embarrassing and naive and stupid. 

You knew Neteyam loved you, and in turn, he is an incredible man. He would never think less of your innocence or your shyness. 

But your own brain enjoyed the act of self-sabotage, and you often could not help but to think the lack of sex life was due to your lack of appeal. 

“You have to promise me not to get grossed out!” You say, pulling your hands away from your face, holding Kiri’s eyeline. You knew you were a blushing mess, riddled with anxiety and nausea. 

“I promise! I’m not a child, and I’m not Lo’ak.” She quipped. You chuckled and you tried to put your heart back down in your chest from where it had risen to your throat. 

“Well, Neteyam and I have been together for awhile…” You started playing with your long braids, nervously. Kiri urged you on. “We have been together for awhile, and I love him, you know I do-” 

“Trust me, everyone knows you do.” You ignored Kiri’s interjection, soldiering on. 

“-And I don’t expect us to form a bond anytime soon, of course but…” You felt the burning sensation under your skin, your blood was too loud and the day too bright, everything was causing a sensory malfunction. 

“But what?” Kiri was kind, and she never pushed you further than necessary. 

“Well, I would like to mate with him but I’m so scared and I don’t know how to ask, let alone do anything remotely sexual and I’m afraid Neteyam knows this and that’s why we haven’t done anything yet and I’m just stupid so I would get his hesitancy-” 

Kiri cut your rambling off, laughing. Throwing her head back in the sun, you could see all the stripes that ran across her neck, hiding under necklaces and her com. 

“Have you just asked him?” She asked plainly, once she collected herself. 

You were shocked - just ask him, was she crazy? 

“Well, no I haven’t.” You mumbled, fetching your beadwork from Kiri’s lap, and finding solace in the distraction. 

“That’s where you start, (y/n). There’s no shame in not knowing.” Kiri said softly, sensing your unease. She went back to her own beadwork and did not bring it up again. 

You knew Neteyam would be back any minute. You sat, still working on the fine beading in your new tent given to you as a step into your adulthood. You enjoyed living away from your parents, the solace and independence. But, Neteyam knew you got lonley and stayed with you most nights. 

Tonight was one of those nights. And, Neteyam always comes to you as soon as he finishes his duties. 

You were just going to ask him, like Kiri said. 

That was no big deal, right? You did not know what you were going to say, you were going to ‘go with the flow’ like Jake says sometimes. 

This ‘flow’ made you feel like you were drowning.

Soft lips on your forehead snapped you out of your whirlpool thoughts. 

“My love are you alright? I’ve been talking to you for a minute or two now.” Neteyam said softly, holding both your cheeks in his hands. His eyes scanned your face to find a trace of what was bothering you, your face flushed under his intense stare. 

“I’m sorry Neteyam, there’s been a lot on my mind recently.” You said, smiling. Neteyam took the bait, removing his hands from your face, sitting across from you on the floor, legs crossed. 

“Tell me about it my lovely girl.” Neteyam said, reaching out for one of your hands. Partially because he craved your touch, and partially to distract you from your beading. He had missed you all day, and did not want to share your attention with some beads. 

You sighed softly, taking his hand. Everytime you looked at Neteyam his stomach flipped, he felt butterflies and fell in love all over again, everytime. He did not miss the bright blush that burned across your high cheekbones and nose, and that dipped down into the valley of your breasts. He knew his eyes lingered there for a beat too long, but you did not notice. 

“Neteyam I am embarrassed to ask you this,” His heart dropped into the field of butterflies in his stomach. “But, do you want to have sex with me?” 

He must’ve heard you wrong. His head snapped to yours, finding you looking up at him through your thick lashes, innocently. 

“What?” The word fell from his mouth before he could reel it back in. And, you were quick to jump to the defensive, afraid of upsetting him, of offending him. 

“We do not have to obviously, as I know I am not experienced and maybe that is not what you’re after but-” 

The low growl came from Neteyam’s chest. ‘No experience’ was just a polite term for ‘no one else's’. As far as Neteyam was concerned, if another male looked at you for too long it was reasonable grounds for a fight. 

“You want to have sex with me?” Neteyam asked, he felt all the blood rush in-between his legs. The conversation alone was enough for him. He has wanted you for so long, for too long. But he would never, ever make you operate outside your own terms. 

You smiled, the fleeting confidence that he provided you swelling in your chest. 

“I would want nothing more, my Neteyam.” 

The kiss was hot, and striking. His hands cupped your face, like they had done not all that long ago, but this time, he laid you down, your back to the floor. His strong, muscular frame leaning over you, your chests touching, and one of his knees had found his way between your legs. His tongue wiped your lips, a gentle way to ask for permission. You gave it to him, his tongue fought yours for dominance, briefly, until you submitted to him, like you always did. 

You were still fully clothed, Neteyam too, but the heat was insurmountable. His knee was far from your clothed cunt, but the anticipation caused slick to gather there all the same. 

He pulled away from the kiss, you were thankful for the air but you craved the feeling of him so close. 

“My love you have to tell me if you don’t like something, or if you don’t feel comfortable or if you change your mind, ok?” He whispered into your ear, you nodded, words failing you. “No, use your words babygirl, let me hear you.” Neteyam left paperlight kisses under your ear, and moved to your jaw. 

“Okay.” You said, breathless, barely above a whisper. 

“Good girl.” Neteyam kissed down the column of your neck, sucking and biting. His cainines taking your sweet flesh and leaving dark, purple marks in his wake. Everyone would know who you belonged to now. If there was any doubt before, there would never be again. 

Neteyam’s left hand was still cradling the side of your face, while his right played with the skin at your waist, rubbing up and down, teasing the skin underneath the hem of your beaded top. As he continued the assault on your neck, down to your chest and the straps of your coverings laid, you felt the tip of his tail caress your thigh, his own knee moving up to find your wet core. 

You couldn’t help but moan at all the stimulus. You felt Neteyam stop for a microsecond, but it was enough for you to feel embarrassed, you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, stifling anything else that may humiliate you. 

He pulled away from your chest, leaning over you to look you in the eye, his free hand that had been playing with the hem of your shirt came up to pull your hand away. He placed your hand on his toned, flexing chest. 

“No. No, I want to hear you, don’t be embarrassed.” His thumb swiped across your lip and in an act of lust-induced insanity you opened your mouth and sucked on it. “Never hide from me, my love.” Neteyam smiled lightly, his eyes fluttering closed, he pressed his hips against your own. 

You felt how hard he was against you, your internal walls clenched against nothing, but you felt how soaked your loincloth had become. Neteyam let out his own deep moan. 

“Do you feel me, babygirl? Do you feel what you do to me?” His voice had changed, deep and commanding and alluring. 

It was all too much. You felt the coil in the base of your stomach tightening. 

“Answer me, sweetheart.” Neteyam whispered as he ground into you, his lips attaching themselves to your already bruised neck. Both his hands making quick work of removing your top, discarding it with no care. 

“Yes, yes, I-” Your breath hitched as his mouth found your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud around in his mouth. “I want to feel you inside, Neteyam.” You said bravely, shutting your eyes, you could not control the nonsense that fell from your mouth. You were too fucked out and barely anything had happened yet. It was embarrassing. 

He wanted you nonetheless. 

Neteyam could not help but growl when the sweet words fell from your plush, beautiful lips. He removed himself from your swollen nipple. He took you in, looking at all of you. Your body had a light sheen of sweat, your head was rolled back, lips parted- mewling. You were everything to him. 

Netyam did not hesitate in removing your loincloth as quick as his nimble fingers would allow, sliding the fabric down your legs he took the time to squeeze your thighs and calves. He wanted to consume you, every part. Mind, body and soul, Neteyam would never stop wanting you. He supposed that made him selfish. But, Neteyam had never asked for anything in his whole life, save for you. And, he would be completely satisfied in his existence in this life if all he had was you. 

“Can I taste you my love?” Neteyam asked, using one of his hands to part your legs, wider, his other was massaging the flesh of your thigh. He saw your sopping cunt for the first time and fuck, Neteyam felt wasted. Absolutely toatled. His dick strained against his own covering, twitching at the sight. 

Stunning. 

You nodded, giving him permission. Neteyam pinched your inner thigh, making you squeal in surprise, raising your head slightly you squinted at him. “Words, babygirl. I know you know how to use ‘em.” 

“Taste me, honey. I want whatever you want me to want.” You laid your head back down of the floor of your home, desperate for friction your bare hips bucked upward, and you could’ve sworn you heard Neteyam’s breath hitch. 

He wasted no time in exploring your most private heat. Neteyam ate you like a man starved, your moans doing nothing but spurring him on. 

You wanted to save your first orgasm for his dick, but Neteyam licked and sucked, one of his hands had found your clitoris, and you felt that tight coil in your stomach begin to snap. Instinctively, your hand flew to his hair, nestling in his braids as he hit a certain spot. Back arching, you began to unravel, and unravel quickly. 

“Neteyam, I can’t, I’m going to-” You began to apologise about your approaching orgasam, embarrassed that you could not save it for when he was inside. His fingers worked quickly on your clit, as he pulled his mouth away briefly. 

“Cum for me, my darling girl.” His husky voice sent a shock through your body, his fingers never stalling, his tongue found your heat again, licking, stroking, tasting. His words were enough for you. 

You felt your walls clench, squirting around his sucking mouth, he drew it from you, swallowing it down. You felt him smiling against you, against your shaking, heavily breathing frame. 

Neteyam came up, his arms extended on either side of your head, your felt his hard-on ground into your naked form, his loincloth would be stained from your wetness. You began to come down from your high, Neteyam captured your eyeline. You stared at him, and his smirk, a bead of your own cum on the side of his mouth. You threw your hands over your eyes and face in embarrassment, you couldn’t help it. You felt like you should’ve lasted longer than you did. 

Neteyam loosed a breathy chuckle watching you hide behind your hands, while your shatteringly-beautiful and so very naked form laid under him. 

“Don’t hide sweetheart, I need to see your face baby.” You shook your head in reply, keeping your hands firmly placed against your face. “I see you. I see you despite the fact that you’re too embarrassed to look at me.” Neteyam’s voice was hoarse, his words raw, and you could do nothing but look at him then. 

See him. 

Feel him. 

Love him, 

Entirely.

He smiled when he saw your warm eyes again. And, you knew you were done. Totaled, even.

“I see you.” You spoke softly, worried that if you were any louder this would all fade into nothingness.

He captured you in a strong, burning kiss. And you giggled at the face that you could taste yourself on his lips. 

You decided that you would not be embarrassed around Neteyam anymore. 

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hi friends! I know it's been a while (over a month, woof), since I published a fic. Summer is a busy time for me - birthdays, social occasions, festivals, etc. And now I am heading off on holiday for a week. I have been working hard on chapter one of Fire on the Mountain whenever I have a free moment, and wanted to have it finished before I went away today, however, between working and trying to get myself packed and ready to leave for the airport, I've not had time and I didn't want to publish something hurried and low quality. It is very close to being finished, and will be my first priority when I return from my holiday (I will still be around, can't resist a snoop at Tumblr while poolside, I just won't be able to write)

Anyway, to tide you over, I leave you with the following snippet!

Header by my beloved recipient of sour cream and onion dust fingers, @vampire-exgirlfriend

Lia props herself up on her elbow, lying on her side as she watches Alicent carefully stitch delicate powder blue flowers into the fabric suspended within her embroidery hoop. Her own lies discarded beside her, she had given up when the thread had become knotted, in no mood to attempt to fix it.

“Alicent…” she begins slowly, “do you ever think about why your father wanted to bring you to King’s Landing?”

Alicent keeps her eyes upon her needlepoint, her tone matter of fact as she continues her work. “To instruct me in what is expected of a highborn lady.”

Lia huffs, leaning across and tugging Alicent’s sleeve to get her full attention. “Yes, but why?”

Alicent sighs, lowering her embroidery hoop into her lap, fixing Lia with an exasperated stare. “To give me the best possible opportunities in life, so that an appropriate match may be made for me.”

“And that is enough for you, is it? To simply be married off to a man who is not of your choosing?”

She lowers her gaze, her voice soft. “My mother did not choose my father, and yet they were very happy.”

“But is that what you want?”

“What is it that you are trying to get at?”

Lia hums, flopping down onto her back against the plush rug that they sit upon in the solar, clasping her hands across her front as she stares up at the vaulted ceiling. “I am unsure of my own purpose, what it is that I want.”

Alicent nods in understanding. “Well, there will be plenty of eligible knights at the upcoming tourney. Gwayne is going to be there, he is competing in the jousting.”

She scoffs, recalling the gangly boy of ten, a mop of hair the colour of rust, that they had left behind in Oldtown all those years ago. “Ah, yes, how fares your older brother?” She asks, turning her head to the side to look at her friend.

“He is a knight now,” Alicent says proudly, “and quite handsome too.”

“Handsome?! How would you know?”

“He tells me so in his letters.”

The pair burst into peals of laughter, stopping abruptly as Otto sweeps into the room, casting a disapproving glance at both of them. “Do the pair of you not have lessons to attend this afternoon?”

“We were waiting for Rhaenyra, so that we might all go together,” Alicent says apologetically, scrambling to her feet and smoothing the skirts of her dress down.

Lia rolls her eyes, knowing their fun is over and rises to her feet too, running her fingers through her dark curls, rumpled from having laid upon the floor.

“Well, the Small Council has concluded its business for the day, and with it Rhaenyra’s duties as cupbearer, so run along. Do not keep your septa waiting.”

“Yes, Father,” Alicent says quietly, making her way out of the solar.

Lia is about to follow suit, when Otto reaches out, softly grasping her forearm and halting her movements. “I trust you are behaving yourselves?”

“Always,” she says with a saccharine smile, moving to pull away from him.

He tightens his grasp. “The Princess is…spirited. Do not allow her to lead you or Alicent astray.”

She slips away from him, pausing once in the corridor to look back over her shoulder at him. “You have raised a well mannered young woman, Ser Otto. She will heed your wishes, I cannot say the same for myself.”

Full fic coming the beginning of September, otherwise you are free to beat me with your shoes.

[bambiniibambz]

Drunk Dial?

(not my art, credit goes to @Ayushnz or Ayu on Instagram and twitter)

Kento Nanami x Fem!reader

Warning - Smut, Vulgar language, Alcohol usage, Drunk sex,ETC. (Read at your own discretion)

A/N: This is my first smut, or my first time publishing a smut really. Please be kind and feel free to ask me to write about anything. I love writing however I have been afraid to do so until now.

-- I am open to constructive criticism, I was writing in the first person point of view, however, if you readers do not like that then I can change it per request.

The sound of the music was deafening, I didn’t even realize what was happening to me. The lights were flashing constantly all around me, I could feel the vibrations of the bass through my body. My legs felt like jello as I leaned from person to person trying to reach the bathroom. The smell of sweat filled my lungs, my own sweat dampening my hair making it stick to my forehead. My entire body was hot, feverish almost. My black dress kept riding up, I was in no shape or hurry to fix it. It felt like every step was a struggle. Everything was a daze, like I was in a dream. 

As I entered the bathroom I saw the lights flicker for a moment, or was that just me blinking? I shut the door, the music becoming a little muted and giving my ears and heart a break from the heavy rhythm. I turned to face the mirror, taking in my disheveled appearance. My eyes were bloodshot and glossy, my makeup a glittery mess. My long hair was frizzy, some of my hair strands sticking to my forehead and body. I felt hot and sticky and looked almost sunburnt. My entire body felt feverish and the smell of sweat was beginning to rise towards my nostrils. 

I leaned against the bathroom sink and reached up to feel my face, but I felt nothing. My nerves were not alerting me to the contact on my face. My tongue was also starting to feel foreign in my mouth, as if there was a big wet muscle wiggling around in my mouth. I let out a sigh and felt my breath hitch. I tried to shake off my drunken haze, tried to pull myself together a little as I pulled my dress down to try and cover my already exposed ass. The short black dress with long sleeves that hung off my shoulder was too short for my liking. I didn’t even know why I had decided to wear it out tonight. 

I struggled to fish my phone out of my mini black purse, the golden Saint Laurent latch on it was putting up a good fight with my shaky fingers. My eyes strained themselves with the screen of my phone, not being able to differentiate anything on it. I basically clicked random buttons until I finally got to my contacts, clicking on the first contact I saw. “A-HOLE”, it read. I huffed slightly, trying to convince myself to push my pride aside. I chewed my lip anxiously as I heard the phone ring once, then twice, then a click. He had answered. 

“Hello?”

I heard his tired voice come from the other end. He was most likely still at the office or working from home, when was he not working? I shuddered, a sudden chill coming over me as I tried to croak out a sentence. My voice came out slurred, which was not my intention.  “C-come get me.”

“Y/N?” His voice came out deep, it left a ringing in my chest. 

“mhm” I heard silence, then a sigh. 

“Nanami~?” I could hear myself whining the ‘N’ in his name. I wanted to go home.

“I have your location, wait in the bathroom and don’t say anything to anyone, do you understand?”

I mumbled a small ‘yes’ then walked to the nearest stall and sat down on the toilet. I heard him shuffling over the phone then I heard the jingle of his keys. I heard a door slam before the call ended, did I hang up or did he? 

I sat for quite a while, fiddling with the latch on my purse or the charms on my heels and jewelry. I saw the lights flicker on and off in the bathroom and heard girls walking in and out talking and giggling while going about their business. My head was reeling and the stall felt like it was spinning. I tried to ground myself, plant my feet on the floor and keep my head under my knees. I felt like I was flying and falling at the same time and I was beginning to get nauseous. 

I had no idea how much time had passed before I heard the bathroom door slam open. A few of the women that were in the bathroom began to scream in panic from the unexpected and sudden intrusion. I raised my head, breathing heavily as I heard the heavy footsteps pass each stall. The click clack of his dress shoes echoing through the bathroom as he stalked slowly. I watched as his shoes and dark shadow passed by my stall, feeling my breathing slow. Suddenly the man stopped walking, halting abruptly before turning around and stopping directly in front of the stall I was in. 

“I can smell your perfume Y/N, let me in.”

His tone never faltered, he was commanding me. I followed his orders, moving my arms forward, extending my delicate fingers to unlock the latch to the stall. The stall door creaked open, my eyes staring at the strong man who stood in front of me. His dark cyan collar shirt was unbuttoned slightly, exposing the delve in his chest. His cheetah print tie also hung loosely around his neck, his rolled up sleeves hugging his muscular forearms tightly. I drank in the sight, my drunken mind already swaying towards him. 

I heard him sigh, one hand massaging his temple as the other rested on his hip. I continued to stare, my mouth parted, my eyes clouded and my mind foggy. 

“God, Y/N… Okay, come on angel, let me help you, yeah?”

He walked closer to me, his buff build barely fitting in the narrow stall. He extended his arms, both hands on either of my shoulder, trying to support me as he helped me up. My hands found my way to his shoulders, my manicured nails slightly pinching his skin through the fabric of his collared shirt.

"Please Nami~, I wan-na go home~"

My speech slurred even more as I struggled to talk. I could hear the coarseness in my voice, the strain as I forced my numb mouth to form words. I slumped into his shoulders as he reached around and grabbed my purse, holding it with his pinky. Nanami didn't say anything as he picked me up with his strong arms, carrying me out of the bathroom and back into the club. The music blaring out of the speakers louder than before, or was I just imagining that?

I felt him shuffle through the crowd, covering me with his body, keeping me from being seen or touched. As he reached the exit he nodded to the bouncer and walked out. The doors of the club opened and the crisp city air hit me hard, it was cold, as opposed to the inside of the club that was sweltering. I shivered, my feverish body still sweating, most likely a symptom of the borderlines alcohol poisoning I had given myself.

Nanami only looked down at me, his brows furrowed, as if he was concerned for me. He shook off the look as he crossed the busy city street to get to his car, setting me down for a quick moment as he unlocked his car and opened the passenger door. Seating me swiftly and buckling me in, taking off my shoes to provide me with some kind of comfort.

I heard the driver door open and then slam once Nanami got in. He buckled his seatbelt and then started the car, I felt the rumble of the engine rise through my core and into my ears. My head getting dizzy off of the new car smell, he always kept his car pristine. Nanami pulled out of the busy parking spot and onto the street, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other on the shift stick. Staying quiet until they were on the highway, he finally parted his lips to speak.

"What were you thinking?"

His tone was calm, it was almost scary. He remained cold and stoic as he spoke, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him, but I knew he was struggling. The whites of his knuckles as he gripped the wheel told me better, his tense muscles and gritted teeth told me better. I knew better. So I sat quietly, trying to slow my heart rate and even my ragged breaths.

"Did you even have anyone with you? Why didn't anyone think to cut you off? You look like a mess Y/N, sound like one too. It's almost 3:00 in the morning."

He cut himself off, sighing and raising his hand to one against massage his temple. I looked at him, his face tense and his jaw tight. He gripped the wheel tightly, excising his frustration on it as if the wheel was the root of all of his emotion. I parted my mouth, trying to speak. I wanted to say something to reassure him that I was fine.

"I was with some friends, women from my work. I drank more than I could handle. I only wanted to celebrate with them Nami, I am sorry."

I was sure he could hear the slight pout in my expression as I spoke. The tension in the air hung heavy between us, it was awkward since we hadn't spoken in so long. Ever since his promotion he had been working a lot more which meant we parted a little. We were only colleagues at most but it was still hurting me that he didn't even care to check in on me here and there.

When I had gotten my promotion he did not even congratulate me, he most likely didn't even know. However, it didn't even matter anymore, the celebratory night had ended in disaster, and I was wasted.

I looked over to see that his face had softened, his brows were still furrowed but his eyes looked filled with care.

"You should have called me sooner Y/N, you know I would have dropped everything for you."

My mouth parted slightly, taking in a small gasp, expressing my shock at his words. It was unlike him to be this blunt. My heart softened yet my face contorted into one of bitterness, still hurting from his actions. How could he say that yet do the complete opposite.

"You're a liar! You barely talked to me after you left. I know you were busy but were you really too busy to even send me a small text?"

I sat up in the seat, pulling my knees under me so that I could be facing him as I sat. I continued in my verbal assault to his character.

"You don't even know what I was celebrating."

He glanced at me, only for a moment, but when he saw the pout on my face and my visibly upset expression his chest expanded. He was feeling guilty. He adjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the road once again. He took a deep breath before responding to me.

"Y/N, you know better than anyone that I care about you and I will always be honest with you. I had always tried to put you first but my work was beginning to become cumbersome, and the more I saw you grow the more I felt like I was becoming an anchor. How do you think I felt when as soon as I left on promotion you got promoted as well? I was proud, beyond proud, but I felt the reason you hadn't been promoted sooner was because of me."

He spoke softly, his voice dying down into a smooth and gentle wave that washed over me. His muscles flexed as he turned the wheel, turning into his neighborhood. I stared at him, not knowing what to say. I looked down, a little ashamed at my words. I hadn't even known the entire story and had just accused him of being cold-hearted.

"I-, I had no idea. Why? Why would you even think that? I was always so smitten with you. I always tried to tell you or show you that I liked you but I thought that you just weren't interested."

I saw him smile a little as he pulled into his driveway, looking at me with an expression of slight disbelief. I smiled back at him dumbly, bringing up my hand to try and cover my smile.

"You liked me?"

My face flushed even more and somehow my body got hotter. I smacked him playfully, giggling as I did so.

"How did you not know? I literally made it so obvious."

He chuckled, a deep rumble erupting from his chest as he moved to turn off the parked car. He took off his seatbelt and opened the car door, walking to my side and opening that door as well before unbuckling my seatbelt. He lifted me in his strong arms with ease, shutting the door and then locking his car.

"You should have just told me, I liked you too but I tried not to show it. I thought you were just being nice."

My head was flying, the intoxication fading slightly and giving me a pleasurable high. I giggled into his shoulder as he walked with me in his arms. He removed one of his arms and dug around for his keys, grabbing them and then unlocking the door.

"Well, you know now~."

I said as he helped me inside his home, removing my shoes and putting them to the side.

"I do,"

He said calmly, I felt the tremor in his voice as he spoke. It rose from my tummy and to my heart. He set me down on the floor, my toes touching the floor before my heel, my feet resting flat against the ground. His large hands rested at my hips as my hands rested at his shoulders.

I felt the tension of the moment, his soft lips looking so kissable. I leaned in closer, moving my hand to the back of his neck while standing on my tippy toes. Trying to inch in close enough to finally feel him against my lips.

"Y/N, I brought you here to make sure that you don't get alcohol poisoning. I know you like me doll, but I would rather not take advantage of you while you're intoxicated."

He removed my hand from the back of his neck before he pulled me towards his couch, setting me down on the plush material. He took a step back, loosening his tie even more and running his fingers through his hair. I drooled over him, staring at him with hungry eyes.

"Please, Nami? I'm sober enough, I won't regret it I know that I won't."

He froze as he heard my voice, I was basically begging for him to fuck me. I had wanted him for so long and I finally had a chance to have him; and he was containing himself simply because I was a little inebriated?

He shook his head as he glared at me, lust beginning to cloud over his eyes. I was sure that almost everything was still exposed. The short black dress barely covered anything. I leaned over the side of the couch, my cleavage basically spilling out as I did so.

"Y/N, you don't even know what you are asking me to do. Please just get some rest. We can talk about this in the morning."

He said to me as he pulled a blanket from a little linen closet in the hall. He walked towards me and began trying to tuck me in, I moved my arm, tugging at his shirt. My eyes staring at his, silently pleading with him. I once again pursed me lips, clutching at his shirt with my manicured nails.

"Y/N, please, you know how hard it is for me to stop myself from indulging in you."

His voice came out a breathless whisper, his breath fanning on my face as he slowly inched closer.

"Please indulge in me Nami~."

I whimpered out before his resolve finally crumbled. His lips melted into mine, his hand holding my waist while the other held my neck steady. He tilted his head, his tongue asking for entrance, I gladly let him in; his tongue began to prod at my cheeks and tongue, gently entangling himself with me. He was such a gentlemen.

He began leaving sloppy wet kisses down my jaw to my neck and chest. The wet sound of the contact gracing my ears with each passionate peck. I tangled both of my hands in his blonde hair, moaning as he continued to litter me in love marks.

"You're so pretty, all laid out for me, my sweet girl."

He cooed as he moved lower, slipping my dress over my thighs and tummy to reveal my pastel pink lace panties. He kissed my tummy and moved at a torturingly slow pace, stopping at the band of my panties. I whined at the loss of contact, his warm lips being replaced by the cold air.

He settled his face between my legs, moving back on the couch. He used his fingers to rub small circles at my entrance through my panties. The already damp spot spreading and soaking my panties even more.

"Awww, my pretty girl's already so wet for me."

He said as he pushed my panties to the side, pushing a finger in with ease. I was so wet that it just glided in, I heard the lewd squelching sounds coming from my pussy as he moved his finger in and out of me. His brows furrowed as he eyed my pussy, watching the way I swallowed his fingers hungrily.

"God, Y/N."

He removed his fingers and began to tease me, dragging his fingers lightly over the band of my panties, watching as I bucked my hips into him. He chuckled before finally taking off my panties.

I watched as lowered himself towards my sex, his eyes making contact with mine as he licked a long fat strip over my entrance and clit. I shuddered, my eyes rolling back as I moaned loudly. The lustful glint in his eyes was hard to miss.

"Nami, please~, more please more."

I need him so badly, my head was spinning from the high he was giving me. I lifted my hand and bit on one of my nails, my brows furrowing as I watched him go down on me. I felt his tongue darting out, lapping at my clit while curling his two fingers inside of me.

I cried out for him, my release already building in the pit of my stomach. He felt me tightening around his fingers, the way my moans became more desperate. The way I ground back against his tongue becoming more frantic.

"Nami, I'm gonna-aa~."

He pulled away immediately, denying me my release. I looked at him, tears brimming around my eyes, my chest heaving. My fluid glistened on his chin as he licked his fingers, tasting me. I sat up on the couch, moving myself towards him, forcing him to sit on the couch as I straddled him in between my legs.

"Y/N, what are y-?"

My wet pussy stained his beige pants, I felt his bulge poking at my clit. I kissed him while grinding down on it, the delicious feeling erupting in my tummy once again. One of his hands grabbed my waist, pushing me down further on his member while the other grabbed my hair, deepening the kiss. I pulled away, gasping for air, my lips bruised and swollen.

"Please fuck me."

I whispered breathlessly; I felt his chest heave underneath me as I pressed my hands against his pecs. He lifted me with him as he stood, setting me down on my feet as he looked into my eyes. Half-lidded as he seductively unbuckled his pants; unzipping them then tossing them somewhere in the living room. He removed his shirt as well, he walked towards me, pulling the top of my dress down to expose my cleavage.

My nipples perky and hard as he took one in his mouth, suckling on the supple flesh. I let out a whimper, palming his hard on through his boxers. I felt how big he was, the girth of his cock straining against him because of the tight boxers. I felt his tip, precut already leaking and staining his boxers.

I knelt down to take his boxers off, his length slapping my face as it was finally freed from its confine. He stared down at me, mouth parted, muscles flexing and tense as his dick twitched.

"ah-fuck"

I grabbed it in my hand, giving soft strokes before taking a long lick, from the base of his cock all the way to the slit of his tip.

He shuddered underneath my touch, his hand finding purchase in my hair as he tugged lightly. I put his tip in my mouth, sucking slowly, hollowing out my cheeks as I began bobbing my head.

"Take my cock, just like that."

I spit and sucked, taking in as much of his cock as I could. Trying to stuff my mouth full of his cock. He eventually began fucking my face. Planting his hands on either side of my head and shoving my mouth onto his dick, forcing me to take all of him. I gagged and choked, sputtering on his member as he continued his ministrations.

"You're such a fucking slut, slobbering on my cock like a good little bitch."

My heart throbbed as he finally pulled himself out of me, his words made my heart flutter. It seemed so wrong but felt so good.

He lifted me up, placing me on the couch, leaning over me in a missionary position. He teased my entrance with the head of his cock, I felt my inside tighten around nothing as he slid his head over my clit over and over.

"Nami! Please, please just fuck me, give me what I want."

He leaned his forehead against mine, our sweat mingling together as he gave me a kiss on my lips.

"You're that desperate? Shh sweetheart, it's okay. I'm here don't worry, I'll fuck you good my baby."

His tip pushed through my entrance, I cried out, my hands flying to clutch at his shoulders.

"haaa~ Nami!~"

He was so big, he was barely inside of me and I was already crying from how good it felt. I felt his gaze on me, a smirk playing on his lips as he slid all the way in. He breathed heavily, moaning gruffly from the feeling of me squeezing around him.

"fuck- you're so tight-'

He moaned as he began to move, his hips slamming into me at a slow pace. He stared at my tits, watching them bounce back and forth as he continued to fuck me. He took one of his hands and began to massage my clit gently. Rubbing slow circles over it. I was seeing stars.

"F-faster please nami~ I wanna cumm~"

I moaned out, he obliged to my request, sliding forward and forcing himself deeper. He began pounding into me mercilessly, I heard the lewd slapping of skin against skin echo throughout his living room. His moans and huffs spurred me on as I neared my climax.

"You wanna cum for me? hm, pretty girl?"

A mumble of 'yes' tumbled out of mouth repetitively, he only went faster, edging me closer towards my release. His thumb rolled over my clit again and I released all over him, my juices squirting out onto his abdomen and dribbling down his thighs.

"fuck fuck fuck-"

I quivered as he held my hips steady, fucking me through my high. His breath became heavy, I could tell he was nearing his end as well.

"Such a messy girl, this cock making you go stupid?"

My mind turned into mush. It was like he was mocking me while making me go dumb on his cock. He knew what he was doing. My tongue lolled out of mouth as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I couldn't even form a sentence at this point, let alone try and protest against him, I knew he was right.

My hands reach out, my eyes struggling to maintain eye contact with him.

"fuck- I'm about to cum"

His strokes became more frantic, his steady rhythm losing pace. I locked my legs around him, trying to make sure that he came inside. I mustered up the last bit of coherency my brain could form.

"d-don't pull out"

I heard his chest rumble with a laugh, as he took a good look at my fucked out expression. "You serious?"

I only nodded my head, egging him on, I wanted him to finish inside of me. He continued to fuck me, finally reaching his climax. I felt thick ropes of cum shoot into me as he bottomed out in me. He was balls deep, his head twitching inside of me as he emptied everything he had.

I couldn't even tell what happened next, I was already out cold on his couch. Blissful and happy from the night.

--A/N - if you have managed to make it this far, thank you for reading and if you do not like it then please offer me suggestions on what to write about and what I could do differently. I tried my best but as I said it is my first smut. I am sorry if it seems a little rushed.

[threebooksoneplot]

Wait can authors really not read fics of their own work in case they get sued for stealing ideas?? That seems so wild to me I’d wanna publish and then read like coffee shop AUs of my weird fantasy stuff or whatever. U hear about the authors that don’t like fanfic of their works but not the ones that like them and can’t read them!!

I assume it's usually a policy enforced by publishers/agents, the people who have to worry about the business/legal side of things, and that it mostly applies to ongoing series/canons. But yes, it's a thing! various authors have discussed it before (here is where I would usually link an example but the best and most concise example I know of is from neil gaiman, so I shall not do that.) As far as authors who love fic and can't read it go, I know that's definitely true of Tamsyn Muir and would wager it's true of many other authors who got their start in fandom/fic spaces (your Noviks, your Rees Brennans, etc.)

personally I think it's also just kinda... a good idea for authors not to get involved in, at the very least, the transformative side of their fandoms. we've seen this pattern play out and disaster ensue time and time again. hell, we're seeing it right now with Yaelokre (tl;dr: creator who got really upset that people are writing smut of their characters, causing a streisand effect in which people wrote a bunch more smut out of spite). For older examples, fanlore's got you covered. (seriously, the more fandom history I learn, the more this "don't read fic of your shit" policy makes sense.)

—G

[morikosa]

that thing is such a horrible person, they just keep assaulting me because they misunderstood my sentence. (and when they realised, they blocked me. such low move. throwing tomatoes.) they only replied to the reblogs which portray them as this vulnerable victim figure and smart-ass, creative 2020 come-back. and when there are reblogs which potentially ruin that image (a valid argument or evidence about them being hostile towards others) they block the person but not without sending them a (questionable) message.

even the original post is not giving because nobody receives those types of message when they just do their stuff. also, they kept bringing up about this post is old and just let it go. like isn’t that your pinned post? you’re not even letting it go so who are you talking to right now? they want to be noticed and painted off as this « morally right » person so baaad.

bro, i’m gonna be so honest with you. that thing is just obsessed with the image it wants to present itself with, a victim and online jesus. it wants, CRAVES validation. it blames others for its own actions and when there is no one to blame, the thing creates problem so it can go back to its nature. i feel so bad for you brooo, you have to deal with that type.

well i mean, the things you write does not define who you are as a person, you’re not « porn addict » lol don’t let that bother. just keep doing your thing if you feel like it honestly. i’m not all up into your business, for me, if i don’t like it, i just scroll through; wish everyone knows that by doing such a simple act they can avoid this whole ruckus and one-sided beef?

like why are you bullying a person just because they are not up to your moral standard? that’s such bs. it’s not even that deep and personal and that thing just go on whole attack mode because of what???

this is too long bro i’m gonna end it here. have a nice one. i hope you never have to deal with those kind of people anymore

Thank you so much for writing; your words made me very happy. It always makes me glad to have someone who understands me ♥

And as for that person, yes. There are always people who support him in his comments because he deletes everyone who says that what he is doing is wrong, all the comments that don't satisfy him, and he insults and blocks them.

This girl's tactic is like this: She provokes dark content writers by insulting their articles, themselves, and their families. Then, the person they insulted gets angry and responds to them, and she takes those responses as screenshots and publishes them on her account like she did to me.

She insulted me so disgusted that he blocked me, so I opened a different account and vented my anger at him (but I didn't say anything as vile as what he said). And “OMG, they insulted me, they called me bisexual, I am the victim here, give me attention, look how bad the dark content writers are,”

And she makes the person they insulted and provoked look bad.

And then she gains attention

She shows herself as a victim just to get attention.

To understand that this girl is a bad person, it is enough to look at the comments she writes. It's normal to dislike an author, but harassing her is a whole different level.

In short, she's nothing but a harassing, attention-seeking freak who makes herself look like an angel. I feel nothing but pity for her fans who support her.

And by the way, it's still hilarious that he calls me a porn addict just because I write smut, LOL.

This is a screencast from my deleted account. As a message, he said I hope you die, you will be harassed (he must like it because you write such things). Etc. Then he blocked me.

Then that account was closed, etc… and so on.

I started everything from scratch by opening this new account and even in this account he found me lol, he blocked me with insults as usual.

This person is such a characterless person.

Thank you so much for taking the time to send me this message, dear. I'm glad you're here; I hope you have an excellent day ♥

I love y'all ♥

[emo-eyemakeup-evildude]

The end of Astorvember 2024!

We have officially made it to the last two days of Astorvember, or as they were called last year AU Days:

29. Defier of Prophecy (Alternate Universes) 30. The Future of Hyrule (Post-Calamity)

As always feel free to engage with the themes literally or figuratively; make a piece of art that depicts the prompt or make a post promoting your own AUs, however you want to engage with the prompts.

Sincere and heartfelt thank you to everyone who participated, whether you made posts, interacted, or lurked. I'm consistently amazed with the longevity, depth, and creativity of this fandom for a little cardboard ratman who was onscreen for five seconds and then died. I have so many plans for the next year, as well as ideas for next year's Astorvember.

Moving on to more zine things, I'm officially extending the submission deadline through February 1st. I want to give everyone plenty of time to complete their new submissions and collect older works to be submitted (I may or may not also be scheming, more info to come). Unfortunately for Astor, November is extremely busy for most folks. I want the zine to have a truly astronomical amount of submissions, so keep them coming!

FAQ under the cut, and thanks again to everyone for making the official second Astorvember so much fun.

Q: What is the maximum number of images per submission? A: No limits for now. The full, digital zine will have much looser limitations (I'm fully prepared to be proven wrong on this, but for now no limits) but for the curated, printed version I ask that you submit a shortened version in the same vein as NSFW works having a censored companion piece for the SFW editions (optional, you can also opt to have your piece removed from certain versions, but no piece will be removed from the full version). As always, no changes will be made without author/artist permission, but keep an eye out for follow up emails. Repetitive or superfluous images may be removed in the event that y'all actually find a number of images I'm unable to handle.

Q: Can I submit digital submissions such as videos and gifs? A: Yes, tentatively. The full, free version of the zine will be published as a PDF, and I may be able to embed gifs, videos, or hyperlinks. Digital extras outside of the main zine were always welcome as a category of submission, so go ahead and submit them. If you want these submissions to be included in the physical zine, please include a thumbnail and summary.

Q: Can I submit a craft to the zine? A: Yes, and there are two ways to do so. You can submit pictures of the craft, and feel free to include a short essay on why you made it, how, when, anything else you'd like to include (under 2500 words). Or you can submit a tutorial for how to make your craft.

Q: Is 2500 words a hard limit? A: No, if your work is a little over go ahead and submit it as is and I'll let you know if it needs to be shortened. The word limit was primarily intended to discourage submissions of full novel-length fics. If you want to submit a fic that's longer than 2500 words, choose your favorite chapter and include where readers can find the rest of it such as links to Tumblr, AO3, or other sites.

Q: I don't have anything serious to submit, can I submit memes/jokes? A: Absolutely! Memes and jokes are more than welcome. As a matter of fact, I would like to write an essay on the top Astor fandom shitpost extravaganzas of the past four years. If you have a favorite Astor meme such as the egg thing (2020) or the egg thing (2024) or Astor Thursday or the White Boy Bracket or any other absurdity, submit it. Include a summary of the event from your POV, where you were when it happened, screenshots, or just what event you would like me to write about.

Q: What can I submit? A: TL;DR writing under 2500 words (ficlets, fic excepts, essays, poems, etc), visual art roughly the size of a half a sheet of printer paper or smaller (drawings, photographs, etc), miscellaneous works such as sheet music, craft tutorials, physical merch, and others subject to approval. Full info above (or here). Submissions are now being accepted until 11:59 pm CDT on February 1st.

Q: How do I submit? A: Email propheciesofdoomzine@yahoo.com and include: -The work's title -The name you would like to be credited as (screen name, url, or nickname preferred over legal name) -Is the work potentially NSFW and if so what content warnings apply Again, more info above (or here).

Q: How many submissions are you looking for? A: As many as y'all got! No limit, go wild.

Q: Can I submit more than one piece? A: Submit as many pieces as you want. Seriously, no limit.

Q: Who can submit works? A: Anyone! Submissions are very specifically and intentionally open to anyone and everyone instead of taking applications and selecting artists to create a piece specifically for the zine.

Q: Can I submit works I've already posted? A: Yes, this zine is intended to be a collection and celebration of the last four years of the fandom. All works are welcome, no matter how old they are or how many people have seen them. This also very much includes pieces from this or last year's Astorvember.

Q: Can I post the piece I submitted? A: Yes, if you want. You can post it, say it was submitted to the zine, post it and don't say it was submitted, or keep the whole thing secret. You can change your mind and post it after submissions close, before the zine is released, whatever you want.

Q: Are original characters/self ships welcome? A: Yes, so many fan works about Astor are full of original characters and the zine would not be complete without them. All original characters are welcome, very specifically including self insert and self ship characters. They are so welcome that we're making a yearbook page dedicated to original characters.

Q: How do I submit an original character to the zine yearbook page? A: Submit a simple school picture style portrait (feel free to make it silly) of your oc with: -Their name -Their relation to Astor (mentor, family, friend, significant other, weird dogs, etc) -The name you would like to be credited as and/or what fic or au they're from if applicable -A senior quote/superlative (if you want) And again, just to be clear, self insert and self ship characters are very much included in this!

Q: Mr. President there's been a second yearbook page. A: So many people have joked about Astor being a mass original character due to his lack of background and character development that if enough people submit the above for their fanon version of Astor we'll do an Oops! All Astors version of the yearbook page.

Q: Will there be physical merch? A: Possibly, still working out logistics. Proposals for physical merch are one of the categories of submissions, email propheciesofdoomzine@yahoo.com with ideas for things like pins, stickers, keychains, etc. Handmade items are welcome and encouraged if you have the time!

Q: Is NSFW content allowed? A: Yes, both art and writing. All submissions that include violence, gore, nudity, sex, etc will be marked as such. In the event that a physical zine is made there will be curated versions including a safe for work version. When you submit your works please include any potential content warnings. We'll be in contact if any works might need additional warnings. That said, no works will be censored. As mentioned above they will be clearly marked in the full version and omitted from the safe for work version. If you would like to submit a censored version of your work for the safe for work version, you may.

Q: I still have a question. A: Send me an ask, a message, email the submissions email, send a flock of birds to follow me around, reach me in my dreams, whatever. If you need something clarified or reiterated, go ahead and ask. If you're unsure about your submission, go ahead and ask. If there's a secret third thing, go ahead and ask.

[theteablogger]

I've recently received a few asks about the liquidation sale happening at the costume shop where Andy used to work. Basically, a combination of factors including the pandemic, the strike, debt, and the sudden death of one of the owners made it impossible for the surviving owner to continue running the business. Now the investors want their money and have demanded that he liquidate the shop's inventory and equipment. Before the sale began, the shop had over 400,000 costumes and items of vintage apparel in its inventory; I'm not sure what's left now. The major concern is that whatever doesn't sell is going to be sold by the pound to the rag house and will most likely end up in landfills. Despite no longer being an employee, Andy has volunteered to handle the social media side of things and is tweeting almost non-stop about the sale.

The sale is legit. Yes, Andy has a decades-long history of lying and catastrophizing, but all of the above is true and has been publicized on various media outlets. I cannot vouch for every detail that he shares about people showing up or not, how much money they need by whatever date, etc., but the basic story as I've summarized above is accurate.

I got one ask from a person who's considering being a remote volunteer for the sale--I don't know whether you want me to publish your tumblr name, so I'll answer here. There's no reason to worry that you'll put any shoppers at risk by volunteering to help with the sale. Andy won't be there and he isn't getting any money from it. You would be the only one potentially at risk, as you have to contact Andy via social media in order to volunteer. I generally advise people not to reach out to Andy, but I also understand your reasons for wanting to help with the sale. Ultimately, it's up to you. Whatever you decide, I would not recommend staying in touch with him once the sale is over.

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | MS47 | Part. 11

Pairing: hamilton!reader (she/her) x mick schumacher

Warnings: curse words, Twitter environment, mention of food, not proofread etc etc. Minors DNI!

summary: Social media is going crazy over every minimum interaction between Yn and Mick, they are ready to take anything the shipper gives.

a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

a/n2: I'm sorry for taking forever to update, I was a bit busy lately, and also kinda unmotivated :(

a/n3: I tried something new this time by adding three different races (Baku, Miami, and Imola), I don't know if the time lapse was easy to grasp, or if it got confused, and I think maybe Tumblr took a bit of the quality of the pictures, but nothing much (but lmk if you felt like it was much). Please, let me know your thoughts so I can post the next chapter sooner <;3

a/n4 (last one, I promise!!): My message app was not working properly and I just wanted to post this as fast as possible, so I used the Twitter dm thingy, did not really like it, but it is what it is sometimes. Sorry, y'all.

part. 10 | series masterlist | part 12 | taglist

theofficialyn added to her story

paddockgossip

liked by user55, hamilton8_, and others

paddockgossip Apparently the pilots and families are enjoying the Florida weather together. The first pic was sent by a follower, rumor has it that it’s Yn Hamilton and Mick Schumacher. The second is a screenshot of her story which confirms to us that she is indeed in Miami and at the beach or at least was. 😏

view all 398 comments

smtimesadness the second pic is Lando Norris, not Mick Schumacher 😂😂

mickynshipper I love them, but I feel better consuming the crumbs they give us them invading their private life like this.

⤷ user90 Idc, they’re both public persons

popyn1 ok but can we talk about Yn friendship with the grid?? She’s casually in a yacht with Lando, gets sugar for Charles, Pierre always comments funny stuff on her posts, and then there’s Mick too (this one Idk if it’s just another good friend and we are projecting, or they’re really dating)

theofficialyn

liked by alex_albon, susiewolff, and others

theofficialyn week’s vibe

view all 6.223 comments

mickyn MICK SHOWING UP TWO TIMES???? 😍😍😍

juridicohamiltons who gave you the flowers on the sixth slide?

⤷ theofficialyn a fan :)

⤷ pierregasly 🤣🤣🤣

⤷ girlbossgasly PIERRE SPILL THE TEA!

fan16_ I know y’all into mickyn train, but I cant stop thinking about how she always posts charles 😭😭😭😭 what if…..? 👁️👄👁️

gina_schumacher 💖💖💖💖 love youuu

⤷ lewisncharles their content is my fav, just two besties vibing

vroom_44 is that you revealing the song Lewis was listening to?

⤷ theofficialyn yes hahah 😝

charles_leclerc I am pretty sure you have better photos of me, yn…..

⤷ theofficialyn 😇💋

⤷ leclercmonza SEE??? ITS TOO SUS

(open the dms pics for better quality)

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mickslover @dalsuwaha (it says no blogger found 😭)

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 1

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: 

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Word Count: 12k+

Genre: and they were ROOMMATES; slowburn; enemies to lovers; enemies to lovers to friends to who knows what the hell they are

Warnings: (most of these are to come and not explicitly taking place in this chapter) 18+ (minors stay away); struggles with anxiety; absent parents; use of drugs and alcohol; sexual situations; etc. *each chapter will include the warnings that you should be aware of as the reader. i promise.* <3

Covet Masterlist

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

a/n: woo! hi all! this is the very first fic that i am publishing for the gvf fandom, so i will admit, that when i say i am a little (very) nervous. . .I MEAN IT. it’s taking a lot for me to share this. . .but, i am so very passionate about this work. i am truly dying to share it with you all. 

this will be a longer, angsty, alternate universe (!!), slooowburn story (you'll have to wait for the ~stuff~, sorry). 

and this chapter is a very long intro chapter. lol. sorry in advance.

i have pictures of the boys that can accompany the chapters, if you're interested in checking those out. . .pictures that aide in showing you what the boys look like as the story goes on. (for anyone interested, the doc will be attached in the notes at the end of the chapter.)

i hope anyone who reads this enjoys this little brain child of mine. it is very special to me and i hope it is received well.

please enjoy! <3

-

Disclaimer: this is absolutely, undoubtedly 110% a work of fiction. i do not claim to know greta van fleet. i do not claim that any of this actually occurred. again, this is a complete work of fiction. And, please, DO NOT steal this work, as it is 110% mine. plagiarism isillegal. and, as our friend google puts it, plagiarism is “illegal if it infringes an author's intellectual property rights.” and, being these words/ideas are my intellectual property rights. . .don’t take them. legal action will be taken if you take credit for any of my work.

-

_ _ _

Covet: to greatly desire, yearn for, or want a person. 

And, on the same hand: to begrudge a person.

_ _ _

Chapter 1

May, 2022

Brooklyn, NY

The sun was shining brightly through the window of the Black and Gold, the cozy and charming record store you worked at in east Brooklyn. 

It was quite the picturesque morning. You had woken with enough time to make a protein smoothie and take a light jog. And after your jog, you were decently sweaty and you’d still had enough time on the clock to take a relatively long shower afterwards. 

Now, you were at the B&G, and you had about ten minutes before the shop opened. Today would be a busy one, so you took advantage of the calm before the storm. 

You were using this time to sit behind the work computer and browse Amazon. You were on the hunt for a cute little cat tree. Today, you would be adopting a sweet feline that you’d recently inquired about from a nearby shelter. As soon as you got off work, you were set to pick her up. 

You could hear the birds chirping so beautifully outside to welcome the spring day. You were glad you were opening the shop this morning. Anytime you opened, it felt so overwhelmingly relaxing and safe. 

And, it felt even better to be working the opening shift on the very first day of your summer vacation. You sighed in relief of your summer officially beginning.

Your junior year of college had finally finished. It had absolutely been the most draining of your undergraduate years so far. So, you welcomed today gladly and openly. It was refreshing. You could actually breathe again.

It was very nearly the same refreshing feeling you always had when you finished with classes. That feeling of relief and finality that could compare to little else. 

But, as much as you loved summer, you really did love school. You loved being a college girl and taking the proper steps to eventually live out your dream. There really was no question about how much you loved college. Everyday was spent pursuing your passion for writing to eventually become an author – it had been everything you’d ever wanted. Truly. 

But, you were human. A human with anxiety at that. So, you loved times of peace and low stress. 

Now, all you’d have to worry about was: reading and writing in your spare time; seeing your wonderful grandparents more often; and getting to hang out with Josh. 

You grinned when you thought of the goofy, curly-headed man. 

Josh Kiszka was your best friend in the city. You had been close for a few years. You had met each other at the Black and Gold about three years ago when you first walked into the record shop, asking if they were hiring. He had been the manager on duty that day. He’d taken little time that day to find the proper application for you to fill out, and had basically hired you on the spot. Now that you were so closely friends with him, that instance was so characteristically Josh, it brought another small smile to your face. 

You began your job here almost as soon as you graduated high school. Your grandparents hadn’t allowed you to have a job in the city while you were still an ‘impressionable’ high schooler. Though, as soon as you turned eighteen and you walked the stage, diploma in hand, you bet your ass you started seeking out record stores to work for in the city. You loved music as much as you loved to write, so a record store was the only viable job option, in your opinion. 

You had been determined to have a job nailed down before you ever stepped onto the campus of the Pratt Institute. Pratt had been the object of your desire ever since your sophomore year of high school when your sister, Elsie, who was then still a junior, had decided to attend there to maintain a degree in journalism. 

Then, last year, you had watched Elsie so gracefully cross the stage and switch her tassel from one side to the other at that very Institute. She had given you a double thumbs-up and one of the dumb little faces you two would often exchange. And in that moment, you’d been so proud to have followed in her footsteps. She was your closest confidant, Josh coming in second. 

While you both attended school, she had been your roommate. The summer before freshman year, you’d moved all of your necessary belongings into the apartment your grandparents had chosen for her the year prior. Living with her had been what all dreams were made of. It had been the two of you against the world – just like always.

But, last May, when she graduated, she’d officially left you. She had started traveling the world to be the best journalist the world would ever see. (You were, admittedly, a bit biased, but almost everyone who knew her knew what a fantastic writer she was.)

She was a hard worker, and as genetics would have it, so were you. You always had been the hardest worker in your class. You’d been a straight-A student as far back as you could remember. Your senior year of high school, all of your teachers had been beyond thrilled to write recommendation letters for you to submit with your application to Pratt. 

Your teachers had waited with you, on baited breath, to receive the acceptance letter. 

You had waited a few (long) months to receive the letter that answered every prayer imaginable. Pratt’d accepted you, and it was history from there.

You had then gotten your job here, at the Black and Gold, moved in with your sister to her apartment, and started school that August. You had decided several years prior that anywhere you went, you’d major in writing and minor in music (the latter falling under ‘media studies’ at Pratt).

And, even though you missed your sister, living alone had been an almost exhilarating experience for the past year. You were able to live life for you and you alone. It was wonderful. And, now, you were almost done with school, on your way to becoming an author. 

And you had a cat on the way. 

Life simply couldn’t get any better. 

🌼  🌼  🌼

Like you knew it would be, this Friday in the shop had been a busy one. Everyone on this side of Brooklyn knew you got shipment in on Thursdays, and Josh always featured the best records to lure customers in further.

You weren’t unhappy to see all of the customers, though. You loved people. You loved getting to see regulars and meet new people. As did Josh. 

At this moment, there was a lady in front of you both, asking if the record she was holding was ‘worth a shot’. It had been one that Josh had deemed appropriate for the ‘Featured Wall’ (a pegged wall with display hooks for the vinyl). Naturally, he was ready to talk it up. It was a film score. Of course.

“Now, this one is quite exquisite,” Josh said, in his mature voice, he held the vinyl with one hand. His other hand was flourishing as he spoke. “You see, this film was filled with such sorrow and heartache, but redemption all the same – the music from the feature reflects just that. It’s stupendous, really.”

Of course, the woman instantly became convinced. He had such a way of talking to people. Charisma was the word for it. You admired that about him. Though, there were many qualities you admired about the man. You could hardly begin to list them all. 

You could easily say that being a good friend topped the list of wonderful things about him. 

He had been the main person (besides your sister) that you turned to when you needed to talk for the past three years. But now that she was gone? He’d essentially been all you’d had for the past year. And you had already kind of known this about him, but the past year had taught you that he was easily the most empathetic person you’d ever met.

You loved Josh and you were always trying your hardest to be the kind of friend to him that he consistently was to you.

He checked the woman’s vinyl out for her, talking her ear off the whole time. He laughed at the right times, showing he was listening intently to every word she said. He had a way of drawing people in to him, and this older woman was no different. 

As she left, he started talking to you, still facing the register, making sure to balance it after that transaction. 

“I haven’t even had time to ask you,” he turned to you after closing the drawer. “How has your first official day of summer vacation been?”

You put a finger to your chin, pretending to think deeply at the question. You scrunched your lips to one side to add to the effect.

He chuckled at you, his eyes becoming soft.  “You are so endearing, Y/N,” he gave you a look and a raise of his brow, a smolder on his face. “But not quite as endearing as that sister of yours.”

You laughed at that. Josh was a mess for Elsie. Since the first time she’d dropped lunch off for you at the shop, and he’d seen her that very first time – he’d been hooked. You were pretty sure he had actually drooled a little. 

He’d been quite vocal about her to you, but you knew he thought he didn’t stand a chance. He believed she was completely out of his league. He was truly besotted by her. 

“Well, let’s see, I’m –.”

“I’m ready!” The excited person at the register, who donned three original presses, was a regular. She was a young, mousy, high-school aged girl named Stacy. She had an appreciation for all things vintage. You and Josh both liked her a lot for her individuality. 

You made a quick conversation with her, asking if she was out for summer yet. She sadly replied that she wasn’t, but she was ‘so ready to be.’ You grinned, telling her you totally understood.

She flitted out the door as soon as she’d appeared, and you turned to Josh, ready to continue. Though, the thing you were most excited for was what you decided to mention first.

“I’m getting my cat today!”

He opened his mouth wide, all of his teeth showing. He raised his hands above his head in excitement, lifting to his toes a little as well. He felt every ounce of joy that you did, you could tell. 

“Your landlord gave the okay?” he asked, surprised, lowering back to earth with you.

Your landlord could be a pain in the ass at times, but at the end of the day, you had a way with people, like Josh. And, you had gotten your way when you had asked so very sweetly. You might have pulled the “I feel so alone since my sister left” card . . . but you really wanted a cat. And it wasn’t a complete lie. You did occasionally long for someone to keep you company. And a cat could do just that. 

“Of course,” you scoffed, as if the question was absurd. Then you gave a little grin. “Who could say no to the sweet little thing that is me?” You have a hair flip, adding to the bit.

“I never tell you this, but your humility is your best trait,” he remarked.

You both laughed at that. 

“And your quiet demeanor is yours,” you gave a cheeky grin that he returned. 

It was that grin of his where his dimple showed, and more of his gums showed than his teeth. 

“What are you naming it?”

“Her,” you corrected. “And I’m naming her Stevie.”

“Nicks or Wonder?”

“Wonder,” you stated, as if it was even a question. 

“Why did I even ask?” You both shook your heads, grinning at each other. “I love it, Y/N. It fits you.”

You decided to change the subject to him and his life.  “How has your filmmaking been going?” 

Josh loved film, and his ultimate dream was to be a director. He loved music, but not quite to the same degree as film.

“It’s alright,” he shrugged. Then, you could practically see the lightbulb gleam above his head, his eyes brightened with the imaginary bulb. “That reminds me! Could you, pretty please, with the reddest cherry on top, ask Elsie if she’d be in one of my upcoming projects?”

“Josh, she’s hardly in town,” you feign offense with an exaggerated hand to your heart and a gasp. “And what about me? Am I chopped liver? We do share the same genetics, my friend.”

“Y/N. She is my muse,” he gave you the funniest look of desperation. “Please.”

You conceded. You knew as soon as he asked you that you would talk to her about it. Of course you would. It was Josh and you’d do anything for him. 

“Of course, Joshua,” you pinched his cheek and ruffled the curls that sat atop his head. The beads of his headband that laid against his neck shook as you did so. “Anything for you.”

He literally leapt with joy at that. And you knew the smile that was on his face wouldn’t leave for hours. You wished you could enamour someone in the way Josh was so enamored by your sister. That was a trait of hers you had been jealous of for years – she drew people in. Just like Josh drew people in.

You loved people, yes, but you weren’t this grand lamp that drew in all of the people around you like moths to a flame. 

You longed for the day a guy would think of you the way Josh thought of her. 

He continued, “Anyway, I am just so exci–.”

His eyebrows scrunched as his phone started blaring I Will Survive in his pocket, he got it out and his eyes squinted even harder as he looked at the wide screen. 

He never got calls during work. Josh’s entire family knew his schedule. His brother Sam and their friend Danny were his roommates, so they knew. And, Josh talked to his mom so much. Like, they talked so often you simply knew that she knew what he had for lunch every single day. She obviously knew he was busy, which translated to his father knowing. And his sister was overseas, pursuing a degree.

“Everything okay?” you questioned, curiosity lacing your tone as his brows stayed knitted.

He shook his head, as if shaking himself from his daze. “Yeah, I just never–,” he shook his head again, his eyes widening as he slid his pointer finger across the screen. Josh held his phone like your grandpa held his, almost unsure of the smart device. He held the phone to his ear suddenly.  His lips set in a pursed line, and his jaw clenched as the other person started talking. Then, as if he forgot you were standing there, already engaged in the cellular conversation, he looked at you suddenly. Then, he mouthed an “I’ve gotta take this,” and headed outside. He placed himself outside the shop in a way you couldn’t see him and your interest grew tenfold. 

Who could it possibly be?

🌼 🌼 🌼

Minutes ticked by. The sun had sunk just a tad bit lower in the sky. And, you had checked out countless customers who all seemed to finish making their selections at the same. time. 

You knew Josh had seen them all leave in a steady flow, bags in hand. On a normal day, he would have taken that as his cue to come back in and help you. But, he hadn’t come back in. Instead, he’d stayed out of sight, outside the store. You checked the clock that hung behind the cash register. 

He’d been outside for thirty minutes. Damn. 

You needed to leave in about an hour to get your cat. 

He’d better be back in by then, you thought slightly grumpily. You knew your irritation wasn’t necessarily warranted. You knew if he was still outside, it was serious. At this point, you were more fuelled by your spirit of inquiry than anything else. You just wanted to know what was going on on the other side of Josh’s iPhone. 

Finally, about five minutes later, he stomped back in. Josh never stomped. He usually glided. 

Well. Now you wondered even more what the matter was. His face read dread and a healthy tinge of anger.

Before you could turn to him to ask your burning questions, a customer came up. You hurriedly checked him out, barely making conversation. At this point, you were more worried for your frazzled friend than making polite conversation with a stranger. And, again, that’s why people were drawn to Josh and not you. He wouldn’t have let his personal issues change his interactions with those around him.

Except now, he faced away from the store, back slightly hunched as he stared out the massive window behind the register. His arms were crossed, indicating even more that he was in deep thought.

As soon as you’d placed the customer’s record in one of the gold bags that were associated with your store, you turned to Josh. He was now teetering back and forth on his ropey sandals, his hand continuously raking through his once-perfectly-tousled curls. Now, the curls on his head matched the nervous energy he was exuding. 

He was angled away from you, in his own world.

“Josh?” You were quiet, both for the benefit of the few customers in the store and your friend’s obvious distress. You stepped the couple of steps it took to be closer to him. You placed a hand on his arm, hoping your calm tone and the delicate gesture would communicate your concern. 

He seemed to boost just the slightest bit at your touch. He turned his head in your direction, yet his eyes stayed planted to the happenings occurring outside the window. He was watching people. You knew he was surely doing so to latch on to one of their happy feelings, and feel that instead of the obvious anguish that was overtaking him. 

His eyes met yours finally. You knew your eyes widened a bit when you saw his. Had he been crying? His eyes were a bit puffy, a tinge red and so sullen. You were definitely taken aback. Josh radiated joy almost always. . .this was a new emotion of his for you to experience. He hardly let bad things affect him, as he was always determined to find the bright side of things. And the joy he’d had when you two had last talked only forty minutes ago, was gone. His mouth was a flat frown. 

“It’s–,” he cleared his throat, his voice having been laced with emotion he didn’t seem ready to show. “It’s my brother.”

Your heart started racing, all things that could possibly be wrong were suddenly wrong in your mind. What had happened? 

“Oh no, Josh,” your hand squeezed his arm, you moved closer, hoping your proximity may help him. “Sam? What-what happened?” 

Josh shook his head, the strings that tied his beaded headband together in the back shaking slightly. “No. Not Sam,” he scratched at his eyebrow with a finger, his eyes still looking concerned underneath them. “Jake.”

You internally slapped yourself for not thinking of Jake before. To be fair, he never called Josh. He lived in Illinois, living a completely separate life from his twin. But, how could you have forgotten about Josh’s literal twin? Josh brought him up in conversation from time to time, but he was just so far away. You never thought of him.

Now you understood why he was so downtrodden. You knew twin telepathy was real. If you hadn’t known before you’d become friends with Josh, you surely did now. Josh had explained his beliefs about it many times before. You had absolutely no doubts he was feeling every emotion Jake was feeling in this moment. An empathetic twin? You couldn’t begin to imagine the weight. 

You suddenly had to know what was going on – even more than you’d needed to before. You shook your head, letting your hand fall from Josh’s arm and giving him some space to feel what he was feeling. “He never calls you,” you stated the first thing that you’d thought. “What did he need–,” you checked your slightly accusatory tone. Not the time, Y/N. “I mean, what happened to him?”

You were honestly kind of scared for his response.

“His, um, his girlfriend–,” Josh’s eyebrows drew together in anger. “No–his ex-girlfriend. She–,” he held a clenched fist to his mouth, and you saw tears gather in his eyes. “She cheated on him.”

You stepped back once, slightly shocked. Josh was this distressed over a breakup? 

You tried to keep your tone understanding. “Oh no,” you tried, really.

“Yeah,” he rubbed his forehead, just below the headband. He sniffed the tears away. His eyes lightened a bit. Just a bit. It seemed to have lifted off of his shoulders a bit. Maybe it was because he’d finally stated it out loud, and the emotions were finally able to come out of his body. He wasn’t holding onto the entirety of it anymore. He looked down again. “I can’t, no– actually, I can,” he nodded to himself, a heinous smirk on his face. “I can believe she’d–,” he scoffed haughtily.

You were doing your best to follow along. But if he continued with broken-up sentences, you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep up. “Yeah?”

He finally snapped out of his daze even more and locked his eyes with yours. He seemed to remember where he was, his eyes tracing the establishment quickly, to make sure customers were alright and no one was nearby. Then, he looked back at you. 

“I know it seems a little ridiculous,” he stated. “To be so upset over a break-up. But, this girl. Jake, he–,” Josh swallowed an obvious knot that had blossomed in his throat at saying his twin’s name. “Jake followed her to that stupid ass college of hers when we graduated and– he was so selfless. So selfless, Y/N. I can’t believe she’d be so selfish. She basically spit in my brother’s face.”

Your eyebrows knit together. You didn’t know much about Jake, so hearing all of this was incredibly interesting to you, to say the least. You were sipping on some piping hot tea while also learning of a mystery person who shared the same DNA as your best friend. 

He continued. “Actually, I think it’s worse than spitting in one’s face,” he scoffed, his tongue curling in his mouth, his dimple showing for an emotion completely opposite of joy. “She kicked him so hard. . .he is bleeding. And I can’t–,” more tears gathered in his eyes. Oh no. Josh tears were surely going to make your tears spring soon, and you didn’t like showing those. 

“You can’t what, Josh?” you urged, trying to push the conversation forward, past the pauses that could cause the waterworks. 

He looked you in the eyes, his eyes so sad. “He is leaving there asap, and I can’t take him in,” a tear left his right eye. “And I refuse to let him go back to our hometown. He is better than that. I want him–no, I need him here with me.”

Josh’s tone was more serious than you’d ever heard it. You didn’t want to peep a word, you wanted him to continue what he was saying. But, you had to ask. Though, you knew the answer. You were denying what you already knew you had to do.

“Why can’t you take him in?” you pondered.

“Landlord was already iffy about me moving Sammy and Danny in when they came to town,” he placed both hands over his face, smoothing them down to his cheeks. “My apartment was a strictly two-person apartment and somehow my landlord let me squeeze a third one in there. He wouldn’t ever let me have more than that. I could ask, I guess, but getting shot down right now would seriously kill me,” a tear fell from his eye. “But Jake can’t afford his own place right now. He’s been working the worst jobs down there. Terrible income.”

Your heart beat erratically in your chest. You knew what you had to do. You knew it the moment you asked him why he couldn’t take in another person. You’d been to Josh’s apartment. The three boys really were kind of squeezed into that apartment, but they made it work better than most people could. How they did it, you didn’t know. But, you did know what you had to offer. 

“He can stay with me.”

“What?” his eyes widened to the point of you wondering if they’d bulge out of his head. He looked like that one emoji who was on the verge of tears, due to gratefulness. “Y/N, you couldn’t possibly be serious.”

Before you said anything else, you quickly contemplated it once more. You didn’t know the guy. You literally forgot that he existed for a moment today. And you were about to take him in. What in the hell did you just offer? You internally berated yourself for questioning your decision when you looked at Josh again, though. His eyes were so wide, so gracious, so kind. You had wanted to be the friend that Josh deserved for a long time. You knew your decision. 

“Yes, Josh,” you gave him a small, hesitant smile. “He can stay with me for a while.”

Josh looked more than appreciative, but he had a question in his eye. You immediately knew it as foreboding guilt. “Y/N, I did not mean to make you think that you had to–.”

“I know,” you smiled a wider, more genuine smile now. “That’s why I offered,” you reached out to grab his arm again. “You would do it for me.”

He would. You could feel your eyes well with emotion and his did the same. Before you knew it, he was grasping you so tightly, like you were his lifeline. He said thank you’s and you have no idea what this means to me’s more times than you could count. 

You hugged him tighter to you. You really would do anything for him. 

Even if it meant taking in a stranger.

But– Jake wasn’t really a stranger. Well, he was. He was a person you had never even looked at in your life, so he was a stranger. You wouldn’t know him if you saw him across the street. 

(You hadn’t frequently been to Josh’s apartment and the photos you had seen on his phone were terribly shaky at best.)

The more you thought, maybe you would recognize him from a distance. He was Josh’s twin, after all. But for the life of you, you couldn’t remember ever seeing a picture of him. Maybe he looked just like Josh.

Maybe he would be just like Josh. He’d called him selfless, after all. And Josh was the most selfless person you knew, besides your grandparents. 

You had to convince yourself that you hadn’t just made one of (if not the) most impulsive decisions in your life. 

Instead, you just hugged Josh even tighter to you, remembering that his happiness and calmness was what mattered right now, most of all. 

🌼 🌼 🌼

It had been a week since you’d made the most drastic (and mindless) decision of your life.

Josh had decided it would take about a week for Jake to get his stuff together and get here. 

So, the day was here for him to move in. 

You had wanted to quiz Josh as much as you possibly could during the week that was leading up to this chaotic decision, but you hadn’t had the chance. Josh had only been at the record store the day after you had offered your apartment up. Then, he had left in his little beat-up car. Followed along by Sammy and Danny in a small U-Haul to pick up his (their) other brother. 

You weren’t sure how Josh’s little humpty dumpty car was going to make the nearly-fifteen-hour trip. You were sure, however, that that thing was set to burst into flames at any given moment. The brown rust that had overtaken the majority of the metal on the car, the paint that was chipped so badly you could hardly tell what the original color of the car had been. And then there were the terrible fumes that came from the exhaust. . . Blech. Even just thinking about it, you had to physically shake your head to rid yourself of the smell as you thought of it.

It was that one car that, if you had your windows rolled down at a stoplight next to it, you rolled your windows back up as quickly as you possibly could. 

You politely refused to ride in that thing, seeing as you didn’t want to ride passenger in a ticking time bomb. But, you loved how much Josh loved the car. 

It had come all the way from Frankenmuth, Michigan with him when he moved to the city years ago, and he seemed bound and determined to drive it until the old, rusty wheels fell off.

You brought yourself out of your thoughts and went to get the vacuum out of the coat closet. You rolled it out by its squeaky wheels and tended to the hallway and bedrooms first. You gave them all at least three sweeps, giving the guest room an extra. Living room was next.

You were so nervous to show a complete stranger your apartment. You wanted to make a good impression, and you needed Jake to know that you were a person who liked things kept clean. You’d known ever since you offered your place up last week, that you would wind up deep-cleaning the entire apartment at some point during the week. 

And, due to the busyness that could only be described as summertime at the Black and Gold, you were just now getting to it. It seemed that everyone on this side of New York was always suddenly inspired to grow their record collections during the summer time. You thought it was maybe due to the sunshine and the generally carefree nature of summer that brought a sense of melancholy and nostalgia to everyone, including yourself. Summer could simply be viewed as an opportunity to live life rather than go about your days in constant routine and mindless motions. 

You had been scheduled to work the morning of this cloud-ridden Friday, but you had personally requested to only work the morning so you could prepare your apartment for your burgeoning guest the second part of the day. 

You looked around your cozy apartment, a hand on your hip to ground your exhausted body. You were proud of your work. You then looked at the gold clock that hung next to the front door. It was just now 5:14 p.m. on the dot, and your apartment was basically sparkling. The only thing you really had left to do was vacuum the living room. 

So, you ran your vacuum over the carpet of your living room. And, after giving it at least four complete sweeps, you gave it one last once over. You decided it was as good as it was going to get. As you put away the vacuum, you wondered how close Josh and the guys were.

He had called you earlier that day to inform you that they had been more than halfway back. That was around 10 a.m. At that point, he’d thought they would be arriving around 6:30 or 7 that evening. You checked the clock on the wall again, and realized the minute hand hadn’t moved at all for the past fifteen-ish minutes. You crinkled your brows. Then, your stomach fell to your feet. 

You raced over to your phone on the counter, almost tripping over Stevie. You apologized to her, as if your walking had caused a real inconvenience to her. She had barely budged in your rushed stumble.

When you’d picked her up, the humane society had sworn she had some of the Ragdoll breed in her. With her bright blue eyes and fluffy combined white and light gray fur. So, being you, you’d researched the breed. She held true to many positive traits of the breed. Though, one you’d learned that she inhabited, was how she did the ‘cat flop’ so frequently. A very Ragdoll-esque thing to do. And, it was more cute than anything, honestly. 

You got to your iPhone and pressed your finger to the screen of your phone, lighting it up.

5 missed calls from Josh. 3 text messages from Josh. 

And it was 6:05 p.m.

“Well, shit,” you mumbled frustratedly to yourself. You rubbed your forehead, a light sheen of sweat coming off on your hand. You opened your phone to read his texts.

Josh, 5:02 p.m.: We are about 1 hr and some change away

Josh, 5:30 p.m.: Stuck in traffic :/ 

Josh, 5:55 p.m.: You ok???

And then you noticed the missed calls had come in a string. You had actually just missed the last one, it having come in at six o’clock on the dot.

You suddenly took notice of the fact that you could feel the sticky sweat in your armpits and decided you had to take a shower. You gave him a quick response.

You, 6:06 p.m.: Where are you now? I’ve gotta hop in the shower. Lost track of time. Ugh

He responded instantaneously. 

Josh, 6:06 p.m.: Lol it’s ok. We are still about 30 minutes away

Josh, 6:06 p.m.: IM GLAD YOURE OK!!!!!

You smiled to yourself, and quickly sent a smiley emoji back in response. You were about to take the fastest shower of your life. Taking your phone with you to keep better track of time, you hurriedly went to the closet that held the washer and dryer at the end of the hallway. You set the dryer to run an air dry cycle on the guest room sheets. You simultaneously stripped your clothes and threw them in the hamper that sat in the laundry room. 

Then, you headed to the bathroom to (very) quickly scrub down.

🌼 🌼 🌼

As you got out of the shower, you crossed to the white, laminate countertop that held the sink, and tapped the screen of your phone to view the time. 

It was only 6:15 p.m. You had managed to take a shower and shave your legs in a span of less than ten minutes.

Hell yeah. 

You didn’t even wrap the towel around your body as you normally would have. You didn’t want to dirty a new one, and you decided you’d take a quick moment to commemorate the time you’d had living alone. You let yourself air dry as you ran as fast as possible, stark naked, to your bedroom. You were hoping the faster the speed, the quicker your body would dry. 

Once you made the not-so-long trek to your bedroom, you opened the drawers you’d need to use from the beautiful, vintage, white chest of drawers your sister had left behind for you to keep. You two had gone thrifting one day your freshman year, and she’d found it first, so she’d gotten dibs. It had only been fair for you to inherit the piece of furniture, considering her new profession would have her in no one place for too long. 

You quickly got a pair of underwear and a sports bra out, sliding them on slightly slowly due to the adhesive your body had created from the still-drying water. 

You chose a pair of black jean shorts for your bottoms, opting against any long pants as you knew the material would only stick to your legs uncomfortably. Then, you chose the dark, mossy green tank top you saw lying atop all of the others in your drawer of tanks and tees.

You gave yourself a quick look in the mirror that was attached to the chest. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed by the cute outfit that was made in record time. It was simple, but it was cute. 

You grabbed the gold necklace that held your first initial from the dresser in front of you, clasping it around your neck.

Good job thinking on the spot, Y/N. And, being the (admittedly) weird person you were, you gave yourself a quick little pat on the back for all the work you’d done so far today, including the outfit decision. A few water droplets landed on your hand from your hair that was steadily leaking onto your tank-top, already creating an ugly wet spot on the back of the shirt. 

You poked the screen of your iPhone, seeing the newest text from Josh as you slid the screen to unlock it.

Josh, 6:17 p.m.: We just dropped Daniel and Samuel off at our place. 

Josh, 6:17 p.m.: They had plans with a couple of girls tonight. 

Josh, 6:18 p.m.: Soooooo it will just be Jacob and myself

Josh, 6:18 p.m.: We are like 5 min away btw

You didn’t always understand Josh sending multiple texts in a row rather than just combining them all into one. It was a silly thing he did that you found slightly chaotic, but that made it very Josh. He would send the thoughts as they came to him. Just as he said whatever thought may pop into his mind if you were to be talking to him in person.

You spared no time as you brushed through your sopping wet hair with the ever-present brush that sat atop the chest of drawers. Water flung from the ends, onto your back, and onto the rest of your bedroom as you quickly brushed. You grabbed the claw clip nearest to you and made a quick twist of your hair. Then, at the back of your head, you secured it with the claw clip. Good enough.

You pinched your cheeks, adding some life to them. You had, so far, opted for a foundation-free summer. You were trying to give your skin a break. Though, you did slap a couple layers of mascara on. You did have the decency to want to look presentable for your about-to-be roommate.

Your phone screen read that it was 6:22. They would be here any–.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

Josh’s signature series of knocks. You could swear he added a little flair every time he knocked on your apartment’s door. If it made any sense, the knocks seemed to get a little more zesty every time he visited your home. 

You walked quickly to the front door, scanning the apartment again as you walked through it. You were very proud of how it looked. You grabbed the candle striker that sat behind a picture on an end table and lit the maple pancakes scented candle that sat on the same table. You wanted to add to the cozy feeling you wanted for your apartment. 

You wanted Jake to feel welcomed.

As you went to open the door, you heard the same knocks start up again. You rolled your eyes at your friend’s blatant impatience. 

As you opened the door, a piece of hair fell from your up-do, onto your face. It made you momentarily close your eyes as it tickled your eyelashes. You puffed it out and away from your face with a breath. You tucked it behind your ear, and your eyes opened to see Josh’s smile. 

It seemed to be a smile that said, ‘I’m sorry in advance.’

You gave him a smile of encouragement. Surely Josh was just on edge, probably from feeling so much stress and emotion for the past week. 

Then, you saw movement behind Josh, your breath caught in your throat. 

Oh. 

You weren’t expecting Josh’s identical twin to look so different from him right off the bat. Did they look similar? Yes. You could definitely tell that they were twins, but Jake was just different from Josh. 

His tanned skin was like Josh. But, you initially noticed their differences more than similarities.

His hair was longer than Josh’s. It was wavy rather than exhibiting the springy curls as Josh’s did. Where Josh’s hair indicated buoyancy, Jake’s hair showed an alluring appeal. You suddenly wanted to run your fingers through it. 

Okay, stop it, Y/N.

But, then, the amber-brown eyes that looked past his brother and into the apartment caught your attention before you were able to stop it. They stopped you. They were like Josh’s, but you hadn’t ever cared to notice the perfect mixture of color in Josh’s eyes before. But when it came to Jake’s? Apparently his eyes held a special kind of drug that you couldn’t help but be lured in by. They held a strange sense of something you’d never known you’d needed. 

You just couldn’t quite place your finger on what void it was these eyes filled. 

It was Josh’s voice that snapped you out of your daze. “Y/N?”

When you came to, you realized he was waving a hand in front of your face. 

Well.

That was embarrassing as hell. Your first interaction with your brand new roommate had you in a trance that you literally had to be brought out of with a calling of your name and a gesture. You would have slapped your forehead if you wanted to humiliate yourself any more, but you really didn’t want to add more fuel to the flame in your now-rosy cheeks. You could feel them burning hot. 

You caught Josh’s eyes first as you snapped out of your trance. Afraid to lose yourself in his twin’s eyes again, you held Josh’s as you introduced yourself to this new person. Josh’s eyes were safe. Admittedly, it was weird for you to stare at Josh as you introduced yourself to his brother, but.

“I’m–.”

“This is Y/N, Jake,” Josh introduced you. You shared a small smile with your best friend, silently thanking him for saving you from any more awkwardness. The dimple in his cheek showed as he gave you his close-mouthed smile. “Y/N, this is Jake.”

You forced yourself to look at him, out of politeness. 

Although, when you looked at him this time, you realized he wasn’t holding any sort of smile on his face. His eyes weren’t showing warmth, as Josh’s almost always did. He was looking at you with a stone-cold face. No emotion seemed to show. 

“Hi,” his jaw was clenched in his greeting. 

“Hey! Welcome to New Yor–.”

“Can we unload the U-Haul now?” He was looking at Josh when he said it, as if he hadn’t even been trying to listen to you. 

Suddenly you weren’t anywhere near a trance-like state anymore. Instead, you wanted to roll your eyes at his childish greeting and his inability to show you respect. It was almost like he was a child being forced to apologize for something, when in all actuality, he was being allowed the opportunity to stay with you. Could he act like an adult? You were being one by allowing him this opportunity. It felt as though you were pushing yourself outside of your comfort zone for him. 

Well, to be fair, it was mostly for Josh’s sake.

You decided to ignore it. Perhaps he was just awkward when meeting new people. God knows you had already been awkward in your own way. 

“Uh– um, yeah,” you clumsily responded. “Let’s go ahead and get started.”

🌼 🌼 🌼

The three of you had almost finished unloading the U-Haul. He hadn’t brought much, really. It had not taken long at all to get this moving truck nearly empty. There were only a few boxes and a couple of guitar cases left, near the front of the truck. 

Josh and Jake had unloaded heavier things, allowing you the opportunity to take in some of the smaller things. 

One of the things you’d enjoyed carrying in the most had been the majority of his record collection. You had thoroughly appreciated the mass amount of boxes that included vinyl. You had nosily picked through them as you had dropped off each box to his room. 

You had instantly been a fan of the Cream and Eric Clapton you’d come across. You loved good ‘ol Rock ‘n’ Roll. 

He didn’t seem to share quite the same amount of love for soul as Josh did, though you still noticed enough of the blues to make you smile. Even if he was awkward with new people, his music taste was something of worth. You even saw a few duplicates of records you already owned. Although, there were enough albums that you didn’t own that you also admired his taste in that capacity. You did have quite the expansive collection.

As you passed through the living room, ready to continue to help, you passed the guys. Each of them were carrying a couple of boxes, chattering away about something. You wanted to know what they were talking about, you wanted to include yourself in an easy conversation with your new roommate. But you knew you shouldn’t interrupt, so you went about your business helping. 

When you made it back to the U-Haul, you saw the twins had pushed what was left to the front of the truck. You only noticed two beat-up guitar cases were left. You went ahead and decided you’d be the hero of the day by carrying in the last of the things he’d brought. Maybe it would show him how helpful you were. How you liked to help people. 

All things considered, offering up a room in your apartment to a perfect stranger should show that, but you were an overachiever, okay? 

And maybe this one thing would be the key to him opening up to you. 

As you reached both hands out for the cases, another hand slapped one of your hands away. 

What the hell?

You turned to see Jake. His eyebrows were scrunched, his eyes annoyed. 

Again, what even?

“I can get these, okay?” he sighed, seemingly put-out. 

You didn’t pass up that opportunity to roll your eyes at him. You hadn’t meant to, truly. But you just couldn’t help the natural response to his ungrateful attitude that marred the two interactions you had had with him so far. 

“Well–,” you stopped yourself from saying anything. You forced yourself to put things in perspective. “Okay.” 

You stepped back, watching as he grasped the handles of each worn, leather case. You followed him up the stairs as he carried them. You were not going to offer to help. You just decided to keep to yourself as you thought it all through.

The longing for normal decency was grating on you. It pissed you off when people couldn’t be generally kind. You knew the irony considering how you had just rolled your eyes at him. Though, you were different from him. You had tried to be nice and fair and decent. You were giving him a place to live, for God’s sake. 

The little spark of empathy that lit up in you saw its way through to your heart and you remembered. You remembered how distraught Josh had been at this upheaval in Jake’s life. Surely that meant something. Jake really was going through a lot. 

This–this was all so new for him. It was a whole lot of new. New city. Completely new life. He was saying hello to so much, but saying goodbye to even more. 

As soon as you made it back into the apartment, you found your way to Josh. 

Thankfully, you hadn’t had to walk behind Jake for long. His fast walking up the stairs was helpful. He had seemed absolutely desperate to get away from you.

Josh was leaning against the back of the couch, writing something in his notebook that stayed almost permanently in his back pocket. It was for his musings, the little thoughts he got that inspired more. You never really questioned it, just admired his love to write. 

You situated yourself next to him. As you did so, he closed the notebook, putting it back in his pocket. He put the pen he’d been using back in the cup on your kitchen countertop. You had deemed it Josh’s pen awhile back. It was his favorite. He claimed it wrote smoother than the others. 

“Josh,” you knew your tone communicated some of your worry.

He wrapped an arm around you, and you leaned into it. You loved how he just always seemed to know. 

“He’s going through a lot, Y/N,” he said quietly, then kissed the side of your head. He said the next words even more quietly than the previous ones. “And I should have warned you. . .he acts like an ass when his emotions are all over the place. He doesn’t know how to handle them like I do.”

You chuckled. And you didn’t even have to see him to see his smug, joking smirk. Josh snickered along with you, laughing at his own words. You laid your head on his shoulder, so glad he was there to alleviate the growing tension in your shoulders. 

And all too soon, the grim reaper was coming out of his bedroom. He pushed a hand through the wavy hair that touched just below his shoulders. You wished you didn’t notice how it fell so perfectly as he pushed it back.

Jake seemed restless as he cleared his throat. “Do you have shee–?”

“Sheets!” You left Josh’s grasp to go get the sheets out of the dryer. 

They were still warm from being in the closed dryer when you piled them up in your arms. You cursed yourself for forgetting to get them out of the dryer. Ugh. You didn’t need him judging you for your lack of thinking to do so.

You passed by the boys, who were once again in deep conversation, as you speed-walked to the guest – no, Jake’s– bedroom. You plopped the sheets on the bed, a ruffled mess of linens. You made quick work of adjusting the fitted sheet to your liking, the loose sheet falling swiftly on top. You tucked all of the corners just right. Then, you got into the bedroom’s little closet and grabbed the white quilt that had stayed up there since you’d last used and washed it. It had been waiting to be used again for a whole year. 

Once you’d situated the bed with its pillows and all of its pieces, you took a moment to consider something. What you’d signed yourself up for. How different this was going to be from living with Elsie. Things were going to be so different. 

For one, he was a guy. You had never been roommates with a man before. Even more, you hadn’t ever been roommates with anyone but Elsie. And she was your sister. And with her being your sister (and first best friend), there had been nothing but ease and comfort. And, so far, all you had with Jake was tight perplexity and irritation. And just plain tension. 

You closed your eyes to the suddenly overwhelming brightness of the room. You rolled your shoulders around, your neck moving along with the action. You wanted to alleviate some of the tightness that was already taking up residence in your upper back and neck. 

You felt Stevie rub herself up against your bare leg. Her soft fur and loud purring calmed you in its own special way. You smiled to yourself. The sweet little feline had used her week of knowing you to make one big place for herself in your heart. She seemed to automatically know you on first meeting and had already shown you so much love. She had shown a few times that week that she was a cuddly girl who simply lived for being in your presence. 

Although, you felt her leave your legs sooner than you’d anticipated. You opened your eyes in curiosity, watching her cross the room from your legs to Jake’s belongings. She rubbed herself against the boxes and then against the guitar cases – no, no, no. 

“Stevie,” you hushed at her. “Let’s not mess with his things.”

You scooped her up quickly, her body going slack in your arms, her purring reverberating through your chest. You assumed it wasn’t the best option for the cat to rub against the blessed cases. What was on the inside of those cases had to be special. The cases themselves really did look like they’d seen better days. Silver duct tape was the only thing that held certain parts of them together. 

You left his bedroom, finding the twins, still conversing. 

You didn’t want to stop their talking, but. You didn’t want to feel like an outlier in your own home. You were already afraid enough of what was to come with Jake being a constant presence. You just wanted to feel like you were in some type of control. 

“The bed is made,” you interrupted them. Both of their heads turned to you. Josh’s more so. Your best friend looked at you with kind eyes and Jake’s face barely changed. His head was barely turned to you, really. It was almost as if he had tuned you out.

“Thanks,” he said more to Josh than to you. He then fully placed his attention back on his twin, seeming to try to shut you out again. 

Josh continued to look at you, so it was a weird lull. The air around you three was pulled taut with tension. You didn’t know what to say. You and Josh held eye contact while Jake burnt a hole into the shaved side of his brother’s head with his eyes. 

What. the. actual. fuck?!

It was obvious Jake didn’t want you included in anything. All you could conclude was that he was simply being an idiot. It was going to be a very rude awakening when he suddenly remembered you two were going to be roommates. He’d have to live with you. You were going to be there, whether he liked it or not. . .until he eventually was secure enough to (hopefully sooner rather than later) move out. 

You could not wrap your mind around how elementary he was acting, considering how you were uplifting your entire life, unnecessarily, on his behalf. Again, more for Josh’s sake than his. . . But still. 

Not the point. 

This was your home and he was not respecting you enough within the walls of it. Your eyes pleaded with Josh to do something. 

Jake pulled his phone out of his back pocket, suddenly interested in the smart device. He leaned against the back of the couch, leisurely playing a game on his phone. He was now ignoring you and Josh both. 

Finally, Josh spoke, “Let’s order some Hibachi to-go, shall we?” 

Jake responded before you could with a dense “sure.”

“That sounds wonderful,” you put on a bigger, genuine smile of thanks to Josh for thinking of food. 

You really were hungry. Perhaps Jake was hungry too. That could have been part of the reason he had been acting like a complete crab. Your stomach suddenly felt emptier than it had before and you were anxious for Josh to order.

“You know what I want,” you pointed an airgun his way, shooting it dorkily. He laughed along with you. You were glad that even though his twin was an ass, Josh was still the same as he always was.

“Same,” Jake again, dull as ever. Could he not speak more than five words in a row? Were compound sentences simply too much for his brain?

Josh nodded, sending a smile your way. His eyes read an apology. It really wasn’t his place to apologize. Still, you were positive it was as close as you’d ever get to Jake apologizing. So, you accepted it, winking in response.

He held up his phone. “I’ve just gotta go call it in,” he crossed to the small fire escape right outside of the French doors in your living room. 

You watched with desperate eyes as he left you with his wretched brother. 

You knew better than to try conversation, but still – you did. 

“So,” you began, walking slightly closer to Jake, who was still leaning against the back of your sofa, playing the game that had him so suddenly entranced. “How is New York so far?”

He didn’t respond, only continuing to play his game. You waited for him to look up at you with a sort of “oh, yeah, sorry! It’s been alright”, but he never did. His fingers ticked across his screen. You were admittedly curious what game it was that had him so engaged. 

Maybe he hadn’t heard you. 

The benefit of the doubt was certainly trying hard to save your sanity. 

“How’s New York?”

You had to strain to hear his response, it was only a simple, aggravated “mhm” hummed in response. It was an obvious tactic that you remembered using as a teenager. It was that response that every teenager frustratedly used to get their parents (or, in your case, grandparents) off their back. 

But how in the hell were you being a bother to him? You stepped closer to him once more, but this time when you did, he glanced up at you and then swerved around the couch, eyes staying on the phone as much as they could. Then, before you could step any closer to him, you turned around the couch, following him. 

You were tired of his attitude. You weren’t going to put up with his shit any more today. You understood this was hard for him – all of the change, his broken heart, yada yada yada. But you had made up your mind that you deserved more of a response from this man. You were getting ready to rip him a new one when – 

“It’ll be here in 30 minutes!” Josh’s joyful tone died a bit at the end of the statement.

As soon as he was fully back in the living room, you could tell that he was absolutely sensing the energy reverberating in the room. He was still slipping his phone into the back pocket of his brown corduroy pants as his eyes sprung back and forth between his brother and you. 

Josh’s jaw clenched. He was nervous, that much was obvious. You knew the man very well. 

So, he did his ‘make it better’ empath thing and clapped his hands together, which brought both sets of eyes to him. 

“Whaddya say the three of us watch a movie?”

🌼 🌼 🌼

The food was delivered and completely scarfed down by the three of you. 

You had all been very hungry. 

But, the best part of eating? It was the fact that the not-talking thing was more natural than it had been before. There were no conversations to cut off or be left out of. . .because, your faces were being stuffed.

Before the food had gotten there, you had gladly taken up Josh’s offer to start a movie. He had chosen The Shining (one of his go-tos). This had also aided in making the social atmosphere (or lack there-of) less awkward. 

Things had actually felt peaceful enough for you to lull off right after little Danny saw the two creepy twin girls in the hallway of the haunted hotel.  

🌼 🌼 🌼

You felt yourself slowly come to, but as you did, you heard the twins talking in quiet conversation. Their voices were hushed, seemingly to avoid waking you. 

And, as wrong as it may have been, you absolutely took that moment as your opportunity to eavesdrop like you’d wanted to earlier. 

You kept your eyes closed, working to keep your breathing steady as if you were still in a slumber. You were a sort of pro at the ‘faking being asleep’ thing. For reference, you had been a bookworm for as long as you could remember. So, as a child, you had mastered the skill of feigning sleep when your grandparents would come to check on you at night. Every time, you had actually been reading—never one to put a book down. (To your knowledge, your grandparents had never seemed privy to you being up late reading when you were supposed to be asleep.)

Your head was on Josh’s shoulder, so you had to work especially hard to control your breathing. You knew that if you had even one breath slightly off, he would notice. He was so much like you in being oversensitive to his surroundings. 

You let your ears fade into the conversation. 

It was Josh’s voice you heard first. 

“You need to give this a chance, Jake,” he sighed, and you could feel his body move slightly. It felt like the arm on the other side of his body was moving, probably to scrub a hand over his face. “She was so kind to offer her apartment to you.”

Thank you for pointing that out, Joshua, you thought. I love you.

“I’m not oblivious to that, Josh. Jesus,” Jake sighed, similarly to his twin. But his involved a bit of a grunt, as if he were pouting. “We are just too different.”

“How do you know the two of you are so different?” 

It took a minute for Jake to come up with his answer.

“Well, for one: she has fucking twinkle lights,” you could hear a couple of bracelets clang against each other, as if a hand of his was waving above you all. It was true, you had twinkle lights hanging in the living room. You enjoyed the cozy feel they brought with them. 

“I have twinkle lights,” Josh’s response sounded slightly offended. Because, yes, he had twinkle lights adorning his apartment as well. To be fair, he, Sam, and Danny had them hanging around their apartment.

“Not the same, Josh.”

The fuck? How is that not the same? This man was insane. 

“You two are more alike than you think, Jake. Seriously.”

Alike, Josh?! You’re going to say I’m like him?! Your thoughts were going haywire. 

You couldn’t believe he would compare you to his asinine brother. 

“I’m uncomfortable here,” Jake sounded slightly hesitant, kind of sad. “I’m already uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable? That word hit you deep in the chest. 

What had you possibly done to make him uncomfortable? You always tried so hard to do the opposite, in every situation life handed you. 

Your heart sank. You were a natural helper. You prided yourself on it. You had been complimented on it many times, by several people in your life. You were honestly known for how great you were at helping those around you. This whole ‘allowing Jake to move in with you’ was on brand for you, if you were being honest.

You tried so hard to help people feel secure and ‘okay’ that his discomfort made your stomach churn. The last thing you needed was a roommate who didn’t find you helpful or warm. You were surely already in the midst of an identity crisis. 

And, you hadn’t even spent one whole night with this man in your home. 

Nothing you could do would make him like you, you were sure of it. 

At this point, you had tuned them both out. You didn’t feel like getting hurt anymore by Jake and his short, spiteful sentences.

You listened to the metal pull switch ding lightly against the ceiling fan’s light fixture. The fan was old and rickety and you needed a new one. 

These mindless thoughts saved you from the windy road your mind was creating, thanks to the one and only Jake Kiszka. 

And his simple sentences.

🌼 🌼 🌼

The arm you were lying against moved just right and it nudged you awake. 

“Oh,” Josh immediately noticed you were awake. He sounded apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to– I wanted you to get some sleep.”

You blinked your eyes open slowly, only looking up to Josh from where you were still leaning. You didn’t want to chance locking eyes with his evil twin. 

But you decided to be the mature one and sit up, even if it meant seeing Jake. 

Unfortunately, you were going to have to get used to seeing him. You honestly dreaded it. Greatly.

As you sat up, you looked around the room. Jake was nowhere to be found. 

Thank God.

“He went to bed,” Josh commented. “He needed sleep.”

You shook your head. 

He needs more than sleep, you haughtily thought. 

“I think I want to go to bed, too.”

Josh helped you shut off the lights in the apartment. You blew out the candle you’d lit earlier. You watched as the black smoke rose from the candle. 

It was one of the candle scents that you and your sister had always lit to make the apartment feel like a home to all. 

Your stomach flipped in circles. You wanted to be sick. All you had worked to do was make your apartment welcoming, friendly, cozy, safe. And apparently all you’d achieved so far was making your new housemate feel uncomfortable.

You couldn’t watch the smoke anymore, feeling tears well in your eyes. You swallowed down any other tears that you felt approaching in your throat. It was stupid to cry over an asshole like Jake. 

His words didn’t matter.

You scooped up Stevie, who had been sweeping her soft little body against your shins. She knew you needed her. 

You felt the tears well again. 

You faced away from Josh, not wanting him to see your watery eyes. You walked to your bedroom, not even looking in the direction of the apartment’s other bedroom. 

You knew he was following you to your bedroom because you knew Josh. He would do his best to see to it that you were doing better before he left you. 

You knew he could sense something was wrong with you. He knew you so well that you knew it had been obvious to him all night. And now, you knew you were being uncharacteristically quiet. 

As soon as the door shut behind him, you tucked yourself under the soft duvet on your bed. You lifted the covers up to your chin and laid your head down on your pillow. You knew you probably looked absolutely pathetic.

You didn’t care.

He sat on top of the covers next to where you laid. He smoothed a hand over your head and you felt Stevie situate her warm body next to your feet. You had become convinced that it was her favorite spot to lay at night. 

He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, and hummed slightly. He scrunched up the left side of his face, his lips squishing together and an eye crinkling as he did so. He seemed to be pondering a thought. 

You knew he wouldn’t speak until you were ready to talk, though. Until you made a move to discuss something. Josh was good about that. He gave you your time to feel things. Even when Elsie moved out, as much as it broke his heart to see her leave, he didn’t say anything about it. He had let you have your time to feel without bringing it up. 

He had done it many times when big things had happened in your life. 

You needed his advice though. 

“This may sound naive, Josh, but I expected him to be more like you,” you paused for a second, and chose to look away from him with your next words. “He acted like an arrogant prick all night as I tried to welcome him into my apartment. The apartment I offered for him to stay in during his time of need – don’t forget.”

You knew you were taking some of your snippiness out on Josh when it was absolutely not his fault. But, you couldn’t very well say these things to Jake. 

Well, you could. You just hadn’t had the chance yet. 

And for some reason, you had suddenly decided that you wanted Jake to see that you were the bigger person in all of this. It should mean nothing for him to see you in a positive light. He was the last person who deserved it. But, killing with kindness could be good revenge. 

Josh knew you and knew that your snappy attitude was due to being so hurt already. He knew you felt your feelings to an incredible degree. He got it because he did, too. You knew all of this. 

Josh still had a pensive look on his smooth features. His brows were knitted, lips still squished as he thought through what he wanted to say.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he eventually said.

You waited a few beats for him to say more. And when he decided to look straight ahead instead of at you, you got impatient. 

“That’s it?” You sat up on your elbows, eyeing your curly-headed friend. 

“I–,” he stopped, contemplating. “I just can’t get into it. All I can say is that you’ve gotta give him time.”

You scoffed at him. “Give him time?” You shook your head, looking around your room. The lights were still on, neither of you thinking to turn them off. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Y/N.”

“Joshua.”

He sighed, rubbing his finger and thumb over his forehead. It was obvious he was rubbing to alleviate the stress you were causing him and you instantly felt bad – for another reason entirely. Jake was not his fault. He might have been his twin, but it had become glaringly obvious that they were quite different. And Jake’s assholery was not Josh’s burden to bear. 

“I’m sorry, Josh,” you relented some of your anger. You knew Josh was feeling a lot at that moment and you didn’t want to put one more thing on his already-full emotional tray. He was an empath, after all, and today had surely tested his limits.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not upset with you for feeling the way you’re feeling,” he looked at you again. He put a hand on your comforter-covered thigh, squeezing it slightly. “I just–it’s hard for me when I love you both so much and know the potential of a friendship that could blossom between the two of you if he wasn’t–,” he placed a palm to his forehead. “He’s being rude, yes, but he is going through so much. I know I’ve said it already, but that's all I know to say. I can’t be the one to explain the whole reason why. It’s not my story. It’s his.”

You worded your previous thoughts aloud, “He isn’t your burden to bear and neither am I.”

He grinned slightly, lifting his cheek enough to actually show his dimple. But his eyes were still forlorn. “I appreciate that, love.”

You knew your words hadn’t been the most comforting, but you were emotionally exhausted from the day and you just couldn’t put complete thoughts together anymore. The sleep was finally weighing you down, and you struggled to keep your eyes open in Josh’s direction. There was no talking, just stillness. It was nice. It was much needed for both of you after the night. 

Comfortable silence. 

He went in and kissed your cheek. 

Your relationship with Josh was completely platonic, but you were both people who communicated through touch. And considering how it was Josh’s main love language, it was natural for the two of you to be affectionate with little touches. 

“It will all work out,” he said, breaking the silence. “You can trust that he is a good person underneath the hardened exterior.”

You huffed a laugh under your breath, your eyes drooping. Your lids were entirely too heavy. “I trust you, Josh. But, I’ll have to give him time to prove himself,” you felt yourself nod off a bit –just for a second. You blinked your eyes open as wide as you could to look at him, feeling bad that you were losing to sleep. “I’m just not too hopeful he will.”

He hummed, surely in thought. “I’ll let you go to sleep,” he gave your thigh a final squeeze. “Goodnight, lovely friend.”

You were almost completely in slumberland, but could tell when he lifted off the bed. You squinted your eyes, refusing to let sleep evade you. You just wanted to rest. You could see through your half-lidded eyes when he turned off the lights. 

You listened as he left through the front door. And you heard him lock the regular lock and deadbolt with his key. 

Your last thoughts as you fell asleep were of the last wonderful days alone you’d had in your apartment. 

So long, peaceful home. 

So long, normality.

_ _ _

notes:

here is the doc that will have pics added to it as the story progresses!

i really hope you enjoyed this first chapter of Covet! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future chapters.

taglist: @joshym @gretavanfleetposts

[olderthannetfic]

How does one get considered by a major publisher? Is it just luck and the people you know? I can’t imagine they’re willing to look at everything that gets sent to them.

--

This is something that's actually pretty easy to research. I don't keep on top of it because I'm not interested in pursuing this, but I can give some basics.

There are hundreds of publications and blogs and agents' and publishing professionals' own social media accounts that talk about this.

You have to look it up imprint by imprint. Most of the time, in the current day, the imprints people really want to get published with don't accept unagented submissions. The open slush pile is a thing of the past many places.

Agents, however, often do accept unsolicited manuscripts, and they're frequently the first step for people trying to break in. There are various books and indexes where you can look up who's in business, who's looking for submissions, and what kind of content they cover.

Knowing people can certainly help, but new authors do break in all the time without nepotism or industry ties.

I don't think luck has much to do with it.

There's luck involved in those rare cases where someone is picked up by the first agent they approach, the agent is able to successfully sell the book right away, and it goes on to be a bestseller.

But most authors' success stories involve a number of years of sending their manuscripts around to various agents while writing more. That's not luck: that's perseverance.

I suppose there's some luck in happening to have tastes and strengths suited to whatever is trendy right now, but if you're envisioning a long-term career as a writer, even that won't be consistent.

--

As for how you get out of the slush pile...

Write a complete manuscript that is ready to publish as-is in terms of plot, pacing, and characterization.

Proofread it extensively.

Format it in the requested manner. (Could vary by agent/venue.)

Send it to an agent/venue that actually covers the genre/subject matter in your manuscript.

You would be surprised at just how many people don't follow any of these suggestions.

They think it's the publisher's job to be their beta reader and do extensive plot and style revisions with them, but in the modern day, most types of publishing don't have the time or money for that. They're going to proofread you and change your punctuation to house style. They might do more, but that's the most you can rely on.

If there is anything in your manuscript you wouldn't want to see on bookstore shelves today, fix it.

The others are even worse. People are always sending poetry books to fiction imprints and fiction to nonfiction ones, etc. Or they write three chapters because that's what submissions call for but don't have the rest of the book ready when an agent is finally interested. Or the first paragraph is littered with typos.

Basic professionalism like with any job interview goes far.

--

We all like to joke about all the total crap that does end up getting published, and yes, sometimes if you're already a celebrity or you happen to hit a trend just right or you're great at marketing yourself and have connections, that can be you.

But writing a really good book still works.

A lot of the time, people who are actually writing publishing-ready manuscripts and lots of them who submit to publishers for 10 years will eventually break in. People who stop after one manuscript or a dozen submissions generally won't.