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lizzieraindrops · 3 months

Note

Ikora/Eris (regular or hive flavor) throne world exploration, and/or discussion of hive magic and void light - playing with the idea that void is/was considered dangerous and difficult to wield

this prompt fill got combined with some other things I had going and turned into Chapter 2 of Presence and Absence! thank you for such a thought-provoking idea. enjoy!

Presence and Absence - Chapter 2 (2533 words)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Endless vibrant wetlands encircled Savathûn's castle-city in her throne world. Lush vegetation coated the rises. Water filled the valleys, moving too quickly to stagnate, yet too slowly to prevent prodigious blooms of Traveler knew what kinds of algae, bacteria, or other unclassifiable microorganisms.

Few of the Lucent brood bothered Ikora and Eris as the two of them picked their way along the high ground. A distant acolyte did fire one inquisitive shot, but the Void soul Ikora flung in the direction of its patrol squad quickly drained them all of existence. Their forms folded out of this and every reality as neatly as if they had never been. After that, the two humans were well left alone.

The energy her Void had consumed flowed back to Ikora, renewing her connection to it. With some discomfort, Ikora wondered if this felt anything like the tithes Eris had—until very recently—been taking for the past several months.

If so, Eris had walked away from a power that came as naturally to her as a Lightbearer's Light, after she herself had been long bereft of it. No one could deny that she had excelled at the sword logic, once she was the hand behind the blade rather than the throat beneath its edge. Elsie had been right about one thing: the smile that danced in Eris' voice. She had enjoyed this.

It was Ikora's job to worry about such things. And she had, of course, even while defending Eris to anyone who would listen and many who wouldn't. She had never been so profoundly afraid that she would finally lose Eris to her quest for revenge. How could she not, when Eris had become Vengeance itself?

But Eris' strength of character had put Ikora and all her necessary doubts to shame. Now Eris walked by her side lighter than ever: freed from both the shackles with which Savathûn had bid her bind herself, and from the burden of the task she had claimed long ago. She would never be free of what the Hive had done to her—what she had done to herself because of them. But she had proved, to herself and the entire world, that she was far more than just that.

Conflicting emotions knotted tight in Ikora's chest in a complicated snarl. With the intent of soothing it, she dropped her mind into the clear focus required by the Void and called up another Void soul. She did not activate it. She cupped it spinning between her hands for a moment, as if caught in the eddy of a current. Then she released it to orbit about her head like a little ringed moon.

Breaking the silence that had held them since their arrival, Eris spoke. "Your mastery of the Void is...exquisite," she said. As she spoke, she easily kept pace with Ikora’s longer stride, even fully armored once more.

Mild surprise seeped through Ikora, more at her own reaction than Eris' words. She had thought herself long past the point of being affected by flattery regarding her chosen, primal element. As Vanguard, she knew precisely to what degree she was the most competent and effective channeller of the Void currently in existence, at least as a Warlock. Ikora saw no purpose in comparing herself to past Guardians, not least because there was no accurate way to measure such things. On the other hand, Chalco always said to stop being so humble and admit that even then she was quite likely the best, period.

So why did Eris' simple yet genuine praise warm Ikora's cheeks?

"You never were that fond of Void, were you?" Ikora asked. A deflection.

A rueful smile flickered across Eris' lips. She shook her head. "I was always too impatient for its gravity. Perhaps now, after everything, I would be able to hold it differently. But alas, we shall never know.

"Arc called me to run as quickly as I desired. Then it bade me go even faster." Her smile returned sharp-toothed with the memory. She grinned at Ikora. "I could once Blink faster and farther than even you."

Ikora's eyebrows shot upward. "Oh, is that so?" she returned. "You're lucky you never told me that back when we hunted Ahamkara together. Otherwise I would have insisted that you prove it."

The sound of Eris' responding laugh was quiet. Yet it pealed and rang within Ikora as if her body were a bell of finest bronze tuned to its exact frequency. Hearing that unexpected mirth on the rarest of occasions, gradually more often in these last few years...it grew hope in her like a garden. If Eris Morn could laugh again, then even the greatest challenges of their era might yet diverge from their dire straits.

Violet unraveled into indifferent indigo as Ikora's Void soul decomposed into a more typical absence. The two women paused atop a tall bluff overlooking both the Miasma and the Quagmire. The green sky was brilliant and inscrutable with clouds and unknown celestial bodies that did not truly exist. The blunt Pyramid bleeding resonant burnt orange lay in the depths of the swamp like the antithesis of the Lucent city's lofty spires.

"It's funny, isn't it," Ikora mused. "For so long, we thought of Void as the most difficult, the most dangerous element to wield: the most prone to confuse, to corrupt. But you went on to learn to wield far more dangerous powers without falling."

Eris tilted her head back and forth. "Mmm. It is difficult to compare such things now to my previous lives. The powers I have claimed have been more unfamiliar, yes. Perhaps, from such a perspective, that is the same thing."

Ikora acknowledged her point with a yielding gesture of her hand. They began descending the other side of the bluff, following its sheer edge.

"Then again," Eris continued, "I cannot deny that the Hive's preoccupation with the sword logic does indeed make missteps in their spells more likely to be...costly."

Ikora was confident that her face did not betray an echo of her concern regarding the particular immense spell Eris had been casting for the past few months. It was over; Eris was still here. Nonetheless, a twinge of residual unease echoing from the memory of such deep fear unsettled her stomach. "That makes a certain amount of sense."

The two of them stopped again on a low rise of overgrown earth near the water line. Thick-trunked trees and crumbling spires studded the marshland. It was never silent here, where a hundred unknown small creatures flew and buzzed and swam and sloshed and grumbled and fed and grew and died. Some were unlike anything Ikora had ever encountered, even in the outer reaches of Sol’s system. Ikora wondered if any of them were resurrected memories from old Fundament, dredged from the witch queen's oldest recollections.

In the distance, a Lightbearer knight summoned twin Void shields with a resounding roar and flung one after another at a Scorn ravager brandishing a lantern full of sublimating ice.

"I wonder how the Lucent brood interprets the Void. They reject Stasis, yet despite the Void's similarity to it, they don't seem to have trouble using it. Although that may be because we only meet the competent in combat. How does the Hive's distinct concept of death influence their relationship with the ultimate paracausal expression of absence?"

Eris listened to the monologue of Ikora's thoughts as attentively as ever. She was so easy to talk to in some ways, so difficult in so many others. For the moment, Ikora opted to continue in this easier vein.

"Sometimes I still have to warn new Guardians not to get drawn in too deep by that vortex. Even though there are far more dangerous tools at their fingertips these days, it's still a little easier than I'd like to become lost in it. Perhaps, as a civilization on the brink of death, it is the echo of the Collapse that lives in us."

"That may be. But I think it more likely that such risk is the nature of any power."

"Perhaps. Or maybe, as you mentioned, it is more a question of...perspective."

Gently, Ikora reached into thin air and slipped her hand into the Weave.

"Oh!" Strand immediately coiled up her wrist and forearm like an excessively friendly colubrid. "It's very close to the surface here. It tends to be more challenging to summon this far away from Neomuna and the Veil."

"Hmm." Eris stepped closer, peering at it with eyes that were a slightly yellower and more luminescent shade of green. "Savathûn's throne world rests deeper in the Ascendant Plane than our own. And it is, by her own personal design, a realm that embodies thought and consciousness. Perhaps that is why."

"I suspect you are right."

"I did not expect to see you wield Darkness."

No trace of accusation tainted Eris' tone, but inwardly, Ikora flinched anyway. The advent of Stasis had precipitated one of the longest silences between them yet. Ikora had let Eris' letter regarding it go unanswered for so many months. She still hadn't replied, in truth. But hopefully, after everything—after supporting Eris through her ascension to dark godhood, however brief—hopefully, she knew that Ikora did not judge her. She never had. But the Eris who had survived the Hellmouth had always taken judgement in stride more easily than concern.

Ikora gathered a bundle of Strand like a handful of living green fronds. "I did not expect to, either," was all she said. She did not mention anything about how different Strand seemed from Stasis, nor about the intricacies of her mixed feelings toward either element. For now, she let it go.

She took pains to keep her grip gentle and nonurgent on the green fibers, lest they snap or ensnare her. Strand ran like a segment of an otherwise unseen river over the horizontal surfaces of her palms, vanishing as smoothly as it appeared. Then she lifted it up to chest height and held it out to Eris like a peace offering. As far as she knew, Eris had not yet had an opportunity to assess this newest emanation of the Darkness. Among so, so many other things these days, they had not yet discussed it.

"Here," Ikora said. "Careful, though."

With another step closer, Eris skimmed the surface of the spun emerald with the fingertips of one hand. Even before she touched it, it reacted to her with a ripple. Of course it was affected by perception; it was the essence of consciousness itself.

Eris stood only a pace away, hands floating like leaves above the riverbed of Ikora's palms. Channeling Strand as she was, Ikora felt the closeness of another being more intensely than usual. Eris was a ponderous presence in the Weave, a remarkably powerful conflux of catalytic intention, coiling recursively upon herself in unpredictable ways. Ever the Hunter, she was adaptive in the extreme. She was near impossible to pin down, even for Ikora, who had refined prediction to a paracausal art of probabilities with her Light.

Without moving or withdrawing from the magnetic parallel of their palms, Eris looked up.

Her eyes met Ikora's in a moment that rang like a soundless bell. Different threads of verdant potential cast themselves invisibly about their forms. She was very close.

The knowledge that Eris would kiss her if Ikora leaned in dropped into her mind like a plumb line, direct and true.

A few threads of the Strand in her hands snapped like static discharge. They both jumped back. Ikora dropped the ropy bundle back into the Weave and shook out her stung fingers. With the same alacrity, she leapt forward again to ascertain that Eris was unhurt.

"Eris! Are you alright? Sometimes it throws unraveling needles when it snaps. Did any hit you?"

A distinct lack of concern kept Eris' voice smooth as she said, "Only one." She lifted her hand up to eye level to peer at the tiny green needle embedded in her glove. "How curious." She plucked it out with ease and tossed it away as if it were a mere wooden splinter. Before it could hit the ground, it had vanished whence it came.

Ikora grabbed the hand that had been struck and examined it herself. Impossibly, paracausally sharp as it was, the needle had left a pinhole in even the tough chitin of Eris' gauntlet, as clean and perfectly round as if an awl had punched through paper.

"Did it pierce the armor?"

"Only by the smallest amount. Even so, it–"

Ikora had already thrown a healing rift about the two of them.

"Ikora." The annoyance in Eris' voice was balanced with something softer, something perhaps almost fond. "I am, as I know that you know, now, not so fragile. I have had papercuts far worse."

"That isn't the point." Ikora scowled at the pinhole and rubbed at the spot with a thumb.

"Then what is?"

Ikora looked up to answer and found Eris, once again, very close. Closer than comfort would condone, if Ikora were honest with herself. But she had not lived this long, had not become Warlock Vanguard—had not become Ikora Rey—by letting her fears make her back down, back away. She held her ground, and spoke a truth.

"I don't want to hurt you, Eris. No matter how little."

Eris did not retreat, either. She held Ikora's gaze with all the intensity of the soulfire that animated her pupil-less eyes. Her reply came as the softest possible utterance. "Then what do you want?"

"I—ah..." What did she want? It was not a question she often gave thought to, other than the larger-than-life calling to see the remains of humanity preserved and protected; the need to see Eris safe. Furthermore, it was difficult to devote thought to the matter now, with Eris so close, hand still in hers. It only reminded her of the unexpected knowledge that had startled Ikora enough to make this whole scene in the first place.

Eris lifted the hand that Ikora was not holding. It hovered in the space between them, and for a moment, Ikora thought that it would touch her cheek. Her eyes widened. But then Eris lowered it to their clasped hands and gently squeezed.

The rift centered on them collapsed in a puff of humid air.

"Perhaps we might...continue this conversation elsewhere," Eris said, releasing her and stepping back on the damp grass. "Think on your answer. I am curious to know it."

Ikora shook her head to clear it. "Of course," she said, not quite knowing what she meant. But she could not imagine denying Eris an answer. Not now. Not after everything they had been through together. Not less than a week after the fear of losing Eris had shaken her to her core, more deeply than ever before. "Have you found what you were looking for?"

Eris smiled at her. An actual smile, small but unmistakable. Undeniable. "I do believe I have."

They took a last long look over the vast plane of the seething wetlands, then left that gleaming conscious world behind.

#ikora rey #eris morn #erikora #eris/ikora #ikoris #destiny 2 #destiny 2 fanfiction #season of the witch #destiny strand #lizzie's adventures in writing #lizzie taking up space #fic #long post #synnthamonsugar #write about ikora long enough and your fic will turn into a philosophy dissertation jflkdsa;skdlfd #this prompt has been living in my head and inbox for MONTHS.#delighted to finally share with you all as im quite proud of it.

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predestinatos · 5 months

Text

love me down? — CL16 𓍢ִ໋ ᰔᩚ

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: it's time to confront feelings over mcdonald's and a beach view

word count: 4k

tags: a bit angsty not gonna lie, vulnerable!charles is so interesting to write, finally they get it together (kind of), smut at the end - absolutely filthy btw.

minors dni ──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! warnings & note underneath

note: so so sorry for the delay in updates! i've been busy on my dissertation, staying home alone for a few days and traveling along with writing some articles for my uni newspaper so things have been crazy here. but i appreciate all the support and patience.

warnings: rough sex, kitchen sex, spit is involved, charles is very... domineering

“Thank you” you smiled softly to the girl handing you the McDonald’s bag and the two big cups of coke, which you promptly asked for Charles to hold as you proceeded to drive away.

Your hands gripped the stirring wheel as you drove – upon Charles’ insistence that he wanted to see you doing it, and also because it would raise less suspicion and attention if you both did so. The night was calm and slightly warm, allowing for the windows to be opened and the breeze ran through your hair wildly.

You felt his gaze on you, noticing how he stared unapologetically at you from the corner of your eye, a warm smile plastered across his face, his eyes half open – details that you didn’t notice but knew, out of the sheer amount of time you were now spending together, his expressions becoming familiar and recognizable, like a painting you hang on your bedroom and see every morning when you wake up.

“Stop staring, it distracts me,” you said jokingly, your shoulders tensing as you smiled shyly and tried to fix your hair with one hand, the other remaining on the wheel. “Now you know how I feel” he replied, popping a French fry in his mouth.

You allowed yourself half a second to look at him with confusion, your eyebrows furrowed as you moved your head questioningly. “What do you mean?” you asked, as you opened your hand towards him and demanded for him to give you a french fry.

“I mean when we all hang out and you sit at the back of my car and all I can see is you from the rearview mirror” he replied, his arms stretching towards your mouth instead of your hand, placing the food in it carefully. You knew the order of these actions was deliberate – first he admitted to something, then he would shush you somehow, as if to let that admission disappear or go unnoticed, or for him to think of something to say that would somehow lessen it.

The cold tone of his eyes remained on you, however, letting silence fill the car, as you noticed you hadn’t put music on, relying on each other’s voices and company instead. With your mouth still half full, you kept questioning his attentive gaze: “we haven’t all hung out in your car in ages, though.” You swallow, hoping he understood what you said between chewing and speaking.

Charles laughed softly, both at your statement and at your attempt to multitask, which he tried to unconsciously replicate by removing the Coca-Cola cup from the bag without taking his eyes off of you. “I know,” he realized that was all he could say, and that it was enough for you to understand its underlying meaning.

You were now arriving at an empty beachside, one which both of you knew because that was where you spent your teenage years amongst the people you loved. “I thought you hated me though,” you said, more seriously than you intended, your hand on the gearstick as you moved it to reverse. He shrugged as he took his seatbelt off, placing one leg under the other one, his sweatpants revealing a comfort he had acquired with you over the past months. “I thought so too,” he replied, chuckling.

You turned the car off but didn’t find his tale all that amusing, how both your and his feelings were now drifting unknowingly and dissolving, getting harder to recognize and pinpoint.

Noticing your discomfort, Charles’ hand once again went through his hair, nervousness hard to disguise, his dark brown locks suddenly in a desperate need to be fixed. You grabbed your order from the bag placed upon his lap, unthinkingly. Months prior, just the idea of being in a car with him seemed ridiculously unrealistic, and now touching him was voluntary and thoughtless, which highlighted the contrast of your words.

“I’ve always found you attractive” his voice interrupted, as he took a bite of his cheeseburger. You reflected his movements, but looking at him, eyebrows raised and interest spiking. The short seconds he took to chew and swallow seemed like an eternity, the urge to hear him continue almost as big as his urge to keep talking. “Even when you annoyed the shit out of me” he laughed shortly, and this time you did too, your head rising towards the ceiling of the car. “It’s true! It just made you even more insufferable” he repeated, his free hand adjusting a lock of your hair behind you ear in caring amusement.

Your eyes met his as you took a sip of your drink, interrupting him before he went on a full monologue. “Thank you for the flattering confession,” you joked back, mimicking him by putting a lock of his hair behind his ear – an almost impossible task. “Come on, I knew you felt attraction towards me as well,” he tilted his head and leaned back, arms crossed smugly, trying to hide the slightly damaged ego. “You were alright,” your answer made him bring his hand to his chest dramatically, a comical expression screaming ‘how dare you’ in sheer playfulness.

“Grumpy men aren’t my type” you continued, placing a French fry in your mouth with feigned innocence. “Bratty girls aren’t mine either yet here we are” Charles replied, a soft gleam in his eyes as he looked at you, the breeze entering the car through the open window and touching his hair softly, daring to caress him when you couldn’t, wouldn’t.

Here we are. That sentence reverberated through your body like an enigma you couldn’t solve. Where exactly were you two? In a limbo of unspoken feelings and mere subtle hints of tenderness, an unbreakable vow of secrecy that can only be expressed through metaphors? In a car, desperate to feel each other’s devoted affection, yet refraining to do so, like a painting in a museum you can’t get too close to?

Charles knew he had said the wrong thing, or at least not the good enough thing for the moment. This back and forth used to be amusing and entertaining when nothing was at stake. But now it seems like both of you had gambled too much, and the few chips you had were holding you together at a table where whatever happened could not be seen as a victory.

He said the only thing that came to his mind at that moment. An earnest and genuine “I’m sorry” left his lips as he looked outside the window. You let out a breath, accepting the apology despite the fact that you didn’t quite know the reason for it. Was he apologizing for the comment that ignited this tension? For letting things spiral to this in the first place? You weren’t sure he knew it either, yet you knew he meant it enough for you to not hold it against him.

But maybe it was your turn to get into his head, as selfish as this sounded. You didn’t hold it against him but that didn’t mean you didn’t have half thoughts and half feelings to let out. “It was hard not being bratty with you,” you heard yourself say, as his head turned towards you. You forced yourself to hold his gaze, despite the fact that you felt heat rushing to your cheeks as you spoke. “You got under my skin like no one else. Still do,” you bit your lip, holding back a smile that threatened to creep up on your face. It was hard to hide your amusement at his own bewildered look, incredulous at what you had said could imply.

“You don’t know how many times I wanted to be alone with you” his voice, almost a whisper, traveled through the car along with the nightly air and the soft waves crashing far away. You swallowed dryly, despite the cold cup resting between your legs and the comfort it could’ve provided you in a time like this.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, curiosity, or maybe sheer tension, filling your body as you felt him getting closer to you, closing the gap between both of your seats. “I did, eventually,” his breath hit your neck, his knowledge of this particular weakness of yours making you even weaker, realizing you gave him the power to get to you like this. His chuckle filled your ears and sent goosebumps throughout your body like an orchestra of sensations. “And it’s not like you made it particularly easy for me,” he continued, kissing your neck lightly enough to make your body shiver, his hand now resting on your leg and caressing it with sensuous ease.

“Really?” you played along, irony lacing your lips the way you both liked to play. “How come?” your voice broke upon the sentence as his murmur of affirmation to your question mixed with his kisses down your neck and his now tightened grip on your leg blurred your senses.

Before he could properly reply, your phone vibrated in your pocket, disrupting the tension building up between you two. You cursed under your breath as you pulled it out, reading the name on the screen and locking it again, deciding to reply later. “It’s my sister,” you say, even though you knew you needn’t justify yourself. Nevertheless, you did. You hoped he’d do the same in his own case.

“Oh, is everything alright? She’s in Austria, right?” he asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. You nodded in response. “Yeah, she’s alright. It’s a drunk selfie, I’ll text her later,” you laughed as you continued, your drink finishing just like his. He laughed, more to himself than to you, as he shook his head negatively. “That’s brave for a Linguistics student” he joked.

His words made you realize something, which you couldn’t help but point out to him, question him about. “How do you know those things? About my sister, I mean” you clarified, your eyes interlocked with his. “You’ve mentioned it sometimes when we all hung out,” he shrugged, the answer seeming so simple and uncomplicated, almost making you feel ridiculous for asking. Yet you stood, motionless. “I may seem annoyed, but I am listening, you know.”

You felt your body freeze at his words, a realization of something you had never considered before. Because it’s not only that he was listening; he remembered. Things you didn’t particularly say to him – in fact, you ignored him most times, only using the basic politeness when strictly necessary – were engraved in his mind when they did not have to be. They could’ve been mere writings on sand for him, ones which the sea would wash away carelessly, yet they weren’t.

And suddenly, you were tired. Of the breeze, of the jokes, of the hiding, of the unknown. Of crying, of laughing, of shrugging it off and trying not to think about it. Of the lack of answers, of the increasingly infinite number of questions. You’ve felt sadness, but now it was time for anger – unfortunately, you did not know whom to aim it at. To him? For not being able to admit the very same thing you couldn’t admit either? To yourself? For protecting your emotions from the person who has shown in the past his inconsistencies, his lack of commitment and emotional availability?

He felt it then. He did not know how or why – whether your breath give it away, how you blinked more rapidly than usual and your eyelashes seemed to bat away the painful realization – but he felt that if he did not do something, say something, before you did, all this would end. And in those brief seconds everything flashed before him: the endless amount of decisions and routes that he could take here, how it would be easy in the short term to accept what you had to say and let you drive him home, drink it away, fuck it away, text someone else, kiss someone else. But the long term painful knowledge of feeling your skin on his when he wakes up at 4am in your room, to witness your eyerolls when he jokes around, to witness your existence quietly – that suddenly felt unbearable.

Your fists were clenched in repressed anger, so were his, though the reasons differed – but the source of them didn’t. It had now become a race against time, daring each other to speak, to do something before the other did, scared of the words that might come out each other’s mouths.

You beat him to it – maybe the only game where you actually won, yet a victory that tasted as a loss, where the podium took more from you than it gave, no morning glory or praise in your eyes or his. “I don’t think I can keep doing this” was all you said as you forced yourself to look into Charles’ eyes, notice how you could tell something in him shifted despite his lack of movement. Despite the fact that he had seen in it coming, he couldn’t help but feel a sharpness in his chest that threatened to break his whole body apart from the inside out. He had nothing to lose anymore, and knowing this, he knew he had to at least put up a fight with himself.

“It’s a shame because I think I’m starting to get feelings for you,” he tried to act natural, almost slightly careless but it did not work, not when your eyes stared deeply into his, confusion written all over them. “I mean I can’t get you off my mind. These hang outs we have are all that I look forward to. I mean that I wish I could just tell you how much I crave your presence at every moment. That part of me feels such anger towards you precisely because you make me feel weak. I hate myself for feeling these things almost as much as I do for not expressing them to you earlier. And I care. I care so much I wish I could be brave enough to ask you to text me when you get home, when you wake up, when you go out. I want to talk to you or stay in silence or eat or do anything, I don’t fucking know what I’m saying but I want this to keep going and I am so fucking selfish for it, I know I am.”

Charles bit his lip, out of nervousness, anger, or sadness – neither of you quite knew. All you knew was that the words that came out of his mouth could never be unsaid, that whatever happened after this could never repair whatever dynamic you two had, and even though you both knew that the first time he stayed after your party, it was now a reality you had to confront.

“Don’t do this to me, Charles” you begged, your voice breaking slightly as it whispered his name, the taste of it so different from before, so foreign it seemed like you were calling someone else. “It’s really fucking mean of you to do this,” you continued, as your hand flew to the car key and started it, your intention to leave the conversation in the sand, let it be consumed by the sea, erased, cleaned.

You drove and drove, although you felt like the car was operating itself, your mind not as much on the way to Charles’ place but more on retracing the steps that brough you two here. He didn’t highlight his presence either. Both of you felt so insanely alone in that car it was almost maddening, a solitary confinement worse than any other punishment: being alone together.

And so when your car came to a halt in the parking lot and you inhaled deeply, accepting the fact that this was probably the last time you would ever have him like this, considering what you’d do differently had you known that when you woke up, he tried one last time.

His hand was so close to opening the door but refused to do so before both his body and his mind had the answer to the question that would solve it all. Every single one of his next movements would depend on how you replied, and he was, not for the first time, immediately aware of your control over him. “Knowing all this, knowing it would come to this in the end- would you have kicked me out of your apartment that night?”

For some inexplicable reason, you did not hesitate then. Your head moved, so slightly it could go unnoticed, in a nod. Then, as if you were watching your own self from afar, you nodded once more, clearly, affirmatively, and confidently, despite your runny nose and teary eyes. You adjusted your hair once again, the mess a reflection of your own thoughts and his – tangled and complicated.

Yet, your reply triggered all of Charles’ courage, made his words come out strong and reassuring at the same time, as he tried, not desperately but incessantly, to make you see what he couldn’t show. “Then why can’t we keep going? You want me to show you I need you, here I am. I need you. I need this, and this might be the most vulnerable I can be with you right now but I am trying. I’ll say it as many times as you want and I’ll leave if you want me to because that’s how much I need you. I need you so much I’m willing to let you go if that’s what you want.”

His reply made you feel your own heart speeding, its pace matching his, though you were both unaware of it. Your hands were shaking at the same rhythm as his hands, the ones that were now opening the door in defeat, but that were stopped by you gripping his arm, feeling him finally, pleading him to stay. He barely had the time to close the door again, leaving it ajar as he turned to you and felt your lips on his, soft and needy and begging for him to stay. He deepened the kiss hungrily, his teeth biting your bottom lip in confirmation of his presence before you.

Remembering where you two were, you pulled away, looking at his unusual post kiss expression. Although the red lips and blissed eyes remained, he was serious, rather than smug, questioning if this was a last goodbye or a beginning. You smiled to yourself at that, his innocent look when he lost control of a situation giving away his honesty.

The atmosphere was still tense despite the fact that the air had been cleared out by his words and the tears washed away by the foggy windows, yet you couldn’t help but bite your lip, holding back a laugh as you said, “so does this mean I have to cancel things with Oscar?”

Charles’ soft giggle and playful “fuck off” made you feel at home more than ever, as you knew now that he was comfortable with you holding that door. And as he stepped out of your car, he leaned down and popped his head in once again, teasingly asking you “want to come inside so I can answer that for you?” – to which you merely smirked as you removed your seatbelt.

As soon as the elevator doors closed and until you made all the way to the 16th floor Charles’ hands were on your waist, your legs, your chest, and everywhere possible, as he tried feeling all of you at once, greedily caressing your skin. You needed him just as much, your own arms around his neck as your hands pulled his soft hair, sometimes with enough strength his groan was audible, but so addictive you couldn’t get enough of it.

The elevator doors opened and somehow you made it into his apartment, not registering any inch of it – you had grown to know it all too well to have to look around for the last few months. With your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands holding you by your thighs, he took you to the closest spot he could find and placed you there, your ass suddenly feeling the cold surface underneath. Sitting on his marble kitchen counter, you watch as his attitude shifted back to the cocky and possessive one you knew so well. Charles didn’t hesitate to take his shirt off, followed by his sweatpants, which revealed everything already. However, the sight of his naked body between your legs drove you insane, your head spinning with the heat of desire. Completely naked, yet standing above you, his voice, so distinct from the soft and vulnerable from before, demanded: “take your clothes off”

You complied, never breaking eye contact as he fisted his own cock, its length making your mouth water and your entrance embarrassingly wet, yet that embarrassment quickly faded as his gaze lowered towards it, dark lust spreading across his eyes. Unapologetically, he eyes you up and down, eyes resting on your breasts, your nipples hard, your whole body giving away how delirious with desire you felt.

“God your body is insane” he started, his hand still on his erection, moving frantically and out of pace, trying to replicate the feeling of being inside you, yet unsuccessfully. You dropped your shy attitude, replacing it instead with a newly found confidence highlighted by the confirmation of his primal desires.

“Quit jerking yourself off and fuck me, Charles” your voice sounded aggressive and soft at the same time, and caught him so off guard you saw his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let out a ravenous growl.

Without warning, he pushed himself into you, burying his length deep inside your cunt, your wetness allowing him to move perfectly. “Fuck it’s like you were made for me” his voice, now much deeper, erupted against your neck, his face buried in it as one hand held on to your thigh tightly, and your pain was nothing when compared to how full he made you feel, how your whole body responded to him with absolute pleasure. “You were made for me, weren’t you?” he asked, pulling away from you to grip your face in his hand, a gesture so possessive and animalistic it made your eyes water in a haze. You tried nodding, although it was hard given how strong his grip was, how out of control and light-headed you felt, making it impossible for you to speak either.

His thrusts continued, aggressive and ravenous, as he unleashed all of his cravings on you. “Open your mouth” he ordered between breathy growls that pushed you over the edge. You obeyed, mouth open and tongue out as you looked at him in the eyes, some of his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat, his muscles tense and his body a complete masterpiece as it moved inside you. You knew what he was going to do, yet it still took you by sheer surprise, a cry leaving your lips as he spat directly towards your mouth, pulling your hair back to be able to look at you clearly.

You couldn’t even imagine the wreck you now looked like before him – completely blissed out and lustful, desperate for release. “All mine, f-fuck” you heard him say, despite the fact that you could barely think or even see, the sensations all mingled as one as you carved your nails in his toned arms.

“You’re mine, Charles” you tried finding your assertive voice, remind him he wasn’t the only one in charge, that you too had an upper hand in this. “All fucking m-mine, just like you want” you cried out as you felt him exploding inside you whilst your name left his lips.

The feeling of him coming and filling you was enough for you to come as well, your body shaking around his as he remained inside you, letting you keep every part of him.

As you stilled your breaths, his lips dropped a soft kiss on your forehead and his hand caressed your cheek. The change caused you to giggle, your brain still foggy from the intensity of the session you just had. “Let’s take a shower. Together” you finally said, allowing him to know that everything he had said was as reciprocate as he desired.

You two didn’t have a name or definition yet, but for now, the mutual need for each other’s presence was enough.

@buendiabebeta @janeholt3 @ruleroftheuniverse @trentsgirl @teenagedreams-cl @cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1blr #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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sipsteainanxiety · 9 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

i was tagged by @coopigeoncoo @andypantsx3 @willowser and @namodawrites to do this lil self fic rec game and after finally sitting down to think about it for a very... long... time... i have done it! thank you all for the tag i kiss you each on the forehead and give you a bowl of sliced fruit<3

after looking at all the wips i have in docs right now, i can definitely say that this list would be completely different if i had finished a few of them, but for now this is my ranked list for things i've published already lol

devil's glare — demon!bkg x reader

bakugou katsuki is a powerful demon that you have the pleasure of dating. but when he pisses you off one day, you decide to get back at him in a pretty petty way: drawing a salt circle around you to force him to apologize

i had THEE most fun writing this one shot LMAO. it was based on a tiktok of all things that i'd found back when i was still on the app pfft. i just loved the idea of bkg being all surly and aggravated that his little human had purposely drawn a salt circle to prevent him from encroaching on their space. and like... him dealing with wanting to idk kiss you so bad but you're trying to teach him a lesson and he's sooooo mad and fuck, he's gonna do whatever he can to get you to comply to him lmao. if i could draw, there's this one scene where you're wearing this like. cute little set of pjs staring up at this big ass demon, wings unfurled threateningly, snarl on his face, arms crossed with a line of salt in between the two of you. like i have a vision. too bad i can't draw it LMFAOO. maybe one day

2. holding out (just for you) — dragon!bkg x reader

in which you find a horrendously injured dragon in a cave and make it your duty to heal him, not knowing that he’s the infamous dragonshifter, bakugo katsuki, who has been cursed to remain trapped in his dragon form forever—unless the spell is broken

this fic... oh boy. i've been working on this fic since mmm 2021 i think? i can't believe it's been a year since the big bang LMFAOO. i also can't blv this shit evolved from being a standalone to having 3 spinoffs and a sequel but well. here we are. complaints aside i really do have fun writing this fic!! i dunno!! i dont think i'd ever read a dragon bkg fic before and i was like fine i'll do it myself and this happened. i added way too much plot and you guys don't even know about half the worldbuilding and shit i have planned for the sequel HAHA. i can't even talk about it bc it would be major spoilers rn rhrsfjhrjfrjrhjg. it's also been giving me such a rough time lately pfft, especially with having to make sure everything lines up for the spinoffs n stuff. im so afraid of publishing ch4 and having to go back and tweak things bc i havent planned out far enough sdkjfsjkdf. i think it just means i'm gonna have to go on a hiatus or smthn and write out all the spinoffs + ch4 at once idk

3. and i give my all (to you) — merman!bkg x reader

you think you bit off more than you could chew when you decided to do your dissertation on ocean acidification, leaving you stranded out in the open ocean. alone. for months. well… maybe you weren’t so alone after all

this is another fic that i've been working on way longer than it's been posted for pfft. i can't blv the first chapter was released over a year ago LMAOOO i am so sorry. i do like this fic tho bc it's one of the easier ones to write and i go back to it sometimes between writing for dragon bkg lol. like i have the chapters all mapped out, all i have to do is sit down and write em. ch2's at abt 3k rn tho and i hit a spot where i'm like oof i dont wanna write these descriptions dfhdkfg it's just a silly goofy story with merbaku and dealing with some of the subtle intricacies of getting to know a mermaid. actually, fun fact, this originally started off as a fic for jotaro from jjba, back when i was in my jjba era. but then i went back to my bkg era and switched it over. i didn't even have to change much LMFAOO jotaro and bkg act the same sometimes. also!! this is the first fic where i'm like... drawing little doodles for each chapter!! and it's so nice but also i'm like damn wtf do i draw for the rest of these chapters.... i'll figure it out ig

4. loving all the parts of you — pro hero!bkg x reader

in which you learn to love all the prickly parts that make up bakugou katsuki

i.. don't think i've thought about this fic for a very, very long time. but i just scrolled thru the masterlist and stuff and i... really liked writing it (when i was focused on it anyways). it's one of my gentler fics tbh. it's more of a character study of bkg, exploring a different aspect of him in each chapter. tbh i need to go through and reread it and make edits so it can better match the writing style i have now, but i rly liked thinking abt what would make bkg tick as a pro and as a person. and tbh, with what i know now of the manga and anime i think i could go very deep with it pfft. also the banner i made for this fic is so cute LOL. it's not high on my priority list rn bc i have other things i wanna work on, but i do hope to return to it one day.

5. forget me not — pro hero!bkg x reader

When you first woke up, you found yourself in a white room, lights blinding you from all directions. A bit disoriented, you squinted and looked around, realizing you were chained to a chair, your arms locked behind you. In front of you was a poster of a man, muscles rippling throughout his body, a spiky mess of ash blond hair nestled on his head, and striking crimson eyes glaring right at you from behind a black mask. In the upper right corner was the name “DYNAMIGHT” in black and orange letters. As you observed the poster, the sound of a P.A. system suddenly rang into existence, the deep, hoarse voice of an unknown person echoing around you. “Your name is [Name] [Surname],” the voice said without emotion, “and you hate the man named Bakugou Katsuki.”

THIS FIC... THIS FCKIN FIC. i have so much i can say about this fic and i am so sorry for the oncoming ramble pfft. firstly, it's both my baby and my number one fucking enemy. like, holy shit i think it gave me the most paralyzing anxiety and bc of this it took me like 3-4 years to finish (apart from being generally busy of course). i started it literally while i was in high school n applying to college, so of course there are aspects of it that i look at now and i'm like mmm don't like that. not to mention there have been so many things that happened in the anime/manga that i wasn't able to add or delve deeper into!! like the war!! bkg's fcking trauma!! midoriya's quirks!! i was an anime only when i first started releasing chapters (and i still am), so i didnt know about the endeavor agency arc or anything so i defaulted to shit with best jeanist and idkidk.

if i could rewrite all of fmn, i think i would. or maybe not all, but a good chunk of it. like i'd condense the first few chapters probably. i also have a different grasp of bkg's characterization now compared to when i was younger lmao. putting bkg in that specific circumstance (iykyk, i wont spoil it) only happened bc of certain outside factors that forced him into that position. which was how i was able to justify it. but... idk. IDK!! this fic had so many things to it that i was not knowledgeable about so i winged a lot of things without doing proper research (i.e. hospitals, police investigations, general bureaucracy and whatnot) and i feel like this has caused certain plot holes that i am not able to detect, but like.... it's been so long already that i'm too lazy to fix it.

i just really wanted to write about having amnesia but... still having this muscle memory and ache of the person you were in love with. that you can fall in love with them all over again. but, jeez, i put the reader through so much that there's so much... trauma and brainwashing and just rhhrhjrkhrhgrkjg. she's a mess and a half!! and this makes it so difficult to read fmn bc she's so frustrating!! but! at the same time idk it was interesting exploring that kind of ptsd and recovery. i think at my core i love writing about truly heartwrenching topics and horror. i rmb i had the most fun writing about reader's nightmares or that one chapter where she was messing around with illusions. actually- one of the things i would change is the reader's fckin quirk and hero name LMAOOOOO what the fuck i made her so op i basically just smashed together dr strange's and wanda's powers for her pfft. i'd also tweak her personality a little, i think.

i digress. anyways. im in the process of editing all of fmn (just like. writing tweaks. changing the phrasing of certain sentences. adding more fluff to descriptions) and i can really see how much my style has evolved lol. like, i am the most happy and proud of the later chapters, where you can really feel certain emotions with bkg and reader. like... the beach scene, or the stakeout scene, or the party scene!! i think i would also add more substance to the investigation and how being a hero is like post-war. the antagonists as well!! there's just so much that could've been built on, but at the same time... i didn't want to go too deep into it bc i was writing an amnesia recovery story.

flaming aside, i am very glad i was able to pull those plot twists successfully LOL. i loved reading people's theories back when i was still updating it, seeing them question things and being like wait a minute... no way... it can't be... it was an era i will never forget pfft. but... because of that expectation i think i was very nervous to reveal specific things or even write the ending bc i didn't know if people would be satisfied lol. fmn was so complicated and for what sdfkjhs. fanfic shouldnt make you this anxious fr and yet there i was. i'm glad im done with it, but at the same time.. i do miss it.

tldr: fmn is the fic that i am the most proud of but also the most insecure LMFAOO. i do eventually want to get to the extra chapters from bkg's pov for it but... idk. i don't wanna even look at it right now sdhfskdfjsf

thank u all for coming to my ted talk B) i'm sorry if u've been tagged alr in this but here we go anyways!! no pressure tags: @earthtooz @call-me-ko @thecatduet422 @boo-kugo @theloveinc <3

#jeez that fmn ramble rly is long but it is what it is #i could go on even more about it ngl #but i wont sdkhksdf #gamer girling w shay

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therentyoupay · 1 year

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Hi, I was just wondering if technical difficulties is abandoned?

I hope you’re doing well!

*drops in after 5 years and 4 months with a technical difficulties chapter update*

*disappears*

cover art made by @angel-gidget ♡

03/08/23. HELLO, HELLO, HELLO, ALL, LONG LONG LONG TIME, NO SEE. ♡ Can you believe it? When I first published this story (first to tumblr, then to ao3), I had just moved to Japan! When I posted ch. 7, I was still living in Japan, and would stay there for another 7ish months... and in the 5 years and 4 months since posting the last chapter, I have moved to three different cities in the United States and started a Ph.D. program. (I am currently halfway through my PhD program!!!!!) What a wild ride. Also, we lived through the pandemic?! And I bought a house! Over the summer! The market was vicious.

So, then how did I get the inspiration/time/energy/motivation to write Ch. 8, you ask? Marvelous question. I lied down in bed last night to go to sleep "early" and ended up reading an utterly hilarious play-by-play commentary on Bad Books, Good Times of a popular fantasy novel series—and I'm not quite sure what it was about "poorly written books explained by hilariously clever book lovers" but I suddenly had a craving for fanfiction, so I opened up my Books app on my phone, and my eyes fell upon a sudden recommendation for my downloaded copy of technical difficulties. And I thought, "Am I suddenly and weirdly in the mood to jot down some notes to start Ch. 7 right now? By golly, I think I am."

4.5 hours later, I'd written the whole damn thing from scratch on my phone in my Notes app. (Messily! Half-assed! But I wrote all of it down!) I then spent another 6.5 hours today filling in the gaps and "editing." This chapter (and the one that will follow it) has been in my head for more than half a decade, but I just haven't had the space to get it out until now!!

I think one of the most beautiful parts of getting a PhD is how completely it blows your perfectionism tendencies utterly to bits, and one of the really interesting byproducts that has come up in my acdemic writing is just how quickly I can crank out decent-enough writing (skill-building!!). In my case, I think so much of it has to do with just being able to word vomit fairly well while not trying to fix anything until the whole damn thing is basically done. So, I applied that knowledge here! Behold!

This isn't to say that I'll be writing the final chapter anytime soon—I may be on spring break right now and may have had a stroke of Writing Inspiration in the Wild™ last night, but I'm still finishing my last semester of classes and learning advanced Python and working on my milestone paper for my doctoral program and preparing to present at my next conference in June and preparing my proposal for my dissertation next fall. BUT! The important thing is that I will post the last chapter of this story (and all my other stories)! Eventually!! ;)

No BETA for this chapter because I gotta THROW this out onto the internet and get back to coding, so bear with! I may do minor edits for it in the near or distant future. Also, please note that I have not watched any episodes of Miraculous Ladybug after the finale of Season 1, so this fic is very much a ~time capsule~ from the past. If there is any additional lore that might otherwise apply to the plot of this fic, please know that I don't know about it, and I am keeping myself selectively ignorant on all matters of Miraculous Ladybug season 2 and beyond until after I finish this story the way I originally intended. ♡ Woo!

as for, tumblr, sadly, to be honest, I'm never really online anymore! I'll respond to comments here on ao3 ASAP, though. ♡ LOVE YOU ALL, THANK YOU. ♡♡♡

#roarlikethunder #miraculous ladybug #therentyoupay fic: technical difficulties #marichat #ladynoir #adrienette #ladrien #love square #therentyoupay fic update!!#i hope you're doing well too!!#therentyoupay anon

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dawnrider · 5 months

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Woohooooo congratulations on 20 years of writing!!! ✧˖° ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ I'm following A Silent Affair and can't wait for the next chapter (I'm millimillenary on AO3, I’ve commented a couple times, you know I'm loving it!!)!

I know you originally published the story a while back so I thought I'd ask (as someone who hasn’t read it before), what are some of the changes you make as you repost it? Are they all minor edits or is there anything a bit more substancial you'd like to change?

As for your other works, as time goes by, do you look at them any differently? I look at fics I've written 2-3 months ago and think "god, I should've done this completely different", focusing way more on editing than I do on the story layout, which is why they stay as WIPs and never get posted (҂ ꒦ິヮ꒦ິ) Any advice on how to break the never-ending editing cycle?

You are an inspiration! I hope one day I get to celebrate the same milestone as you are. Your writing makes me feel all the feels and I can’t thank you enough for that! 💕💕💕

Hello @heikeee!

For A Silent Affair, it's mostly been edits to the punctuation, a little bit to the formatting, and a few changes to sentence structures. And removing more than a few epithets. The plot has remained the same, though I added in a few more details about the world they exist in.

As to your question, I'm 💯a pantser. I don't plot out stories or make outlines. This has it's pros and cons, so I'm not saying one way is better than another. What I will say, is that I don't let myself edit too much. I look for typos, I read through for sentence structures and possibly add details, but for the most part, I play 52 card pick up: Throw everything down and see where they end up. I write out of order, I write scenes as I imagine them, and then I patchwork quilt them together later.

All that to say: Sometimes you just gotta let it go. If posting is your goal? Just do it. Rip the bandaid off, so to speak. The joke is that the fastest way to find any errors/typos is to post the chapter. 😂 But really, it doesn't matter. Don't worry about it being perfect. It's fanfiction, not your dissertation.

I'm sure you've heard it before but... THIS IS MEANT TO BE FUN.

I cannot emphasize that enough.

So have fun. Sometimes it's hard work. Sometimes it's frustrating. But ultimately, if you're not enjoying it, what's the point?

#dawnrider fanfiction #20 year anniversary #AMA #ask me anything #writing advice

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neurodivergent-uni-support-group · 9 months

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When your brain refuses to function with the same strategy everyday

I've recently finished writing my dissertation after 3.5 months, so am still just about living in academic mode. Unfortunately one thing I haven't seen people who struggle with executive functioning talk about as much is the fact that I can find a strategy that completely clicks with me and works perfectly, but then won't even help me get five minutes of work done the next day. So, I'm gonna slowly build a masterlist!

This was originally supposed to be specifically about how to find the right music to function with but might as well broaden it out a bit. If anyone has any strategies/music/website recommendations that work particularly well for them, let me know and I'll be happy to add them!

Music

Lofi Girl Livestream - Starting with the obvious one, but it's well-known for a reason! The song styles remain consistent enough to not get distracted by changed while still being different enough to keep the brain working, people are constantly in the live chat so there's an element of bodydoubling, and it's a livestream so you don't have to worry about changing songs partway through work. Plus if lofi hip hop's not your thing, they have a synthwave version too.

There's a platypus controlling me but it's lofi (1hr edition) - Getting a bit weirder now, I will admit, but I stand by this one 100%! At least once in every assessment period I will have it set to loop and playing for a full day. If instrumental music leaves too much room in your brain to be distracted, this one usually does the trick. The first couple of rounds might seem more distracting than it's worth but half an hour in, you'll be golden!

Mario Kart Double Dash Full OST - This doesn't specifically have to be Mario Kart Double Dash, but it is a fun one! Basically just think of a game that makes you feel nostalgic or comforted or happy, see if there's a full OST for it and hopefully it'll help. Other soundtracks I'm a fan of using are Danganronpa 2 and Professor Layton, but it depends what kind of speed/genre you prefer.

Minecraft but it's raining - Kinda similar to the previous one but this time it's particularly peaceful OSTs with extra sounds on top! The one linked is the video I use the most but it's the same few songs repeated over and over for 10 hours so depends whether you work better with repetition or variation. There's also an Animal Crossing one here.

8D Lofi Girl (2hrs) - If normal lofi and added rain isn't cutting it, 8D might be the way to go! Since the music is constantly changing direction it adds a bit more interest to your brain. It's only 2 hours long but there do seem to be a fair few others on YouTube so shouldn't be too difficult to turn into a playlist or queue.

I'm Still Standing - Just the song. I just put it on loop and for some reason it sometimes works. Pick whichever song you want for this, though maybe keep it for final day crunches and be prepared to never be able to listen to the song again outside of work.

Websites and Apps

Forest - The main programme I've been using this time around! You set a timer and choose a tree, and every time you complete a time period of work without going on one of the apps/websites on your blocklist, another tree is added to your forest. It comes as both a Firefox Addon and an app, which can either be used synchronised or separately. Be warned, if you do want to synchronise them, you'll need to buy the premium version of the app, but it's a one-time payment of £3.89, so if it's something you can afford, it can be really useful.

Noisli - A mix of background noise and generally useful features, this one's a website and an app. It has lots of different background noises and you can mix and match them to make your ideal work setting. There's also a timer and space to type within the website if you don't want to move outside of it during work!

#actually neurodivergent #actually autistic #university #studyblr #university life

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odekirk · 1 year

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youtube

I’m sorry but I need to write a dissertation about this seven month old tiktok that just came to my attention. Even if you set aside the obvious superficial element to everything she’s saying (saying that she wants friends who are “aesthetically” like her, telling on herself by tossing out “ugly” like a slur in her second video), even if you took the most generous interpretation of her point at face value—that she just wants more confident friends who realize their worth—she’s still being weird for two reasons:

1). She’s not saying “I wish my friends were more confident because it makes me sad to see them settling for (what I perceive to be) mediocrity and I want better things for them.” She’s saying “I wish I had different friends who were more confident than the people I’m friends with now.” She’s not sad for the people she claims to care about, she’s annoyed by their insecurities and wants someone else who she can rag on them and their boyfriends with.

2). If I could plant an idea in her mind Inception-style with a spinning top it would be this: Why don’t you have more confident friends? Why is it that confident people don’t want to be around you? Is it because truly confident people see the way you treat other people, and see the way you treat your friends, and are secure enough to walk away from you because they can see through your put-downs disguised as straight-talking and they don’t need that energy in their life? Someone who “commands the room” everywhere they go should theoretically have tons of friends in their life, including ones who know their worth… so why don’t you? Why are you mostly surrounded by people with low self-esteem who don’t have the ability to walk away from bad relationships, or the ability to perceive the mediocrity of a person who portrays themselves as more?

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littleragondin · 5 months

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15 people, 15 questions

I've been tagged by @troubled-mind thank you (*¯ ³¯*)♡

1. are you named after anyone?

My second and third names are from two of my great grand parents, but I never use them. Otherwise, nope.

2. when was the last time you cried?

Three days ago I guess? I am a crybaby I'm afraid.

3. do you have kids?

No, and fine with it.

4. what sports do you play/have you played?

I am not very into sports generally speaking.I like swimming and roller skating, mostly!

5. do you use sarcasm?

Yes, I try not to do it to hurt people but yeah.

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

Hmm... not so sure? Clothes I think. The colors people wear and what style they dress in, most of the time.

7. what’s your eye color?

They fall under Hazel Brown - they go toward a dark green at the edge. But frankly, they do look mostly brown ^^

8. scary movies or happy endings?

I uh don't know why those two are opposite, but both. Horror is my love, and I am a sucker for happy ends.

9. any talents?

Well, I draw rather ok, I can sing in tune and I'm pretty good at remembering song lyrics. I can cook and bake pretty well, also.

10. where were you born?

In a place I never went back since I turned 2 months old lol but, France.

11. what are your hobbies

Drawing, writing, watching shows and movies. I also really enjoy traveling, singing as if my place was a karaoke bar, and learning languages.

12. do you have any pets?

No, I'd love to have a cat but my lease does not allow it.

13. how tall are you?

I'm 1m80/6' so rather tall I guess. I'm the smallest of my sibling group but the tallest in my lab ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

14. favorite subject in school?

oh i was very into school, generally speaking lol but I loved Biology and French (literature) the best! I was not always so good at dissertations but I loved the reading so much.

15. dream job

Technically what I am doing, but with SO MUCH LESS hours, and a slightly better pay? Otherwise at this point, something that's strictly 9 to 5 that pays enough for me to have my own place and time to do my things.

I am unsure who was tagged or not, but I'll tag @benkaaoi @silverquillsideas @petrichoraline @sparklyeyedhimbo if you feel like it (*´▽`*)

#thank you again for tagging me <3 #tag games

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keepthisholykiss · 2 years

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Want to Help a Lesbian Scholar?

Looking for scholars that could possibly help me please share this: Hi! I'm a master's student preparing to start my thesis next semester. I'm in need of 1 or 2 people that I can consult and possibly sit on my committee for my thesis on lesbian literature. My work is incredibly important to me and will help me down the line with my dissertation on queer writing. Put briefly it is on lesbian literature in the 19th to early 20th century and the expression of identity in writing. I'm looking for folks who study sexuality, literature of the era, or lesbian history to help. Ideally people who study lesbian writing at all. I believe you have to be in your Ph.D., a graduate of a master’s program, a professor, or a librarian. I can check depending on your own criteria. I recently moved (and had a million things implode in my life + research process) so I have had a hell of a time getting anyone to respond to an email. The commitment would be 12 months approximately and it would be to sit on my committee. I can provide more details to the right person! I'm lucky enough to do this research at all but I'm first-gen and new to academia as a whole so I'd appreciate any help at all. You can message me or comment on this and I can reach out. Tumblr helped me a ton with a piece of research I did in early 2022 so I’m hoping I can manage to find the right stuff again. I don’t want to have to delay my thesis so I would love to find someone!

#academia #lesbian #literature #lesbian literature #amy lowell #anne lister #michael field #emily dickinson

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awkwardgtace · 1 year

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I’d love to learn more about Kyrie’s past in either the mer AU or knight AU. What Kyrie’s birth family was like, how he was taken in by Pelago and Byssal, and how he bonded with his adoptive family over time 💙 I’m especially curious to know how Byssal and Pel could protect and care for a child (teen? I don’t remember the timeline) who’s so much bigger than them.

Well anon this made me so so happy to get and I had to write up some lore and stuff first. I am also sorry for the following dissertation of lore and background. There are stories that will elaborate on both these backstories. Also I don’t think I’ve ever made it clear when Kyrie winds up with Byssal and Pelago in any AU so you didn’t forget any timeline. He’s maybe 5 years old as a mer and about 10 when he meets specifically Byssal in Knight au.

Everything is under the read more. Also trigger warnings for child abandonment, death, and starvation (Just mentions)

Now the lore:

Mers age in a few specific periods. The earliest at 5 which is also when they get named by their parents.

At 5 a mer gets the colors in their scales (they’re bright white until then so they aren’t lost). These colors give the first idea of how big they’re gonna be

From 18-22 they hit their first massive growth period.

The next is usually from mid twenties to early thirties. This is also when scales, fins, and claws change to match the depth a mer is expected to live at (this is the growth period I’ve written about for both Kyrie and Byssal)

Now for Kyrie actually meeting Byssal and Pelago as a mer

The tldr (because now that I’m doing this I do want to write the story) Kyrie was five his parents saw his colors and grew terrified for themselves and Kyrie’s siblings (yup mer Kyrie has siblings). They knew a mer big enough to see Kyrie and treat him like food hunted in a specific area so brought their unnamed pup there and told him that the big mer here would care for him and not to search for them.

Byss did actually catch Kyrie in his mouth by accident, but only because a school of fish hid the maybe 2-3 foot long child mer. He wound up swimming back to Pelago because he was scared he’d hurt the kid trying to pull them past his teeth. Plus he didn’t smell anyone nearby so he assumed that the parents were hurt or killed.

After taking Kyrie home and managing to talk to him, Byssal and Pelago decided to take him in. They knew exactly what his scales meant and the danger it could mean for them, but they couldn’t abandon a child.

As for raising him, Kyrie actually stayed smaller than Byssal until that first growth period. He only reached about 30-40 feet long before then. The bonding was pretty quick. He had two mers that were big enough to hurt him that played with him and kept him safe. It went really fast when some mers who were hoping to mess with Pel found Kyrie swimming in the open. Pel used magic to scare them off and Byssal chased them away. He felt a lot safer. In this AU he’s a lot more comfortable with his size, until his first growth period. He dreads it after that since he didn’t want to be much bigger.

Now the knight AU is pretty different. Except there is still some lore that needs to be dropped.

Giants range from roughly 50ft to an absolute and rare maximum of 100 ft (most adult giants are around 80 ft tall)

They do eat differently than humans. On average they’d hunt about once a month. They only need to drink a few times a month to stay hydrated.

They live nomadic lifestyles to keep hunting areas full.

While there are many groups they keep the areas they hunt in well defined.

Werewolves don’t have magic. It’s unheard of and makes any that do a prime target for black markets

It’s common for wolves to use size changing spells they get from black markets or those they’ve threatened to sneak into human villages

For meals both wolves and giants have a history of eating others. (humans especially since they have the most visible and open living spaces)

That history was abandoned a long time ago (There are reasons but that’s spoiler)

Kyrie is an only child in this one and at first his parents (both considered tall at about 85ft) were happy when he was growing faster than the other children. When it didn’t stop they got scared along with other adults who decided to abandon him in an area that didn’t yield good hunts hoping he’d starve. (Giants don’t get taught how to hunt for themselves until about 16 in this world he was abandoned long before that)

He was on his own struggling and found Byssal as a big green wolf. After some events Byss realizes he was found by a kid and decides he can’t abandon a literal child even if the child is a giant. He uses the magic he has to give Kyrie something that will make him smaller. It’s harder to make Kyrie as small as a human for Byssal, but he’s small enough to look like a tall wolf pup.

Pelago comes in when Byssal decides to hunt down some black market dealers who were looking for him, but set out fae traps just in case. She stayed for a while and learned by accident about Kyrie due to spoiler things. She leaves with a promise to come back because she needs some things from near her home to improve the spell on Kyrie and Byssal (at the time Byss walked around as an abnormally tall human which was how a lot of black market hunters pin pointed him)

Both Byssal and Pelago used magic in the hunting ground Kyrie was abandoned in to improve the growth of fruits and vegetables native in the area. This spread to animals so they grow larger than they do in other areas from the food. There were spells used to increase the rate animals grow so more exist both in the lakes of the area and just around the forest. It’s been kept contained with spells to stop the bigger and faster aging creatures from spreading out of the hunting ground. (it took a lot of time, components, and money to do all of this)

For raising him, Kyrie was extremely insecure about his size so he would listen without complaint. He also became reluctant to do anything with humans. It’s why Byss got so angry that Melody knew. Kyrie isolated himself pretty badly for a few years. He started to gain confidence as both pulled him into more interactions in villages they traveled to. It was also how he was more willing to talk to them and open up to them. The only time he really ‘rebelled’ or caused any trouble was when he met a knight from the order. Things were risky, but he got out of it without revealing them. The knight was determined to pull him into the order after seeing a feat of strength from the human sized giant. Kyrie actually liked the idea, but they wound up fleeing the town when a different issue popped up. He did wind up joining obviously, and that knight is the one that vouched for him.

#awkwardanswers #oc:kyrie #oc:pelago #oc:byssal #awkwarddropslore #sorry for the long answer #i have had ideassssss #both i plan to write soon

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