#brevity may be the soul of wit
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inspiration weekend
thanks for the tag, @welcometololaland!
just a little glimpse at what's getting words on the page, as i wrap up the last of this chapter. home stretch, y'all!
i have got to stop writing these damn monster scenes.
Tagging @ambiguoustay, @hoko-onchi-writes, @mixtapestar, @rmd-writes, @carlos-in-glasses, @liminalmemories21, @eidetictelekinetic, and anyone else who hasn't posted inspiration and would like to!
#inspiration weekend#brevity may be the soul of wit#but it is not a skill i possess#the proverbial plate#to build a home#writing
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Since I have a tendency to overwrite a lot, especially on my first drafts, I've imposed a 5k upper limit on each chapter of my latest WIP.
The latest chapter I have drafted came in at 5800, give or take.
Okay, no prob. That's what editing is for, right? I got this!
5900 words on second draft.
Why am I like this.
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spirit 🌬️ for the elemental writer asks!!
isa, my love hi 💫!! thank you very kindly for the ask 💖
Spirit: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received on your writing?
Oh god, I treasure every piece of feedback I receive. I am dragon and kind words are my gold 💛🐉
That being said, I get a weird amount of joy from key smashes! I just find them incredibly endearing and it always makes me smile. I also really, really love it when people tell me particular lines or moments they enjoyed. It gives me something tangible to be proud of.
But the best compliment(s) I’ve ever received is a tie between two things.
1. The people who told me they thought I was good enough to publish. That’s MIND BLOWING to me and truly inspiring. I want to write professionally one day and have a lot of original work sitting on my computer. I just need to get up the nerve and those pieces of encouragement really help.
2. The most proud I’ve ever been of my writing was the times I’ve emotionally moved people through it. Mostly recently, I read a piece about the experience of watching a loved one slowly pass to a few friends and they openly cried. Not in a trauma porn sort of way, but in “this rings true to me” sort of way. So not only was the process of creating that story cathartic for me, but it was also healing for those who read it.
I don’t think I could ever ask for anything more than that :’)
Anywhoooooooo, as usual, I ended up rambling!! Thank you Isa for the ask again. You are an angel among us!! ✨💛💫
#brevity may be the soul of wit but no one ever said i was smart#isa!! 💖#mrs nubenueve#self love?#writing#writing question#writers of tumblr#cw grief mention#asks#evie’s jeevies
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Hi Neil,
I hope this doesn't get buried in the ask box, but if it does, I'll still be glad I sent this, just to know this little lengthy slice of complement and thanks existed in your inbox is enough. I apologize for the length, I am pretty sure the grammar is in tatters...and probably just the general awkwardness in advance.
Frist of all, congratulations for Good Omens Season2, it's a roaring success even here in this...I don't know, bottomless pit? I myself and some others fondly call it the PRC. The show didn't made pass the firewall officially, neither was Prime Video. People still managed to watch it eventually by VPNs, shared accounts and when times are desperate...sorry, piracy. Chinese fans, including myself, using every tool in the shed to try to fool Amazon™ and our goverment, just to watch this on Prime and try to help to manifest S3, is one hell of an experience. This kind of experience is pathetic, ridiculous....and somehow hilarious in a dark, gallows humor way, almost like some bad spy comedy, I just have to share it. Worth all the trouble by the way, the reward at the end of the back channel is...well, some divine comedy to say the very least. All in all, it's a brilliant show and a solid job well-done.
Then some of my personal gratitude. They say good art resonates with your soul, I now know this is just as true as matter and gravity. Since I know Good Omens certainly resonated with mine. I'll redact the typical "depression and anxiety reduced me to a husk, a shadow of my former self" story and get to the result for brevity's sake. I can't write anything meaningful while I know I took joy in writing, I can't finish reading anything longer than a brochure while I know I was such a bookworm in the past. Then I was compelled to get up in the middle of the night, wrote a full 5000 character long analysis after marathoned S2, and then write even more analyses in both Chinese and English. I picked up American Gods because I know I need more Neil Gaiman in my life and then impressed by myself for actually finishes it the second time 5 years later. I didn't know how exactly that happened through one watch of a TV show, but I know I am changed for the better. I grasped life again, and can start living again, somehow. The resonation just keeps on giving.
This is a quiet, gentle and romantic story, it is soothing, accepting, filled to the brim with love and kindness, and it makes me feel safe and accepted and loved in a way I never felt before. I thank you for it, and hope thart I may have the privlige to witness more of this miracle. Thank you Neil, Sir Terry Pratchett and the team for this miraculous book and this miraculous show.
谢谢。(I just had to say thanks with my mother tongue, it feels more earnest this way)
Thank you so much! I'm impressed by everything you and your countryfolk have gone through to watch it as legitimately as you could.
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Sometimes, brevity is not the soul of wit.
TTBW Ch 4 has now surpassed 10k words. And I still have four scenes left to write. It may be a bit longer my loves, but I PROMISE you are not gonna want to miss this chapter. So much hurt. So much comfort. But then like a lot more hurt...
As @pippsmcgee this chapter's alternate title could be "Azriel's extremely bad, no good, simply awful day."
But, you know, stay tuned.
#nessriel#azriel#nesta archeron#cassian#nezriel#TTBW#LD updates#LD writes#TTBW ch4#helpmehurtyou#i make no promises that the person getting hurt is the person getting comforted#but then again lots of people are getting hurt in lots of different ways this chapter#acotar#acosf#cazriel#nesta x azriel x cassian#nesta x azriel#nesta x cassian#whump#whump writing#hurt/comfort#poly!acotar#TW galore#specific TW to come with chapter
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i was lookin back in my docs and i found one of the earliest drafts of tgp chapter 1
Your first kidnapping scare is only two days after your official appointment as the crown’s knight.
The maid runs up to you pale as a sheet, blabbering something about “The crown—the crown isn’t in their room—the window is open!”
This is not how you thought your morning would begin. “What?”
She doesn’t dignify you with any elaboration before whirling around and hurrying down the hallway back to the crown’s room.
Oh, gods.
When you reach the room in question, the window is, as she said, wide open.
“Please,” she begs, rushing past you to open all the remaining windows. “I’m sorry to spring this on you, but I’m in a rush, myself—you have to find them before the Queen returns from breakfast. I’ve given you two hours at the most.”
Your gaze flits from her to the window, then back to her. Your brain is lagging quite severely behind. “You’ve—I’m sorry?”
“They do this all the time,” she explains, hastily stripping the bed of its sheets and gathering them up in her arms. “Disappears at any hour of the day, for as long as they want. But the Queen will be expecting them soon, and she can’t know they’ve been out of the castle without her permission.”
Oh. You’d immediately assumed that they’d been kidnapped. Good thing that’s apparently not the case?
“They leave behind a letter every time.” She tucks all the pillowcases in her basket, pointing her chin at the desk beside the window. A lone piece of paper sits atop it, and the corner flutters gently in the breeze. “When you find them, please tell them they’ve been in the bath.”
You can’t imagine how anyone could spend two hours in the bath, but regardless of your personal feelings, you suppose you have a job to do.
You make your way over to the desk and pick up the letter they’ve left behind. The paper is smooth and thick beneath your fingertips.
‘To whomever it may concern,
I’ll be back soon!
Yours,
Kallias'
They say that brevity is the soul of wit and all that, but as the person tasked with finding them within the next two hours, you can’t find it in yourself to laugh.
#this entire idea was scrapped but#it's kind of funny to me that even though the story has changed quite a bit since the beginning#kallias has not changed at all#they are equally annoying in every time ❤️
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20 Questions for Fic Writers!
tagged by @mimix007 — the kind and gentle spirit
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
19, which may be 14 too many because the AO3 dashboard only lets me see 5 at a time and I miss the others. I actually feel pain when a fic dissappears into “Works (#)” — it has even influenced how I add/edit new works.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
99,519 words
If brevity is the soul of wit, I’m preeeeetty sharp
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Bridgerton and 1 Fellow Travelers drabble
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
King of the Rakes: 723. My first multi-chapter was written unselfconsciously. Then I started thinking and things went downhill from there.
Tryst: 690. Fun ride with Queen Charlotte.
Allow Me This: 611. Me longest fic. Writing 4000 words/chapter was a different beast.
I’m not a man of poetry: 291. Warm feelings for this Carte-Blanche short.
Post-hunt: 289. Yeah! Lusty Anthony! First chapter just flowed. No plan, just type. Thoughts in real time: Cool, he’s into it — that’s hot. Uh oh here comes Benedict! What?! Hilarious.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes. Oddly, it’s harder finding my “voice” when responding to a comment than when writing a fic. Do I know myself? I don’t take praise well especially. Rereading my replies can be painful, like remembering a flubbed conversation. Despite my deficient responses I love my commenters and I hope they know that ❤️🤧
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
In my own fic I cannot abide angsty endings, torture, and stringing things out gratuitously. Life is short.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Hmm. I think King of the Rakes tops my list. Fluffy fluff and family feels, sunshine for the soul.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
If I do it is must be internal. I sometimes imagine readers (especially mutuals) walking away thinking *all the criticisms I can imagine*. I then imagine calling after them: “Please tell me what you’re thinking! Especially if it’s critical! Do you feel what I feel about this — can you tell it was written stilted, not pure? May the stream of creativity flow unhindered for you, my friend!” (I’m such a weirdo)
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
At first I inuendoed my way through “PG-13” fics whose central themes were constant sex. Then I asked myself who I was kidding. Then I let it rip but in the end always found the smut laced with plot and love, like enriched sugar.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
Nope. Never been this obsessed with a show before.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not to my knowledge.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Nope. Would be interesting to try alternating sentences, like the kid’s game.
14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?
kanthony of course
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I can’t relax with unfinished published WIPs so don’t have any. It’s a blessing and a curse. I do have drafts on my computer but that doesn’t bother me.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Taking the “me” out of the equation. I can’t always do it but when I do it’s like riding a wave of light.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Not taking the “me” out of writing. Once “my own ideas” creep in they muddy it up so I have to be careful.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
Sure. but I like my works to be accessible
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Bridgerton Bridgerton Bridgerton
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
King of the Rakes. Gotta agree with what the kudos say.
@andthebubbles what say you?
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20 questions for fic writers ✍️
tagged by the wonderful @yourlocal-charlatan!!! thank you friend!!!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
14 fics!!! I think there's only one that I posted only on tumblr, but I can't remember which one it was lol
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
50,639! brevity is the wit of the soul yadda yadda yadda (hi my name is virgo i'm 27 and i never fucking learned how to write)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
I currently only write for Sandman!
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Metaphors (761 kudos!!!)
The Night of the Storm (709 kudos!!!)
One of Their Own (542 kudos!!!)
May Dream (382 kudos!!!)
Freely Given (360 kudos!!!)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I try to, I wish I did it more! I get overwhelmed with comments sometimes and idk why it happens but it paralyses me. I do love reading them and I appreciate every single one.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
none so far, I always want to write a happy ending lol I do cater all my fics to myself so these queers are getting happy endings!!!
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
all of them have happy endings so far, but my victorian soldiers au was very angsty so i think the happy ending is more rewarding!
8. Do you get hate on fics?
nope, at least not yet! and if someone doesn't like one of my fics, peace and love but these are for me lol
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
nope! there's a liiiiittle smut on the victorian soldiers au but it's very broad strokes. I don't feel comfortable writing smut like, at all.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
haven't witten any yet, but there's some i'd like to read or even try to write.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
not that I know of!
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
once! it was translated to russian. it's insane that someone liked something i've written enough to translate the whole thing 😭
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
me and @littledreamling brainstormed our victorian aus together, so technically we collabed, in a way????
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
ALL TIME is difficult to say. I love dreamling and stucky but I can't think of anything else right now!
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
May Dream for sure!!! i have the whole fic outlined but have hit an awful creative block for the past... year? I have barely written any music this year (which sucks when you're a songwriter) but I'm trying to ease myself back into writing.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I think describing voice and rhythm are strenghts of mine!
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
getting scared and dropping the story. happens ALL the time to me.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I'd write it in portuguese I think, because it's my first language, but I don't know how to include that in a dreamling fic.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
I wrote my first fanfic for High School Musical when i was like 12 by hand on my school notebooks! I believe this is a universal experience for fanfic writers lol
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
May Dream for sure!!! I promise I want to finish it too!!!
tagging: @littledreamling, @softest-punk, @lenreli, @staroftheendless and whoever wants to do it!!!
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The Bard of Time, In Brief(s)
Let’s be fair: the Bard gets a bad rap, and I’ve already expanded upon the Destroyer Classes a bit here, but today I want to dive into a specific Bard to show you just how many interpretations you can spin off of one Classpect. Remember: Sburb loves wordplay and irony when assigning Classpects, and the strongest associations of each half of your Title (outside of the established abilities of your Class and Aspect) are generally ones that inspire a particular turn of phrase. A Maid of Time who has a lot of time on her hands is, quite literally, “made of time.” Of course, Aradia already beat me to the punch with this joke, but it’s a good example of what I mean.
This speaks to me on a personal level, because after diving into what it could actually mean to be a Bard of Time, I think this might be the funniest, most self-referential Classpect I’ve ever identified with—which means it’s perfect. Naturally, since brevity is the soul of wit, I will be brief: I am a musician of no small talent with an impeccable sense of rhythm, as well as an amateur poet. Beyond that, I gave myself the middle name Taliesin after the timeless bard—Shakespeare wasn’t the first to hold that title—because I have an ego the size of Jupiter and I love the romance and drama of setting myself up with a legacy to fulfill. So, let’s take a deep dive into the Bard of Time, from both my personal perspectives and a more general analysis. To hell with brevity—on with the show!
On a surface level, the Bard of Time is “one who inspires the destruction of death, certainty, and Time itself.” However, we can expand this list ad nauseum by interpreting many different functions and associations of Time—but I’m getting ahead of myself. The two Bards we’ve seen in the comic start out with an unshakeable faith in something that shapes their personalities and worldviews. Now, this could simply be a function of the Aspects of Hope and Rage, which are represented by enduring faith and eviscerating doubt, respectively. We really only have two Bards to analyze, and their Aspects are direct opposites. Still, it’s something to consider. Bards are a Passive Class, and their interactions with their Aspect usually come in the form of inspiring the Aspect itself, or its destruction, in others. I truly believe that the word “inspire” is as crucial to understanding the Bard as “destroy,” and this also has many, many possible interpretations.
The Bard can be considered a Buff/Debuff Class, though this is a bit misleading. As we’ve seen with Gamzee in particular, the Bard can become deeply affected by the whims of their Aspect. Destroyer Classes seem to be spawned into sessions with far too much of their Aspect; unlike Rogues, their purpose is not to diffuse their Aspect to areas of low concentration, but rather to destroy it outright and make room for its opposite to reign. We see this very clearly with the Princes: Dirk was part of a session rife with romantic drama and one identity crisis after another, which would have prevented anything from getting done until he intervened. Eridan’s destruction of the Matriorb, the symbol of the session’s Hope, broke the trolls out of stagnant passivity and ultimately led to the joint creation of the new universe. Bards tend to have a more subtle effect on their sessions. Their influence ripples out in unpredictable ways that can be the catalyst for, in ironic Homestuck fashion, both the failure and success of a session.
The Bard of Time will be part of a session with far too much Time. This could indicate a lack of urgency in other players that leads to a cascade of unproductive and damaging choices, since there’s “plenty of time,” or it could mean that the Bard’s allies are far too wrapped up in the implications of fate and certainty, leaving them paralyzed by inaction or even determined to spend the session fucking around based on the assumption that they’re already Doomed. They may assume, incorrectly, that their Will has no bearing on the session, much like Aradia before her maturation arc. It’s helpful to note here that the Maid is the Active inverse of the Bard. The Maid begins as a subservient to their Aspect, and then grows to heal their relationship to it, culminating with the ability to create it for themselves. The Bard starts out heavily influenced by their Aspect’s opposite, and later inspires the destruction of the most negative relationships of their Aspect in others, and in their session at large.
In addition to correcting these broken relationships with Time, the Bard would also be well-equipped to invite the destruction of damaging patterns, which can range from unhealthy habits and addictions to karmic cycles spanning time and space. Perhaps they choose to get sober, and that choice ripples out and inspires others to do the same. (This has happened in my own life, and I’ve had at least half a dozen people reach out to tell me that speaking publicly about my sobriety encouraged them to break their addictions, too.) They may also invite the destruction of the “Doomed” label given to both individuals and broader Timelines, which could be extremely beneficial to others—but could also, in theory, lead to a Timeline cursed by everlasting stasis, like a terrifying form of limbo. Given enough power, they may even be able to invite the destruction of Death itself. I’ll leave this power’s implications, both awe-inspiring and horrifying, to you, dear reader.
“That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die.”
#classpect#classpect analysis#homestuck#bard of time#bard class#time aspect#wow this took about…3 hours or so#i should probably eat something
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Brevity may be the soul of wit but I am a longwinded motherfucker sometimes, so that’s why I take my ass to the bookmarks.
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HAPPY OOKY SPOOKY KELL LOVES TIANA SATURDAY!!!! 👻🎃💀🦇🕷️🌕🍂🖤 EEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE
i'm gonna let brevity be the soul of wit here. may your upcoming halloweek be FRIGHTFULLY DELIGHTFUL! WOOOOOO
me: 🥹🥹🥹 awwwww look it’s— HEARTBREAK KERMIT??????
i’m obsessed and i love all of this and your kind words and i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you 🥹💕💞🩷💓💘💖💝💗 you’re the greatest friend in the world and i am so grateful to have you in my life MWAH MWAH MWAH
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Let me lend you a hand - Ithan x Reader (One Shot)
Brevity is the soul of the wit, but I can’t write anything short to save my life.
Word count: around 3300
Thread: Ithan and you are dating, but agreed on moving slow in terms of sex. Teasing him mercilessly at a party, Ithan can’t help but take care of himself in the bathroom - until you burst in.
Warnings: smutty (masturbation, handjobs, oral sex m receiving), mention of alcohol and drugs, slight dirty talk
The insistent drum of the bass pulsated through your whole body as you walked the packed hallways of Ruhn’s frat house. That is essentially what it was – a party house with as much alcohol as drugs, loud music played in every room and couples getting it on in most of the cozy nooks and empty rooms the house provided. Your mouth twisted into a smirk as you rounded a corner and almost ran into Flynn and a voluptuous, beautiful girl grinding against each other. By the sounds of her, she was enjoying herself very much, but that didn’t mean that you particularly enjoyed seeing Ithan’s house mate in full seduction mode.
Your steps quickened, hastily making your way to the living room where usually all the dancing – and therefore all the fun – happened. You pass the bar on your way, getting one of the premixed drinks before joining a cacophony of different people – fae, shifters, merpeople – on the dancefloor.
You didn’t go unnoticed. With your fitted, wine-colored dress that showed off your legs and left little to the imagination as to how you’re built, more than one pair of eyes followed your body as it moved to the melody. You felt utterly sexy tonight, and that colourful and sweet drink in your hand filled you with additional confidence.
But it was only one particular male whose attention and hands you wanted on you tonight and for the rest of your immortal life.
As if the thought of him summoned his presence, your head turned to his direction.
The crowd parted for Ithan Holstrom like he was a king among peasants. He looked like one too with his plain white but fitted shirt, dark pants and the pack tattoo on his neck. The sexiest thing about him though was the way he held himself. Just a little cocky, but so confident and sure of himself and his character that you couldn’t help but swoon.
When his eyes spotted you among your peers, he immediately pushed his way through the crowd to keep you company. While some males and females did drift towards you while you danced, they quickly tried to put distance between themselves and you now. Nobody was stupid enough to hit on you with your boyfriend in clear sight.
Ithan had finally reached you, pulling you into his body and effortlessly joining in on your movements. Your bodies fitted together perfectly. Ithan’s hands found their favourite spot on your hips, squeezing your flesh and guiding the sway of your hips to match his. His eyes never left your face as he now leaned his head towards you. “May I have this dance with you, mylady?”
Your head fell back in a burst of laughter. The irony of this oh-so-kind invitation and his body pressing so provocatively against you wasn’t lost on both of you. You stopped the dancing motion for a second to stand on your tiptoes and answer Ithan, “Of course, since you seem so much more polite that the other males in the room.”
Your boyfriend grinned at you, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he pulled you closer, flush to his chest. His breath tickled your ear. “I can be even more polite if you let me.”
Heat pooled immediately in your core at the sheer mention of intimacy. Ithan and you had been exclusive for about three months, having know each other through your friends before he gathered the courage to ask you out on a date. You had asked him to move slow in terms of sex and Ithan agreed with you, ever the gentleman. You loved the anticipation of it, the thrill whenever his hands grazed your sides or he kissed you a little deeper and longer than usual. Never knowing if tonight would be the night to take the next step.
The pull towards one another got worse and worse though, especially when he looked and said things like this.
You turned your body away from your boy, taking a step back to join your back with his chest again, and your rear with his crotch. Ithan’s hands snaked around your waist, holding your firmly. Even through this slight little touch you could guess his strength. Your bodies found their rhythm again.
Ithan’s breath started to quicken behind you. You grinned slightly to yourself, proud that you can rile this handsome male up by just dancing in front of him. Well, it also helped that your rear brushed against his rock-hard cock with every sway of your hips. Your intention had been to relief him a bit of his agony, but apparently you made it worse. Ithan lowered his head again to attach his lips to your bared neck, kissing it before biting gently into the soft skin with his canines. He grumbled into your ear. “Stop being such a tease.”
You angled your head slightly to give him more access to your neck, mumbling something along the lines of, “You started it.”. You found it harder and harder to form coherent thoughts, the drink and Ithan’s body so close to you muting your thoughts and pumping your blood through your veins at a punishing pace.
Ithan looked equally riled up, his eyes blazing through yours, and desire, plus something that almost looked like pain, written on every feature of his otherwise relaxed face. You wondered briefly if he had some sort of problem or sorrow he didn’t share with you, but decided against asking him in the middle of a crowded dancefloor. Especially when nearly everyone in this damn house had advanced hearing.
When the song ended to shift into hard rock – undoubtedly curtesy of Ruhn – both of you abandoned the dance floor to catch your breaths, walking towards the door hand in hand.
Outside of the house you found yourselves among other partiers, some smoking, some crying, some vomiting into the neatly trimmed garden. You snorted as you took in your peers, amused by their antics. Among them, a mass of shining, red hair, stood your friend Bryce.
“Y/N!!”, she screamed, waving her hand excitedly, “Ithan! Come over.”
You complied, pulling Bryce into a fierce hug when you reached her. Ithan hugged her briefly as well and after the initial pleasantries were exchanged, he turned towards you to plant a peck on your temple. “I’ll quickly go inside, yeah? I think Dec called me on the way out. Text me when you can’t find me again.”
Without as much as a glance in Bryce’s direction, he disappeared quickly back into the house. Your brows furrowed as you looked after him. You were absolutely sure Declan didn’t call him, your fae hearing would have undoubtedly picked it up, even over the loud music. There definitely was something wrong with Ithan tonight, and the thought didn’t leave your mind while you continued talking to Bryce. She just informed you of her latest night with the umbra mortis, never failing to be awfully explicit. You were happy for her though, and for Hunt as well as both of their lives were short of peace and calm, but a bit of jealously still settled in your stomach. Hearing about the bedroom adventures of other couples made you crave Ithan’s touch even more than you did the whole night. You barely continued listening to your friend as your mind drifted – to Ithan’s chinsed, hard muscles, his demanding lips leaving your breathless after their kiss, his form hovering over your smaller one, the undoubtedly hard other thing you felt previously and what he could do with it…
A loud laughter beside you drew you out of your daydream. You scolded yourself mentally for even thinking these things. Ithan clearly had some kind of trouble and his girlfriend had nothing better to do than drooling after him instead of offering her support. That settled your inner debate – you would find your boy and he’ll hopefully share his sorrows with you. After quickly saying your goodbyes to Bryce, you stumbled back into the house.
The stench that hit you was almost overwhelming. After you’ve been outside among the fresh air, the house smelled particularly awful – sweat mixed with arousal mixed with smoke. The air was thick, but you made your way through the crowd once more to find a trace of either Declan or Ithan, hopefully dragging him home to enjoy the rest of your night a little more calmly than this.
Declan was the first figure you spotted. Sitting on the sofa, a joint in his hand, your plopped next to him. “Hey Dec. I was looking for Ithan, did he tell you where he’s gone?”
Declan looked at you with confusion, the mirthroot clouding his gaze even further. “Ithan? I haven’t seen him in a few hours.”
Now it was your turn to look confused. Did he say that Declan called him, or was it Flynn?
“Oh, okay. I just thought he might have talked to you.”
Declan, ever the gentleman, offered a slightly slurred, “Should I help you look for him?”, which you politely declined. He probably wouldn’t find his own hand in this state.
Anxiety creeped into your mind now. Why would he excuse himself this hastily and then lie about were he was going? Your mind worked overtime, trying to figure out the place he most likely went to. Your gut twisted a bit at the thought that there might be another girl or boy that got his attention, but you suffocated it immediately. It was Ithan you were talking about. The male was loyal to a fault and would never hurt you that way.
With new intention in your step, you decided to check his room first. Opening one of the bedroom doors was always a risk during a party like this, but you were willing to face people in various stages of undressing to find him.
Having reached his room at the far end of the corridor, you knocked forcefully. Might as well give anyone a heads up before you entered, if they were in the right mind to listen and care. Finding the door unlocked, you pushed in slowly.
And faced a completely empty room.
Disappointed, you were about to change directions to check the second most likely place in the house – the billiards table – when you heard a muffled sound coming from his adjoined bathroom. There was a faint light streaming through the crack of the door onto the wooden floor of his bedroom which you hadn’t noticed before. And behind that door, someone was clearly in the middle of fucking, moaning and panting with abandon. Your heart sank.
It could be anyone, you told yourself. Anyone in this house could have used his bathroom for some more privacy.
You gathered your courage, calling “Ithan?”, hoping desperately that he wouldn’t answer. But your prayers weren’t heard.
The noises on the other side of the door halted abruptly. “Y/N?”
Oh gods, it definitely was Ithan behind the door. Fury forced its way through the sheer panic in your body. You couldn’t believe this. You had to see it with your own eyes.
Storming towards the door and yanking it open, you were surprised to find a semi-naked Ithan leaning with one hand against the sink – and nobody else in sight. His other hand was firmly closed around his cock, chest heaving with the in-draw of every fast breath.
He just stared back at you, body tense. Confusion was written all over your face, but only for a second. Then you understood, fighting back a laugh. The trouble Ithan was having apparently had something to do with your constant teasing and lack of sex. Ithan sensed your change of mood, lifting his eyebrows, a slightly bashful smile playing his lips. “Yes?”
He wasn’t too embarrassed about the situation, apparently.
Which in turn, took all the embarrassment from you, if you ever had it. Leaning against the doorframe, you eyed him up and down. This was clearly an opportunity you waited for, being thirsty for him the whole evening. And the past few weeks, if you were being honest.
With calm, sure movements, you let the door behind you close, facing Ithan. The music from downstairs still filtered through the walls, but your focus was solely on him.
“I was wondering if you need a little help?”, you asked finally, voice low.
Ithan forced out a breath. “Seems like I do.” He paused, remembering your agreement. “But only if you want to baby.”
Your answering smile told him enough as you crossed the remaining distance towards his form and positioned yourself in front of him. His hand still clasped the sink, knuckles white with held back desire, effectively closing your body in.
Slowly, while still keeping eye contact, you grabbed the wrist of his hand that gripped his cock, pulling it off him and placing it on the sink as well. His breathing grew even more ragged, and you haven’t even touched him yet. Oh, you were going to enjoy this way too much.
“Relax. Just let me take care of you.”, murmuring your reassurance, Ithan’s body let go of the built-up tension just a little. You moved your hand in front of your face, making a show in licking broad stripes up and down your palm and fingers, until you were satisfied with the moisture on in. Your boyfriend took the scene in, still unmoving and waiting patiently for your touch.
Then, your hand closed around his cock and began pumping him slowly.
Ithans head fell back with a groan. This was so much better than taking care of himself while daydreaming about you.
You pumped your hand up and down, slightly picking up the pace and gently twisting your wrist whenever you neared the tip on every stroke. Ithan felt so heavy in your hand, aching and desperate for release. You wondered how often during the last weeks he had excused himself from social situations to stroke himself, thinking about you.
Ithan’s hands wandered towards your waist again, squeezing slightly before leaning in and kissing you with abandon. He captured your lips in a sloppy kiss, parting them with his tongue to exploring your mouth while you explored other areas of him.
“Fuck”, he ground out against your mouth, panting heavily before connecting your lips again. He seemed so close to release, so you picked up the pace another notch, gliding over his length. The precum that leaked out of him eased your movements even more.
“How did you know this was exactly what I dreamt of?”, he whispered in your ear, slurring the words just a bit through his haze of desire. You doubled your efforts on him, other hand finding his heavy balls to cup and massage them. You never needed someone to cum more, and this wasn’t even your own climax you were talking about. Something about Ithan in this state was so incredibly intoxicating, how vulnerable his features went, how hard he tried to not just pounce on you, how he practically melted under your movements.
“Oh? What else did you dream of, Ithan?”, you teased him a little. Maybe sharing his fantasies helped in coaxing the climax out of him, and it also gave you more ideas on how to surprise him in the future.
Ithan huffed out a low laugh, now leaning his head fully on your shoulder. “I dreamt about your little hands, stroking me like they do now. Your soft, pink lips and how they would kiss me while doing it, how they would look wrapped around my cock. How your body would look like under me.” He took a big breath, the talking and pleasure making it difficult to get enough air, even for someone as athletic as him. “I’ve had about every fantasy under the moon when it comes to you.” He admitted finally. And that was your last straw too.
Absolutely overcome with desire yourself, you took away both of your hands from Ithan’s cock. He lifted his head from your shoulders, looking at you with the cutest puppy-eyes you’ve ever seen in such a situation you almost laughed. But you were a woman on a mission.
“Then let’s not keep these fantasies all hidden in your head, yeah?”
You held eye contact with your absolutely hypnotized boyfriend while you slowly sank to your knees. If he didn’t guess your intention from your words, there was no doubt about your plans now. Ithan let out another groan before you ever touched your lips to him. Alone the sight of you kneeling before him, the view of your beautiful face and your cleavage showing underneath almost had him finishing on the spot. But he wanted to feel you, desperately, so he held back a little longer.
Your tongue licked a broad stipe from the base of his cock towards his tip, collecting all the moisture from your previous ministrations. You let it swirl around his tip, once, twice, three times, before dipping slightly in the slit that now leaked with the biggest amount of precum you’ve ever seen.
Ithan’s hand found the side of your face, and you mentally prepared for him to just fuck into you himself, but instead he brushed back some of your hair and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb. The gentleness was so at odds with the whole situation, but it spurred you on more.
Opening your mouth, you began to suck in the tip of his cock. This barely-there pressure on him caused Ithan to mutter out a string of curse words, and you internally congratulated yourself on your ideas. You began bobbing your head up and down, taking more inches down your throat and increasing the pressure by sucking in your cheeks. When his cock brushed the back of your throat, Ithan hissed above you. “I’m close baby.”
You placed your hand around the missing few inches close to his base and then began to work both your hand and mouth in tandem. You also grabbed onto Ithan’s thighs, trying to steady your body and gain leverage to move with more force.
Ithan crumbled. His face fell slack. “Y/N!”
With your name on his lips, he came undone in your mouth. Spurting ropes and ropes of cum into your throat. You swallowed around him, gently massaging his cock to elongate his pleasure.
When he stilled over you completely, you released him from your mouth with a pop and, a bit stiff in the knees, stood up before him. While Ithan was still in heaven, at least judging by the look on his face, you quickly dressed him again, closing his pants and buckling his belt.
Ithan’s arms wrapped around you tightly. You rested your head right above his heart that still hammered mercilessly in his chest. Ithan’s hands caressed your back, stroking up and down in a silent thanks. “You have no idea how amazing that felt, y/n.”
His voice sounded rough, all raspy and unbelievably hot. You wondered if he would sound just like this after you would share a bed, or even better.
You raised yourself on your tiptoes, a smug tone in your voice. “You’re welcome.”
You kissed Ithan on the lips, letting him taste at least a hint of his own release. You both groaned at the touch, letting yourself get carried away in the kiss.
He pulled away after what felt like hours, dragging his thumb over your swollen and glistening lips. “According to the law, I need to pay back your efforts, you know.”
It was your turn to swallow now. Just the thought of Ithan’s lips on your pussy made you shiver uncontrollably. He smiled at you like he knows exactly what kind of effect he had on you. He could probably smell it too, now that his own arousal slowly cleared the air and made way for your scent.
“Then I wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties.”, you finally answered. Ithan picked you up by your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder so that your upper body effectively dangled along his back. You squealed, slapping his butt playfully as he started moving out of the bathroom and towards his bed. You weren’t sure if you could take both sexy Ithan and cheeky Ithan at the same time, but you were more than willing to try.
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SENTENCE MEME ⟶ PRYCE AND CARTER'S DEEP SPACE SURVIVAL PROCEDURE & PROTOCOL MANUAL / PAGE 681 - 770
tenses and wording may have been altered slightly for ease of sending! always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.
'the maximum number of times you are permitted to yell, "GET ME OUT OF HERE" over the full duration of your mission is fourteen times.'
'don't threaten anyone with black magic unless you can actually back it up.'
'the best diplomacy is much like the best beef jerky -- salty but durable.'
'brevity is the soul of wit, and you have productivity updates to submit.'
'duct tape can be used to keep your shoelaces tied. if they become untied more than twice in a day, use of it is compulsory.'
'you are just being targeted by heroically determined scam artists.'
'sometimes - much as i hate to admit it - you can't improve on mother nature.'
'in an emergency, take stock of the tools at your disposal. then take stock again. restock, repurpose, reuse, recycle.'
'only you can prevent space fires.'
'watching a horror movie burns more calories than any other film genre.'
'"social media" was developed to manipulate the masses with an unhealthy addiction.'
'rigidity will inevitably result in your untimely death.'
'people remember favors, insults, compliments, politeness, and grand larceny. in that order.'
'i don't care what it told you, i repeat: radiation is not your friend.'
'some things are too serious to ever be joked about.'
'most conflict arises our of confusion.'
'if you can't be in the place you love, be in space.'
'begging gets you further than you think.'
'remember: you can't help if you can't breathe.'
'juggling in space is not a problem, it's just a challenge.'
'encouragement only in moderation, please. you don't want to get carried away.'
'the arm is always gangrener on the other side. amputate before it's too late.'
'urine is a very practical source of potassium.'
'you do not need to be stronger than ten men as long as you are stronger than each of them.'
'the generic space suit helmets are just as good as the brand-name ones.'
'you're going to be hungry and just have to work through it.'
'waiting for someone to change is a waste of time.'
'forcing someone to change is vastly more effective.'
'dehydrated corn meal is just regular corn meal.'
'the key to understanding ancient hieroglyphics is to embrace the concept of fluidity of meaning.'
'you probably do not speak to your parents as much as you should.'
'THE REVOLUTION IS NOT NOW.'
'biospheres never work as well as you want them to.'
'names have power over things.'
'names are a transient, ephemeral concept. blood, flesh, and bone offer immediate, palpable results.'
'microorganisms share your space, your water, your air, and even your body. you are never truly alone.'
'biologically and chemically speaking, there technically isn't anything on a cellular level that says the human body /has/ to die.'
'don't fraternize with the enemy.'
'don't fraternize with the frenemy.'
'always include first aid supplies in your survival kit.'
'you /do/ have a survival kit, right? one you carry with you everywhere, /right/?'
'don't say, "ding dong, the witch is dead," unless you're absolutely sure you've killed that witch.'
'sometimes, ketchup can make all the difference in the world.'
'sticks and stones can break your bones, as well as wrenches, winches, bookshelves, computer towers, large-caliber weapons, engine components, automated doors, large falls, power drills, saws, cleavers, nunchucks, icicles, tripping, laser cutters, mines, grenades, golf clubs, and late-stage osteoporosis.'
'the definition of torture does not currently include poetry slams. but don't push it.'
'while plungers will not solve /every/ problem, you may be surprised by /how many/ problems they can solve. keep no fewer than four on hand at all times.'
#sentence meme#rp meme#sentence starters#roleplay meme#starter sentences#wolf 359#rp starters#rp memes
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I developed a crush on her because of her eloquence. Because of how she views the small intricate details as something of importance because it makes the whole picture. How subtlety actually speaks loudly. How the choice of words changes a statement. How brevity may be the soul of wit, but it isn't of a poet.
I think I could fall in love with her ideas, her soul, and her core. I think I could fall in love with her just for the pleasure of hearing the world through her voice.
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To all of my many, many adoring fans: Your long wait is over for I have returned.
To everyone else: Why are you on my social media right now?
But back to the people who matter. I know, I know, I owe you all an apology for disappearing from the public eye the way I did, but in my defence, it was only so that I could bring the massive talent, joy, and all other things me back to Broadway with my triumphant return to the stage.
And speaking of which; I’m sure you all know by now that there are only a few weeks left to see me redefine the role of Marian Paroo in The Music Man, after which I will be taking a (very) brief hiatus to spend some time with my incredible wife and even more incredible daughter (sorry, Quinn, I love you, but I made Moriah so she gets top billing). But fear not, my temporary departure from the stage will not come with a renewed departure from all of you here in Social Media land. Your dashes, feeds, and all the rest will remain filled with my wit, wisdom, and insatiable love of all things Musical.
And while we’re on the subject of Musicals: I would like to take a moment to formally and publicly congratulate my very dear friend and former sister in law, Chelsea, on her pitch perfect casting in the upcoming Wicked movie. I know we’ve discussed it off-line, as it were, but it deserves a full, vocal, and very public celebration. The only thing that could make me happier is if I were your co-star.
That’s a joke. Sort of.
But in all seriousness; I couldn’t be happier or prouder of you, and I know you’re going to be absolutely amazing. Congratulations (and I better be your plus one at the premier).
I know there are a mountain of other things I need to catch up with you all about, but if I tried to do it all in one post, I’d break whatever character limit there is.
Why is there a character limit in the first place? It makes no sense. What difference is there between 5 10,000 word post or one 50,000 word posts? This is why I will never understand computers.
Then again, they do say that brevity is the soul of wit, and to always leave your audience wanting more, so I suppose there may be some merit to a character limit after all. And in any case, if any of you want to know about something specific, you can always ask. I do love talking with my Fans.
Your shining star, Rachel Barbra Fabray-Berry
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brevity may be the soul of wit but i sold my soul to the writing gods a long time ago
for context the next part of the shapeshifter jimmy au is sitting at a lovely 3.1k. i’m not nearly done.
hope y’all like hurt/comfort
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