#+ I'd like to give some love back to the community that pretty much shaped me as a person
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..WELL! Everybody ELSE seems to be doing it,
...and there ARE a lot of Narrator (& Stanley) designs I've been meaning to try and, at the very least, DOODLE,,,;
SO--!!
SEND IN YOUR NARRATORS, STANLEYS, CURATORS, TIMEKEEPERS & WHATEVER WONDERFUL DESIGNS YOU MAY HAVE IN YOUR POSSESSION, BOYS (/GN) & I'LL DO MY UPMOST VERY BESTEST BEST TO DRAW AND/OR DOODLE THEM!!!!
Though I will apologize for if getting all of them done and dusted takes longer than expected. But I'm WILLING to TRY!!
GO CRAZY!!!
#Sitting at my little booth & tapping my silly fingers on the surface#I may or may not regret this#but its also a GREAT chance to possibly see Narrator designs I may of never even SEEN before#+ I'd like to give some love back to the community that pretty much shaped me as a person#YOU'RE ALL SO LOVELY AND ASTOUNDINGLY TALENTED!!!!#GNAWS AT THE BARS OF MY STUPID LITTLE ENCLOSURE#tsp#the stanley parable#tspud narrator#tsp narrator#berri rambles about shit#tsp requests#art requests
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Um, hi. I'm human, and not a regular listener, so apologies if I'm overstepping, but I asked a friend of mine for help with this already. He said it was above his paygrade and to ask you.
So, like I said, I'm human, and so are my parents, grandparents, and pretty much all my family. And for the first ten years of my life, I thought my sister was too. When she was sixteen, she started wearing long pants and hats all the time, and we all thought it was a fashion choice. A weird one, but at least she wasn't trying to dye her hair with Kool-Aid or pierce her ears with a sewing needle and an ice cube. But then the hat came off on accident. And then my parents saw her horns. I still remember the way they yelled at her before they kicked her out. I still remember the way I just sat on the stairs, being scared for my big sister but not wanting to interfere because what if our parents turned on me, as well?
I recently moved to the city for work. It's a nice place, and there's a park near my flat. There's this woman who walks her dog in the evenings through the park, and by "this woman" I mean my sister. Well, I haven't actually spoken to her about it, but my sister has a rather distinctive birthmark on her left cheek, shaped kind of like a crescent moon. The woman does too. Her hair is shorter, her horns are longer, and she's got a tail, but there's no way she isn't my sister.
I want to reach out to her, I really do. But I'm scared of what she'll think of me. I didn't help her back when I was ten, and I can't fully blame myself for that - I was ten. But even now, I haven't cut off my parents for what they did to my sister. I still go to family dinner with them every other Sunday. They were horrible to her and I'll never forgive them for that, but they're my parents and I still love them.
Is there a way I can ever get my big sister back?
I first want to reassure you that you're perfectly welcome here, reader. You aren't the first sapio to write in to us, not by a long shot, and I sincerely hope you won't be the last.
I also want to take a moment to address a rather throw-away comment in your letter. You say you “can't fully blame yourself” for not acting in your sister's interests when you were a child. Reader, I don't see that you can blame yourself at all. I hope you can find a way to work through any lingering feelings of guilt about what happened back then.
As to your question, I think you need to think very carefully about what you want to gain from reaching out to your sister, and how you will feel if your attempts to reconnect don't go as well as you would hope. There are a few questions I'd like you to consider before making any attempts to reach out.
Your sister has built an entire life for herself independent of you and your parents. Are you able to meet her in that life, and take her as she is – whoever she is, now? Or is some part of you hoping she will slot simply and unproblematically back into your life?
You say you want “your big sister back”. I'm sorry but the person who was your sister when you were 10 simply doesn't exist any more, any more than your 10 year old self does. She has grown and changed, and you need to be sure you want to meet the woman she's become, not only the memory of the girl she was.
I also encourage you to reflect on whether you're ready for the reality of being a sibling to someone in the community. You were raised by people so entrenched in anti-creature beliefs that they abandoned their own child when they discovered her liminal nature. It takes time and effort to be able to show up for your friends and family in the creature community without trailing those ideas in with you.
If, after careful reflection, you decide you still want to reach out to her, I recommend giving her as much room as possible. Approaching her while she's walking her dog is one thing, but that is not the time to spring an entire reconciliation on her. You can introduce yourself, and either give her your contact details or write what you want to say in a letter for her to read when she is emotionally prepared.
I understand that you love your parents, and are able to remain in a relationship with them despite their social and political views. That isn't a failing on your part – it's the reality of love. We all have to make our own minds up about what we are willing to tolerate, and how, and when, and from whom. Your sister also has the right to decide who she shares her life with – even if that decision is hurtful to you.
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Behind the Seams: Part III
Welcome to the first instalment of Behind the Seams! Thank you everyone who has responded so positively to this slightly self-indulgent idea I had. I know I take so long in between chapters, this seems like a fun way to keep you guys in the loop, and also to keep myself motivated and productive while I work by sharing my thoughts as I go.
This time, I'll be rambling about focusing on the characters as I'm still in the thick of developing personalities and interpretations in the Seams universe, and I'd love to put all the thoughts that have been rattling around my brain into words to help me process it.
I will be tagging these posts as 'behind the seams' together with the chapter number 'seams iii' so you can filter this out if you don't want to see them! For those who are interested, let's dive in below the cut!
Current status: 3.2k written, fully outlined rough draft with most of the dialogue drafted.
Initial thoughts: This chapter wrote far more easily than I expected to so far. Each story is different, but I tend to find the 3rd to 5th chapters hardest to write, when you're building up the shape of the arc of the whole series.
I'm still keeping my options open with regards to what Seams is or can be, but I'm still thinking 'loose fit series' i.e. there won't be a solid, overarching story arc or ending to the series since it's not a plot-driven story. It will be interesting to see if my approach changes after a couple more chapters!
The challenge: The first two instalments were so hyper-zoomed in on Joel and Pin, I knew that the challenge for this chapter is pulling back the camera and seeing how they interact with each other outside the safety of the Outfitters, and how they fit into the wider community.
Joel and Pin: I was re-reading Threads in preparation for writing Part III, and what strikes me is that these two really don't know a lot about one another. They've barely had a fully formed conversation despite the forced proximity and some very charged moments in the last two chapters. I've tentatively written most of their dialogue in this chapter, and it's interesting that a couple of times, I've stopped myself and thought - is this too playful for a shy person like Pin? Is it too familiar with two people who are practically strangers, despite their chemistry? It's a balance that I'll have to find as I edit, and I'm excited to see how it turns out.
Tommy: For some reason, Tommy comes fairly easily to me, a testament to Pedro and Gabriel’s chemistry on screen. Without giving too much away, I'm really happy with the angle I found for Joel and Tommy in this chapter. There's a lot to unpack between the two brothers, but the happy occasion means that I can focus on the good part of their relationship for now. However, I am keeping the tensions in their history in my back pocket because I don't want to gloss over the very real and three-dimensional relationship we saw in the series.
Ellie: I've talked about how I'm nervous about writing Ellie. My Pedro boys are all lone wolves - sure they have their best friends (Teak to Palomino!Jack, Santi to Grays!Frankie, Pete/Rebecca to Consent!Dieter), but Ellie is Joel's kid, and she's part of his life more than any BFF is to my other Pedro boys. Luckily, I have found an in with Ellie that I think works well with the story in Part III, and also fits in with the broader direction of the fic. It's going to be nerve-wrecking, but I'm ready to write her into Seams!
Tess: I'm not in a place to say too much yet about Tess, but it's so important to me that she isn't erased from the Seams universe despite her not being there. I've been thinking a lot about Tess lately, about how she will fit into the story, how Joel will fit Pin into his and in relation to Tess. There are no easy answers, and it will be something to mull over in the next few chapters.
Something fun: Ok, all this character stuff is pretty heavy, so I want to end on a light-hearted note - Joel's tummy makes a cameo in a white undervest 😌
And that's it for Behind the Seams: Part III! I feel a lot lighter having found a space for all the things I have been thinking about while drafting the chapter. I hope this was a fun deep dive for you guys as well, I'll be hitting Google Docs hard this weekend to try to get all of the writing done for Part III so that I can start editing next week. My askbox is always open if anyone wants to chat 🥰
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Pancake mornings
Blades of Light and Shadow 2
Pairing: Mal Volari X f!mc (Autumn Nightbloom)
Rating: Teen
Word count: 650
Summary: Mal tries his hand at making Heroes of Morella pancakes ... and Autumn considers more legitimate career choices for her handsome rogue.
Autumn awakens to the sweet smell of pancakes and peals of laughter coming up from the kitchen two floors below. She smiles at the novelty of normalcy. Something she never thought she’d have again.
Of course, there was still work to do. She and her friends continued to travel the newly merged realm to help the communities rebuild and fight off all manner of shadow beasts and fantastic creatures. But there were also moments of calm in-between, which she relished. She spent most of those weeks with Mal at the orphanage, making time to catch up with Nia, visiting friends, and Kade, when he wasn’t off to Zaradun with Cherta. Though she kept her room at the Palace, a standing invitation by King Arlan for the Saviour of the Realm, Autumn had pretty much moved into Mal’s cozy attic room.
She slips out of bed and quickly dresses, making her way downstairs towards the joyful ruckus.
“Morning, kit!” Mal calls out from the stove, flipping pancakes dangerously high into the air, to the delight of a dozen beaming kids gathered around.
“Morning, handsome.” She sidles next to him and places a soft kiss on his cheek. “Whatcha cooking up?”
“I call these my Heroes of Morella pancakes!” He proudly declares, to squeals of excited laughter from several kids.
She looks at a growing pile of deformed – faces? Some with elongated ears, others with points resembling horns, others just formless masses – and snorts. “Well, these certainly won’t win you any talent contests. Though I’ll give you points for originality, your magnificence.”
“Hey! I’d like to see you try to do better.” He mock-pouts.
“Sure thing. Watch and learn.” She smirks and grabs a ladle, dropping a dollop of batter onto the hot pan. She concentrates her magic, shaping the sizzling pancake into a perfect nesper shape.
“Oh, come on! That’s cheating!” Mal splutters, scandalized.
“And since when are you concerned about cheating, my handsome scoundrel?” She smirks mischievously, starting a new pile with her perfectly shaped pancakes.
"Since I'm not the one doing it!"
“I want Autumn’s pancakes! They’re so pretty.” “Me too!” “Me too!” The kids clutter around the counter, ooh-ing and ah-ing at Autumn’s growing pile of perfectly shaped heroes and nespers.
Mal huffs vexedly but relents with a magnanimous bow, “You seem to have won this battle, my fair lady.”
“oh, but you had the brilliant idea, so I say we share in the spoils of victory this time.” She sneaks a quick kiss, a promise of more to come.
He grins at her cockily, pressing himself against her back and whispering in her ear “That, I can get behind.”
“Mal!” She bats at him, eyes wide, and distracts herself with plating batches of pancakes for the anxiously waiting children.
Soon, the kids are settled around the dining table, munching away at their hero pancakes in a boisterous cacophony of talks and laughter. Autumn slips back to the kitchen and into Mal’s arms, hugging him lightly. He returns the embrace, sighing contentedly.
“Any plans today?”
“Well, I’ve gotten word that our dear friend Lord Thurgood has recently 'procured' a sword from a temple that belonged to the shadow realm. Apparently, it’s got some engravings that may or may not predate the Elven civilization.” He catches her scandalized look and adds on quickly “… for research purposes! It’s rumored to have magical properties… I’m sure Nia and elf boy would love to examine it.”
“And once they’re done researching…”
“Weeeeell… it’ll be worth a pretty penny.”
“Mal! Do I have to remind you how your last heist in Thurgood manor nearly ended in disaster?”
“Eh! I'd say it ended pretty good, considering I made it out with the statue and … made out with you.” He smirks devilishly, stealing a heated kiss.
Autumn sighs, biting her lower lip to hide an amused smile. “You know, Mal, as a hero of the realm, you should really think about other more legitimate avenues of employment.”
“… Such as…?”
“I mean you’re a pretty good cook, when you’re not trying to get creative with your pancakes.”
“I have to be, since you’re so godawful at it!” He smirks, tempering the criticism with a loving kiss.
“Well, I can’t be good at everything. But you could work at the bakery with Vivi.”
“Hmm… kneading dough all day, kind of like this…?” He grabs her waist, bringing her flush against him and lowers his hands to massage her backside, earning a soft moan.
"Well you are very good with your hands..." she trails off, kissing lightly down his neck.
"I love my sister and Vivi, don't get me wrong, kit, but I doubt they'd enjoy seeing me everyday."
"Well you're great with a weapon - for fighting!" she quickly specifies, growing scarlet at his suggestive leer. "You could join the Whitetower guards."
"Autumn, my love, the king may have absolved me of my past crimes, but I can promise you the Whitetower guards remember me very well, and we're not exactly on the friendliest of terms... any other brilliant ideas, kit?"
She looks up at him, pondering, then sighs.
"Okay your magnificence, at what time are we headed over to Thurgood Manor tonight?"
Mal flashes her a dazzling grin, draping an arm across her shoulders as he walks her into the dining room.
"Well, see, I was thinking we could sneak in right at the change of guard..."
Autumn smiles to herself. Normalcy, with just a dash of danger and adventure. This, to her, was perfection.
#blades of light and shadow#playchoices#mal volari#bolas#blades of light and shadow 2#choices#bolas 2#mal volari x mc#blades fanfic#choices fanfiction#choices fanfic#choices stories you play#mal x mc
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Hello there! I hope you don't mind this, but from the moment I first opened up Merry Crisis, the whole medium of IF has occupied a not insignificant amount of my headspace, introducing me to something I could never have imagined before. If I may ask, what first got you set into IF, and if someone was considering trying to get into the medium, what would you tell them?
Ahh!!! You're already really set on the writing/craft part (I love the stuff on your blog!) So I'll dive right into IFs as a medium and how I feel it feels different from writing fiction + advice I guess? (Below the cut)
If you'd like me to point you to specific resources and sites to get started on the actual coding, let me know!
Here's a short list: @manonamora-if has some great resources, brushmen on YouTube has some good choicescript tutorials, the choicescript website and twine cookbook have some pretty robust documentation on how to use the various scripts, and Emily short's blog has some more intellectual discussion of narrative.
SCOPE
I write pretty quickly but even then, I realized that the branching in IFs means that even short ideas become long and unwieldy pretty quickly. If I could go back and give myself advice, I'd be a lot more disciplined about starting small and contained.
2. BRANCHING
Branching (or having diff choices lead to diff scenes) is pretty much the heart of IF (vs. traditional fiction). Striking the right balance i.e. Providing enough branches for rich variation and the feeling of player agency while balancing against over-expanding the game beyond what's sustainable is super important!
Completely non-convergent branches are rare in IFs (i.e. writing essentially 2 different stories depending on a choice). Instead, two main ways to achieve branching are: (a) different scenes that eventually converge back into a main path, and (b) stat trackers that trigger different texts/scenes.
3. STATS
There are various ways to do stats: (a) numerical (if stat x > 10) (b) simple text (if stat x is "dislike") and (c) true/false (if stat x is true). I usually use numerical stats if more nuance is needed (e.g. for tennis skills), I also use it for relationship bars but am increasingly finding that it might be more elegant to use (b) to make the game remember significant moments and choices in relationships with characters.
(B) is my go-to for most other types of stats because of its versatility. (C) is for the simplest stats, and can sometimes be all you need (e.g. has MC kissed someone. Is MC selected to play singles etc.)
4. CODING
Whether to use choicescript or twine can be a big decision that determines how the IF eventually shapes up, because I think the first coding avenue you go down usually becomes a "first language" of sorts--what you tend to find most intuitive/familiar.
Personally I think choicescript is easier and faster to learn and lets you publish under the hosted games label (where there may be a ready made community/target audience). But twine allows for a LOT more functions, customization of the UI/look and feel of the game and also it's open source so you can self publish.
5. GAME VS STORY
I think ultimately depending on genre, IFs can feel very much like a game (e.g. the great tournament), with management of stats, success/fail checks, D&D-esque in nature, or like a story (e.g. branching is mainly in creating multiple layers of the overall narrative, there's more focus on dialogue and characters and development arcs etc.) Or it could be a balance of both.
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hey Amy, I wish your doing well..
I wanted to ask you for an advice.
I am not really self conscious about my body and my body image and how much I weight, but I am not really confident in my body either. In the last month or two I have gained weight not much but it was my first time seeing that number on the scale, I am fine with it and I am accepting it because it was final exams season and I was under so much stress so I am going easy on myself. And so was my Daddy, he has been supporting, didnt make me feel bad about it. But he said after you are done with your finals you will eat better and lose the extra weight, it was like him caring for me rather than him saying that as an order. I do agree that I wanna get in shape better, eat better and exercise to just get me back on check. Now that I am done with my finals, I was telling him about me being thick and that a pair of pants got so tight on me and he responded with yes you are thick and you "need" to lose a little bit of weight. The way he said it made me upset, that he said I "need" to. I honestly don't know if am a little overreacting or not, can you advise me on how to communicate better in such situations..
PS he isn't toxic and he isn't controlling and he loves my body and always supports me, this our 1st incident regarding my weight at all..
Hi Anon,
I think it's super understandable that you feel hurt by what he said even if he didn't mean it negatively at all.
Like you, I don't see myself as having body-image issues in general. I feel really privileged for that.
And yet...I know I would still have a really negative reaction if anyone told me they thought I needed to lose weight. In a lot of ways, that coming from your partner makes it extra painful, I'd think.
I can't tell for sure from your ask if he was basically giving his opinion of what he thinks you should do, or if he was saying that you eating better and losing weight would be something he's imposing on you as your dom. If it was the latter, I personally really disagree with that. I just think weight loss is something that should not be brought into D/s. I think eating healthier can maybe be okay in some D/s dynamics but I think that should only happen if it's coming from the sub.
For lots of things, I think it's okay for the dom to propose rules or expectations. Of course, the sub would still have to agree to those ideas for them to be implemented. But eating, diet, exercise, etc are one of the areas where I think rules or expectations should only be brought into D/s if they are suggested by the sub, and if they are coming from a healthy mindset. For example, if a sub wanted to start exercising 4x a week, not because they hate themselves, but for emotionally healthy reasons, and they asked their Dom to hold them to that expectation, I think that can be okay for some subs. But I don't think a dom should ever tell a sub that they need to start exercising or eating a certain way. And even when a sub is the one initiating the change, I think it's best to focus it on a positive replacement rather than on a negative. For example, I think a rule like "eating 3 servings of veggies per day" is a way healthier rule to use to encourage healthy changes rather than "No more than 1 sweet/dessert per week". I don't think that a requirement or expectation of weight loss is ever okay to bring into D/s.
I guess I should put a disclaimer in here that this is just my values, I'm not a mental health professional or anything like that. I feel pretty strongly though that some things like expecting weight loss or having a dom control a subs food intake, is really unhealthy. And, given that your dom has now said you 'need to' lose weight, I personally would have a hard time giving him power of anything to do with your eating or fitness because I would struggle to see even positive rules/expectations as being well intended now.
Anyway. My goal with the conversation you have with your Dom would be to express the following:
That it hurt your feelings when they said that you need to lose weight. That you disagree that you need to and that it's a hurtful thing to say even if you did feel you needed to lose weight.
That you haven't consented to them controlling your weight or your diet, so them telling you what you were going to do in this area is not appropriate.
With you saying that you felt that they had your best interest in mind, you can sort of soften these statements some by explaining that you know they meant well. Still, that doesn't change that they hurt you and overstepped their role so it's important to make that clear. It's really about defending your boundaries or the limits of your D/s dynamic.
If you agree with me that this just isn't an area that D/s should be involved with, I'd encourage you to express that belief to him so that he understands it's not really about exclusively what he said, and is more about it just not being a healthy thing to do with D/s.
Or - if he wasn't trying to impose these eating and weight loss expectations on you in a D/s way, but still stated it as something you need to do? Then I'd still explain to him that it was hurtful, and then explain how as a sub, if he tells you that you need to do something, even if he isn't specifically proposing it as a rule or D/s expectation, that as his sub, anytime he tells you that you 'need' to do something, it carries a lot more weight than someone else saying the same thing would. In this case, I'd think he needs to recognize how powerful his words are to you.
Best of luck to you.
Ps - I am a bit worried that this post might trigger some strong reactions from other people. It's a really sensitive topic. So before I even publish this, I want to add that the reason I am not providing a more strongly-worded reaction myself is because the anon specifically said she feels her dom is not toxic, and that he was coming from a place of care. My instinct is to not see a statement like 'you need to lose weight' that way - but I trust that she knows her dom better than I ever could from a single ask. So I based my answer around trusting her assumption.
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Some good things did come out of my large breakdowns I had a few weeks ago.
I've never had much faith in myself in regards to my goals, and I gave up on a lot of things that mattered to me. Music, art, social work. I struggled with impostor syndrome my entire life, and suffered from low self esteem due to the struggles that came with growing up with undiagnosed ADHD. I always felt like I tricked people into thinking I was smart because I could never do things consistently. And I pretended that I just didn't want to do those things anymore, when in reality I didn't think I deserved to do them, because I wasn't actually capable.
I realized that if I wanted to be happy, I needed to give myself more credit and be willing to make mistakes. I am allowing myself to realize I'm lovable, I'm likeable, and I didn't trick my friends or loved ones into caring for me. I'm worth having a job that makes me happy, and I'm worth pursuing my passions. I played my bass guitar for the first time in years the other day, and even though it wasn't much, it was... unbelievably cathartic.
For the first time in a long time, I'm making some new years resolutions and planning long term goals. They include:
- Starting therapy. I have been more stable the last couple weeks- I am trying to be kinder to myself and practicing grounding techniques for when work gets overwhelming, but I feel like I need to have an outlet to talk things out. I have reached out to a few therapists and am waiting to hear what their availability is like to schedule consultations.
- Get back into bass and art! I ideally would like to get an upright bass and join the local community orchestra, but I don't think that's going to be realistic for a while. That doesn't mean I can't play, though, even if it's for myself. I need to actually get my bass guitar and amp set up, but in my downtime I've been sight reading some music and practicing the rhythms. I also have been trying to draw more. Ideally, I would practice the basics, because I want to refine my style more, but as long as I'm creating I'm happy.
- Networking with the new marketing director at my current job. While the customer service aspect of my job sucks at times, I work with a supportive team and I know if I ask my boss, she'd support me trying to learn and grow, and who knows? Maybe I'd be able to shift gears from my current position.
- Finish taking this marketing course through Coursera, and maybe get a couple other certifications along the way. I'm on track to finish the Coursera course in six months, but I'd like to get it down to three, if possible. It's pretty easy to finish a week's worth of modules in a day as long as I have the spoons (and now that I'm back on my ADHD meds, it should be easier)
- Once I'm further along in the course and have more formal training, I want to reach out to the chorus my wife volunteers with and offer to do their social media. I know it's something they don't have a lot of time for (and it could use improvement), it would be good experience for me, and it would get me volunteer experience in two fields I'm passionate about: music and the LGBT community.
And as for my long term goals, they include:
- Getting a job in marketing, ideally for a company that specializes in music or audio
- Finding community in music. Be this getting an upright bass and joining an orchestra, or playing folk music with my wife and our friends, or whatever. Music used to mean so much to me, and while I don't want performing to be my full time job anymore, I want it to be a part of my life in some way, shape or form.
- Finding community in the arts again. I feel like I made some good headway last year, but my insecurities kept me from doing more. I also want to pursue more physical art. I enjoy doing digital art, but I'm definitely harder on myself than I am when I use a physical media. I place a lot of pressure on myself to make it perfect, which leads to my style being sanitized.
- Improve my executive functioning skills. I'm slowly getting better, but therapy will help
I haven't had a long term goal since I got married, bought our house and graduated college, which has lead to me just kind of floating around. I feel like these goals reflect what I've been missing and I'm excited to pursue them!
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i really, really liked this one. It reminded me a lot of chronos453's A Simple Platformer that we started this whole archive deal wiv. The material choices are pretty strong, and the abstacted-naturalistic shaping of them really goes far. Decorations and stickering are simple, but they serve quite well the need to give a little visual flair and distinction. The platforming maintains a good pace throughout and manages to be pretty fun the whole time. i really liked the little mechanical movements in the level as well. All in all a really strong example of simple level building. i'm a little confused about the providence of the level, rehp says it was actually created by their brother ruof, which is why i give double credit, but wivin the level it's only credited to ruof. So maybe he originally published it, and let his sib copy and republish? i don't know. Great level, tho'.
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We talked about this one last week, and i don't really have much to add.
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This one's alright enough, i guess? It feels kind of washed out and empty, and there's not much to distract you from the not much that's going on. The hedgehog bit was... well, the hedgehog was cute. The way it kept moving to block the launcher i needed, not so much.
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i kinda wish i could put together a good survival challenge, but i've never quite wrapped my head around the logic needed to get it done. i'm also not entirely sure how to fill it so it stays interesting for folx who are actually good enough to keep going at it for a while. i was always able to hang in the ones in LBP2 to get the prizes, but usually once i crossed the score threshold, i'd bounce. Just no patience for it. But sometimes you run into these ones in community, where the top score is just absurdly up there, and i think to myself, "dang, that's some real dedication right there." This one was cute enough for what it was. i found the bounciness of the hazards added a little bit too much randomness for me to really enjoy myself, but i gave it a couple of good goes to come in halfway decent on the leaderboard.
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This level is so danged good, and i have no idea how i missed out on it for so long; it just somehow completely passed under my radar. Really glad @mellangard suggested it a couple of streams back, or i might not have ever tried it. To be honest, i used to have a habit of avoiding Team Picked levels, 'cause i wouldn't use them for the old review show, and i didn't really have time to just play stuff for fun. It's taken me a bit to get out of the habit (and discouver the Team Picks are extremely hit-and-miss for quality), but the original show's idea was to try and focus on levels wivout many plays, to give them a bit of a chance in the limelight, and Team Picks always rack up numbers.
The fact that this level manages to be quite presentation-heavy, while maintaining a fairly quick pace, wivout running into too much lag, or having objects not load in is fairly amazing all on its own. Then toss on that it's all good, and fun? Like, this is a gem.
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i really wound up cottoning to this one. The shaping and presentation remind me quite favourably of Stocktown By Night from Track9, which we looked at way back on LittleBite-sizedPlanet episode 160. Holy crap, that was 2019?! Listening to the episode now, and... yeesh. As far as Insomniac Town, it's fun. Very nostalgic. Very LBP2. The only thing i didn't really like was the use of grabbable materials made non-grabbable. If it's the ground, yeah, sure, please make that non-grabbable. But if you give me a four by four chunk of fabric, i'm gonna try to drag it somewhere.
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It took me a silly-long time to figure out the creator's name is supposed to be read as Satan. Ope. This one is so, so, so very kludgy, and i no lie kinda love it? It's very LBP1 era hard-adjacent. Goofy and edgy, but not so much that i felt like noping out of it. The dropping heads at the end were on a real weird timer, and kept killing me, but that's kinda par for the course for these. One issue i did have was because of the changes to the lighting engine, and how fire is displayed, it can be a bit hard to see things at times, and it can be really hard to tell just what is fire as hazard, and what is fire as decoration.
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This one is so goofy, and i kinda love it too. i'm not sure if it was actually possible for me to save that guy, he seemed pretty well squished. i wonder if he was a little bit more survivable in the original LBP1 version, where he would have been made out of material. Sackbots can be quite delicate. Is this level scary? Absolutely not. Is killing the gator in a style reminiscent of ogRE2 a hoot? Oh heck yes.
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Talked about this one yesterday. Go peep that post. Seriously. i'm falling asleep sitting up, and i still haven't taken a shower.
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Honestly, i was a little worried making this level was a bit too much of a flex on the original creator, and that honestly wasn't intended. i really liked the chance to just throw together some simple gameplay bits and see how they run. i do feel like i should have done something better wiv that second Spring Bolt, tho'. That jump is just a ball of no fun.
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Oh my dogs, i am legit so sleepy, and there is still a bunch i have left to do tonight. We did all that work on stream last night, and as soon as we wrapped up, the game crashed and i lost all that progress. i tried to put the cameras back together this morning, but i couldn't quite get them how we had them, so i'm going to have to actually watch the VoD on the side while i fix them up, and i honestly hate that.
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Interesting questions!
- nope, not an islander
- barely below thirty
- oh this is probably my favourite question! I’m big on rope bondage, I love the feeling of being tied up, not even as a restraint thing but just as a full-body hug. Although when I do sub, it’s usually got a large degree of immobilisation— simply because I will put up a fight, and most people can’t get me down once I do get my arms free. I’ve got a bit of a gear fetish too, (bike) leathers, heavy rubber, gas masks, helmets. Technically the term is gimp but I loathe it, it sounds so horrendously unsexy to me (not purely but to a non-dismissable degree shaped by an ex Domme). When I Dom I’m pretty simple (at least that’s what I tell myself); I have a protocol I want my subs to follow, with correctional measures and pleasurable spanking/flogging/paddling, depending on the sub. I don’t think I have a puppy play fetish, I’ve just played with several puppies and generally enjoyed that.
- you’re allowed to be self-centred! That’s why I offered you the questions. Mostly it was a thing of chance? i was bored, i saw you were talking to anons eagerly (but with that kind of eagerness that leads to injury and lingering pain in a lot of cases) so I decided to keep an eye on you. What can I say, you are incredible and beautiful and your eagerness is so endearing. You would make a beautiful puppy with the proper mask and a chest harness. But it’s something very specific, so I don’t know if you’d actually like it.
- i have a bit of a bad history with sex and the strict rules and clear communication of bdsm always appealed to me. Safewording out with no questions asked, no hard feelings, allowing me to explore sexuality at my own pace and within the rules I set really helped me make peace with myself. At some point I developed a curiosity for Domming, read about a gazillion blogs because truth be told most of the Dom(me)s I played with weren’t all that good, went to kink events, befriended people at the club where they had shibari demonstrations and started doing scenes. Fell in love with the moment when a sub finally gives in to me, it’s the best thing and I crave it something fierce.
- Bonus: I used to live in a 24/7 arrangement when I was purely a sub but now I’m older, have back pain and a full-time job, so it’s mostly a sex thing these days. I only trust my two partners with myself and my boundaries enough for vanilla sex, so most people only get the demanding SOB with the RBF and the riding crop.
- P
PS: i hope you’ve gone to the post office already!
interesting answers! i figured the rope thing a little from earlier convos, same with spanking lol, but the gear stuff sounds fun too, is that both wearing it or just one person?
not too much danger over the internet luckily but i still really appreciate it 🙏 caught you at the right time jkhdjghst. i don't think i would like it, i'm pretty vanilla after all, but i'd certainly be willing to try it some day
ah yeah that makes a lot of sense, def something to be said for having clear rules and boundaries drawn up beforehand. really interesting hearing about your journey, thank you for sharing!! feel like i know you a Little bit better lol
and i did! tested it a little but i had to make dinner first lkdjjkhst, might try it Proper before i go to bed
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met up with an ex-girlfriend today. turns out she got monkey girl'd by some radioactive bananas or something. we had a lot of fun, reminisced about old times, caught up on life, all that.
thing is, the reason we broke up before was because I couldn't really deal with how uptight she was all the time, she had huge aspirations and I, well, didn't. we could never get over that particular stump and things fell through.
now though i guess something about the monkey-brain just makes her a lot more fun-loving? she showed me around her apartment and it had a huge tire swing for her and a playpen kinda thing with monkey bars and stuff to grip and climb on. she finds it therapeutic apparently. i think it's pretty cute lol. i'd be lying if I didn't admit I also enjoy how much more grabby and physical she is now. pretty up in your face, the kinda person that's grabbing your hand to show you around places.
she works at the zoo now, monkey exhibit mainly but she takes care of a bunch of the other animals as well. says that ever since she became "one of them" so to speak she's got a natural talent for knowing what they want and sort their problems out. she also does weed now which is uh, a change for sure. also therapeutic and apparently something she had been doing to help with her "up-tight"-ness even before she grew a tail and handfeet, but it's a fun thing for her to just chill out with as well.
what i'm trying to say is, I think I'm in love with her again. hard. i still feel like kind of a jerk for the way we ended things off and I don't want to make it look like I'm only coming back because monkeys give me a boner or something. i want to make sure I do this right by her and she was gonna show me a bit of how her job at the zoo works in a few days. was hoping i could at least suggest the idea i'd like to get back together with her then.
Aww, she sounds cute.
Now I will say that things seemed to have worked out for you. Your ex suffered a change that very nicely addressed what your complaints with her were.
So even if monkey girls don’t give you boners, you are coming around because of the change that was made with her.
If you want to avoid this perception then I’d say looking at why things fell apart in the first place from her perspective. Have you done anything to be more responsible and ambitious?
She was changed for you, it’s only fair you make a change for her.
If you have, Godspeed. The fact that you’ve been making changes should speak for itself. If not, then I say hold off and think about things.
Victims of transformations often feel undesirable, and because of this will take the first sign of interest from a person they can get. Just because she says yes if you ask her, doesn’t mean the relationship will be healthy.
So I suggest you really be honest with yourself, and ask if the two of you are ready for this. Can it last, can we communicate, are we physically compatible? Ask yourself these things.
That’s my therapy brain answer. My heart’s answer is that you fell in love with this girl twice, regardless of her shape, and that’s very cute.
Ms. Hannah
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🗣️🐯✨💚🤝
🗣: Does anyone know you are otherkin? Friends, family, etc? If so, how did you tell them?
I have a really close IRL dragon/wolfkin friend who actually helped inspire my own awakening! Other than that, I don't really feel the need to tell anyone in my life yknow? It's not out of shame or fear of rejection, it's just it seems like too much work to explain what otherkin is to my IRLs rather than just saying "I have a hyperfixation on / a strong spiritual connection to dragons" -both of which I tell people all the time. However, I've been debating weather or not to tell my boyfriend (who I suspect has some form of canine nonhumanity already)
🐯: Do you wish you were your kintype? Why or why not?
Ooooh this is a tricky one- yes and no. I definitely would LOVE to physically be a dragon, being able to fly, to wag my tail, to walk on all fours, to growl and roar- but I also *really love* my human life, and I don't think I would be able to just give it up to go live in the woods again. I have a ton of really close friends, I love all my hobbies, and of course I don't know if I could live without houses, cooked food, and electricity. If I could somehow shape-change I would in a heartbeat, but if it was permanent I'd probably say no.
✨: What are some things that validate you?
There's of course the obvious ones like being called "creature", "thing", or "it", as well as people in my life associating me with dragons by sending me memes or buying me dragon-related things for my bday/Christmas, but also pretty much anything that makes me step back and think "yeah, I'm just a funky lil wild animal". For me, that's identifying and eating wild plants, going fishing, completing a difficult hike, and taking the time to step back and just enjoy the feeling of the cool air in my lungs- away from the bustle of human life. Pretty much surrounding myself with and embodying anything draconic validates the hell out of me 😎
💚: What’s your favorite thing about your kintype? (The species, creature, etc)
Again, this is a tricky one! I definitely think just the sheer amount of folklore, both traditional and modern, that surround draconinity! I'm a pretty traditional European dragon, but there's so many different variations out there! Lungs and lindwurms and wyverns and cockatrices and hydras and amphithere and thousands of others! There's so many different stories to tell, and even more that haven't been told yet! My favorite thing is when I find some old myth or cultural tradition surrounding dragons that I haven't heard about yet, and then getting to spend the next few days learning everything there is to know about it.
🤝: When did you first hear about the kin community?
Honestly, I'm not really sure? I kinda just absorbed it through internet-cultural osmosis, so there was never really a distinct moment of discovery. Similarly, I didn't really have an "awakening" that most people have, when I found out what otherkin was I pretty much just said "oh so that's the word for how I feel, pretty cool" and moved on with my day
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Can you give us some Hux hcs about him crying for the first time in front of you (or the first time he let you see him vulnerable) and how you comforted him? Pretty please?
Creature Comforts
Friend, it's like you read my mind! Literally I've been thinking of a scenario like this for WEEKS now and I was about to cave and just write it for myself when I saw your request. Thank you so much!
AN: Hurt/comfort, language, fluff 🥺
He shouldn't have come here.
Not when he's feeling like this—skin drawn so tight around his eyes he's certain it'll tear away at the slightest brush, the contents of his chest crumpled like a bit of refuse dropped on the floor.
He could find a way to numb the pain on his own. There was plenty liquor in his quarters—expensive liquor—practically designed to erase any and all unease. He could let himself waste away on his couch with Milicent purring against his chest, could pretend that the animal pitter-patter of her heartbeat was yours (if he drank enough), limp fingers curled in her thick fur.
It would be mortifying, to be sure. But still less mortifying than this.
The door slides open just as he's about to turn back.
He catalogues the look of surprise on your face—one that surely matches his own—the bare skin of your shoulders, your torso, and the shape of your uncovered legs.
Fuck.
You're only wearing your leisure clothes: a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting top. He's never seen you like this, although the image should be familiar given how often in comes—bidden and unbidden—to his mind. He's often drifted away to the idea of peeling back the thick layers of your uniform, baring your skin, falling asleep at your side with his hands at your waist . . . so many parts of you his, and only his.
"Armitage," you say his name, and he can't help but melt a little, despite the effort it takes just to stay standing. "What are you doing here?"
He lets his mouth fall open, forms the beginning of a word. No sound comes out.
He's no good at this. It was already hard enough just getting to this point—the stifled confession, and sweaty-palmed dinners as he tried his best to endear himself to you, or the chaste kiss at the door of his quarters that left him feverish and dizzy, worse than a few nights with too little sleep and too much caff. And now he has to find a way to communicate that he needs you. Now. Badly.
"May I come in?" he says instead, and you nod with the slightest hesitance, stepping out of the way.
His movements are mechanical and stiff, every ounce of his mental capacity used to put one foot in front of the other until he stands in the middle of your living area, arms clasped behind his back like he's performing a routine inspection of the ship instead of visiting his . . .
Well, he's not exactly sure what to call you. He's not sure if there's a word out there that could convey how much you mean to him.
Armitage considers his surroundings as you step into the separate sleeping area, calling out that you'll just be a moment. There's a little plate of food on the table in front of your loveseat, a well-loved book laid flat to save your page—it's spine worn and creased white from repeated readings—and a steaming cup of deychin tea, the swirling tendrils of steam scenting the air.
He hears you rustling around in the closet, and then you emerge wearing a thick sweater, a hand nervously traveling up and down the sleeve covering your arm.
Armitage's face grows hot. Had you noticed his staring? He hadn't meant you to; normally you didn't catch him off-guard like this. He let's the meat of his thumb dig into the inside of his wrist, hoping the pain might keep a blush from his cheeks.
"I didn't think I'd see you for a few days at least, after your last message," you say, curling up on the couch and patting the space beside you, "come sit."
That's what he had meant when he sent that message, although it did shoot an atypical pang through his chest. A few days without your company had felt manageable; he'd survived long enough before all this. But then there was Ren. And Snoke. And a million other embarrassments and annoyances that made him long for the cool, unyielding silence on the other side of an airlock.
He should explain himself, or apologize for interrupting your night off—but it's been hours since he last stopped, even for a moment, and you look so comfortable. He wants a taste of it.
He'll allow himself a taste of it.
"I should be getting back to my office," he says, as he sits on the far edge of the sofa, hands folded in his lap and facing straight ahead, "but I wanted to see you first."
There's a smile on your lips as you lean in closer. "Any special reason?"
His heartbeat accelerates, picking up speed with every centimeter that disappears in the space between your face and his.
"No." The word hardly comes out as a whisper—his walls broken beneath your proximity. He's just so tired. Exhausted. He doesn't have the energy to pretend he's not.
Your grin falters; you must notice the fractures spreading in thin lines across his features, the weight of the circles beneath his eyes. "Is everything alright?"
For a moment, he thinks you might cry. That tender mouth turned sorrowful at the corners, eyes shining in the light. The thought of worrying you is abhorrent.
"Of course," he says, doing his best to rid you of any pity he certainly doesn't deserve. It's not convincing at all, and he clears his throat before trying again. "Of course."
You shift closer, and he stiffens at the press of your knee against his thigh, takes in the sound of his name on your lips like he needs it to live.
"Armitage, I know that this is all new for both of us, but we're . . . together now. I want to be here for you."
He swallows. Together. What an irresistible word—a word so lovely it would make even the grave taste sweet. He thinks of moments like these multiplied by the thousand, of pains turned dull by the inevitable comfort of your presence. He thinks of endless mornings tangled in your sheets, thinks of the brutality he'd willingly commit if it meant he could spend one night at your side. He thinks of your hands pressed to his cheeks—the absolution he would come to find in the depths of your love, if you granted it.
"Come here," you whisper, sensing the shadows of these thoughts behind his eyes, and his lungs ache when your hand meets his shoulder, pulling him against your chest.
You lean back, letting him use your body as a pillow. One hand cradles his cheek, thumb stroking soothing patterns across his skin, and you adjust your legs on either side of him, pressing your thighs in close around his torso until you're both stretched out across the length of your little loveseat, entwined.
He's moments away from coming undone.
You shush him quietly—like some feral animal you've taken it upon yourself to rescue—and that's how he feels, out of his mind at the brush of your fingers carding through his hair, the smell of your soap and the heat of your skin.
"It's okay," he hears you saying, feels the soft rumble of the words as they build in your chest. "You can let go."
It rips from him like thunder—that first, wretched sob—and the acrid burn of tears follows soon after. The last dregs of strength crumble to dust in his fingers, and he collapses into you, burying his face in the soft material of your sweater.
He's been shouldering lifetimes of grief for as long as he could remember. He's been carrying it on his own. And you've asked if you could lighten the load.
He grips at your waist in tight-clenched fists as his body is wracked with sobs, afraid you might vanish from beneath him, afraid he might wake up alone, afraid—always afraid—that he'll push you away without meaning to.
He's waiting for the moment he becomes too much, but nothing changes. You stay beneath him, your solid presence unwavering despite everything he's unleashed.
"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask calmly, fingers drifting across his neck. He shifts his face from the shelter of your sweater, staring at the soft line of your jaw, the chill air brushing against his last remaining tears.
"No," he says with a slight sniff, cheeks heating at the thought of how he must look after all that, "no. Thank you. I should be getting back to work." The muscles in your arm tighten, keeping him in place.
"You need to rest. I'll be here when you wake up."
He doesn't have the strength to fight you, and he'd never want to regardless, sinking back against the soft cushion of your chest. For a moment, he forgets the burden of his title, the weight of so many lives and so many deaths that sit unending on his shoulders. For now, he can be with you—just a man, in the arms of someone he loves too desperately to lose.
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Disclaimer - the following scenes shall be talked about as they are seen through my own two gay ass eyes, the gayz gaze™. To add, on this blog we kiss the ground Lucius walks on but it is also run by an Izzy Hands apologist. Take that as you will. Ye have been warned.
I gotta gush about this whole scene. I just gotta.
Both because it makes me happy on a personal level™ and because it gives me an excuse to write bullshit about Lucius and Izzy and how their personalities are wonderfully opposed in this scene. Like, these two motherfuckers even have opposing views on how love works and what it does to a person.
Backtrack.
This. This is art. Now, is this confirmation Lucius is poly? Nah, I don't think so, but as someone who's Extremely tired of the "you belong to me"/"I belong to you" possessive bullshit that comes across as completely unromantic and creepily (and accidentally) unhinged 99% of the time, I'm just happy we got this line. Because yes, to Lucius, it isn't about owning each other! But about different entities liking and respecting each other, seeing the other as an equal. Throughout the season, we see him and Black Pete actually communicate and express their feelings, fears and genuinely try to help and understand each other… There's just so much sincerity in it all.
Meanwhile Izzy. The pint-sized whore who, can we agree, has some weird thing going on with Ed? Like, it's repressed gay yearning™, right? Much to talk about this lil' freak, this wet purse dog (both affectionate). This man has seen things™, okay? He's been the one alongside Blackbeard (not Ed, mind you), for a very long time and, in the fashion of a proverbial suburban (house)wife (and her husband is quite openly cheating on her with his new coworker) scorned, has dedicated his best years to serving him (and got nothing in return???). He's seen Blackbeard, he knows him, what the man of the myths is capable of, what he has done and what he can do again. Izzy has first-hand experience with how Blackbeard's traumatic experiences (his father, then Hornigold etc.) have shaped him and convinced him he must enact violence for self-preservation and just plain survival (simplifying, obviously). So, I reckon Izzy has probably gotten some of that Hornigold treatment from Ed. And honestly, I'm pretty convinced that THE Izzy "trapped in the wrong genre" Hands has a similar background of poverty and punishing violence Ed has. So before Ed grows "erratic" and unpredictable and Izzy has to step in to “control” it, Blackbeard's been the only part of Ed he has known. It's the persona Izzy thinks he knows how to deal with and serve. The one he can gratify and get things from, one he can nudge and shape and the one he just knows how to interact with. In some ways, I think Izzy defines his own self worth and self-respect in respect to Blackbeard. Like he doesn't know what else he's really good for. Sure, he insults Ed, threatens to leave, BUT he then apologizes, comes back, is a "sentimental bastard" who goes around the whole of fucking Nassau telling Spanish Jackie of the petty things Stede does that make him angry, jealous one might say.
And unlike Lucius and Black Pete, who can be a wonderful duo (and I'd like to see more of that in season 2 because Lucius isn't DEAD, repeat it with me-), who can exist outside their relationship to the other, who have other shit going on in their lives, Izzy, on the other hand… Well, he has dedicated himself to his captain. The one he has only a subtextual, unsaid relationship with. And he's mostly fine with that. He doesn't want to define whatever the hell his mind's got going on for Blackbeard. But the moment Stede enters, yeah… And then, he sees Blackbeard gradually (not even THAT gradually, mind you) "degrade" into Ed, and while it's absolutely funny to us, Izzy really is completely confused by what Stede has done to his captain. How? What? And Izzy's just such an insecure git. The only way his fever dream lizard brain imagination could've thought those two were fucking on the deck is if he had some real insecurities about it all (his face goes through three phases - first, the shock and initial disgust, second, slow realization of some feelings™ and basically a sad "oh my god" cry for help and third, righteous fury followed by an angry "OH MY GOD" this time). And then let's not forget about the symbolic failure to perform of the getting Blackbeard out of the belts (or whatever the hell those are?) scene, as some great meta writers have pointed out. And then the "you think you know everything" of it all. Dizzy Izzy really is one emotionally constipated individual.
But honestly, it's not completely his fault. Hell, for all he knows, Ed has never existed, because Ed had been keeping up the performance of Blackbeard for a very long fucking time, not exposing much of anything to other people. And I'd say, even the little he had shown, most of it was shown to Izzy who got the "Excuse ME, only I get to call him Edward" privileges. Blackbeard has also set, or at least shaped, the standard of what Izzy thinks is a “real man”, Izzy probably not sufficiently picking up on the traumatic, self-hating and self-preserving aspects of Ed’s Blackbeard invention.
Now, let's go back to the beginning - "we don't own each other". Bitch, Izzy cannot comprehend that. HE is the only one who gets to call his captain Edward, he is there to serve him and do what he is commanded to do. And in return for his generous service, he thinks Ed owes him, that he owns what Ed is and gets to be, because after all, he thinks he knows Ed best.
Lucius is open, sassy, talks back and doesn't overcompensate, he is his own person, one that says what he thinks and wants and does something about it. Izzy is all about the unspoken duties and intricate rituals™ babey, he keeps that shit locked away but so easy to fucking spot from a mile away by someone like Lucius.
And Lucius sees through it - the demand for respect that comes from insecurity, the possessiveness of something (ahem, someone) he has never and could never own, the fear and reluctance of wording his desires for a myriad of complicated reasons… and what does Lucius do with it? He twists the knife and makes a mockery of it, admittedly in self-defense. And after all, the first response Izzy gives is in the only language he has known to use - the language of violence, shame, blackmail and vague threats.
So Lucius demands respect and gets it through some possibly unconventional means while Izzy tries so desperately through intimidation and instilling fear only to fail spectacularly.
And this that is just *chef's kiss*.
I just think these two should fu- i mean come on, the stare Izzy gives Lucius before telling him to fuck off, amazing, impeccable etc.
This was my TedTalk, thank you for your time.
sorry y’all had to witness the brainrot, but I’m waiting for some season 2 news and need a place to scream into the void while I wait
#back on my izzyposting bullshit#ofmd#our flag means death#ofmd lucius#ofmd izzy#izzy hands#ofmd analysis#ofmd meta#I guess?#pinned post
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Hey, El. Can we know more about breggy? Like a headcannon or something.
And btw I have been meaning to say that-
Your monster oc eldritch is pretty interesting, I saw your art randomly in my newsfeed and decided to gave a follow.
Read the ao3 fanfiction You wrote. Discovered an amazing game, and totally fell in love with your art. :)
Howdy, thanks for stopping by! I'm so happy you decided to stick around, I'm genuinely having a lot of fun actively putting out content like this. Furthermore, I've never really been all that confident in my own art skills, so it warms my heart a lot to hear that.
As for Breggy, I'm working on a slightly more detailed post containing the basics of his character, but I'll gladly give you a small rundown here!
(By the way, I'm still on the fence about making a bonus chapter for Wallflower, it's sitting in my drafts all sad. However, if anyone wants to discuss or even request smaller scenarios, I'd totally be down for it.)
For starters, "Bregory" is part of a type of monster who is commonly known to have a couple of interesting features, such as mild shape shifting of body features and some vocal mimicry. This type of monster is often (and a bit rudely) referred to as "spreaders", since they share a strange ability to somehow achieve successful conception outside their species (meaning other monster types with decreasing populations or fertility issues may strike deals with these monsters to fix their situation);
Now, one thing to take into account here is that, monsters and humanity generally do not mingle much in this little universe I've had for a couple of years. This means that some species are more socialized the human way and others behave vastly like your run of the mill cryptid. Spreaders don't commune with humanity for the most part, because they are very in tune with the hormonal activity of the human body, and it is hard for a somewhat hypersexual species to remain unfazed in the presence of an aroused/ovulating human (it just wouldn't be pretty);
Breg is, to put it simply, a bit of a weirdo. For some reason or another, this guy developed a fascination with humans and human society as a whole. He deviates against 99% of his species by actively seeking contact with us as much as possible. Specifically, Breg really likes the stereotypical depiction of domestic dynamics where one element is the bread winner and another is the caretaker (gender roles are irrelevant to him regarding this, in fact, he would prefer to be the household keeper). That being said, even if he thinks humans are adorable, he knows very little of how to behave properly around one, hence his constant uneasy grin and almost sweaty appearance. He's driven off a couple of people with his touchy, invasive mannerisms. This is where Fasma (the little dude with the top hat) pops in, as part of a service for less informed monsters to learn to commune with humans. Unfortunately, Breg is shit out of luck, because all the old coot wants to do is get wasted on human liquor and give him vague advice which Breg often misinterprets. He will act as a wing-man when Breg requests help on how to court you;
I can go into more detail about this later, but Breg meets you in a very strange manner. You had gone out late at night to throw the trash away in your ratty pajamas and Breg was hiding in the shadows of the alley where the closest dumpster is, trying to read a random magazine he caught. He noticed an old newspaper in your other hand and asked to have it. Now, it was dark and you couldn't see anything aside from an eerily long clawed hand poking through the dark. You were too exhausted for your brain to process anything, so you just handed it to him with a mumble and trudged back inside. To you, it's a trivial interaction that bares absolutely no meaning. To Breg, it's the start of an ugly obsession. Because, little do you know, you were the first human not to freak out in his presence. He's immediately fond of you and easily stalks you around, which is easy to do when one can alter the color of their skin. It takes a looong while before he gets the nerve to actually approach you, and until he does that, Breg will do a lot of gross little things like inviting himself into your home, stealing things (you'd expect underwear, but he's more likely to take something that reminds him of you, like a bracelet), hovering around you while you sleep, the body pillow...;
When you do meet him, Breg is going to immediately come off as creepy and set off a lot of flags, but he's pathetic enough that you're also weirdly charmed. You'll want to keep him at arm's length for the most part. Breg is doing his best to be civil and proper with you, but he struggles... Curiously, he's very insecure about his lack of visible ocular organs and will die inside if you call him freaky;
Since you didn't really ask for the more NSFW side of things, I'm just going to drop a little something something here. Breg's species has two members and it was very jarring for him when he found out human males only have one- What do you mean there's only one??? Are you okay?? Did you remove one? If given the chance, he absolutely will brag about it.
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Say You’ll Remember Me (Songbird Chapter 1)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: After performing at open mic night at a bar downtown, Reader meets someone that could change everything for her.
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Smut (oral sex - male and female receiving, fingering, male masturbation, cockwarming, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie), Language
Word Count: 7.1k
SERIES MASTERLIST
SERIES PLAYLIST (new songs added with the release of each chapter)
***
Love never came easy to me. Truth be told, a lot of things never came easy to me, and I was okay with that, but love was probably the one thing I wish I could just let myself feel with no problem.
For as long as I could remember, I've wanted to be in love with someone as much as I'd seen my parents love each other. My older sister got a boyfriend when she was 17 and I was 11, and they've been together ever since. They're married with two children now, and just as in love now as they'd been when they met.
I've never seen anyone love the way I've seen my family love, but for some reason I was never able to give as much as them. I mean, I felt love obviously, but it was never that all-consuming, life-changing love that was supposed to make your head spin and your soul ache.
Maybe I just never found the right person, but every relationship I've ever been in ended because of my inability to give out as much love as I was given. And that's not to say that I didn't care about the people I've dated, they were all really great people in fact... But I could never fully be in it, you know? Some people give their all to another person, would do anything and everything for them if it meant they got to spend the rest of their lives together, but I never felt that. Sure, I could have settled in any of my relationships, but if I was going to actually spend my time building a life with another person, I was going to really feel like I needed it to survive. Or, like I deserved it, if I was going to go that far.
For the past few years I've pretty much given up on relationships. I've been on a few dates, had a few hookups here and there, but at this point I was almost certain that love wouldn't find me any time soon.
However, the one thing that filled that love-shaped void in my soul was music. Words, melodies, stories... It all made me feel the way I was convinced love was supposed to make you feel. Even if I never wrote songs about my (positive) experiences with love, I loved love songs, and most music in general. That was the one thing I was sure of. Music was the one and only love I knew I could count on. It kept me safe, it ensured that I wasn't alone, and it hugged me in a way where I've never felt more at home.
Which would explain why I was here on a Friday night, singing in front of an entire crowded bar. Performing and sharing my music with people was the best way I knew how to outwardly show... well, anything about myself, really. I didn't go to open mic nights often, but when I did it felt better than anything in the world.
Tonight was... different, though. Not in a bad way, of course, but there was something in the air that made me feel like something great was going to happen.
It was the same feeling I got whenever I knew I was about to get laid.
Now, say what you want about it, about me, but even if I sucked at finding love I sure knew how to have one-night stands. I loved sex. It was another way I was able to get that happy rush of feelings while being with another person without actually having to be in love with them. Truly, sex was the perfect outlet for me, and my music was a great tool that helped me get it. Not that I needed help—if I wanted sex bad enough I could easily look for it—but the fact that I could play several instruments and sing well definitely made things easier.
And tonight I wanted it bad.
I hadn't realized it until I tried to figure out what song to sing for open mic night, and in turn came to the conclusion that I hadn't had sex with another human being in about a month. Which wasn't a bad thing by any means, but it didn't change the fact that I wanted someone else to help me out in chasing that high this time.
So I opted to go with a cover of a song I knew would do the job no matter what. I brought my electric guitar with me and mirrored the Wildest Dreams performance that Taylor Swift did from the GRAMMY Museum. The song itself was sexy and sweet, but with the electric guitar and the electric guitar only, it made for less sweet and more sexy. I'd always loved that performance from the second I saw it, so as soon as I was able, I bought an electric guitar and taught myself to play it. It was a hit every time I performed it.
I was wearing a maroon, long sleeved turtle-neck crop top that exposed my belly-button ring (which was sparkling silver and caught the light in the bar beautifully, if I were to say so myself), a pair of tight jeans, and black glittery heels that I only ever pulled out when I was feeling brave. My hair was half-up and half-down, leaving a good amount of my face exposed which donned silver eyeliner, sheer lip gloss, and my eyebrow ring. Paired all together with my black and white guitar and shiny nail polish that matched the deep maroon of my shirt, I felt hot as hell. Better than I'd felt in a while if I was being honest.
It felt even better when I was performing. I was confident in my abilities as a musician, to which I considered myself fortunate. If only I could have been that confident in other departments, I feel like I would have been dead-set for life.
But tonight I didn't want to think about that.
I played the song just as well as I had every other time. Probably even better, if only for the fact that I was working to get myself a lay. But whatever the scenario, I was feeling good and that's all I'd ever wanted to accomplish.
I saw him immediately after I sang the last note and the final chord of my guitar faded out into the applause.
He's just... where my eyes decided to wander, I guess. I don't know exactly what it was, but I was thankful for it, even though I almost forgot to breathe with the way he looked back at me. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were because of how far away he was, but I'd have bet on my life that they were some shade of brown. He bit his lip rather nervously when he noticed me staring at him, unable to tear my eyes way, but nevertheless he kept his gaze trained on me. It was so strong I could have sworn they burned holes into my soul.
Or, more likely, my libido.
Either way, I knew it then, when I packed up my guitar and walked through the crowd to find him, that I wasn't going home alone for the first night in weeks.
That was a good feeling.
So good, in fact, that I allowed myself to be a little more vulnerable than normal. It wasn't anything huge, but it also wasn't like me at all.
While generally, guys are more notorious to be the ones kicking out the women after a one-night stand, I always found it the opposite. I hated waking up in the morning and having to kick some dude out of my apartment. They always put up some sort of fight when it came time to leave, and I didn't get why. All the women I've hooked up with were easier to communicate with on that front, so I didn't mind as much, but still made it a point to be the one coming and going no matter who I slept with.
There was something different about this guy, though. Again, my sex drive was probably getting the better of me, so it maybe wasn't the best idea to let him come to my apartment, but I truly believe that a part of me wanted this man to see where I lived. I... don't know what it was, or why it happened, but it felt exciting. It felt new. It sparked some newfound adventure in me that I didn't really know I craved until I had it.
That being said, I could almost tell immediately within minutes of talking to him that he was going to be a hard one to get to leave. But the thing is...
I didn't mind that.
Something deep inside me wanted to feel what it was like to wrap this man around my finger, to have him so invested in me that he didn't want to leave me, and it was a weird feeling. I didn't know what to do with it, exactly, other than test the waters and see what was going to come of it.
He was about to tell me his name. That's when I started to realize it was a bad idea, and I was already in a vulnerable position. So I held my hand out to his face, pressing my pointer finger to his lips and seductively licking my own.
"No names. Is that okay?"
Something in those brown eyes (I was right) practically begged me to let him say his name, and a part of me wanted to know what it was just so I could scream it. But I knew that if I knew his name, I was ultimately going to be in trouble.
Like I said, there was something different about him. I didn't know what it was, and I didn't want to know because if I did, then I was going to be even deeper in uncharted territory. Besides, if anything the mystery of having no names would make this even sexier. Right?
Reluctantly he nodded, and I slid my finger down his lips and under his chin, then over his throat. I saw the goosebumps form on his skin as I went lower, lightly over the navy blue sweater he was wearing and stopping at his lower stomach. I grabbed one of his belt loops and pulled him close to me, smiling softly as his eyes never stopped searching mine.
"You ready to show me a good time, Pretty Boy?"
He exhaled at the nickname , but I couldn't tell if it was from nerves or what... Either way, he said, "Yes," and I twisted his belt loop tighter with a wink.
***
She was the most captivating woman I think I'd ever seen.
She commanded every room she was in, made everyone pay attention to her, and even if she couldn't sing or play the guitar the effect would have been the same. Granted, I only ever saw her in the bar. So, technically only one room.
But it was about to be two.
I didn't even want to be in the bar, and I was going to leave since Derek, Emily, and Penelope ditched me for their own endeavors, but at the very last second a voice in the speakers cut through the radio-generated music announced that someone would be performing, officially kicking off open mic night.
It wasn't that that stopped me. But it was her name.
Y/N.
I had to wonder if, when she said, 'No names," she remembered or even knew that I'd already known it. Or maybe she just didn't want to know my name. Whatever that meant, it didn't deter me in any way from trying to take up any space or time that she had. After she locked eyes with me on stage, I sent out so many signals, hoping to whatever higher power was up there, if any, that she would come to me. I just... needed to know her. To see her up close.
Truthfully I don't know what made me think I had the right amount of confidence or skill to do anything other than babble incoherently or just stare in her presence, but thankfully she didn't have much of a knack for talking.
When she finally stood in front of me, I didn't know where to look. I knew ultimately that I should look at her face, but damn it if I couldn't help but look at all of her, my stomach naturally doing flips when I caught sight of her belly-button ring, and... Her hands... Good God, I couldn't stop staring at her hands. I realized once she was closer that that's mainly what I looked at while she was on stage. The way her fingers worked the guitar, making it look like it was the easiest thing in the world, it was enough to send me into a tailspin.
Truthfully I don't think there was one single flaw about her. Naturally all human beings have flaws, but as far as I could tell, from this first meeting, this woman was nothing but an angel sent from Heaven, specifically to destroy me.
My favorite part about her, though, was by far her voice. I didn't listen to much mainstream music, but if it sounded anything like that, then I wanted to hear all of it.
Forget angel... She was a siren.
Yeah. That was the perfect way to describe her.
And when she touched me...
I'm pretty sure I blacked out.
I say pretty sure, because I distinctly remember telling her, "Yes," when she'd asked me indirectly to leave with her, but everything else only came in one-second flashes. A moment where I was in her car, and more clearly a moment when she pulled me out of it and shoved me against the door after she closed it, running her glorious hands through my hair and attacking my neck with harsh, sloppy, butterfly-inducing kisses.
But I made myself remember when we were actually in the apartment, because there was no way I was going to let myself forget that moment.
So I was completely well-aware of everything around me when she unlocked the door, pulled me inside, and shoved me against another door for a second time that night. This time she kissed my lips, and I all but melted into her. Her tongue didn't waste any time slipping into my mouth, but I didn't waste any time trying to fight it. I would have given her anything she wanted, she didn't even have to ask for it.
That being said, she broke away from me, looked me dead in the eye, and asked, "Can I take your pants off?"
I nodded eagerly, choking out a breathy, "God, yes," as best as I could.
That seemed to be what she was looking for, because she all but groaned as she squatted on the floor and worked at my belt. I didn't know what to do with myself, my hands seeming to wander aimlessly before settling behind me on the door. Once she got my pants down, she looked up at me through those silver-painted eyelids and leaned forward, pressing a hot, wet kiss to my dick through my underwear.
Any other time in this sort of situation, I most likely would have felt embarrassed by whimpering the way I did, but seeing the primal lust widen her eyes as I did it completely erased any doubt I ever had. By the time she pulled my boxers down and licked a large, slow line up the underside of my dick, those doubts were completely wiped off the board, no evidence of them ever having been there.
I wanted to look at her more than anything, to memorize the way she looked wrapped around me, but my eyes wouldn't stay open. Everything I was feeling, every sensation that ran through my veins, every hot lick of her tongue as it swirled around my tip, every small stroke of her hand when she took a break to whisper filthy things to me... It all rendered me completely unable to think straight.
At one point I was almost at the breaking point, and she knew it, too, because she pulled away from me completely and stood straight, running one of her hands along the inside of my thigh as she went up. I opened my eyes to meet her, her mouth slick with a smear of her lip gloss and her saliva. She looked like she was on the brink of tears, but none of them had fallen. But the gleam in her eye, that's what stood out to me. She was so utterly consumed with burning desire that I would have done anything to satiate every need she had.
She waited a beat, studying my face and the way my lips were no doubt still smeared with her lip gloss. And then she grabbed one of my hands and brought it to cup her crotch, tilting her head to the side and practically sighing at the touch.
"Aren't you going to return the favor, Pretty Boy?"
My first instinct was to tell her I needed a second to breathe. But somehow I knew I wouldn't be breathing well regardless of what happened. I stumbled out of my shoes and pants as quickly as I could, using my hand to lightly rub along the seam of her jeans. As soon as I was free of constraints, I made a point to turn us around so she was the one with her back against the door. I helped her pull her pants off, and once they were, along with her heels, I draped one of her legs around my shoulder so the process would be easier for the both of us.
I've only ever gone down on a woman a few times, so it was safe to say I was a little nervous that I wouldn't be able to satisfy her. But even if I hadn't had much practice, I knew I was a good listener. I practically read people for a living, and I knew how to read behavior and body language. So I knew that that would be my strong suit here.
That being said, I did have some idea of where to start. So I looked up at her while I brought my tongue out to her panties, lightly dragging the tip of it along the seam that met the corner of her thigh. On my way to the other side I pressed the lightest of kisses to where her clit would be through the fabric, and then repeated the process a few times, feeling her squirm beneath me. Once I could tell she was getting close to frustrated, I made it a point to drag my tongue upwards in a long swipe until I reached her clit. I kissed it again before using one of my fingers to come up and slide under the fabric, though not pushing it entirely aside.
She sighed out as my finger ran along the very tops of her lips. When I pushed it in just the slightest, gathering her wetness as my tongue still gently worked at her clit through her panties, I took the moment to look up at her.
If she wasn't already the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and in that moment she was even more perfect, her lip bit and her eyes on the verge of fluttering closed, I could only imagine what she would look like when I was inside of her.
I almost collapsed thinking about it, but went back to my task quickly, knowing that if I stopped thinking for once in my life then I wouldn't have to imagine it, and I could experience it instead.
So I finally pulled her panties aside and used the tip of my tongue again to taste her, just as lightly as I'd done it before. Only rather than fabric I was met with the smooth, slick taste of her pussy. I think I could actually hear her tremble under me as I flicked my tongue over her clit a few times, though everything I was feeling in that moment was so strong that it was more likely that I was losing every ability to think straight.
As time progressed I deepened my every movement, bringing my tongue deeper and harder through her gradually until the point where I was practically eating her out like a man starved. You could argue that I was starved for her in every sense of the word, but that moment wasn't about me. I was focused solely on making her feel good, paying attention to how tightly she gripped my hair when I briefly sucked on her clit, or the way she bucked her hips forward whenever I pushed my tongue inside of her as far as I could will it.
She seemed to like it best, though, when my fingers pumped slowly in and out of her in tandem with each swirl of my tongue around her clit. I took my time, savoring every second I could as my eyes stayed shut. I could barely keep them open.
When I finally did look up her, that seemed to finally be the thing that pushed her over the edge. Well, started to, anyway.
"Wait," she breathed, and for a second I thought maybe I'd done something wrong. I pulled away from her and raised an eyebrow, and all she did was look down at me, her eyes just as lust blown as they'd been before, if not even more. "I want you to edge me, can you do that? Just... keep bringing me there, but don't give me what I want. Not until I tell you to."
"Anything," I told her truthfully, keeping my eyes locked with hers as I brought my tongue to her once more. She shuddered under my touch as I worked at her clit again, quickly flicking over it as my fingers came up to hold her hips. It wasn't long before I brought her to the edge for the second time that night, and this time when I pulled away, I leaned my head into her thigh, pressing soft kisses to the inside. She was so focused on watching my face that she must not have noticed my fingers coming to slide into her again. She fluttered her eyes closed and leaned her head against the door with a soft thud as I fingered her, quickly picking up the pace as my tongue came out to lick at her thigh before I bit into it softly.
"Fuck, you're so fucking good with your hands," she managed to say through a moan.
I laughed a little, glancing over at her hands briefly and just letting the words fly from my mouth. "You're one to talk. The way you played that guitar? The way you touch me? Good God..."
She hummed hungrily, opening her eyes and pulling me up by my hair to pull me away from her. Her leg dropped from my shoulder and I stood up to meet her, towering over her by a good four to five inches.
For a moment we just stood there and stared at each other, both pants-less and desperate for each other but unwilling to do anything about it.
Until she pulled at my hair, craning my head to the side so she had access to my neck before running one of her hands down the side of my face, neck, and finding purchase gripping my shoulder. Her nails lightly scratched at my skin, sending a mess of goosebumps down my whole body, right before she took the other one and grabbed my bare ass.
"Baby, I've barely even touched you, yet."
I don't know what it was that made me so bold, but I smirked as both of her hands squeezed, causing her fingernails to leave indents into the skin on my right shoulder and my left ass cheek. "Touch me, then."
She was more than happy to oblige. Within seconds, both of her hands were slipping up my sweater and roaming my back and stomach as she leaned up and kissed me again. I met her lips happily, allowing her all the access she wanted to my tongue. At this point I was growing restless, wanting more than anything in the world to have her push me onto the bed, or the couch, or even the floor, and do to me whatever she saw fit.
My desperation must have broke the surface somehow, manifested in a way I hadn't noticed, because she laughed against my mouth, pushing me away and ripping off her shirt in one fluid motion. Which left her in only a grey bra that matched her panties.
"Take off your shirt," she said.
I didn't hesitate, doing as I was told and tossing it on the floor with our other clothes.
"Go sit on the couch."
I went there as quickly as I could, only feeling slightly embarrassed being the only one completely naked. But almost as soon as I sat down on her couch—truthfully one of the most comfortable ones I'd ever been on—she'd come up behind me and started massaging my scalp. I closed my eyes at the way it almost lolled me to sleep. If she did that any longer, I'm sure I would have.
Eventually, though, she slid her fingers down my neck and over my shoulders, resting them finally on my bare chest and drawing circles. She brought her lips down to my right ear and grazed it with her teeth before whispering, "Touch yourself for me? Go slow."
I didn't have to be told twice. As I'd quickly learned, I was pretty sure this woman could have done anything she wanted to me and I wouldn't have rejected her.
My hand firmly gripped my dick and went slow, just like she'd asked. With every long, meaningful stroke, she mirrored it with a swipe of her tongue along my neck. Her hands remained at my chest, reaching down to circle my nipples in very light, goosebump-inducing motions.
"Faster," she told me, and I listened. Each stroke of my hand was met with even faster, sloppier kisses along my neck and jawline, and I could have sworn I felt her fingernails digging themselves harshly into my chest.
"Faster."
By this point I was occasionally bucking my hips forward to meet my hand, and Y/N laughed lowly against my jaw, mumbling against it. "You wanna cum, Pretty Boy?"
"Not... Not yet," I stuttered truthfully.
"Aww," she cooed, tilting my head to the side and giving me a kiss on the mouth. It was probably the sweetest kiss we shared that night. "You want to cum inside me, don't you?"
She kissed me again immediately after she said it, and I moaned into her mouth, my hand working faster. If she didn't stop me, I was going to be done for, and I knew I wouldn't be able to go again. Not for a few hours at least. And I didn't know how long she'd want me to stay, or what we would even do while we waited.
Thankfully she seemed to take some semblance of pity on me, because she brought her hands away from my body, pulling back completely and telling me to stop.
I removed my hand and practically sighed in relief. I waited for further instruction, a sound, a touch, anything... But I almost had the wind knocked out of me when she appeared in front of me, having taken off her bra and underwear. What I found shouldn't have surprised me, but somehow it did. This woman was just full of surprises.
She had nipple piercings that matched the silver color of her eyebrow ring, not sparkly like the belly-button ring, but it was the cherry on top to what I'd already found practically perfect in every way.
As she sauntered to me, I couldn't decide where to look. Much like before. So I started from the bottom and worked my way up, eventually meeting her eyes when she straddled me on the couch and took my face in her hands.
"You clean?"
"Yes," I stated clearly, not wanting any signals to get crossed. I even nodded to accentuate my point.
"Good. Me, too. And I happen to be on birth control, so..." She leaned into my ear again and ground her hips into mine, the hot wetness of her pussy slightly grazing my dick. I almost fainted right there. "You can cum inside me all you want..."
She bit down on my shoulder then, and I groaned, bringing my hands to rest at her hips.
Then she pulled back and looked me in the eye again, grabbing my dick and lifting her hips to hover above it. She sunk down completely and quickly, letting me adjust to the feeling for all of two seconds before she gripped my chin in her right hand and smiled, batting her eyelashes. "But only when I tell you. You can't cum without my permission, got it?"
I breathed out a weak, "Yes," and then she got up and sank right back down, setting a quick and steady pace right away.
Both of her hands gripped my shoulders while mine stayed planted firmly around her waist, and if they were too tight she didn't say. In fact, by the look on her face I judged she probably enjoyed how tightly I was gripping her. So I decided to test it out. And sure enough, every time I let up my grip on her waist she would clench around me and move a little faster, making my grip tighten, and then she hummed, digging her nails into my shoulders.
Every high moan and whimper she let out as she rode me was just as melodic and beautiful as her voice when she sang. Added to the way she moved and the way she worked her hands, she was a rhythm all her own, constantly creating some sort of song, some piece of art that begged to be heard, to be felt in the deepest part of any soul that would embrace it...
I wanted it to last forever. I wanted to drown in her song forever.
Maybe that was a little dramatic. I mean, I only just met this woman under two hours ago at least (I wasn't sure how much time had passed truthfully), didn't know a single thing about her other than her first name, her musical ability, and her body. And all she knew about me was... well, my body.
Regardless, I was determined to make this last as long as I could, so I let go of her hips and brought my fingers to comb lightly through her hair, bringing her head up from the crook of my neck to meet mine, our foreheads touched together.
As if she knew what I was thinking, she slowed her hips, and then pressed her lips to mine gently. I'm pretty sure I felt my heart melt.
"What's wrong? Not gonna last much longer?"
I couldn't tell if it was a taunt or a genuine question. Either way, I shook my head and cradled her face. "I don't think so... But I want this to last."
"Hmm," she contemplated, but not for long, because seconds later she stopped moving her hips altogether and stayed sitting on my dick. She leaned back a little, bringing her hands to rest on her thighs as she took me in. "Well, then I guess I'll have to get creative."
I genuinely had no clue what she was about to do, but when she moved one of her hands to her breast and pinched at her nipple, I didn't care one way or the other. I was curious, sure, but ultimately I knew I would welcome whatever she did.
"I noticed you've been eyeing my piercings all night," she said sweetly, continuing to play with her nipples. She bit her lip softly before grinding down onto me and making me suck in a breath. "But I have to say, these two are my favorites... Aren't they pretty?"
"Fuck, they're beautiful," I breathed, splaying my hands over her stomach. "You're beautiful..."
"Aww,” she drawled. “Thanks."
Then she promptly removed her hands from herself, grabbed my wrists, and brought them to her breasts. My hands instinctively squeezed, feeling the contrast of soft skin and cold metal in my palms. I licked my lips before flicking my eyes up to meet hers. "Can I?"
"You can do whatever you want, baby," she purred, grinding her hips once more. A groan ripped from my throat before I leaned forward and brought her right nipple into my mouth, immediately swirling my tongue around the metal of her piercing. I think she might have groaned also, but I was so caught up in the way she grinded onto me and the feel of her skin on my tongue that I couldn't tell you for sure.
I kissed across her chest until I reached her other nipple, and gave it the same careful attention. Meanwhile I suddenly felt her hand slip down between our bodies so she could touch her clit. I brought my head up and peppered kisses up her neck.
"Let me help," I whispered against her skin, bringing one of my hands to replace hers.
She grabbed my wrist before I could get there. "No, keep doing what you're doing. Please..."
And that was that. I moved my mouth back down her neck, down the slope of her breast, and went back to flicking and swirling my tongue over her nipples. Eventually I took one and just slightly tugged at it with my teeth, causing her to buck her hips forward and send a shockwave of energy through me. At that point I was pretty sure I was almost feral with need, not caring how long it took anymore.
So right after she brought herself to orgasm, the movements on her clit slowing to a stop, I shifted our weight and pinned her to the couch so that her back was arched off the armrest. With an amused laugh, she wrapped her legs around my waist as I held one of my hands to the back of her head, the other on her waist, and pushed into her with one, long, fluid thrust forward.
I didn't waste any time with adjustments. I didn't care that my knee was only slightly hurting at the angle it was placed in. The only thing I cared about right then was fucking this woman so good she'd have to remember me. Which wasn't like me at all, but I didn't care.
So that's what I did. My hips set a ruthless, quick pace that had her sliding back until she was almost off the couch, the only thing keeping her anchored being my arm cradling her neck and head and her legs wrapping around my waist. Her heels dug brutally into my lower back, and if I had to guess, they were probably going to leave bruises. Not to mention her hands were clawing desperately at my shoulders to hold on, grabbing any skin she could as I pounded her into the arm of the couch.
I tried to keep my head up, but I was falling into oblivion. And I think she knew it, too, because she used her hands to keep me upwards, even doing so much as looking down between our bodies as best as she could to see me drilling my hips forward. The sight seemed to send her into a tailspin, because she bit her lip and groaned out.
"Fuuuuck, baby, just like that, don't stop, don't stopdon'tstopdon'tst—"
She came hard and fast, trying her best to keep her eyes open, right before looking up at my face. She clenched around me, and I knew I was done for. Any second now and I would finish. Just before it happened, she slid her hands up my neck, brushed the hair from my face, and brought me down to kiss her.
I moaned in her mouth as I came, keeping my hips pressed flush to hers and holding myself deep inside her. She moaned right back, swiping her tongue against mine as she squeezed her whole body around me and pulled me impossibly closer to her. In that moment, I didn't feel like it was just an orgasm... Which might sound cheesy and kind of stupid in retrospect, but it really felt that way. Right then, with her whole body holding mine and daring itself not to let go, it felt like every sense I had was stripped away and all that was left of me was her. As good as it felt to cum, it felt even better just being wrapped up in her in every capacity.
And that was why—even after we were finished and exhausted—we stayed just like that, wrapped up together on the couch with our lips moving lazily together until I felt myself start to drift off.
At that point, she'd somehow managed to pull me off of her and lean me back into the position I'd been in before, and my eyes struggled to stay open.
"I'm gonna go clean up," I thought I heard her say, and I wondered how she had the energy and stamina to stand up and walk around. But then again, I was so exhausted that I wasn't sure if anything that happened after we came down from our highs was even a coherent experience.
That being said, I managed to mutter an "Okay," while she disappeared and I tried to catch my breath. It only took about a minute before I realized that I was alone, and that she'd left to clean up the mess that I made. That seemed to snap me out of it, though not by much; I was still a little light-headed when I got up from the couch and started to collect my clothes from the floor.
I almost had my pants all the way on when I heard her voice from behind me.
"You don't have to leave... if you don't want."
I turned to face her, noticing that she was wearing a large nightshirt and probably nothing else. Even after she'd just gotten obliterated on the couch she still managed to look like the most angelic thing I'd ever seen. Or maybe I hadn't actually done as well as I thought, and she was the one who'd obliterated me... Either way, I felt bad for staying, especially knowing that she didn't even want to know my name.
So I shrugged, stifling a yawn. "No, it's fine, I... I should go. I don't want to intrude or anything, I—"
"Oh, please," she scoffed, walking up to me and placing a soft hand on my forearm. "As far as intrusion goes, I think we're way past apologies, don't you think?"
I smiled at that, admittedly leaning into her touch as her hand drifted up and to my cheek. "Okay. But only if you let me sleep on the couch."
"Don't be silly. You just fucked me on said couch, it's okay if you sleep in my bed with me."
I only shook my head, placing my hand on top of hers. "You didn't even want to know my name, which tells me that you probably aren't the type of woman to let men sleep in your bed with you after sex. Which is fine, don't get me wrong, but... I don't want to make you uncomfortable. And, I... I feel bad enough, I didn't help you clean up, I should have—"
"I'm gonna stop you right there," she said, removing her hand from my cheek and placing it on my bare chest instead. "That right there is why I don't mind if you sleep in my bed. Plus, it's late, you don't have a ride, and I can tell you're sleepy because you've been nodding off as we've been standing here. You can barely stand straight."
I didn't know what to say. Probably because she was right and I was nodding off right now.
She spoke again. "At least stay and rest for a few hours before you leave. And if it'll convince you to stay... You can have the couch."
I smiled lazily, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. "I'll be gone before you wake up."
"Well... In that case, can... Can I kiss you one more time?"
"You can do anything you want to me," I told her truthfully, and not even a second passed before she pressed her lips to mine.
Despite everything we'd just done and the fact that I was almost asleep, it was the hottest kiss we shared that night. I was sure of it. It was lazy and wet, and so filled with the aftermath of all that we'd experienced together that I almost fell to my knees, and not because I was tired. Her tongue grazed mine in the most purposeful way I'd ever felt in a kiss my entire life. The way she held me to her, her hands weaved in my hair and mine pressed firmly to the small of her back, had me tingling from head to toe.
To this day, it's still the best kiss I've ever had.
I swore to myself I would never forget that kiss, and I never have. I couldn't have, even if I tried.
When she pulled away, I almost chased her, but I let her go, opening my eyes to stare deeply into hers. She didn't move for the longest time before clearing her throat and taking a small step back.
"Goodnight," she whispered softly. She looked almost as dazed as I felt.
"Goodnight," I whispered back as she turned around and padded into the darkness.
***
As I stood at her kitchen counter four hours later, a pen in hand and hovering over the back of a receipt she'd had crumpled on it, I tried to think of what to write, even though I knew it probably didn't matter to her one way or another if I said anything at all...
At the very least I wanted her to know just how much that night meant to me, even if she didn't feel the same way. Even if she didn't want to remember my name, I needed her to at least remember my face, remember what we did... Remember me...
I recalled the song she sang. And then I wrote it down.
I had the best night, thank you.
Say you'll remember me...
—S.
***
"Nothing lasts forever
But this is gonna take me down."
—Taylor Swift, Wildest Dreams
***
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#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds smut
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Spring '21 anime list: What I tried, what I'm watching, and first impressions!
Shaman King (2021)
I hadn't heard about this show until the reboot was announced, and it seems neat so I'll give it a shot! Hesitation isn't quite the right word, but I am watching cautiously because there's a lot about early 2000's anime that should stay in the early 2000's. I'm prepared to take a certain amount of product-of-its-time-ness, but only so much.
I really like its unique visual style. It feels like it's got a similar vibe to Soul Eater and TWEWY with its chunky proportions and face design, and the squash-and-stretch animation really lends itself to comedic moments. I feel like there are some eminently cosplayable designs in my future.
Character-wise, it's only been one episode but I'm taking a liking to Yoh. Based on the OP I hope that Ryuu will be an early-antagonist-turned-loudmouth-friend like JJBA's Okuyasu or Sk8's Shadow. That's one of my favorite character tropes.
The World Ends With You the Animation
My friend is a huge TWEWY fan, so our group was really looking forward to this anime. I saw a little of the gameplay when the Switch version was released, up to the end of episode 1's plot. I know it's going to be excellent story wise, and I already may be planning on making cosplay of that Reaper with the skeleton hoodie.
I love a unique visual style and an awesome soundtrack, of course TWEWY already had that coming in. The CGI Noise are a little clunky, but allow for some really great fight sequences. The characters' CGI models are nearly seamless with the 2D. It feels like the plot is moving fast, but according to my friend they just skipped some fetch quests and puzzle solving that wouldn't have been interesting to animate.
I'm really looking forward to this one each week!
Dragon Goes House-Hunting
One of those "eh, we'll give it a shot" shows. A bunch of us have been eyeing real estate lately, so at the very least it's topical. If done right, the concept could be fun!
We spent most of the episode HATING the dragon's character design. Its proportions are just...awkward in every way. The neck is extremely short and thick and leads into a human-muscled torso, the arms are tiny twigs, and the legs are a little too human and a little too thick to be anything but unnerving. It's bad.
Oddly, except for the dragon, the rest of the creature designs are pretty great! In contrast to a lot of anime, they let them be really non-human and had a good design sense. The humor was solid, the Monster Hunter references were on point, and the character interactions were fun. The OP is GREAT, too!
We'll be continuing this one! If you can make your eyes stop hating you for forcing them to look at the Monster Factory reject of a dragon, I'd say give it a shot.
You Can Make A Mug Too
Now that Yuru Camp is over, we wanted another lighthearted anime that might teach us something while it's at it. You Can Make A Mug Too was one of our picks to sample because one member of anime night has recently acquired a kiln.
My impression is an approving but unenthusiastic "Fine, really." You can definitely tell it's an anime made to bring in tourism to the town it's based in. The characters don't really grab me, but they set up a solid emotional backbone for the story. The production quality isn't stunning, I was hoping for some nice pottery wheel animation but didn't get any.
It's probably a decent show, but we won't watch any more because of the next one on the list.
Supercub
Going straight from You Can Make A Mug to Supercub was like going from store-brand ice pops to fresh gelato. I can already tell this is my favorite anime of the season, hands down.
First, the production quality is excellent. The backgrounds are beautiful, the score is understated but well done to the point that Debussey's Clair de Lune felt like it had been made for the scene it was used for.
More than the production quality alone, this anime's direction is exceptional. It takes 'show don't tell' and uses it perfectly, using body language and soundtrack and shot composition to communicate as much or more than the sparse dialogue. Like, they made my heart skip a beat with nothing but color grading. THAT kind of exceptional.
I haven't spoken much about the plot because I really have no idea where it's going to go. Will we fill in why Koguma is so alone, or will we only move forward to seeing her connect? Will the past of that Supercub come back to haunt her? This feels like an anime that can and will absolutely wreck me, but at the starting line all I can say is I'm READY.
If you only watch one thing this season, watch Supercub.
Continuing anime:
My Hero Academia Season 5:
This season is interesting because for the first time, I think I'm going into it with almost zero spoilers (Dabi's real name is the only one I have). The only plot spoiler I thought I had, that Hawks was somehow working with the League of Villains, was revealed at the end of episode 1. I really enjoy going into things blind so I'm looking forward to this season!
However, the OP is the most disappointing thing out there. Nothing about the song, animation or composition is memorable or even noteworthy. Bones and MHA have access to all the money and talent in the industry and they best they can do is "Fine, I guess".
Yuukoku no Moriarty season 2 (Split cour):
I really enjoyed Moriarty's first season, but the second part of a split-cour always has the risk of running off the rails. What I enjoyed most about the first cour was the reverse-whodunit formula: Here's a terrible noble and the people they hurt, how does Moriarty get rid of them while making it look like an accident? The end of cour 1 started to focus heavily on Sherlock and I don't want the show's namesake to end up sidelined.
Knowing Irene was coming, I was really hoping for a Scandal in Belgravia that follows the books...at all, where the end of the story is that Irene escapes with the photo (except this time aided by the Moriarty brothers). Few or no Sherlock adaptations actually want to engage with the sexism of the era or today's, and just want to paint her as a blackmailer or temptress instead of a woman holding onto the power to protect herself. The beginning was extremely promising, but that went off the rails pretty quick. I still haven't yet seen an adaptation of Irene Adler that I like.
Zombieland Saga: Revenge
I watch this show because it's fun and ridiculous, and I get to hear Mamoru Miyano having the time of his life in the recording booth. I love this show because it always ends up surprising me with its solid emotional backbone. It looks like this season is shaping up to be more of the same!
What blew me away was this episode was the first time I saw a CGI dance sequence that I LIKED. Ever. The characters used different mocap so they weren't eerily in sync, the song and dance itself was well made and supported by excellent camera direction and shot composition, there were 2D cuts to closeups of the dancers as well as audience, and they actually pushed facial expression!
It's a good time. Give it a shot.
#seasonal anime#spring anime#spring anime 2021#shaman king#twewy#twewy the animation#dragon ie wo kau#yakunara mug cup mo#supercub#bnha#yuukoku no moriarty#zombieland saga revenge
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