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#there are also other variations i have in my mind. i just want to know

redrum-alice · 12 hours

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ABA x Paracelsus HCs that live in my mind rent-free, even though I haven't played the game--

Some of these HCs include other characters involved in their arcade mode.

ABA is no stranger to stalking people. So when she came across a lookout point, she saw many couples, mostly teenagers, making out and going on romantic dates. She wonders what it would feel like to be young and in love, rather than just declaring someone whom she met first glance as a "husband"

ABA's collection of keys were hidden somewhere in the pocket dimension. She sometimes uses them as accessories to adorn herself, despite the like of knowledge in fashion (the girl wears pants as a top--)

There are many shades of blue that ABA can pick from. Since Paracelsus turned himself blue, the shiny surface reflected more colors than just blue, inspiring her to try and appreciate other colors near the blue gradient.

Added to the color stuff, she eventually tries variation of outfits with other colors, but with blue as the base.

Paracelsus knows when she's feeling fatigued. When she's at her limit, he opens the pocket dimension and lets her rest there until she wakes up. ABA sees this as his love language, but unintentional on his part

Both ABA and Paracelsus have no clue on how homonculi biology works, and Paracelsus hates to admit he feels bad that ABA may be at risk of getting herself hurt without him knowing what to do

Paracelsus wishes he knows more about human anatomy because its the closest one to ABA's physiology.

Since ABA is clairvoyant, she often hears the spirits of their victims which she tries to ignore, and probably because she doesnt know the correct response to a wailing dead person wanting justice. When its too much, she asks Paracelsus if what theyre doing was justified and that she begins to regret her rage filled jealousy directed at those that dont even bother them.

Paracelsus keeps telling ABA that she needn't to worry because it was a necessity for the both of them-- something he deeply regrets to say because he knows she has strong principles that she live by despite not being a human

Paracelsus, deep down, is ashamed of himself for tainting ABA for the purpose of tending to his bloodlust. He saw how genuine and pure hearted she is, but it turned into malice because of his demonic origin. He begins to wonder what ABA would be like if she found someone else years ago.

Just like ABA, Paracelsus has an unspoken fear of abandonment, but since he lacks capacity to feel other emotions, he doesnt notice this.

Ever since Elphelt and Testament approached her with good intentions, ABA wanted to make more friends like them, but is scared that others have ill intentions toward her and Paracelsus.

ABA's favorite book would be Alice in Wonderland when she was still in Frasco, specifically the part where Alice was trapped in a room or multiple doors with the smallest door being the exit. ABA admires this because of the concept of escaping, especially that there's a key involved. (Im biased bc my name's Alice and i like this story--)

Besides door keys, she also collects windup key and smaller keys for chests and compartments. She sees this as a symbol for discovering new things, especially music when she came across a music box that needed a key

Speaking of music boxes, she associates this object with Elphelt bc of her musical talent (and that she may as well look like the ballerina spinning on the music box)

Other than doors, music boxes, and compartments, she also came across a small doll that needed a key. After she winds it up, it began walking and talking towards her and freaks her out. But when it said "mama" in a robotic voice, ABA contemplates and wonders if she was ready to become a parent somewhere in the near future when Paracelsus has a body. An impossible thought, but one could never be sure, and it scares her.

Butterfly Pea tea with brown sugar, or sparkling butterfly pea lemonade with honey would probably her favorite drink because of its color. She shares this with her hubby 🥰😋

There comes a time that her bandanges would get uncomfortable and smell bad from blood stains and wounds, so Paracelsus tells her she needs to change them before she gets an infection. He does stop her midway because he realizes she isnt wearing any undergarments and proceeds to take her in the pocket dimension.

Elphelt offers ABA to shop with her to pick clothes suited for her. The first thing she sees at the boutique display was a wedding dress and begins to day dream a wedding with Paracelsus. Without her looking, Elphelt happily buys the wedding dress with matching tuxedo and gives it to ABA, despite Paracelsus' protests (the fact that he hears them chatting about setting up the wedding next day had him ded on the spot :P)

ABA watches home video tapes left in houses unoccupied by their owners (abandoned or they went on vacation; ABA is a home intruder lol). She finds a tape labeled "Happy Day" and it plays a recording of a newly wed couple dancing at their reception. The way the couple moved gracefully tickled an idea in her brain and insisted she and Paracelsus should dance. But since the large key doesnt have any legs, her attempts in waltzing with him went nowhere 😅 (and this gave more reason for ABA to find a body for Paracelsus)

At late nights when ABA is asleep, Paracelsus wonders that if he had a body, would ABA still be shorter or they would be in the same height? Either way, he was impressed that she can keep herself up with that low weight despite her tall stature, more so on how she was able to carry him around without much muscle mass.

When he sleeps beside her, her hair unwittingly falls on his bow and feels how soft it is. A very pleasant feeling he won't admit.

Everyday, Paracelsus keeps reminding ABA that she needed to eat to gather strength. ABA often forgets to eat because its not hard wired in hr system, nor that it was even natural for her to eat in the first place.

#aba and paracelsus headcanons #aba & paracelsus #aba x paracelsus #aba guilty gear #a.b.a x paracelsus #paracelsus guilty gear #paracelsus #guilty gear strive #a.b.a guilty gear #guilty gear

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sluttsumu · 4 months

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˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ CASE OF THE EX

ೃ࿐ feat. gojo satoru

in which: you run into your ex husband just when he realizes he needs you back.

contains: nsfw, smut, exhusband!gojo, dubcon, infidelity, intoxicated sex (alcohol), breeding, gojo calls reader wifey, exhibitionism if you squint. wc: 1.3k

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this was supposedly to be a drabble and ended up being way longer than expected. i’m also trying out a diff writing style lmk whatcha think!

it’s freezing, as it normally is in december, but this was a different type of cold.

the standing on your ex husband’s porch, four glasses of wine deep, kind of cold. you’ve been standing outside for borderline five minutes, but you know he’s home.

“satoru..” the door creaks open to a very tipsy gojo standing on the other side. he’s quick to pull you in without another word because, “it’s freezing, why are you here this late?”

locking the door behind you he winces, rubbing his eyes trying to remember what day of the week it is. “is it my weekend to have her?”

her being your daughter, satoru’s beloved angel — the only other girl he’s ever loved besides you.

loved. past tense.

he swears he’s still inlove with you but you never believed it. you hated gojo satoru, but that’s just what you wanted yourself to think. he’s been trying to break down this wall of resentment for months, after all it’s been almost a year since you two split.

“she’s at your mothers house, i dropped her off last night.”

gojo could breathe easy knowing his daughter isn’t here, he didn’t want her to him like this; drunk, that is.

you watched as he disappears into the kitchen, taking your coat and shoes off, leaving them in familiar places.

you don’t why you’re here, back in this house, with him. it’s almost as if you were on autopilot directing yourself to a common place with no intention just…there.

he comes back with a bottle in one hand and two crystal glasses in the other, staring blankly before asking again, “why are you here?”

the silence was loud enough, it was actually the most you two have spoken in the past year.

—

“do you miss me?” smirking with the tilt of his head he rests his head in his palm, eyes flickering between you and the full shot in front of you. the two of you playing a variation of truth or drink.

“satoru…don’t do this to me.” you face palm.

“i know you do, but if your ego is too big to admit it then take it.” slender fingers slide the glass your way, you could see your reflection in the liquid, and god, you look guilty.

speaking of looks, if they could kill you’d be a dead woman. the way he looks back at you across the table reminds you of all of the reasons you crave gojo satoru.

you took the shot, quickly too. it burned going down almost lighting your body on fire in a self-sabotaging way. he found pleasure in watching you not admitting the blatant fact.

“you deny it but it’s true,” standing, he downs the contents of his glass mid-sentence, making you both somewhat even in intoxication.

the ‘clink’ of him setting his glass down next to yours echos as he’s now moved from sitting across to standing in front of you.

“ ‘m sure there a lot you miss about me, hmm?” his hands slide between your hair and skin, four out of five digits resting on the nape of your neck, his thumbs brushing against your cheek.

from gojo’s pov he couldn’t have you in a better place, literally in the palm of his hand. as crazy as it sounds he had to do this, he loves you, and love makes you do some…not nice things.

to be fair, manipulation and persuasion are not the same to him. he never told you to come over, but then again he could’ve called you an uber and sent you back home…that would’ve been the ‘right’ thing to do.

unfortunately for you everything that comes to mind in the head of gojo satoru is right.

you nod shyly, listening to each saccharine word that leaves his lips.

“c’mon wifey, it’s been so long” the nickname filled your chest, heavy. suddenly it was impossible to move from where you sat. “i’m seeing someone..” a hand, on his chest as a half-assed attempt to defy him.

—

“s-satoru!” you sound so cute under him, clawing at his sheets. that little confession did something to him, made him want to punish you in the most primal way.

seeing someone? oh that’s not happening, not as long as he’s breathing will you ever be with another man. you’ll always be his pretty, little, obedient wife, who spreads her legs for him any time he pleases.

after all you’re still legally married. gojo refused to sign the divorce papers you sent him and eventually you stopped trying.

you could feel a vibrating pulse within the sheets, it was your phone ringing at a time like this.

“hello?” he answers the phone mid-fuck. “oh well if it isn’t your little boyfriend? i’m in the middle of fucking your girl silly, clearly you haven’t been doing it right..”

his pace increases to a gruelling speed, each thrust clapping against your ass, and it was fucking loud. “fuck! satoru please—! hang uuuuuup.” your begging only fuelled the fire, you needed to know who you belong to and so did your boy toy on the other line.

gojo can’t help but chuckle pridefully, watching you impaled on his cock, but he needed to hear it. no, the sounds of you practically crying while he fucked you wasn’t enough. he wants to hear you beg for him, praise him even. like a god.

“let him hear it wifey ♡︎” he frees a hand by placing the phone next to your head.

“tell him how much,” thrust. “you need your husband’s cock.” thrust. “i fuck so much better than him don’t i ?” thrust. “awe.. you cryin’?”

“need it—! want it satoru! you’re so— hahh! —good!” he was made to torture you like this, fucking you dumb into his mattress while making you spew naughty things for him.

you could feel his speed getting aggressive. beads of sweat falling down his toned tummy to his v-line, the two of you making a sticky mess from being skin to skin. you couldn’t think, mind hazy and full of him.

“fuuuuuck, how about i stuff you full? maybe i should give you another baby, ‘nother reason to be attached to me.” the hypnosis in his voice casts you further under his spell as he grunts sweet nothings into you ear while he pounded your pussy.

“love it,” you growl into his pillows. “i love you satoru! cumming…i’m cumming, please let me cum—” you could only focus on the high washing over your body as your legs begin trembling, muscles spazzing at your arousal tipping over the edge.

your desperation is music to his ears, his lust turning uncontrollable as he assaults your cunt fucking you hard, and deep. at this rate he’ll get you pregnant.

“cum for me, cum with me— shit!” he drawls, gritted through his teeth, bottoming out in his favourite fucking pussy. this feeling will never get old, fucking you will never not be his favourite pastime.

meanwhile the overstimulation teasing your cunt made you that much wetter, and tighter for him. you couldn’t take it anymore, you need it — need his seed sopping out of you. you didn’t even care about your boyfriend who was still listening to this live porn. gojo’s rewired that wondering brain of yours. back to him, in this house, on his bed, fucking his cock.

you might just even take him back.

his pleasure builds as he pumps into your cunt a few more times, before emptying inside of you. you could feel it, cunt full of him. his body collapses on top of yours, fingers intertwining on your hands while you both catch your breath.

“she’s not coming home.” the line cuts.

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writingwithcolor · 4 months

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My alternate universe fantasy colonial Hong Kong is more authoritarian and just as racist but less homophobic than in real life, should I change that?

@floatyhands asked:

I’m a Hongkonger working on a magical alternate universe dystopia set in what is basically British colonial Hong Kong in the late 1920s. My main character is a young upper middle-class Eurasian bisexual man. I plan to keep the colony’s historical racial hierarchy in this universe, but I also want the fantasy quirks to mean that unlike in real life history, homosexuality was either recently decriminalized, or that the laws are barely enforced, because my boy deserves a break. Still, the institutions are quite homophobic, and this relative tolerance might not last. Meanwhile, due to other divergences (e.g. eldritch horrors, also the government’s even worse mishandling of the 1922 Seamen's Strike and the 1925 Canton-Hong Kong Strike), the colonial administration is a lot more authoritarian than it was in real history. This growing authoritarianism is not exclusive to the colony, and is part of a larger global trend in this universe. I realize these worldbuilding decisions above may whitewash colonialism, or come off as choosing to ignore one colonial oppression in favor of exaggerating another. Is there any advice as to how I can address this issue? (Maybe I could have my character get away by bribing the cops, though institutional corruption is more associated with the 1960s?) Thank you!

Historical Precedent for Imperialistic Gay Rights

There is a recently-published book about this topic that might actually interest you: Racism And The Making of Gay Rights by Laurie Marhoefer (note: I have yet to read it, it’s on my list). It essentially describes how the modern gay rights movement was built from colonialism and imperialism.

The book covers Magnus Hirschfeld, a German sexologist in the early 1900s, and (one of) his lover(s), Li Shiu Tong, who he met in British Shanghai. Magnus is generally considered to have laid the groundwork for a lot of gay rights, and his research via the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft was a target of Nazi book-burnings, but he was working with imperial governments in an era where the British Empire was still everywhere.

Considering they both ended up speaking to multiple world leaders about natural human sexual variation both in terms of intersex issues and sexual attraction, your time period really isn’t that far off for people beginning to be slightly more open-minded—while also being deeply imperialist in other ways.

The thing about this particular time period is homosexuality as we know it was recently coming into play, starting with the trial of Oscar Wilde and the rise of Nazism. But between those two is a pretty wildly fluctuating gap of attitudes.

Oscar Wilde’s trial is generally considered the period where gay people, specifically men who loved men, started becoming a group to be disliked for disrupting social order. It was very public, very scandalous, and his fall from grace is one of the things that drove so many gay and/or queer men underground. It also helped produce some of the extremely queercoded classical literature of the Victorian and Edwardian eras (ex: Dracula), because so many writers were exploring what it meant to be seen as such negative forces. A lot of people hated Oscar Wilde for bringing the concept to such a public discussion point, when being discreet had been so important.

But come the 1920s, people were beginning to wonder if being gay was that bad, and Mangus Hirschfeld managed to do a world tour of speaking come the 1930s, before all of that was derailed by wwii. He (and/or Li Shiu Tong) were writing papers that were getting published and sent to various health departments about how being gay wasn’t an illness, and more just an “alternative” way of loving others.

This was also the era of Boston Marriages where wealthy single women lived together as partners (I’m sure there’s an mlm-equivalent but I cannot remember or find it). People were a lot less likely to care if you kept things discreet, so there might be less day to day homophobia than one would expect. Romantic friendships were everywhere, and were considered the ideal—the amount of affection you could express to your same-sex best friend was far above what is socially tolerable now.

Kaz Rowe has a lot of videos with cited bibliographies about various queer disasters [affectionate] of the late 1800s/early 1900s, not to mention a lot of other cultural oddities of the Victorian era (and how many of those attitudes have carried into modern day) so you can start to get the proper terms to look it up for yourself.

I know there’s a certain… mistrust of specifically queer media analysts on YouTube in the current. Well. Plagiarism/fact-creation scandal (if you don’t know about the fact-creation, check out Todd in the Shadows). I recommend Kaz because they have citations on screen and in the description that aren’t whole-cloth ripped off from wikipedia’s citation list (they’ve also been published via Getty Publications, a museum press).

For audio-preferring people (hi), a video is more accessible than text, and sometimes the exposure to stuff that’s able to pull exact terms can finally get you the resources you need. If text is more accessible, just jump to the description box/transcript and have fun. Consider them and their work a starting place, not a professor.

There is always a vulnerability in learning things, because we can never outrun our own confirmation bias and we always have limited time to chase down facts and sources—we can only do our best and be open to finding facts that disprove what we researched prior.

Colonialism’s Popularity Problem

Something about colonialism that I’ve rarely discussed is how some colonial empires actually “allow” certain types of “deviance” if that deviance will temporarily serve its ends. Namely, when colonialism needs to expand its territory, either from landing in a new area or having recently messed up and needing to re-charm the population.

By that I mean: if a fascist group is struggling to maintain popularity, it will often conditionally open its doors to all walks of life in order to capture a greater market. It will also pay its spokespeople for the privilege of serving their ends, often very well. Authoritarians know the power of having the token supporter from a marginalized group on payroll: it both opens you up directly to that person’s identity, and sways the moderates towards going “well they allow [person/group] so they can’t be that bad, and I prefer them.”

Like it or not, any marginalized group can have its fascist members, sometimes even masquerading as the progressives. Being marginalized does not automatically equate to not wanting fascism, because people tend to want fascist leaders they agree with instead of democracy and coalition building. People can also think that certain people are exaggerating the horrors of colonialism, because it doesn’t happen to good people, and look, they accept their friends who are good people, so they’re fine.

A dominant fascist group can absolutely use this to their advantage in order to gain more foot soldiers, which then increases their raw numbers, which puts them in enough power they can stop caring about opening their ranks, and only then do they turn on their “deviant” members. By the time they turn, it’s usually too late, and there’s often a lot of feelings of betrayal because the spokesperson (and those who liked them) thought they were accepted, instead of just used.

You said it yourself that this colonial government is even stricter than the historical equivalent—which could mean it needs some sort of leverage to maintain its popularity. “Allowing” gay people to be some variation of themselves would be an ideal solution to this, but it would come with a bunch of conditions. What those conditions are I couldn’t tell you—that’s for your own imagination, based off what this group’s ideal is, but some suggestions are “follow the traditional dating/friendship norms��, “have their own gender identity slightly to the left of the cis ideal”, and/or “pretend to never actually be dating but everyone knows and pretends to not care so long as they don’t out themselves”—that would signal to the reader that this is deeply conditional and about to all come apart.

It would, however, mean your poor boy is less likely to get a break, because he would be policed to be the “acceptable kind of gay” that the colonial government is currently tolerating (not unlike the way the States claims to support white cis same-sex couples in the suburbs but not bipoc queer-trans people in polycules). It also provides a more salient angle for this colonial government to come crashing down, if that’s the way this narrative goes.

Colonial governments are often looking for scapegoats; if gay people aren’t the current one, then they’d be offered a lot more freedom just to improve the public image of those in power. You have the opportunity to have the strikers be the current scapegoats, which would take the heat off many other groups—including those hit by homophobia.

In Conclusion

Personally, I’d take a more “gays for Trump” attitude about the colonialism and their apparent “lack” of homophobia—they’re just trying to regain popularity after mishandling a major scandal, and the gay people will be on the outs soon enough.

You could also take the more nuanced approach and see how imperialism shaped modern gay rights and just fast-track that in your time period, to give it the right flavour of imperialism. A lot of BIPOC lgbtqa+ people will tell you the modern gay rights movement is assimilationalist, colonialist, and other flavours of ick, so that angle is viable.

You can also make something that looks more accepting to the modern eye by leaning heavily on romantic friendships that encouraged people waxing poetic for their “best friends”, keeping the “lovers” part deeply on the down low, but is still restrictive and people just don’t talk about it in public unless it’s in euphemisms or among other same-sex-attracted people because there’s nothing wrong with loving your best friend, you just can’t go off and claim you’re a couple like a heterosexual couple is.

Either way, you’re not sanitizing colonialism inherently by having there be less modern-recognized homophobia in this deeply authoritarian setting. You just need to add some guard rails on it so that, sure, your character might be fine if he behaves, but there are still “deviants” that the government will not accept.

Because that’s, in the end, one of the core tenants that makes a government colonial: its acceptance of groups is frequently based on how closely you follow the rules and police others for not following them, and anyone who isn’t their ideal person will be on the outs eventually. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a facade of pretending those rules are totally going to include people who are to the left of those ideals, if those people fit in every other ideal, or you’re safe only if you keep it quiet.

~ Leigh

#colonialism #colonization #worldbuilding #alternate history #history #lgbt #china #hong kong #british empire #ask

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hecateslore · 3 months

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hey! so bad bunny has a song called perro negro idk if you ever heard it but there’s a line in that music that says “tu tiene cara que tiene la pussy linda” and i was wondering if you could write yk a little something with Simon and a fem reader who just started dating and their relationship is still in the early stages and they haven’t gotten in bed together yet and the reader is pretty shy but not the uwu shy the type of shy that laughs and gets shocked when she’s embarrassed and one day simon jokingly and lightly flirts with her and she gets a struck of courage out of nowhere and flirts with him back but in a more sexual way? and simon gets surprised and uses that or a variation of that line from perro negro with her and in results in a hot smut scene please 🙏🏻

(also i loved loved loved the two office fics you wrote with simon they’re 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻 can’t wait for more ❤️)

I did the best I could, but im suppeeer obsessed with the song FINA off his new album. I hope you enjoy lolz. ♥️♥️

Also I wrote this with Supervisor!Simon on my mind, cause y'all know how much I love how awkward reader is in this au lmao.

MDNI | afab reader

You and Simon decided to have a date night in, drinking wine and listening to the soft jazz playlist for the background. You’d both got off work around the same time, you both got the closing shift and decided to make dinner at your place.

It's also the first time Simon has seen the inside of your place, it’s small for him, but the perfect size for you. Almost every room decorated, a touch of you in every piece of furniture. You stood in the kitchen, pulling out the two aluminum tins filled with tonight's dinner out of the oven. “These’ll pair well with the red, no?” Simon nods, watching your frame move around the kitchen, earlier you denied his help and told him to shush and sit. So he did.

“I like it here.” Simon looked around your apartment once again, “Very you.” he teased.

“What does that mean?” you pretend to look shocked as you hand him two glass plates. “It’s like you all around me.” Simon chuckles. “You’d want me all around you.” you snort, “Oh wait-”

Simon's eyes widened at the sleazy joke. Your hand immediately flies to your mouth in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean-” Simon waves you off, “It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind checking if it's as pretty down there as it is up here.” He sends you a wink as he fixes both of your plates, your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

The next forty five minutes was the two of you flirting back and forth at the dinner table, saying very lewd jokes to each other, Simon making you extremely giddy- his deep brown eyes watching you intently as you went on and on about how a certain coworker.

You both then moved to the living Area, “No shoes on the carpet” You reach your arm across his frame blocking him from entering your lounging quarters. He begrudgingly took each shoe off, “My clothes next?” that earned a little “simon!” from you.

The two of you plop on the couch, Simon slouching while man-spreading and you right next to him, “you’re lucky I didn’t tell you to bring a change of clothes.” he turns his head to you, “why?” “outside clothes on the couch. I’d never let anyone do this, you’re the exception.” you say.

“I could just take them off?” he smirks, “Simon don’t be gross.” you let out a hearty laugh,swatting playfully at Simon's arm. "No funny business on my couch," you warn him with a mock stern expression. Simon raises his hands in surrender, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Alright, alright, I promise to behave," he teases, leaning back against the cushions.

“You’re a sweet girl, you know that?” He raises his large hand to caress your cheek,“I’d like to believe so.” you turn your head to kiss his palm softly, savoring the tenderness of the moment. you lean in to peck his cheek,Lost in your thoughts, you absentmindedly trace circles on Simon's chest with your fingertips. He shifts slightly, his eyes gazing into yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Do you want to see what the inside of my room looks like?" you ask softly as you continue to trace circles on Simon's chest. He raises an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Are you inviting me to your room?" he teases.

You whisper to him, "I think you should follow me!", you make a fake shocked expression that makes Simon let out a cackle "Lead the way," he whispers back, getting up, you make way into your bedroom, going down the very short hallway that leads to your room, Simon's hand on your lower back.

You push open your door, refraining from jumping him the second he passes the threshold, you go to sit on your bed and Simon admires your room for a quick second,"Did you mean what you said in the kitchen?" you question, he looked confused, "about seeing me," you motion past your waist "down there.""Yes," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. "I've been holding out until you felt ready, I wouldn't want to ruin this for you"Simon takes a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "But only if you're comfortable," he adds, his voice soft.

"I'm comfortable, are you comfortable?" you look into his deep brown eyes

"I am," he replies, Simon takes another step towards you, bending down so now he's kneeling between your legs, your lips brush against his, a small smile on his lips before he closes his eyes and allows himself to be lost in the softness of your kiss. It's deep and it intensifies, each movement filled with desperation. Without breaking the kiss, Simon's hands slide up your body, groping your breasts and tugging at your blouse, you let out soft moans opposed to Simon's growls and groans.

Simon breaks the kiss,"Go lay on your back" his accent thicker than usual. He starts pulling his shirt off-You obediently peel off your blouse and lie down on your bed, Simon quickly discards his clothes and joins you, "These pants have to go." he pulls your work slacks down with an unnatural ease, leaving you only in your panties and bra, Simon in his boxers. He kisses you again then trails down your body, wet kisses in between the valley of your bust.

His fingers plunge into the cup of your bra, and he pulls you up and out of it, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He kisses you again, his tongue flickering across your lips. You moan softly, savoring the sensation of his touch against your skin.

Simon's hands slide down over your panties, and he tugs them off, leaving you naked. His two large hands rub up and down your inner thighs, causing you to spread your legs wide open for a better view, "Even prettier than I thought." he says as his lips inch closer to your core, you tense up slightly, biting your lip in anticipation.”You're a very dirty man-" your cut off as he leans in and presses his lips against your core, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. You let out a loud whimper as his tongue glides against your folds, tasting your wetness for the very first time.

"Oh, God," you moan, thrusting your hips upward. Simon's hands grip your thighs, He pulls back form between your legs, "I need to be inside you.'' He rids himself of his boxers and you can't help but to stare at the man before you, Simon is big. His cheeks and ears red from the adrenaline, he looked so handsome, your hand immediately goes in between you thighs, you rub yourself "Fuck me, Simon. Please," you plead, Simon swats your hand away and guides his thick cock head into your very wet and swollen pussy, pushing in slowly until you're both gasping for breath. His eyes locked onto yours, He starts thrusting, his hips moving in and out, filling you up with every stroke. He grabs your face while he moves in and out of you teasingly slowly, "Look a' me" you whine at his movements. He leans down to kiss you, his tongue intertwining with yours as he continues to thrust into you. You meet his movements with your own, wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling him deeper inside you.

"I'm gonna cum Simon," You whimper out as he drills into you harder and faster, "I want to feel you come around me." Simon fixed his gaze on yours and increased his pace, his hips slamming into you with each powerful thrust. "I told you I wanted you all around me didn't I?" Simon growled, his voice low and sensual. "Oh my god i'm gonna cum," you gasp out. His eyes darkened with lust as he felt your walls beginning to tighten around him. "Don't cum in me." you manage to moan out.His movements slow down, but the intensity of them only grows. you can feel his warm breath against your ear, and his voice is low and ragged when he says, "I won't, baby. I promise."

his palms press down on my thighs, spreading my legs even wide, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming" Simon moans in reply, his hips bucking, "Oh fuck!" he yells as he pulls out and strokes himself. You watch, breathless and aroused as he speeds up his pace, his muscles tensing, He then lets out a loud groan as he releases his cum all over your sloppy cunt. Simon collapses onto you, panting heavily, his heartbeat pounding against your chest. You can feel his hot breath on your neck, and the sticky warmth of his release between your legs.

You both lay in silence for a second, before Simon lifts himself off of you. “Well that was fun" you breathe, he chuckles and kisses your forehead, "It sure was. who knew you could be so vulgar?" You swat his arm,

"Simon!"

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taasgirl · 21 days

Text

blue light - lando norris

summary: y/n is a professional footballer for arsenal, and takes a quick pitstop to the australian gp! her and lando end up taking a liking to each other, and reunite on a night out.

warnings: mentions of acl injury, nothing too bad

word count: 4.2k - sorry if there's any typos lol

I would be lying if I said that I knew how this worked. I also would be lying if I said that I found this enjoyable. I’ve spent too long concentrating on my career, that I never really cared to watch others; especially not Formula 1. But here I am.

The Australian Grand Prix, my ‘home tournament’ some would say. Growing up in Sydney, no one cared for motorsports - it was more about football, all variations of it.

I was sitting with the girls in one of the many stands. We had been followed around for majority of the day, there were a lot of people asking for photos. But honestly, I didn’t mind, in fact I really loved when I was recognised.

Steph attempted to explain how the races worked to me and the other girls, but we couldn’t get it.

The flag was waved and the race begun. There was a lot of commotion, everyone was buzzing to be watching a Grand Prix. “So what time will this finish?” I asked Steph, “Just watch it Y/N.” The other girls laughed at her focus on the track - the cars weren’t even there anymore.

After a few laps I started to get hungry. “I’m gonna grab food. Any of youse want any?” The girls shook their heads; they were as focused as Steph.

I walked through ‘The Paddock’. The passes we had allowed us to be there and I could tell that they were expensive. There were drivers left right and centre.

I made my way to a hot chips stand and ordered four portions. “A bit hungry yeah?” I turned around and was met with the face of a boy. Well maybe a man. He was fully decked out in the Mclaren gear. Either a driver or a huge fan.

“Nah for my friends.” He laughed and after ordering his food stood by me as we waited.

“I’m Oscar.” He lent his hand out, and I shook it in response, “Y/N.” He smiled at me “I know.”

“So what’s a footballer doing at the races huh?” He recognised me. “Honestly, I have no idea. My friends dragged me along.” He laughed. “Maybe my team can help you out.” He smirked at me. “And what team would that be?”

“Mclaren.”

“So some guy offers his exclusive lounge to you, and you believe him?” Katie was looking me up and down, very obviously unimpressed. “I think he’s a driver. Steffie is there someone from Mclaren called Oscar?” She looked at me immediately.

“You met Oscar Piastri?” I nodded. “And he invited you to the Mclaren lounge?” I nodded and then stopped, “Well all of us.”

We were all sat very lavishly at a bar. Oscar had met us outside the Mclaren suite and brought us inside.

“So if you’re a driver, why aren’t you out there?” I pointed to the TV that was following the cars. “I had a crash a few weeks ago, and I’m still not cleared to race yet.” I winced. The idea of crashing at the speeds that the men were going irked me. “It wasn’t anything bad. Just a concussion.”

“So who’s out there now?” Oscar smiled at me. “Lando. Lando Norris.” His smile was cheeky. “He’s gonna be buzzing when he sees you after the race.” I looked at him nonchalantly. “Honestly, he’s a huge Arsenal fan. You’re his favourite player too.” A smile creeped across my face. I was intrigued by this ‘Lando Norris’ person.

“Do you have a photo of him? I wanna know what he looks like.” Oscar scoffed. “Take a look around. His face is everywhere.”

Oscar wasn’t lying. There were posters everywhere of Lando Norris. Him celebrating, him posing, him and Oscar. He must be a big shot.

“Good looking guy right?” I laughed almost uncomfortably.

But I did find him attractive. In fact, as soon as Oscar had left us for his team, I was already searching up Lando on instagram.

By the time the races had finished, it was a bit past four. After getting the rundown from some of the Mclaren workers, I had kinda figured out what was happening.

Carlos Sainz won the race. Lando came third, and everyone was stoked. “But isn’t third just kinda bad?” Steph smacked Caitlin. “It’s different in racing now shut up.” The rest of us snickered. We had a perfect view of the podium, and all the guys on it.

“He’s cute.” Katie nudged me, earning an eye roll. “You should talk to him. I know you like your English.” Katie was one of my closest friends, she took me under her wing when I signed for arsenal, and for that I will always be indebted to her.

Once the boys had finished celebrating their win, we were brought back to the Mclaren suite.

“Stay here, I’ll bring Lando over.” Oscar held my shoulder before he went looking for the driver. As we were waiting, I was lightly tapped. Turning around, I can face to face with a journalist.

“Hi Y/N how are you?” She was beaming. “Would you mind doing a quick interview with us, it’ll only take a minute?” I smiled at her and agreed.

We were pulled into a less busy part of the room, and she handed over to me a microphone. The camera was directed at me, so I quickly touched up my hair.

“How are you enjoying the races, big fan?” I rubbed the back of my neck and responded.

“Yeah it’s been great. I don’t know too much about the whole motorsports scene but a few people from Mclaren have been helpful in explaining.”

The reporter flipped her paper.

“Speaking of Mclaren, do you have an affiliation with the team? You’ve been in the suite all day!”

“Honestly, I bumped into Oscar while getting chips and he invited us over.” She smiled, signalling for me to go on. “Everyone’s been super welcoming, especially to the dumb questions I’ve been asking.” The camera crew around us laughed.

Finishing up the interview, I made my way over to the girls. “Okay miss popular.” The girls laughed at Katie’s remark.

“Oh that Lando guy is looking for you by the way.” I looked straight at Steph. “Don’t look at me like that. He came around to us and left straight away when he realised you weren’t here.” I took a seat next to Caitlin.

“Y/N, come!” Oscar shouted from across the room. I could see his hand waving over to me, and so I got up.

“This is Lando.” Lando had an arm thrown around Oscar, very obviously tired. “Hey.” We reached our hands out and shook.

“Listen, I’m a huge fan of yours.” I smiled at him thankfully.

“Yeah he’s got about fifty jersey with your name on the back.” Oscar chimed, but was immediately shut down by a light kick to his shin, Lando’s doing. “Okay I’m not that weird.” We laughed together, until the silence turned awkward.

“I never picked you for a F1 enjoyer, who’d you support.” Oscar laughed, earning a concerned look on Lando’s face.

“Would it kill you if I said that I don’t watch it. Like at all?”

He clutched his heart sarcastically.

“I’m sorry! I’ve just never really been into it.” Oscar shook his head. “Ok ok, if it’s you two racing, then I’ll consider watching. It’s the least I can do for a fan.” Lando clutched his chest again.

“Gosh Y/N, you really know what to say to get a man’s heart pumping.” We laughed it off again.

“You should probably get back to your team. Celebrate the win?” It was less a statement than a question. “I’m just gonna shut up before I end up giving you a heart attack.”

He took his hand in mine, and pulled me in for a hug. “There’ll be a party later. You’re all invited to join if you’d like.” I nodded. “I’ll let them know.”

“So what’s the dress code?” Steph walked into my room, taking a look at the clothes still in their suitcase. “Not formal I don’t think. Just like a normal party.” She began picking up my clothes and placing them on my bed.

“You should wear a dress.” She threw me one of my green dresses. “This one. I bet he’ll wanna take it off later tonight.” I laughed. “Yeah not happening Stephie.”

Oscar had given me his number and sent the details for tonight. It was gonna be a party with almost all the drivers, and a shit ton of people.

The girls were already done getting ready, it seemed that I was the only one rocking up in a dress. They were all in skinny jeans. God I really needed to help with their wardrobe situation.

“Hurry up Y/N we’re gonna leave without you.” Katie called from the hallway.

“Holy shit.” We were all stood in front of an elusive door. We could see the lights sparkling from the windows of the home, music blasting. “Now who the fuck gave up their house for a rave?” I questioned, earning an embarrassingly loud laugh from Steph.

Once we had walked inside, it was quite obvious that we weren’t gonna be finding Lando or Oscar anytime soon.

The house was packed. Bodies were everywhere, dancing, kissing, just straight up passed out.

We made our rounds of the party, figuring out our bearings before coming to the kitchen.

“Y/N?” I turned around, my name was almost whispered, but I could still hear it.

I had come face to face with my ex. “Oh my God, hi Jay.” He hugged me. A hug that I had known too well.

“What’re you doing here? I didn’t even know you were back home.” He was holding a red cup. Classic. It was probably filled with beer considering how he smelt. “Just a quick trip back home. We were invited to the race.” He nodded, taking a swig.

Jayden and I hadn’t exactly ended on the best terms. He was my first serious boyfriend and we lasted two years. Until I had to move to London. He was angry at me for choosing work over love. But I had to. I loved football more than I loved him.

“Do you need somewhere to stay? I’ve got rooms in my hotel.” I immediately shut him down. “You’re too kind, but nah, I’m staying at Steph’s house.” As soon as I mentioned the name I could tell he cringed. He never liked Steph, he said she was too protective over me.

“Y/N!” I spun around and saw Oscar. “Having fun?”

“Watch it mate.” Jayden stepped up to Oscar. “Calm your tits. Just saying hello to a friend.” Jayden scoffed at his response. “Yeah well, leave my girlfriend alone.” He spat.

“The fuck Jayden?” I made eye contact with Oscar, "Ex. From a long time ago." I emphasised the 'long'. Oscar nodded, and signalled for me to follow him.

We walked further into the house, and had stopped at what I assumed to be the living room.

Lando, arms splayed over the head rests of the couch he was sitting on, looked me up and down. “Look who decided to show up!” He stood up and gave me a hug. “You look great.”

His cologne was strong, a vanilla scent.

"This is insane." I referred to the house and the people around us. "Yeah in all honesty, I have no idea whose house this is." We both laughed, still standing close to each other.

For some reason, I felt as if there was no one else here. Like it was just him and I. "You know I should probably get your number. Just in case you wanna come to more races." While he reached for his phone, I responded. "Hmm are you sure this isn't actually your attempt at scoring free arsenal tickets?" He passed me his phone, unlocked. "Me? Never." I smiled and created a contact in his phone.

"Message me, Lando Norris."

We had finally landed in London, after way too many hours cramped in a plane, I could finally stretch my legs. "Welcome to London." Katie looked out of the window, rain pouring from the sky. "Is it too late to go back?" I questioned.

Lando still hadn't messaged me, and in all honesty, I gave up on him ever reaching out.

After our conversation at the party, I was drawn back to the girls and didn't see him at all afterwards.

"Anyone for Nandos?"

"I'm gonna find you a hot English guy." Steph was sat at my vanity, fixing up her minimal makeup while I was sat on the floor, deciding what shoes would match my outfit best.

We were going out for a team dinner and I was knackered from training this week. Friday night out just didn't seem that appealing to me. "I'll pass." I settled on an old pair of sneakers. "Not even Lando Norris?" I didn't reply. The girls hadn't stopped going on about Lando since Australia, and were confused when he hadn't messaged me after the party.

"Oh come on. You're telling me that if you saw him you wouldn't immediately jump in his pants?"

"Firstly, ew don't talk about him like that, and secondly, I doubt he'd even remember me. We talked for what? Five minutes at most." She walked over to me and picked me up off the floor. "Come on, we'll be late."

Once we arrived at the restaurant, I took a seat next to Leah and checked the menu. I ordered a well-done steak with a side of salad, along with a glass of red wine.

"How you feeling for the weekend?" I asked Leah. It was her first game starting since her ACL injury, and I could tell that she was beyond nervous. "I'm scared. Like I want to be out there so badly, but I'm so afraid I'll do it again." I smiled at her sympathetically.

"If there's anyone who can bounce back, it's you." I paused, "You know, what I find weird?" She shrugged. "I haven't told you this, but before I came to Arsenal, I had posters of you in my room." She looked shocked. "Are you actually serious?"

I nodded in response. "You are seriously my favourite footballer. I remember when I got the call from my agent, all I could think about was the fact that you'd be my teammate. Not that I was playing in the WSL, or even Arsenal. It was you." She smiled, I could see her eyes glisten a little.

"Every single day you inspire me, and I promise, when you walk onto the pitch on Sunday, you're going to inspire a whole load of other people too." She hugged me.

"You're too sweet Y/N. Thank you." When we detached, I was met with a stunned Steph. "What?" I asked.

"Turn around." I looked behind and saw Lando sat at the bar. "Oh my fucking god." I faced back at Steph.

"Go up to him." I shook my head aggressively. "Absolutely not."

"If you don't, I'm gonna call out to him." I looked her dead in the eyes. "You wouldn't dare." She smiled, "I so would."

No one except Leah ad caught up on what Steph and I were talking about, until I heard my name shouted out from the other end of the table.

"Y/N look!" Katie pointed towards Lando, who had turned around at the crazed woman screaming.

We made eye contact and he smiled at me, getting up from his seat. I quickly got up too, and met him halfway.

"What are the chances?" He hugged me as I responded. "Wow this is really weird."

"How you been?" He asked, his hand on mine. "Ah yeah I'm good, just out with the girls for dinner." I turned around to draw his attention to them, only to be met with the eyes of every single person at that table. "Oh god don't mind them." He chuckled.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in Monaco?" He raised his eyebrow at me. "How'd you know I live in Monaco?" My cheeks turned red. "Have you been googling me?" He questioned, smiling down at me.

"I'm so embarrassed oh my god." I took a breath. "Hey, you never messaged me." I looked at him sternly, while he looked at me confused. "You are aware that you gave me the wrong number right?" He took out his phone and opened up his texts.

I cringed, and tapped on the number. "Oh my god, I did give you the wrong number, see I put 6 instead of 7." I pointed at the digits. "Why didn't you just get my number off of Oscar then?"

He put his phone back into his pocket. "Well as much as I didn't want to believe it, I thought you purposely gave me the wrong number. You know, to let me know you weren't interested." My jaw dropped. "You know, if my memory serves me right, I'm pretty sure I told you to message me."

"Hey, I didn't want to cross any boundaries, plus Oscar pointed out your ex to me, and I definitely was not gonna get on his bad side." I cringed at the thought of Jayden. "He's so gross." Lando agreed.

"I'm sorry about everyone staring too." I referred to my teammates, still looking over at Lando and I. "They're a little bit too interested in my love life." Chuckling, he sent a wave over to them. "Love life huh?" He smirked.

"Come sit with us." Katie (of course) yelled out at him. "Don't listen to her, I should probably let you get back to whatever you were doing."

He scratched the back of his head. "I wasn't doing much, I'd be happy to sit down with you lot." I looked back at the girls, Steph was beaming. "Maybe not, she looks a little creepy right now." He laughed. "Well if you really don't want me around your friends, why don't we just go for a walk then?"

"Why not?" He ushered for me to start walking and soon enough, we were out on the London streets.

"I heard that you have a game coming up." I was looking down as he looked to me. "Uh yeah, Sunday." He was about to speak when I cut him off. "You should come. I'd be happy to get you some tickets."

"Yeah actually that'd be great. I might just have to bring my Y/N jersey." He nudged my shoulder with his as we continued walking.

"You never know, maybe I'll even sign it."

"So what were you doing in a restaurant by yourself? Waiting for a date maybe?" I questioned, making his cheeks turn red. "I wish. I'm here for a few days before I have to fly to Japan. Just wanted a nice meal."

"Well come on, let's go find somewhere to eat." I grabbed his hand and pulled him along. "Don't you need to get back?" I shook my head "They know I'm in safe hands."

"Nah you're having a laugh, are you serious?" Lando and I had found a hole-in-the-wall pizza shop and were sat opposite each other. "No I'm serious, I got my permit like a year ago, but I refuse to drive."

"I don't know Y/N, that might be a dealbreaker. I mean, my whole life is driving." He was laughing. "Yeah well then you can just drive me everywhere." His smile was warm, comforting. "I'd like that."

Once we had finished up eating we started to walk back. Steph had texted me to say that she and the girls had left. "How are you getting home?" He asked me. "Probably an Uber." He tutted and shook his head. "Let me drive you."

"Thank you Lando. I really enjoyed this." I was standing outside his car as he dropped me off to my house. Through the rolled down window, I couldn't stop looking at him. "It was my pleasure. I want to see you again, soon." I started to blush.

"Wait, let me give you my actual number."

He immediately responded, "No need. I just need to change the 6 to a 7." I smiled, he remembered.

"I'm expecting some tickets by the way. And don't you dare put me up in the nosebleeds." We laughed together. "I'll see you later Lando."

"Get off your phone Y/N." I quickly dropped my phone into my bag, and looked up at Katie.

"There are no excuses today. We're giving it our all. These points are ours." The changeroom erupted. Today we had Chelsea, and it would absolutely decisive for us in the title race.

I was unlike most of the girl on the team, I preferred to sit and relax before games rather than getting energised early. "Are you messaging who I think you're messaging?" Steph slid in next to me.

"Shut up Steph." She grabbed my shoulders and lightly shook me, "And to think that you didn't want to go to the race." I shooed her away before picking my phone up to play some music.

I shuffled my playlist, and let saturn by sza start playing.

"You alright?" Leah tapped on my shoulder, to which I pulled one of my airpods out. "Yeah, just trying to concentrate you know?"

It was a pain in my knee. It hurt like a bitch. I fell to the ground immediately and clutched my leg. "Fuck fuck fuck." Steph ran straight to me, followed closely by a few of the other girls.

"Shit." Steph held my right knee. No one wanted to say what we thought it was. The dreaded ACL.

"I'm okay, it's fine." I tried to calm the girls down. I had stuck my leg foolishly into a tackle and twisted it slightly.

The physio who had come to aid me, placed a hand on my knee. "Where is it Y/N?" I pointed to the top of my knee. "Okay, you'll be right. Do you want to come off."

"No." He nodded and helped me stand up. "How's it feeling." I put pressure on it. "It's good." We walked off the field and I signalled to Jonas that I was fine.

After a quick treatment of cream and tape, I was ready to join my team again. The fourth official waited until the referee allowed me to come on, and I sprinted back into place.

"You got it Y/N." Leah shouted to me.

"And you're alright yeah?" Katie came around to me after the match ended. We finished strong with a 2-1 win, the goals from Alessia.

"Honestly, I feel fine. The physio said it was probably just a cork." She nodded in understanding. "Rest up, we need you." We walked towards the bench, smiles everywhere.

I looked out beyond the bench and saw Lando. He was standing up, cheering us on, a smiled crept across my face.

Jonas pulled us in for a group talk and, in all honesty, I couldn't focus on anything he was saying. My attention was completely on the fact that I could talk to Lando afterwards. I wasn't sure on how exactly I could go up to him.

"I'm so fucking proud of you girls." Once we were done congratulating each other, I was able to make my way to the seats above the bench.

I took a plethora of photos and signed many jerseys, still waiting for Lando to appear amongst the fans. Once I had finished with the section, I looked up in search of him.

"Y/N!" My name was called out from behind me. I turned around, and after seeing who it was, I walked over.

I threw my hands over Lando's shoulders, as he held my waist in for a hug. "You scared the shit out of me." He looked at me sternly, but it looked my friendly. "I scared the shit out of myself." He laughed. "Hey, look." He stepped slightly away from me and lifted up his hoodie.

Underneath it was our pink Stella McCartney kit. He pulled his hoodie off completely and showed me the back. My last name stood above the number 10.

"It's nice right?" He questioned. "Mhm." My only response. "Only mhm? I spent 200 quid on this!" I laughed at him. "I think I'll do you one better." I pulled the shirt I was wearing off and handed it over to him. "Matchworn, gotta be worth something." I smiled.

"Oh wow, are you serious?" He asked, holding the shirt in his hands. "You don't wanna keep it?" I shook my head. "Nah, I have plenty. Plus now you can start an official Y/N collection."

"Guess this means I'll have to give you my helmet after a race huh?"

"You're already inviting me to a race?" I asked, batting my eyes.

"Well the British GP isn't for a few more months so-" I cut him off before he could finish. "What about Japan?" He looked down at me confused. "What do you mean love?"

"What if I came to Japan? I'm sure they'd let me go down for a day or two." I couldn't help but replicate the smile that was on his face.

He didn't say anything, and instead leaned in.

His lips met mine as he held my face. I kissed him back passionately. Who would've thought that going to a silly race would end like this?

We pulled apart. "You better come to Japan."

lmk if you guys liked this!! i love lando and football sm, so why not mix the two??

say something is coming guys!! i'm in a bit of a slump :/ but my exams will be over soon thankfully

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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months

Text

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.1

So disclaimer: I took screenshots instead of photographing my screen this time, but the quality of footage is a thousand times worse so the images are still mostly shit. But anyway, here we go :)

We're going to have to keep a tally on how many times they refer to their relationship in romantic terms. Less than a minute in, Paul has used the description, “great love affair.”

And John's right on his heels with “the sexual equivalent of . . . People in love.” So there's 2 already. Oh boy.

That opening montage of John and Paul just living for the light in each other's eyes should actually be the official music video for “I wanna hold your hand.”

Also I wonder how many songs they have about hiding. Someone's got to have a list somewhere right?

I adore the absolute lack of reaction to John manhandling Paul.

And then This Look. He's in love with him, ladies and gentlemen.

I remember seeing somewhere that this footage was literally right after they'd finished “she loves you.” Which was pretty recently after Bob Wooler, which was right after Barcelona. And if you're like me and you think that song is secretly about their relationship? If Paul's just been singing “she said you hurt her so, she almost lost her mind, but now she says she knows you're not the hurting kind. She said she loves you” at you, after all of that? Of course John's acting like a fucking puppy dog.

Poor George tally number 1

Excuse me??? John wants to live in the Beatle apartment instead of with his actual literal wife until Paul decides to move in with his girlfriend? What? He's so insane. Cynthia, you're lucky Paul's a fucking social climber.

I think it's indicative of two things that Paul said “screw secret girlfriends” while John happily went along with secret wives. One: different levels of security in masculinity (John doesn't have gay eyebrows etc) and two: different relationships. Jane and Paul's relationship was a smart career move for both of them and I think, being upper-class, and having her own career, and not being a mother, Jane was in more of a position to have a say.

Every time I watch that footage of Ken Dodd asking about their parents I physically cringe. Poor poor babies. Do your research you idiot! I don't think that ever happened again. I wonder if Brian made sure of that.

Paul literally talks like such a husband here. “We've thought about it, and probably the thing that John and I will do . . .”

Obsessed with Paul shouldering himself between George and John after George's little joke shove. It's so protective and yet so subtle. Exactly the same strong posture and easy smile as when he stepped between John and that interviewer during the Jesus scandal.

Poor George tally number 2 (you can't quite tell from the pic but John is shoving him out of the way because how dare he put his suitcase by Paul's?! That's John's suitcase's spot!!)

All the Beatles were cuddly with each other. It's one of the cutest bits about them, the puppies in a basket aspect. But I think we'll need a “noticable spacing difference” tally for this rewatch, too, and here's the first.

Paul wearing John's hat for attention and it fully and completely doing the job? They're so embarrassing!

I actually love that John's imitation of his upper-class Scottish family (which Paul can't do) is actually much more convincing than his broad Liverpudlian (which Paul nails in two variations, one based off his own family) I'm obsessed with the class dynamics between them.

Poor George tally three. He shares this one with Ringo. That moment when Paul's pretending to interview them about their purple hearts and cuts them both off with, “thank you. Mi-mister Lennon,” and John and Paul proceed to completely forget the other two exist for who knows how long – certainly longer than the videographer was willing to record.

I find John sliding into Paul's raspy “tiiight yeeeah” with his very turned on “mmmMM it's been a hard” extremely suggestive. I'm sorry but I do.

It's like he thinks if he looks away for too long he's going to disappear or something. Which. Now that I said that. Yeah. That is what it is. Poor separation-issues baby.

Ringo: Paul, you wrote a beautiful song and you sing it great. John: yeah and you're SEXY! Let's not forget that, everyone.

Am I crazy to obsess over every little musical similarity in their songs? Yes. Can I help it? No. The little “oh-oh ohoho” in the If I Fell demo is exactly the same as in Imagine and (frothing and writhing) it means something I can feel it! I just have no idea what.

I also find the lyric change from “i hope that she won't cry” to “i hope that she will cry” extremely interesting. There's always a heterosexual explanation. Trust me, the straights are the Simone Biles of mental gymnastics. But while the published lyric can be read as a man bitter toward his ex girlfriend hoping to hurt her by flaunting his new relationship, the demo version is trickier. Could it be that he doesn't want to hurt his wife's feelings by letting her know he's in love with someone else? But who else could John Lennon possibly have been in love with at the time?

“Too too much in love. Woah, too too much in love with you.” My heart

#I'm sad because I really wanted to make a post about y'all's excellent tags on get back especially some that were such good points but I got #So if you want more discussion on those get back posts or if you want to laugh check out the tags on them #I think I'll just highlight and comment on tags as we go with ULM #ringo starr #george harrison #ulm #understanding lennon mccartney #mclennon #the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon

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writella · 9 months

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Hi! @sinsandsweetness mentioned you when I had requested something from them. Theirs was just so wonderful and needed that day.

I was wondering if you would be comfortable doing a variation of that idea. Daryl x fem!reader, gentle smut while reader needs some comfort and closeness. I understand if you wouldn’t want to.

Thank you so much.

Hi! ♡ Sure :) I can do that. Perhaps I can use it as an exercise for myself to write something shorter. I think this came out a little more fluffy than maybe you might have wanted but I still added in everything! Let me know what you think! And thank you so much for being my first anon and first request- this was so exciting for me!

Also, for any other readers, I ended up not needing to use pronouns so you can consider this afab!reader, but you can still picture it as a fem!reader, anon, it still works both ways. ♡

This includes some smut, soft!Daryl, both reader and Daryl feeling down, and both of them expressing their care for one another.

Your bedroom window is always three inches open. You knew Daryl could get through without the help, but him coming into your room at night had become a recognized habit, so you decided it was best to do it anyway. It was a sign that he was welcomed, that he didn’t always have to sneak in for whatever reason he did. You would have always let him in. He should have known that.

You didn’t question it though, talking about your feelings to him wasn’t your strong suit either. Especially not tonight when the light breeze blowing from your window touched the tears rolling down your cheek, making them chill.

You turned from it, just in case Daryl decided to come that night. You didn’t want to worry him or seem like a child. Bad things happen everyday in this world. You don’t see anyone else at camp crying all the time. Yet there you were, finding it hard to shake these feelings for the third night in a row.

You heard the sliding of the glass now, Daryl’s finger pressing up on the window to make it wider. He held the sides and put his legs through first. Normally this would have been seamless and silent, but Daryl was getting comfortable with this routine, becoming more lax with his stealth in this case.

You wiped your tears quietly, your hand movements very slow, not daring to move too far to the sides just in case he saw your fingers. You hoped he would just think you’re awake but not crying.

“You up?” He asks, his voice is a whisper, but nonetheless you hear his ever present rasp.

“Yes,”

He takes off his shoes, and his pants, and his vest, hanging it on the hooks of the back of your door. He sits on your bed then, just on the corner, his hands on his knees, motionless.

You look up at him, trying your best to make your inhale not sound like a sniffle. “Daryl?”

“Hm,”

“Are you okay?”

“Are you?” It’s a retort, but he says it just as genuinely and softly as you asked. “Why were you crying?”

You’re silent for a minute. Why is it as if you have all the words when you are alone, but the second someone is around, the second that someone shows they care, you are wordless? Your mind is so heavy, the thoughts spiraling, but your mouth is completely empty and dry. Speaking becomes impossible now. “I don’t know,” is all you can say.

You come up to him and sit beside him. He only looks at you quickly through the corners of his eyes, but keeps his head down, his hair in his face.

You hold his opposite shoulder and his leg and move your head into the crux of his neck, closing your eyes. Your hand then moves to his cheek, gently brushing up and down, feeling the bristles of his facial hair. It makes him lean into you.

Finally, his head turns to your face, your hand still resting at the side of his. Your thumb brushes over his sad eyes and his lips and he wipes your slow coming tears.

He kisses your nose, rubbing his into yours, until he starts to kiss your lips. His hand comes to your jaw and neck as he deepens it, laying you on the bed. The two of you move upwards until you reach your pillow again.

He delicately takes off your shirt, and pants, and underwear and you try to help him do the same.

He lays on you now and you hold his head and neck. His hands are at your hips as he slowly presses down on you, moving. You press up into him. He kisses your neck, peppering it lightly.

Afterwards, he pushes himself inside of you and moves only a little until his motions stop. His arms and body wrapping around you in totality. Your arms try their best to reach everywhere on his back, your movements so slow, delicate, and tender. You untangle pieces of his hair softly. He is inside of you, but truly you are hugging, embracing each other with love.

As a moment passes you finally whisper, “It’s so hard to pretend everything is okay all the time.”

You’re on the verge of tears again as you admit it. “There are things about the past that I don’t want back, ever, but some days I just really wish we didn’t have to fight… sometimes I just get so tired… sometimes I think I would-”

A scary thought comes that you decide not to share.

Daryl looks at you now, holding your head. It’s almost as if his hands are just that big as he holds both sides. You feel the warmth radiating off of them to your cheeks and your ears. He puts his forehead against yours, sending all his love through to you. “We don’t gotta pretend in here.”

He kisses your lips again, it’s sweet and light. You’ve never felt him do it like this before.

He begins to truly move inside you now. Your arms wrap around his middle back, it’s like you’re still hugging until he takes your hands in his, resting them parallel to your head as he holds on and he pumps just a bit faster, creating a deep and steady rhythm.

His head is curled into your neck as you sigh into him, his body making you feel a release from your worries. It causes him to meet your eyes again but they are closed. He kisses you once more, ‘I love you,’ his lips are truly saying as they melt into you, ‘It’ll be okay. I’ll make it okay. Just for you.’

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #twd fanfiction #twd smut #afab reader #daryl dixon x afab!reader #💌 ask answered 💌#anons ♡#wonders with writella #wonderings with daryl

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 9 months

Text

Of Truths and Dreams; Lilia Vanrouge

Dreams can tell a lot about a person. Their wants, their fears. But sometimes they can tell you the truth, and sometimes it isn't pretty.

Supporting Characters; Baul (for a second), Sebek Zigvolt

Content; Soulmate AU (I call them soul matches), gender neutral reader, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic, Chapter 7 spoilers, hurt/comfort, some General Vanrouge

Content Warning; Chapter 7 spoilers, war, death (talk, I don't describe it), angst? (idk man)

Word Count; 5.5 K

Don't put my works into AI, as AI steals in order to "create".

Sebek's Story | Malleus's Story

The Thorn Fairy had gifted a blessing to the fae, a blessing of soul matches.

A connection forged between two souls. Such a connection is rare, and different variations do occur; primarily in beastmen and merfolk. Each clan had their unique soul match bonds. And the fae were no different. However, their history was not written down on paper, or carved into the corals. The information and history of fae soul matches was an oral history, passed down from generation to generation through hushed tones.

To outsiders, they shrugged it off as just another odd behaviour of the clan, but the fae had good reason to be wary. In the past, the knowledge of fae soul matches was shared with an outsider, and because of that blunder of misplaced trust, the royal family was targeted. But that was many a queen’s reign ago. But the fae do not forget such transgressions, no; that story, that history, is used as a warning. Tell no one but whom you would trust your life with any information regarding your soul match, lest it be used against you. No one outside of the fae, save for their soul match, is to know of this most treasured bond.

Despite the secretiveness of fae soul matches, they were celebrated once they manifested themselves, as they were a blessing from the Thorn Fairy herself. There is a catch though; due to their long life spans, it can take years, decades, or even centuries in the very rare and unfortunate cases, for the bond between soul match partners to manifest itself. The only thing more unfortunate than it taking centuries is if their soul match were human… for a human lifespan is only a fraction that of even the more short-lived fae clans. It was seen as a tragedy, a doomed pairing from the beginning, with a heartbroken fae as the only possible answer. Such pairings were pitied, and seen as bad luck.

But what does the bond between soul matches take the form of within the fae? What does the Thorn Fairy’s blessing of soul matches look like?

There are many speculations on that. Many scholars say it is a mark on the body; a mole, or three scratches. But that is not correct. It is not a shared song, a stone messenger, or a coloured thread on their finger. And there is a written record of the bond as well; one just has to dig deep into the records, scrolls, and tomes that exist within the library of the former castle of the Draconia’s.

It is also a melody, a hum on the lips of many fae if by chance you are able to hear it. I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. The soul match bonds between the fae and their match took the form of shared dreams, tinted the colour of their soul. They cannot truly see the other, or speak to each other, but the gleam in their eyes is one that will stay in their mind, as it is so familiar a gleam.

…

Rest is a luxury, a luxury that Lilia could not spare. The war would not wait for the general to be well rested, or wait for him to have a nap. No, it would continue until it either ended with one side coming out the victor, or it would end with peace negotiations. Rest can wait. But the fae in his company were sleeping, and he was on the first watch.

But there was something else which made him avoid resting; his dreams. His dreams were black and white, devoid of any colour, and he was always alone in them. Yes, there may be other people, but they didn’t interact. His soul match was nowhere to be seen. Three hundred years and there has been absolutely nothing.

He wasn’t alone on watch duty though, Baul was beside him, staring out into the dark.

“You need to rest,” he huffed, shooting a look towards Lilia from the corner of his eye.

Lilia quirked a brow, but his gaze did not waver from the darkness of the forest. There was something out there, waiting. “I can rest when this is over.” His voice was cold, sharp, like that of a blade. “I cannot rest while a war is still being fought on our lands.”

Baul pushed his shoulders back and turned his eyes back to the darkness of the forest. “General, if you do not rest, it will eventually catch up to you. Whether you like it or not.”

He was right, if Lilia did sleep, it would eventually catch up with him in the worst possible moment. The last thing that he needed was to fall into a microsleep in the middle of battle. Thirty seconds of vulnerability in the heat of conflict could spell the very end for him. He let out a tired sigh, “I suppose you are right. When our shift is over I can rest.”

After an uneventful night watch, save for the crack of a stick in the distance — which turned out to be nothing more than just a deer passing through — Lilia turned in for the night in his tent. He stared up to the ceiling, and tried to fall asleep, but the harder he tried the more difficult it became, but eventually exhaustion won over frustration and Lilia fell asleep.

His dream was black and white, as always. They have been devoid of colour for the past three hundred years, so why would they be any different now?

He was a child again, playing in a flower meadow with Malenoa and Levan. Well, Malenoa was playing whereas Levan had been dragged along against his will. And Lilia? Well, wherever the crown princess went, he followed; part of it being that they were friends, the other being that he was raised alongside her and swore to protect her.

“Lilia! Come on,” Malenoa shouted from across the glen, a big smile on her face. “Last one to the thicket is a rotten egg!” And she took off, dragging Levan behind her, the young boy letting out an undignified squawk.

Lilia gave chase, a peel of laughter escaping his lips. “That’s not fair! You got a head’s start!” He eventually caught up to the two royals at the large rose thicket on the outskirts of the meadow. “I guess I’m the rotten egg,” he huffed before sitting down next to a dishevelled looking Levan.

He didn’t really understand why the Thorn Fairy had bonded them together, Malenoa and Levan couldn’t be more opposite of each other. But soul matches do work in mysterious ways… But Lilia wondered when the Thorn Fairy would place that blessing onto him. He had spent, and would spend, his life serving the royal family after the queen had taken him in, so why didn’t the first of the royal bloodline deem him worthy?

Malenoa was looking at the roses until she found one that she liked. She plucked it from the stem, whispered a quiet thank you to the briar patch, and then placed it behind Lilia’s ear. A baby pink rose, but he could not see the colour of the flower, only that it was pale. A stark contrast against Lilia’s jet black hair.

“What’s that for,” he asked but did not dare remove the flower. He should have been used to Malenoa’s antics by now, but she still caught him off guard despite their time spent together.

Malenoa hummed, “Pink suits you, plus since you were the rotten egg, you stunk so badly that you needed the rose to cover up the smell.” She stuck out her tongue and pinched her nose with her fingers, giggling. “A stinky, stinky egg! Right, Levan?”

Levan looked tired, but he nodded his head. “Unfortunately it seems so.” He coughed, trying to cover up the chortle that nearly escaped his lips.

The easy nature of the dream shifted, the briars from the rose thicket separating Lilia from Malenoa and Levan. The thicket then caught on fire, smoking out the dream (the memory?) in a thick, dark, smoke.

Lilia woke with a start, and placed his hand over his heart. It was beating fast, and he was covered in sweat. He then heard a commotion coming from outside, and it wasn’t the usual squabbling he heard as people tried to barter over the best breakfast options.

He strided out into the camp, and he didn’t make it very far until one of the soldiers came clamouring over to him, tripping over their feet in the process.

“G-general!” They heaved, looking pale. “N-news! From the front lines!” They handed him a scroll before taking back off to their tent.

Lilia opened the scroll and his eyes froze, pupils contracting into harsh slits. The parchment crumpled in his tight fist, but he regained his composure. They had a war to end, but Lilia’s mission had shifted from that of victory for country. It had shifted to justice; to serve justice to the murders of Malenoa. For his friend, his family, for Levan, and for her unhatched egg; the hope, and now only future, for the Draconias.

…

Another four hundred years had passed, and Lilia’s dreams were still black and white. And where he may have had been bitter in his younger years, he no longer held that resentment. Yes, he still questioned why he had not received a soul match, but he had accepted that it was simply not to be. Besides, he now had more meaning in his life. He had been many things in his life; a friend, a soldier, an advisor, and now, a father. The silver haired baby that he had found years ago, Silver, was everything Lilia could ever really ask for. He loved Malleus, but not to the same degree as Silver; Malleus was the heir to the throne above all else.

Lilia was content with how things currently were, happy even. He had found his purpose.

“Hmm, this school year should prove interesting,” he hummed to himself. The ceremony was today, and it proved to be a most interesting one at that. He did wonder what the newcomer, the one not suitable to any dorm, would do. They didn’t seem like the type to just leave things alone. He shook his head though, and made himself comfortable in his bed, turning in for the night.

He was in the meadow of his youth again, but it was now overgrown. The vines from the rose thicket choking out all of the other flowers and grasses. And all but one rose was withered away. And this single rose was pink. Lilia could see colour, and the pink bled into the rest of the dream, casting everything in a rose-tinted light.

After seven hundred years, the Thorn Fairy had finally answered his call. And everything was pink. “After all this time, now you have decided they can enter my life,” he whispered, looking directly at the rose.

If he were younger, he would have been overjoyed, but Lilia knew that he did not have the commodity of time at his side. Despite the fae’s long lifespan, he was old, and his magic reservoir was running low. And the bitterness that he had since forgotten reappeared. “Why would you put them through this?”

He turned on his heel, but stopped. At the edge of the meadow was his soul match, he could not make out their face, appearance, nor their voice, but he knew it was them. “You should leave.” His words were not spoken, but were instead written in the air in glowing pink letters. But instead of turning around and leaving, they took a step forward, and then another, before coming to rest in front of Lilia.

“Who are you,” their words were written in pink letters, just like his. And even though he could not see their face, he could distinctly tell they wore an expression of confusion. “And why is everything pink?”

Lilia woke up to the sounds of his alarm going off, ripping him out of the dream. Why is everything pink? His soul match didn’t know what the colour ment, which could only mean one thing; his match was not fae. His soul match was mortal. And that revelation made a lump form in his throat.

He was worried about his soul match outliving him, that the possibility that he would outlive them never crossed his mind. Why had the Thorn Fairy chosen them? Why did she gift him an ending that would end in heartbreak?

…

Ever since finding yourself in Twisted Wonderland you started keeping a dream journal. Alongside the weird, and sometimes downright disturbing, dreams about future overblots, you had rose-tinted ones with a stranger in them. But they kept their distance. And you hadn’t found any answers for them.

“Human!” The sharp shout from Sebek tore you away from your thoughts, as the first-year student was incredibly… loud. “Do you know how rude it is to ignore somebody when they are talking?! Did you not sleep last night?!”

In the few months that you’ve been stuck here, you came to call the abrasive Diasomnia student a reluctant friend. He may be prickly, but it was his own way of showing that he cared… in his own roundabout way which usually involved yelling and non-intentional insults.

Did you not sleep last night?! Yes, but it was anything but restful.

You were in the midst of a battlefield, which was now long over. The only evidence being the hollow armour of warriors long fallen. And, as in all of your dreams, there were roses everywhere. Their thorny vines creating a wall, trapping you and the pink stranger in together.

This wasn’t your dream, it was their’s… or more like a memory? It was all way too centred in reality, in mourning and loss, to be a dream. What did they live through?

“What happened here?” Your words floated gently in the air and only disappeared when the stranger noticed them.

They picked up a broken spear and held it gently in their grasp. “What do you think? War. War is what happened here.” Their words floated in front of you, and you could see the weight of them on their shoulders. “The dreams of many died here, the only thing remaining of them being the armour that was supposed to protect them.”

What the hell have they lived through? “... were you there?”

The dream shifted, no longer were you standing on a long forgotten battlefield, now reclaimed by nature, but you were now sitting in a dark castle. Not even the pink hue over everything could brighten it.

The stranger went up the stairs. Go away, can you not tell I am not the best person for you? Our story will only end in hurt. But they said none of that, continuing to go up the long winding staircase. “Did you hear me? I asked you if you were there!” You yelled after them, following them up the spiralling staircase until the both of you came to a halt in front of a large wooden door, scorched at the bottom.

“Yes,” the words floated in your face before fading away. “I was there… I led the battle. I led them to death.”

I led them to death. You were sweating buckets, but before you knew what you were doing you wrote down a note in your dream journal

Roses. Thorns. Battle. Magic. War. You had no real idea what it all meant, but it was somewhere to start. A step in the direction of figuring what it all meant

“No,” you said, avoiding Sebek’s concerned gaze, “I didn’t sleep well… not at all.” You hadn’t slept soundly in weeks. You hadn’t had a pleasant dream since you woke up here. “Nightmares,” you whispered, “night after night. And a stranger, the same stranger, who is avoiding me.”

Sebek’s face paled, and he placed his hand on your shoulder. “Human,” his voice was now quiet, guarded. He led you to a classroom and made sure no one was around. “Are these dreams a certain colour? Do words float in the air? Can you not make out their face?” Even though this was the quietest that he has spoken, it was also the most serious Sebek had been with you.

You nodded your head, “All of that, yes. How did you know?” Your brows pinched, and you let out a deep sigh. “Sebek, if you know something, please, just tell me.”

Sebek was fighting a war in his head; tell the truth to you, or keep the fae soul match a secret. But the dark bags under your eyes told him enough. “You have a soul match, and they are fae. I’m… sorry.”

The bell rang and he was off to his next class, leaving you alone with this world altering information. I have a soul match? They’re fae? … why did he look so sad for me?

…

Lilia noticed something off about Sebek the moment he walked, or rather stormed, to the confines of his room. So, he followed, gently knocking at the door, waiting for an answer.

“May I come in?”

He heard Sebek scramble up and open the door. “Of course, Lilia-sama!” He was just like his grandfather; loud, a bit too stiff for his own good, but loyal, almost to a fault.

Lilia walked over to the bed, and patted the spot beside him. “Come, sit. You seem to be carrying quite the burden.” He had noticed Sebek’s odd behaviour all day, and it wasn’t like him to do so. “Come now, out with it.”

Sebek picked at a loose thread on his bedding, and massaged his temple. “It’s about soul matches.”

Lilia felt the lump in his throat form again. “What about them? They are a blessing from the Thorn Fairy herself. Who are we to question her decision-”

“A human disclosed that they have a soul match, a fae soul match. And I told them that. I broke the oath to not tell anyone!” Sebek clenched his fists and looked down at the floor. “They aren’t even my soul match, and I told them!”

Lilia placed his hand on Sebek’s back, and started patting him on the back. A gesture that meant everything was going to be okay. “Well,” a breathy chuckle escaped his lips, a soft smile on his face, “they deserve to know what is ahead of them, do they not?”

Like I have been trying to tell mine, but they still have not left it alone. They keep on showing up, night after night.

Sebek seemed to calm down, but there was still a lot weighing heavy in his mind. “It’s not my place to talk. It is for them, and their match to decide. But,” he took a deep breath, and that familiar intensity in his eyes was back, “I can’t help but worry.”

Lilia recognized the look in his pseudo-adopted son’s eyes, it all too well reflected the look Baul would get before battle. And this was Sebek, concerned for a human, which would only mean one thing; whoever they were, they were a friend of his. And that narrowed everything down. Time to do some sleuthing of my own. “They’re strong, most likely stubborn. They shall be fine,” his voice was light, trying to brighten the atmosphere of the room. “It’s late, you should really get some rest.”

With that, Lilia walked out of the room and softly closed the door. There was something that he needed to do tonight, in his dream.

…

This dream was different from all the others. There were no signs of the thorny brambles of roses. There were no signs of war. No, instead Lilia found himself in the courtyard of Night Raven College, the sun high overhead and a slight breeze playing with loose leaves. This wasn’t his dream; it was his soul match’s. And you were sitting under a tree, looking up at the sky, just watching the clouds pass by.

“This is a nice change of pace,” the pink words drifted slowly in the wind. “Better than nightmares and bad memories.”

Lilia felt a twinge of guilt. Better than nightmares and bad memories. Those were his doing. And instead of him being subjected to your nightmares and memories that you would rather forget, the both of them were here, in a quiet moment in time. There was no war, there was no loss. There was only you and Lilia, and an easy feeling. “You are too kind,” he sighed. Thank you. That is what he meant.

You hummed, “I can’t control my dreams, so it’s really just a fluke.” You sighed and rested your head against the tree, closing your eyes and enjoying the filtered sunlight. “I’m just happy it’s a pleasant one.”

“As am I,” he took a seat next to you and looked up to the sky, watching the clouds aimlessly pass by. I need to tell them. “It is cruel, what the Thorn Fairy has done to you. Gifting you a fae soul match.”

You turned your head towards him. Even though you couldn’t truly see who they were, you could see that they carried a lot on their shoulders. You didn’t say anything though, but instead offered your silence as an indicator for him to continue.

“How much do you know about soul matches?” It is their and their soul match’s decision. He wanted to tell them everything, so that they could decide for themself if they wanted him in their life.

You sighed. So now they decide to tell me? “Pretty much nothin’. Just the basics; soul matches exist, which I can kinda infer what it means, they’re gifted by the Thorn Fairy, and you’re fae. I have found absolutely nothing that even talks about the subject, and nobody but my one friend has mentioned it.”

Nobody but my one friend has mentioned it. Were they friends with Sebek? That would narrow down everything drastically, and would also explain why they were relaxing at Night Raven College in their dream. Lilia knew them. They were already closer than he ever thought.

“So, please,” you turned to look at the stranger, your soul match, eyes gleaming gently. “Tell me, tell me everything.”

So he did, he and you sat under the tree for the entirety of the dream, discussing what soul matches were, the different forms and bonds they come in, and what you could expect from this.

I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam.

…

Ever since that dream from a few days ago, you have noticed your soul match get more playful and teasing in your dreams. They no longer held you at a distance, it was a drastic but welcomed change. The cold was gone, and instead there was warmth. But something still felt off. With everything that has happened, with seeing each other's dreams and memories, you still didn’t know who they were. And everytime you tried to tell them your name, the words didn’t form. It was annoying.

“Something on your mind, Prefect,” a familiar teasing voice chuckled from behind you. Lilia shot you a teasing smile, eyes twinkling with mischief. He used to startle you whenever he decided to sneak up on you, but you grew accustomed to his playful nature.

You shot him a look, but then shook your head and chuckled. “Just thinking is all. What about you?” You had noticed that Lilia had gotten more lively, the dark cloud that seemed to hang around him for the past few weeks had seemed to vanish. “You seem to be in a more chipper mood,” you chuckled.

He gave you a quiet chortle, the only real evidence of it being the subtle movement of his shoulders and the quiet exhale from his lips. His magenta eyes gleamed softly in the dim lighting of the hallway. They were familiar, but you could have sworn that you had seen them somewhere before, but the answer was avoiding you.

“Just a lot has happened is all, and it brought a surprise with it.” Lilia was cryptic, but it was a part of his odd charm. A mix of something old beyond your years, and a more youthful impishness. It was endearing.

He reminded you of somebody, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it. “Fine then, old man, keep your secrets. One day I’ll make you spill.”

The two of you exploded with laughter, and Lilia patted you on the shoulder. “Maybe someday. I’ll be looking forward to it, Prefect.” He waved you goodbye as he made his way to his next class. Leaving you alone in the hallway.

You hummed to yourself as you made your way to your next class, History of Magic, where Trein was preparing on his lecture to tell the first years about the fae-human wars. Something that you had already witnessed the aftermath of, despite not knowing it at the time. After all, that’s what that one dream was about; the one of the meadow, the rose briars, and the rusting armour laying half buried in the earth. But you didn’t know the true horrors of war, and your soul match made sure that you would never have to witness what he had.

…

You were back in the meadow, in the middle of the fray. No longer were the rusted armours and broken weapons half buried, their wielders were alive again, and you were caught in the middle of it. The sky was an angry shade of pink, and thunder rumbled ominous in the distance… nope that was cannon fire.

Everything was absolute chaos, and you were thankful that nothing could harm you in the dreams, but that didn’t make you flinch any less whenever a ghost arrow flied through the air. Or maybe it would be more accurate to call you the ghost. You weren’t going to dwell on that though, since you didn’t want to push your luck. Something you seemed to be in short supply of.

You saw a flash in front of you, and a bat-masked figure was in front of you, glowing red eyes staring at you, before running back into the battle. Even though this was a dream, you could have sworn that they saw you. And then you were ripped away from the battle ground, being pulled up by your underarms. Looking up you saw the fuzzy and distorted visage of your soul match, pulling you away from danger.

“What were you doing?!” They snapped at you. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you could infer their tone and emotion from their body language and you know, hauling your ass away from danger.

You patted their forearm, and looked back down to the flashes of magic and metal gleaming in the waning light of the setting sun. “Were you here? This is more than a dream, isn’t it? This is a memory.”

Dreams are often a flight of fancy, but for Lilia, and for you, they were more than randomly concocted scenarios played out by the sleeping mind. These dreams held truth, the dreams were memories. And this memory showed the most impactful one.

“How many?”

That statement could mean so many things. It could mean how many battles. How many lives were lost. How many lives had he taken. “Too many to count,” is what he decided on saying. It was true though, Lilia had lost count of how many times he had done all of those things. “You must think of me as cruel,” a sad yet harsh laugh left his mouth, and he looked down at you. “A monster.”

You looked back. There was sadness in your match’s eyes, but also a tiredness. “I don’t think you’re a monster, or cruel though.”

Lilia looked into your eyes. You were being honest, sincere, and your eyes showed that. They were the only part of you that he could clearly make out. They were familiar, they were warm. “I am down there though, leading the assault… against the humans.” Against you.

“The past is the past. What is done, is done. We can’t change that.” Leading the assault… didn’t Professor Trein talk about the wars today? “I won’t judge you based on your past, especially if you’re super old which I know pretty well that your are, gramps. But you can’t change it. It has left its scars, but what matters most is the present and what lies ahead.”

You were right, and Lilia felt foolish to let that small part of himself, the insecurity of not being wanted, fester. “I’m the old one? You sound far more wiser than your years… you whippersnapper.”

The battle faded away, and the two of you floated down to the meadow. It had morphed, morphed back into the meadow of Lilia’s youth; filled with wildflowers, grasses, and the rose thicket was in full bloom. And if you listened close enough, you could hear the laughter of a young girl in the breeze as a raven flew overhead.

…

Lilia needed to find you. Your dreams were filled with premonitions, and they sat heavy in his mind at the repercussions they could make. They sent off alarm bells in his mind. Lilia was in a tizzy. I have to find them.

His magic was running out, and he knew that his lifespan had shortened drastically. He would be lucky to live another sixty or seventy years, which was nothing in the eyes of many fae. But that was a human lifetime. A lifetime that could be spent with not just Silver and Sebek, but you. He wanted to find you. He didn’t care what form your soul match bond took; be it like the relationship of family, of friends, or of lovers. He wanted to find you, needed to find you.

I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. Those eyes, they were the only part of you that he could ever make out. Eyes filled with mischief, responsibility, curiosity, and kindness. He knew those eyes. They were your eyes, the Ramshackle Prefect’s eyes. How could I be so blind?

It made all too much sense. The dreams had only started when you showed up. He felt drawn to you, like a moth to flame. It made sense that you would be the human that had made Sebek drop his guard and tell a human about fae soul matches. It made all of the sense in the world. And it had taken until now for him to realise. Perhaps he really was an ‘old man’ and already going senile like you joked, both in and out of the dreams.

That is how he came to find himself at your front door, in the middle of the night, still wearing his hot pink and neon green pyjamas. All because of the one dream, the most recent dream of overblot, and his own realisation of who you truly were. So he knocked three times, and waited for you to come down.

You groaned awake, the faint memory of the dream still weighing heavy on your mind. I can never catch a break, huh? I swear if it’s Ace I’m going to drop kick him. You begrudgingly made your way to the front door, and opened it right as a yawn escaped your mouth. “Lilia?”

What was Lilia doing at your front door? It was like two in the morning… although his bat print pyjamas were pretty great. Was that ‘Bat-tastic’ written in swirly font? Where in Twisted Wonderland had he found that?

“What are you doing here?” Was what you said instead.

“Do you recognize me,” he whispered, taking your hands in his, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

Recognize you? “Your Lilia, of course I recognize you, old man.”

He looked at you, magenta eyes practically glowing in the dark. Familiar magenta eyes. Eyes that held such familiar a gleam… as if you had seen them countless times in your dreams, tinted a paler shade of the colour. “Prefect, have we met before? I could have sworn that I met you… once upon a dream?”

It all made sense. It all made sense. The coldness at first, the memories of war, the playfulness. Why everything was pink. Your match, the perceived stranger, was no stranger at all. They were Lilia.

“So you’re them,” you said softly. “We’re soul matches?”

He shot you a playful wink, “It would seem so. And I’m happy that you are them, and they, you.”

All of those centuries spent alone, wondering why the Thorn Fairy had not granted him the blessing of having a soul match, and then the confusion of finally receiving one after years of nothing, now had an answer. It was you, and Lilia knew that the seven hundred years may have been lonely, but whatever time he had left, he would be more than happy to spend with you.

Fin!

Author's Note; Enjoy this word vomit. If you want to read more, do check out my masterlist.

Tags; @xxoomiii @eynnwwyjth @twistwonderlanddevotee @savanaclaw1996 @identity-theft-101

#twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x gn reader #general vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #twst soulmate au #i had to stop myself from making reader say “cowabummer dude” to lilia #chapter 7 spoilers #wanted to try and explore different parts of lilia #also i want that bat-tastic shirt i know his ass would own one #always nervous posting diasomnia content since uhhhhhh ovo; y'all scare me #enjoy your gilf though #started august 5 ended august 9 2023 #putting my start and end dates in the tags for my own uses #sebek is next and his story SHOULD be more humorous and fluffy #should being the key word; idk what my brain is going to come up with yet #idc if it's overused; i am using the shared dream trope and running with it #if you see grammar mistakes shhhh; no you don't #soul match au #*folds my hands and judges engagement* this decides your future #idk what compelled me to include sebek in this but i did #the series is almost done YIPPEE!!!!

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knight-a3 · 2 months

Text

This is the last of my fnaf backlog stuff for now. I'd need to scour some older sketchbooks for more. Although I've been messing with colors, so that might be something I could share.

So I wanted to try my hand at redesigning some fnaf characters. I just didn't like how hideous they were for something that should be designed to be endearing to kids.

Details under the read more to avoid clutter.

My mom saw me draw Ballora once(not knowing it's fnaf), and asked me to draw more for her. So these are a couple of the ones she requested. I'm not sure why she was so fixated on multiple ballerina pictures. Anyway, I didn't like how...scantily clad... Ballora looked. So I gave her a more family friendly outfit.

I don't quite like the lore surrounding Ennard, so I just gave him his own design, rather than be an amalgamation of other animatronics. Molten Freddy/the Blob/Tangle can fill that role without Ennard. I've been workshopping an idea where each member of the Afton family has an animatronic that is meant to replace them in some twisted fantasy William concocted, via some type of soul stealing/remnant/haunting situation. Ennard is basically hunting for Mike specifically.

The puppet was a hard one to pin down. I liked multiple different design option. Until I just went with multiple. There's the Marionette, the Mannequin, and Poppet. All variations of the puppet. They gave me pierrot clown vibes, due to the black/white color scheme.

Ballora has four minireenas, each themed after an emotion. Joy, Gloom, Fury, and Awe. I figured it would give them more personality than they have in-game.

I've changed Circus Baby's name to Circee, because I don't like her canon name. She also seemed underdressed, so I gave her a more harlequin inspired look. I repurposed Balloon Boy, DD, and JJ to be her bidy babs for the sake of streamlining. It's a more efficient use of resources. I figured it was only fair that they all got actual names too.

Trying to keep marketing in mind, I figured it would make sense for BB to be "the boy", DD to be "the girl", and didn't want JJ to upset that balance and left JJ ambiguous. Not necessarily even nonbinary. Just whatever gender any individual deems fit. Poppet is actually the same way. They're just robots. FazEnt isn't committing to anything.

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laurashapiro-noreally · 22 days

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Looking for something to read?

Oh look, it's another recs post! This time I'm featuring two stories per author. These are writers I always make time for, whose work stands out as unusually hot, clever, funny, or smart -- sometimes all of the above.

I'm gonna start you out strong with two by @werpiper: After Hours takes Aziraphale and Crowley to the baths after their oyster supper, and all sorts of interesting pleasures are there for our angel to sample. Piper's Crowley is one of my favorites: always evaluating the situation, not quite aware of what his own heart is doing but feeling it anyway.

Fitting In is a new story, still a WIP, but I am utterly tantalized by Muriel's first taste of love -- and tea. This is already rich in detail, soft and fragrant, and I can hardly wait for the action to get going in earnest. The pairing seems surprising but when you think about it for ten seconds of course it makes sense. Sex workers help the curious, the awkward, and the inexperienced every day, bless them.

If you enjoy these, check out @werpiper's back catalog -- they have done a ton of ineffables-through-the-ages, and their series Miracles and Heresy is worth many delightful hours of your time.

I love what @copperplatebeech has been doing lately:

He's Not My Friend is a T-rated story that explores Aziraphale's constant refusal to acknowledge his relationship with Crowley, and Crowley's mirror of that, and how things glacially shift over time. It is subtle and yet specific, it will make you ache and smile.

All Of The Above, also T-rated, is a warm and fuzzy alternative to that, a hilarious celebration of true friendship that made me laugh out loud and still got me right in the feels.

@copperplatebeech can do everything, from quiet, gentle, and romantic to devastating plotty AUs to extraordinarily horny established relationship to absolutely ridiculous humor. Do dive in if you haven't already.

Next up, @cumaeansibyl, master of kink:

better living through technology manages to shove everything I want in a dirty story into less than three thousand words: uptight Aziraphale reduced to sodden wreck, Crowley gleefully showing him what he's been missing, character-driven erotics, and exceptionally funny dialogue.

indulgentiam peccatorum nostrorum is somehow all that and more, turning the "I was wrong" dance into a kink (something I can't get enough of, recs welcome). This one is post-Bastille so it is extra-juicy. Mind the tags!

@cumaeansibyl has a gift for established relationship one-shots, which readers of mine will know are my entire jam. They also have a mind-meltingly hot inverse!omens AU that features different variations of angelic/demonic Crowleys and Aziraphales for our ineffables to play with.

A new-to-me author, Calico, has me hanging by a thread with their Ineffable Romans series. If you want to remember that your ineffables aren't human, that they are inordinately clever but very stupid, that the feelings they have for each other are truly beyond what anyone alive has ever felt, Calico may be the writer for you. This stuff is deep. Also hot af.

Sub Rosa reads like a nasty shag at Petronius', but there's so much more going on here. It is Extremely Queer, driven by power dynamics, and Crowley is fully demonic here and absolutely in control...or is he?

The Intemperance of Liber Pater continues on this theme, with dialogue-driven smut that reads less like a seduction than an inevitability. There's another story in this series, unfinished, and I can't wait to see what happens next.

Last but not least: two short pieces by @ineffabildaddy. I stumbled on their stories just this week and I absolutely love their approach, which I've not seen done quite this way before.

take me as your wife has a tight first-person perspective as Crowley meets Aziraphale for a meal and imagines (or is it his imagination?) that Aziraphale is suggesting Certain Things about how they might occupy themselves later. Indeed, is he suggesting even more? Something about their relationship? Or is it all in Crowley's head?

Only in Dreams is kind of a companion piece, from Aziraphale's point of view -- though hundreds of years later. This one's set after the events of S2 and although just as romantic as take me as your wife, it also offers an ineffable take on the ol' glory hole concept. Just in case you thought I was getting soft. 😏

@ineffabildaddy has a whole series of poems and ficlets like these and I can't wait to explore them all.

#good omens #fic recs #good omens fic recs #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #rare pair #muriel

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naddiesflower · 1 year

Note

hi there, may i request hcs w dabi, aizawa & toga w a gn s/o whos very flirty and talkstive but when someone flirts back their brain just shuts down and they instantly become a flustered mess?🤭

*rises from the dead and drops this very very late*

Dabi

I feel like Dabi wouldn’t flirt back immediately

But he wouldn’t outright ignore you

if anything he would entertain your flirting

You would flirt with him any chance you had

“Hey, aside from being good looking, what do you do for a living?”

This makes Dabi huff out a small laugh

“Oh you know, just some rookie villain stuff.”

There was one time you had decided to flirt with him while running away from some heroes

“Don’t you ever get tired from running through my mind all day?”

“What i’m tired of is these losers chasing us.”

One day Dabi decides to flirt back just because

You had said something (he wasn’t sure what cuz he would tune you out sometimes)

“You sure are chatty, im sure i can think of a better way we can put that mouth to use.”

……

Immediate brain short circuit

You suddenly don’t know how to function

Your stuttering is intelligible

And you can feel heat rising to your face

Dabi’s lazy smile stretches into a sinister one

“No way.”

ABORT ABORT ABORT

“Uh…well see you later Dabi-”

Oh wow and now there’s a hand planted to wall next to you

“Now hold up, where did all that bravado go?”

His face seems just a tad bit too close to yours

“My uh- the um you see, i ah-”

Dabi just busts out laughing after this

Which thankfully gives you the time to flee

You are no longer safe around this man anymore tho

It is now Dabi who is initiating the flirting

You shall now deal with the actions of your consequences

Aizawa

This guy i just know would not flirt back

It was you mostly flirting with the dumbest pick up lines

Aizawa mostly rolls his eyes

But you mostly flirt during hero work

Cuz that’s when you bump into each other more often than not

And that’s when Aizawa doesn’t roll his eyes

But responds with variation of

“Focus!”

“We have no time for this.”

Or “must i be the one to face this type of torture?”

This goes on for the longest time

But you never tire from teasing Aizawa

Aizawa also doesn’t make any big fuss about trying to stop you

He kinda secretly looks forward to you bothering him

One day after taking down a villain he compliments you

“You did a great job taking down that villain, your form was especially great.”

Now mind you this was a small compliment

A very tame compliment

You stop on the spot

You suddenly don’t know how to work your legs

Aizawa is confused

After a concerned Aizawa makes sure you’re okay

The rest of the day goes on normally

Though Aizawa does come to a conclusion that he tests out the next time you bump into each other

“Good job, you looked great out there.”

Oh man do your knees go weak and you’re a babbling fool at this point

“Oh uh, y-yeah, i mean- thanks…”

From now on when you try flirting with him, Aizawa fires back with actually pretty sweet compliments

Toga

You are in trouble with her from the start

Would immediately flirt back

But she doesn’t notice this cuz that’s just the way she is

If anything she’s the one who approaches you first and just starts complimenting you left and right

“Your eyes are so pretty!”

“Can I have some of your blood?”

Most people would be like wtf

But in your mind like

“You want my blood?” 🥺👉👈

Obviously you don’t voice that out loud cuz you quite literally can’t

You kinda look like a fish out of water with the way ur trying to utter a single word out

You can almost never get a word out around her cuz she’s bubbly and just as talkative as you if not more

Which somehow leads to you making it a goal to at least not be a blabbering fool around her

It’s an ongoing challange that you can never seem to accomplish

The most you were able to get out around her was one (1) small compliment

Which didn’t phase you at first because you had genuinely meant it

“Ah, Himiko you have a really cute smile.”

She gets all starry eyes and blushy

But you don’t notice cuz you're mentally celebrating not acting a fool around her

However, that’s short-lived as soon as she wraps herself around your arms and drags you somewhere around the hideout while you’re mentally short circuiting

#mha x you #mha x reader #mha scenarios #mha imagines #dabi scenarios #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #dabi imagine #aizawa imagine #aizawa x reader #himiko toga x reader #toga x reader #toga himiko

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s1mpactafterhours · 1 year

Text

ok so i did a variation of this over on the sfw genshin main BUT i also wanted to make a filthy version too bc like my brain's been wandering- but anyway.. hear me out 🗣👏🏻

al-haitham coming home and barging into his housemate's room to tell him something or ask about something (etc etc) and accidentally walking in on kaveh absolutely plowing you, like you're both going at it hard until you suddenly hear the door open. (kaveh had assured you he wasn't supposed to be home until much, much later!) and so you're just desperately trying to cover up or hide or something, anything- but kaveh's noticed the way al-haitham looks at you, even if the man himself has no idea yet, so he just keeps going at it, witness be damned. al-haitham makes some offhand remark about how neither of you have any decency, but if he weren't wearing those damned headphone looking contraptions you'd be able to see just how red his ears were.

this is unfortunately how he begins to come to terms with his attraction to you, and unknowingly begins his learnings of the ways of heartache. kaveh pays this no mind, feeling that he's finally got the upper hand on his smart ass, seemingly unshakeable housemate. he's on a mission to make you scream his name, as many times as possible, as loud as possible. at some point, though neither of you hear it, al-haitham just ends up slamming the door on his way out, leaving to go to the library or literally anywhere else.... but not before guiltily rubbing one out. you two provided the perfect background noises he never knew he needed, but more importantly, it was your moans that were driving him insane. how would you sound screaming out his name all night long instead?

so off he goes to busy himself with work, so much work, so much that he ends up taking on extra work just to distract himself from the honeymoon phase you're both in, and the way kaveh just can't seem to stop showing you off in front of him. he can already tell the latter is doing so on purpose, but he refuses to let the blonde get the better of him. you're aware that something is going on, but attribute it to their weird relationship and how they're just always fighting.. though it has been awfully quiet lately, and you're starting to get suspicious. kaveh is quick to assure you that al-haitham is just very busy with work, and he's even quicker to get handsy with you. cuddles while he works on his projects, hands on across your shoulders or thighs at dinner, all the nights you two fuck your stress out before collapsing together in bed.. you're far too entranced by your seemingly sickly sweet lover to see through the haze, but it's always harder to think straight when you're getting your back blown out (or blowing him out-) ..and so, you don't.

and even as al-haitham has time to get himself back together, he can't help but wonder if maybe things would have turned out differently had he been more aware of his own feelings. if he had asked you out first, would that be how the both of you would be now? or had you always only had eyes for kaveh? the questions that used to keep him up at night become mindless chatter as he tries (and fails) to block you both out on the other side of unfortunately thin walls. but life goes on, and so does your relationship, and before you all know it, you're making plans to move in together, to share your lives together, and suddenly al-haitham finally knows what loneliness feels like.. all alone in a house that used to house shenanigans for three. he's not sure if he'll bother looking for a new roommate now that he's been promoted, but sometimes he can't help but wish he could share the news with you both, and how he misses your antics and smile and.... he belatedly begins to realize he misses kaveh too. in which a new set of questions unlocks thoughts he'd never even considered... had he harbored feelings for you all this time, or was he instead projecting because he was jealous... and falling in love with his own roommate all this time?

#that ending was NOT supposed to happen but i liked the plot twist of him being so confused he didn't know who he liked anymore ifk #kinda just wrote all this rambling mess with no planning so im sorry for how sh #for how unorganized it is* ;;#genshin angst #genshin smut #genshin drabbles #genshin blurb #genshin nsft #kaveh x reader #al haitham x reader #ft hints of kavehtham (?)#my post #aerin.writings #aerin.txt #aerinposting #s1mpactafterhours #kaveh smut #...technically #......ironic how i wrote this bc i want that twink obliterated (and i want to do the obliterating <3)#this little brat istg..#sad he wasn't in the next drip marketing but fingers crossed for next update;;; at least we'll be getting dehya (& len- i mean mika lol)#corrected papers to projects bc i briefly forgot kaveh was an architect whoops-#was so used to doing nothing but papers when i was in school tbh. force of habit. and more await me come grad school hhdhfhf #best wishes to everyone and their studies fr #also can't wait for playable kaveh and more lore drops ✨#edit: some minor proofreading and corrections. added maybe a sentence or two but nothing major tbh #no one: al haitham: *the photo tearing scene; fake ass smile; and crying his eyes out after the wedding from kwill's please don't mv*#x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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thelucyverse · 7 months

Text

Keep fandoms alive, comment on more fanfics!

The do‘s and don’ts of fic reviews

Because a friend told me she never knows what to write and then never comments, but wants to learn how to do better, I thought I’d compile a list, and maybe it will help someone else as well!

As always, this is unofficial and just from my personal experience writing and reading fic, and talking with other fic authors.

My posts on beta reading | ao3 bookmarks

What to comment

Honestly, authors love friendly comments, no matter how small. Here are some ideas for short comments you can write to pretty much any fic you enjoyed:

I loved it!

Great fic!

Thanks for writing this!

Thanks for sharing your fic with the fandom :)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 10/10 perfection

So happy I found this!

Reading this made my day

I had fun reading this

You’re a great writer!

Love your writing style

<3<3<3

Amazing!

Kudos!

If you want to write something a bit longer, you can for example

Tell the author where you have been reading the fic or what you were doing while reading it

Tell the author what you should have been doing instead of reading fanfic (and that it was worth it to read the fic)

Copy a passage (or several) from the fic you particularly enjoyed

Did the author write a note at the end or beginning of the fic? Maybe even ask a question? Sometimes you can reply to author’s notes in your comment

How did the fic make you feel? Happy, made you cry, made you laugh, made you jealous of a character, or made you want to punch an antagonistic character’s nose in? Write it in the comment!

Is it your first fic in a fandom or with a ship? Your favorite fic in a fandom, or with a specific character? Did you read it in one go? Did you savour it slowly reading over days or weeks? Have you enjoyed every update of a multi-chapter? Do you wish you could read it again for the first time? Write anything you want to let the author know about your reading experience!

Is there a character you particularly enjoyed in that fic/chapter? Tell the author you think they wrote xy character really well!

You can always start or finish your comment with one of the suggestions from the short comments to make sure the author knows you liked it :)

If you really don’t know what to write, or are reading fic in a language not your own (though authors usually don’t mind you commenting in your native language) and aren’t comfortable commenting in either language, you can also leave emojis as comments, for example variations of:

for any fics:❤️💕💜💗💞💓💖💟🤩😍🥰

for humor fics: 😂😆🤣🤪💯

for shippy fics/getting together: 🎉💖🥳💋💘💏👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨💑👩‍❤️‍👩👨‍❤️‍👨🫶

for angst or hurt no comort: 🥹😭🤯😱🫣😢💔❣️❤️‍🩹🖤 maybe still include a ❤️heart in there so the author can be sure you still liked it!

for smut/pwp: ❤️‍🔥💯🫣😋🤩🥵😈🤯🫦

There are even some stickers you can comment by copying the html! A few tumblr posts with stickers to copy can be found here & here!

Don’ts

There isn’t much you can do wrong when writing comments on fic, but there are a few things you should keep in mind:

don’t criticize (unless negative critics/what they can do better has been specifically asked for by the author, and then stick to the kind of criticism asked for, and best try to include something positive too to soften the blow)

don’t demand more/ask for updates - you can tell the author you’d read it if they wrote more, but don’t put pressure on them, you don’t know what’s happening in their lives right now and for what reason new entries might have slowed down, and they don’t owe you regular or any updates!

don’t tell them what to write (unless the author is taking prompts, and in most cases the comment section is not the right place for prompts, check what the author specified)

Remember: Fan fiction are free, from fans for fans, so etiquette is a bit different than in the Amazon reviews of books you paid good money for! Fic authors don’t have to cater to you, just enjoy that there are fics shared with the fandom :) If you don’t like something, or don’t like a part of something, either close the tab or quietly ignore the issue and just enjoy the parts you do like.

And in general, to end this on a positive note:

Yes, you can comment on older fanfics!

Yes, comment on several fics in a row if you’re reading through fics by one author!

Yes, comment on as many chapters of the same fic as you like!

Yes, you can make art for the fic and tell the author about it!

Yes, absolutely tell the author if you’re still thinking about a fic hours/days/years… after reading it!

Yes, send authors asks on tumblr/other sites talking about how you love their fics, if they link these sites in the author’s notes! (But also comment on Ao3)

Yes, you can comment/review even if you don’t have an account (at least on Ao3 and ffnet)!

Yes, please let the author know if you’re reading a fic for a second time, even if you just write ‘re-read kudos!’

The best comments are also written directly on the site the fanfiction got posted on (so usually ao3/ffnet and not tumblr/discord), both because it makes the note count higher, and because then the comment won’t quickly get buried under unrelated messages or posts.

If you want to leave long comments about different parts of a fic or chapter, you can also make use of the floating Ao3 comment box! It allows you to type your comment while you're still reading, without having to leave the page!

Some more kinds of comments on another post

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visenyaism · 21 days

Note

If the King Visenya Dance ends with Rhaenyra on the throne, who’s crowned after her? Just curious no worries if you haven’t thought about her?

Does Aegon IV still exist since Viserys was sent to Lys?

no i have a outline for this very silly conflict. buckle up under the readmore this is barely hinged and deeply unserious

so.

- Queen Rhaena (the lesbian) dies, names Saera as her successor at the last minute which no one wants to honor.

- Starts with Rhaenys on dragonstone, Baelon in KL, and Saera in Volantis headed to KL.

- Baelon still gets appendicitis and dies pretty early but everyone thinks it’s some kind of treachery.

- The war officially starts when Damon Targaryen runs into Corlys at Riverrun, trying to negotiate a betrothal between his daughter and some Muppet to back Rhaenys for the throne. fresh off of losing his father and currently consolidating support for his brother, Daemon wants someone to blame and kills Corlys.

- Daemon and Aegon (Viserys I) try to jump Rhaenys at Rook’s Rest, but she gets her way out of the trap and manages to take down Aegon’s dragon and severely injure him in the process. Aegon goes back to KL to rule and protect his daughter Rhaenyra, Daemon spends the rest of the time flying around the riverlands and lighting stuff on fire.

- while all of this is happening, there’s also an extended naval conflict between the Targannister faction, which exists, Viserra has a dragon(this is my mind palace i make the rules) and the Saera chaos faction. Two battles there:

1. combined Greyjoy/Triarchy chaos faction, almost successfully take Casterly Rock while Viserra is down by the gullet and little Jaeson (lol) tries to flee on his dragon at which point Saera’s daughter Aerea takes him down. However he just barely survives even though he loses his dragon, and the last man ended up killing Aerea, who is pinned down in enemy territory in the keep.

2. While trying to break the Triarchy blockade of the Gullet for her nephew who holds King’s Landing, Viserra and Saera have a dragon fight. Balerion is old and slow and unwieldy: takes a few scorpion bolts meant for Vermithor and goes down. Viserra and a severely injured Vermithor go down as well, some historians argue she was trying to save her drowning sister. Who knows.

- With both other factions, looking pretty bad, Rhaenys takes King’s Landing: Aegon (Viserys I) dies here, but his 10-year-old daughter Rhaenyra is able to see the city on her dragon. However, Syraxis very young at the time and takes a few hits which get infected and dies right after they makes it to the Eyrie.

- Daemon and Rhaenys kill each other over the gods eye on their parents’ dragons.

- Some variation of the storming of the dragonpit happens. Laenor and Laena successfully flee to Dragonstone, but Silverwing and Seasmoke do not :(

- No longer worried about being burned by Daemon. The Riverlands, Crownlands, and Stormlands forces are able to muster enough troops to actually get to Kings Landing and restore order.

- The war ends when they put Laenor on the throne. it ends with the wedding of Laenor and Rhaenyra to create some form of stability after everything.

- They have three kids “together.” Baela the Bdefiant, future mother of Daena Darksister, Jakey who dies in dorne with cregan stark, and Joffrey the religious freak.

- Laena stays in KL and later becomes master of coin.

- Saera’s son Viserys II is in Volantis and comes to King’s Landing with his wife Larra Rogare and their son Aegon to serve as Laenor and Jake and Joffrey’s hand after they extend an olive branch.

- The Targannister kids technically survived but lose their dragons so they’re just sort of like well you guys didn’t see any of that. we’re just lannisters now.

arc 2 of this absurd fire and blood revamp where everything is cringe in a way that’s specifically appeals to me complete

#asoiaf #king visenya au #i forgot about gael. well she’s just hanging out #also aerea has tessarion. ooos

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the-wip-project · 4 months

Text

SloMo WriNo: The Writing Habit

You’re going to get tired of hearing me say this, but when it comes to finishing your writing (or getting pretty much any long term project accomplished) habit is everything.

A solid writing habit will get you through those days when writing feels boring, when you’re tired, uninspired, lost. Habit is the magic that makes the writing train go— more often than most people want to admit.

That said, establishing a new habit can be fiendishly difficult— especially if you have a neurodivergent brain. (This is coming from personal experience, as someone who took literal years to establish the habit of brushing my teeth before bed. (I still frequently have agonies about washing my face at the same time.))

So. How to establish a solid writing habit?

Step one is finding the time.

Your writing does not require large blocks of time. You can write productively in as little as fifteen minutes a day (yes, really!) but the only way that gets accomplished is by making it fast and simple to get into your writing headspace.

How though?

By making it a routine at a similar time and place each day, by creating rituals that cue you that it’s writing time, or by attaching your writing to another established habit. Ideally your writing habit will combine all three.

Yes, flexibility is important, because every routine has variations in it, so being able to write even when you don’t have everything just right is important. But if in the past you’ve struggled to keep writing as a consistent part of your life, then creating a routine is the best first step to creating a habit.

Connecting your writing to another, enjoyable habit is good first step. Writing while you take your morning coffee break, or during your headphones on commute time, or along side your lunchtime treat might be all you need to create a positive association. You want writing time to be something you look forward to, not dread.

By keeping the session short (Somehow setting a timer for a number less than thirty makes even the most scary tasks feel approachable for me.) and adding something pleasant and relaxing to the mix you can start to build that positivity. I think this is why so many writers like to write with a cup of tea, or in coffee shops. Adding a delicious beverage habit cues your mind that this is writing time, and what’s more, that writing is a pleasant time taken just for one’s self.

It also makes a huge difference to write at a time when your brain feels good.

I have tried writing later in the evening, and every moment feels like work. My brain is tired, and all I want to do is relax, not think. It feels like I’ve already used up all my energy and motivation.

Instead I like to wake early to write. This might sound like torture for all you night owls, but for me, (and plenty of other people) writing has become a keystone to healthy morning habits. Knowing that I’m going to wake by 5am in order to write is an incentive for me to be in bed by 9:30, (instead of staying up late to doom scroll, eat junk food and make other poor decisions) which helps me wake up with the right level of brain activity to write, which then makes me energetic enough to head out on my morning run directly after writing. Which means all the ideas from my writing session float around in my head in a pleasant soup, distracting me from the monotony of feet hitting ground. It’s a string of positive associations that keeps me happy and healthy.

For you the opposite might be true. Perhaps you find yourself in a peaceful writerly head space after the rest of your household is asleep, or while taking a break at work or school. The key is to find a time and/or place that’s low friction, when the obstacles to writing are less, when getting to your keyboard (or notebook if you’re old-school) feels less like work and maybe even like a reward, and then build out other positive associations around it.

If you’re used to viewing writing as something painful and difficult this might seem alien to you. So let me just add this: your words are not worth more because you were miserable when writing them. It’s not only okay to enjoy your writing time, it’s preferable. Sure you’ll connect a bit less to the writing is misery memes, but it’s worth it, I promise!

So, here is your assignment for the week: Take a look at your schedule and figure out what times might be convenient for regularly scheduled writing. And then try them out and see if you can find a time and place where writing feels good. You might have to move some other activities around to find that sweet spot, (like me, moving my bed time to allow morning writing time) and expect some stalls, some fails and lack of consistency. It’s not going to feel good all the time immediately, and you will need to will power your way through at times. But overall, once you can start forming that positive habit, the writing will become far easier to get to. And much more enjoyable when you do.

—Maree

Subscribe to my substack to make sure you don't miss a post, chat with me on the WIP Project discord, and tag any posts you make about the challenge with #slomowrino if you want me to see them!

#slomowrino #writing advice #writing as a habit

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