#time to log of until september
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HELP WWDITS HASN'T COME OUT IN MY COUNTRY YET I CAN'T AVOID THE SPOILERS
#time to log of until september#wwdits#what we do in the shadows#nandor the relentless#guillermo#nadja#lazlo
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Chapter warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), language, lots of smut, fluff, did I mention smut?
Epilogue
September 2005
"Are we almost there?" you asked Joel, who looked back over his shoulder at you from atop his horse.
"Almost," he assured you, turning back to the road in front of him.
He had wanted to keep it a surprise, but you saw the signs on the highway and figured it out a few hours into the trip. He was taking you to Yellowstone for "a few days", and it had taken you almost a full day on the back of a horse to finally get there. Your back and legs were sore, but you didn't complain. You were excited at the idea of getting away with Joel, just the two of you, the way it used to be.
You wondered where he was planning on taking you, having ridden by several campgrounds at this point as you made your way down the twisty road that led you through the entire park. You began to see signs for Old Faithful and your face lit up.
"C'mon, this way," he called over his shoulder as he steered his horse onto a road that led to a massive parking lot peppered with buildings. He led you past a visitors' center, a restaurant, and a general store until he stopped in front of a huge hotel.
"Whoa," you said, sliding down from your horse as you gawked up at the huge building, which was made to look like a giant log cabin.
"Me and Tommy came up a week ago and checked out the area, should be safe," he told you as he tied your horses to a railing.
"The whole building?" you asked incredulously. There was no way they could have gone through each room.
"Well, no, but we cleared the first floor and barricaded the stairs after we checked the hallways," he admitted. "Still should be on alert, though."
He led you up the steps and cracked the front door open, peeking inside for a minute before opening it all the way and letting you in. He held his rifle in his hands as he checked out the dining hall and kitchen before returning to you in the lobby. You had plopped down on a couch to rest, your head twisting around as you took in the artwork and informational signage on the walls.
"Tired?" he guessed, arching an eyebrow at you.
"A little," you admitted guiltily. "Guess I got too used to a life of luxury."
He laughed and held his arm out to help pull you up from the couch.
"C'mon, I already picked out a room for us," he said, leading you down the hall with his arm slung around your shoulder.
"I feel bad you did all this work and it's your birthday," you told him.
"You don't know if it's my birthday," he reminded you, and you shook your head.
"According to Maria's calendar, it's tomorrow," you said as you gave him a gentle poke in the ribs. No one was really sure what the actual date was. It had struck a big debate in a town hall meeting, various people swearing up and down they had kept track since the outbreak, but no one could agree on the same date. Maria compromised and picked a date in the middle, and it had been that way ever since.
"A few days all alone with you is well worth it," he said. Once you reached a door marked 19 all the way at the end of the hall, he dropped his arm from your shoulders and gripped his rifle.
"Lemme double check it's clear," he told you, pushing the unlocked door open and advancing into the room, doing a quick sweep before coming back out to the hall, ushering you inside.
"This is nice," you said, shrugging off your backpack and kicking off your boots. It was a standard hotel room: one king sized bed, a dresser, end tables, and a bathroom. But it looked like he had taken the time to clean it. You noticed there wasn't much dust on the surfaces in the room, and the bed looked freshly made.
"It's not much," he said as he walked to the covered window. "But this is why I picked it."
He flicked the curtains open so you could see outside. It was getting dark, but you could see a massive, open, rocky terrain directly outside your window. You squinted, trying to figure out what you were looking at when suddenly a huge gush of water shot straight up into the sky.
"Holy shit!" you yelled, quickly walking over to press your face against the window. Joel laughed. His timing couldn't have been more perfect.
You watched the geyser erupt for a few short minutes before it slowed and disappeared, and the quiet of evening enveloped the area once again.
"That was so cool," you said, looking up at him leaning against the window frame.
"We can get a better look tomorrow," he promised you. He pushed off the window to return to his pack, taking out a lantern and putting it on top of the dresser so you could see as the sun began to set.
"Is this where you and Tommy stayed when you came here?"
"No," he chuckled. "We were practically still kids. Thought we were tough roughin' it in the woods. First night we thought we heard a bear, next mornin' we booked the tiniest cabin you've ever seen, spent the rest of the week tryin' not to kill each other."
You laughed at the image he painted for you then flopped on the bed with a groan.
"Comfortable?" he asked you, standing up from emptying his backpack and turning around.
"Mhmm," you hummed, turning your head to look at him across the room. "Come here."
He strode over to you with a smirk and leaned down, his fists pushing into the mattress to hold him up on either side of you. He bent down to press his lips softly against yours, your eyes fluttering shut at the tenderness behind his kiss. You ran your hand up his exposed forearm, lightly tracing his veins under your fingertip while your other hand wrapped around the back of his neck, your fingers carding through his curls as you pulled him down further to you.
"Y'know, it's the anniversary of our first kiss," he mumbled against your mouth before pulling back and standing up.
"Oh, that's right," you said with a grin, then sat up on the bed as you watched him tug the curtains closed. You dragged your eyes up and down his body, thinking back to that night outside the bar and how much simpler life was back then.
"What're you thinkin' about?" he asked you, the corner of his mouth tugging up when he turned around and caught you staring.
"I was just wondering what would have happened that night if I went home with you," you told him. You giggled when his gaze darkened, his mind clearly taking what you said very literally.
"I mean, with us," you clarified. "And the outbreak. What our lives would have been like, if we would have even found each other that day..." your voice trailed off, leaving out the darker thought you had. What if Colleen had bit you?
Joel could tell you were overthinking when he saw your unfocused eyes trail around the room and your teeth sink into your lower lip.
"I always woulda found you, no matter what," he assured you. When that didn't seem to snap you out of it, he continued. "Besides, if you had come home with me that night, there was no way we were leavin' my bed the next day. I can promise you that."
That finally made a grin pull across your face and your eyes light up.
"Oh, yeah?" you pressed him, wiggling your eyebrows. You crawled across the bed, laying flat on your stomach and beckoned him to join you. He shook his head but walked back over to the bed anyway.
"Thought you were tired?" he murmured, his fingers gently trailing from the back of your neck down your spine.
"Not that tired," you said, turning your head to the side so you could look up at him standing above you. "Tell me what would have happened that night."
He felt his cock move in his jeans, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from groaning. It always amazed him how you could bring him to his knees with just a few words.
He swung his leg over yours so he was kneeling on either side of you, his hips resting on the back of your legs. He ran his hands up your sides before slowly dragging them back down to your hips, giving them a squeeze.
"Assumin' I didn't fuck you in the elevator first," he said lowly, his fingers dipping underneath the hem of your shirt. "I think I woulda laid you on top of my kitchen counter, pushed that little black dress up," he said as he lifted your shirt up to your shoulders, his hands massaging your sore back. "Then I woulda fucked you with my tongue til you were screamin' my name."
"Hmm," you moaned, wiggling your ass enticingly. "You do seem to have a thing for kitchen counters."
He grinned as he gently yanked your shirt over your head, leaving your top half bare and pressed into the bed.
"What else?" you asked breathlessly, your eyes sliding shut as he continued to rub his rough hands along your sore muscles.
"You remember those red shoes you were wearin'?"
You nodded and let out a soft whimper when his fingers found a particularly tough knot in your back.
"When I saw those, I thought about fuckin' you with 'em slung over my shoulders," he said, his erection straining against his jeans now.
"I should've packed them before we left my apartment," you muttered with a half smile. "I'm sure they would have been useful in the middle of the woods."
"Oh, you wanna talk about what went through my mind in your apartment?" he asked, reaching underneath you to unzip your jeans. He could feel the anticipation bubbling inside him becoming unmanageable, desperate to bury himself inside you.
"What about it?" you whispered, lifting your hips so he could pull your jeans off, leaving you in just your underwear. He hissed through his teeth when he saw the lacy pair you chose to wear for him, leaving very little coverage. His huge hands stretched out over each one of your cheeks as far as he could before curling his fingers and giving your ass an aggressive jiggle.
"Shoulda at least packed those little red panties stashed away in your drawer," he growled, his hands massaging your ass before traveling down the backs of your thighs, his movements becoming erratic. He felt your body still under him, and he froze, wondering if he crossed a line.
"What the hell? You went through my underwear drawer?" you asked sharply without turning your head to look at him. He cleared his throat before answering.
"Well, I-I didn't mean to, I was lookin' on top of your dresser and the drawer was open..." Joel stammered, feeling embarrassed until he felt your body shaking under his hands, your palm covering your mouth to stifle your laughter. He exhaled harshly when he realized you were just messing with him, his mood quickly changing back to playful.
"Oh, you're gonna get it now," he said darkly, making you yelp when he grabbed the sides of your underwear and roughly pulled them down your legs.
You tried to turn over, but his hand splayed across your lower back, effectively stopping you with a tsk.
"Nah, I think you're good right where you are, sweetheart," he said as he hurriedly unbuckled his belt. You heard the telltale sound of a zipper, and you thought you were going to jump out of your skin. Not being able to see him but to hear and feel everything was driving you wild.
He only pushed his jeans down far enough to free his cock, stroking it in one hand while his other hand curled around your hipbone, giving you a firm but gentle tug. You immediately obeyed, lifting your hips off the mattress but keeping your arms and head flat against the comforter. Your breaths were shallow as you anxiously waited for him to touch you.
Joel watched your arms reach straight out, your fingers gripping the duvet as your braced yourself for him. He looked down to admire your ass propped up in the air. He kept a firm hold on your hip as he slid his cock between your folds, collecting your arousal all along the length of him. You let out a low moan when his tip pushed up against your clit, and he couldn't help the smirk that danced across his face.
"You like messin' with me, hm?" he asked, dragging his cock through your folds again before his tip found your entrance, and he paused.
"Answer me," he demanded, his brows furrowed as he stared at the back of your head. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his tone. It was one of the things you loved most about him: his duality. The way he could be so gentle and soft, but also rough and harsh.
"Yes," you said breathily, and you felt his cock twitch against your cunt. Before you had a chance to think, his hand came down on your ass with a loud smack, followed immediately by him sinking into you with one swift motion.
"Fuck!" you cried out, waiting as the sting from his hand and cock slowly subsided into pleasure. Your fingers gripped the duvet so tight, they felt numb. You panted against your arm, waiting for him to move.
Both his hands gripped your hips lightly as he tried to ground himself, the sensation of your walls squeezing him making him dizzy. He watched, slack jawed, as the red handprint he left on your cheek slowly faded. Once it was gone, he swallowed and steadied himself.
He pulled back almost completely and paused before he pushed back into you as deep as he could, eliciting a moan from your throat. The angle caused him to get so deep that his tip was pressing against your cervix, making your eyes roll to the back of your head with each deep, powerful thrust.
He began to roll his hips steadily, his grip on you tightening as you whimpered under him. He could tell he was hitting that sweet spot by the soft noises you made and the way you clenched around him, causing him to quickly approach his high.
"Joel," you whined under him, desperate to hear his voice, still unable to see him.
"Would you have let me fuck you like this?" he gasped, his head tilting back and his eyes sliding shut as he continued to fuck into you. "That night at the bar? Would you - "
"Yes!" you cried out, your hips bucking against him now, desperate for release. "I wanted you so bad that night, baby, please..."
A switch flipped inside him when he heard that name - baby. He groaned, his eyes flashing open, his jaw clenched as his fingers left deep bruises in your hips.
"Fuck, y'know what that does to me," he muttered, slamming his hips into you over and over until he felt your cunt flutter around him, and you choked out a gasp, letting your orgasm wash over you as he continued to jerk inside you relentlessly.
He felt your body sag, but you fought to hold your hips up on shaky legs as he chased his release.
"That's my girl. Such a good girl, always make me feel so good," he murmured more to himself than anything. A few more thrusts and he pulled himself out of you quickly, spilling himself all over your back as you panted for air underneath him.
You both collapsed onto the bed: you on your stomach, him on his back, as you each attempted to catch your breath.
"Jesus, fuck," he rasped, staring at the ceiling. You turned your head and gave him a quiet giggle.
"I should mess with you more often," you teased, pulling the hair back from your face.
"I'm gettin' old, you know," he said, turning his head to the side. "You might kill me."
You hummed as your fingers danced up his still clothed torso, your eyelids drooping. With a groan, he pushed himself off the bed to fish out a rag from his backpack, cleaning you both up before tossing it on the floor and shimmying out of his clothes. He collapsed into bed naked, pulling you against him and yanking the sheets over the top of you both.
He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling deeply before he drifted off to sleep.
You woke up the next morning to Joel's rough, calloused hands lazily drawing circles over your stomach. You were both still naked under the sheets, Joel's arms wrapped around you from behind as you slept on your right side, tucked against him. His warm breath fanned across the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as you pressed yourself into him further. You were both barely awake, eyes closed as you enjoyed each other's gentle touch under the cool, white sheets.
Joel pushed his hips against your ass, craving your warmth while his hand slowly traveled to your ribs, stroking the old scars that served as a reminder of what you were willing to do for him. You sighed, eyes still closed as you pushed yourself back against his hardening length. His fingers continued to blindly trace your scars until he slid his hand down to your hip, pressing a small kiss against your shoulder. His beard tickled your overly sensitive skin, giving you goosebumps. Joel yanked the covers over you further, thinking your reaction meant you were cold. He returned his hand to your hip, his massive palm gripping it lightly while he encouraged you to roll your ass against him slowly, and you happily obliged.
His right hand spread across your stomach and pulled you close, while his left hand found its way from your hip to between your legs. He let out a soft moan when he felt your wetness collecting there, all for him. He kept his eyes shut and rested his face against the back of your neck, lazily teasing your clit with the pad of his middle finger. You sighed, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow you had been sleeping on as you continued to slowly rock your hips against his cock.
You could feel your slick spreading over your inner thighs, your legs still pressed together while Joel continued to work you slowly, like he had all the time in the world. You felt the telltale stickiness of his precum leaving a trail on your lower back while you continued to rub up against him.
You lifted your left leg in the air, your ankle resting on the side of his knee. Reaching down, your fingers wrapped around his cock, notching his thick head against your aching cunt and sighed with relief as he pushed himself into you. His hand left your clit to steady your hip against him, his other hand still pressed firmly on your stomach.
You both kept your eyes closed, savoring the slow, languid feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, filling you up. You could feel every inch of him from this angle, fitting so perfectly inside you, rubbing his tip slowly and steadily against that one spot only he managed to find.
His left hand slid down your inner thigh, his hips still rocking gently against your ass, until his palm reached your knee. He pulled it up towards the ceiling, your foot falling onto the bed behind his legs, opening up your hips to deepen the angle.
You gasped softly and your grip tightened on the pillow. His chest was pressed up against your back, and you could hear the stickiness on your skin from your combined sweat with each of his slow thrusts and roll of your hips.
His hand remained on your knee, spreading you open for him as he steadily fucked into you from behind. You could tell by his exhale on your neck that his breath was coming quicker now. You felt the familiar coil tightening in your lower stomach, and you tipped your head back, mouth hanging open, eyes still closed.
Your movement must have finally made him open his eyes to look at you because he craned his neck over to claim your open mouth with his, his tongue lazily swirling around yours.
There was no rush. No frantic, hurried movements. Just the two of you enjoying a peaceful, serene morning.
You whimpered softly against his mouth. He could feel your muscles tensing under his hands, a sign warning him you were close. He kept his hand on your knee but reached his right hand down to your clit, two fingers working you back and forth until the coil finally snapped.
You moaned, the loudest noise either of you had made so far that morning, as your hips stuttered against him. He felt your release coating his already soaked cock as he forced his eyes open to watch you. He kept rolling his hips into you steadily while you came down from your high, gasping for breath and covered in sweat.
He was so transfixed on your face, so obsessed with the way he could unravel you, that he didn't even realize his own climax had snuck up on him. He groaned into your neck as he felt his thick ropes of cum shooting inside you.
Reality came crashing down quickly, his eyes widening as he pulled his hips back aggressively, watching the rest of his spend coat your back and the sheets.
"Oh, fuck," he gasped, scrambling to sit up on the bed. You gave him a confused look over your shoulder, still lost in the afterglow of your orgasm. He grabbed your ankles and twisted you around so you were flat on your back, pushing your legs apart and peering between them to confirm his fear.
"Fuck!" he said, more panicked now. You sat up when you realized what happened, looking down at the trail of cum that was leaking out of you and onto the bed.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to - fuck!" he said for the third time, his jaw clenching while his hand angrily raked through his hair.
"Wait, just calm down, let me think for a second," you told him, your hand over your chest. Your eyes scanned the room as you mentally did the math, trying to remember the last time you had your period.
"What's there to think about? Christ, I'm such a fuckin' asshole," he said as he stood from the bed and paced around the room, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
"I think it's fine," you said timidly, still counting the days in your head. "Yeah, it's fine. We're fine," you said more confidently now.
"How?!" he exclaimed, clearly still in a panic. You kneeled on the bed now, holding out your hands to try and quiet him down.
"Joel, there's only a handful days a month where this would have been a problem, and fortunately for us, this is not one of those days," you explained calmly. He looked confused, so you continued.
"I'm supposed to get my period in like, 4 or 5 days. I'm not ovulating, it's fine," you emphasized, and you watched as his eyes softened, absorbing your words.
"Oh, shit," he muttered, tipping his head back. His body sagged with relief as he flopped back on the bed, his hand on his heaving chest.
"Relax, it's okay," you cooed, running your fingers gently through his hair. He sighed and looked up at you.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he repeated, and you shook your head.
"Don't be. It was such a nice way to wake up, let's not ruin it," you said softly, leaning down to press a kiss against his lips.
"Mmm, it was, wasn't it?" he said, smiling against your mouth.
"Except now, you made a mess, and I need to clean myself up," you teased, sliding off the bed to head into the bathroom.
"Wait," he called out, and you turned around. "Before you do... c'mere."
You walked slowly back over to his side of the bed, his gaze raking up and down your naked form.
"What?" you whispered, his hand reaching up to grasp yours.
"Let me see," he told you, his gaze flicking down to your cunt and then back up to your eyes. Your breath hitched in your throat at his request.
"You already saw," you teased, and he grunted, dropping your hand and pushing himself up so he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I wanna see again," he said sternly, his gaze dark. His hands reached out to grip the backs of your thighs, pulling you toward him so you stood between his knees.
You placed your hands on his shoulders and took a step to the side, parting your legs. He watched with his lips parted as a trail of his cum dripped slowly down your thigh.
"Fuck," he whispered to himself, his hand coming down from your leg to palm his half hard cock.
"Oh, now you like it?" you chided him, but he just nodded and swallowed, still staring.
"Would it be bad if I wanna do it again?" he whispered, looking up at you.
"I'm not sure we should celebrate it, Joel," you muttered, your nails grazing his shoulder. You shifted your weight, trying to hide the familiar ache growing between your legs.
"You want it, too," he said, noticing how you tried to keep yourself from pressing your thighs together.
You bit your lower lip as you stared into his eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. Your gaze flickered down to his cock, fully hard now and waiting for you. His hands massaged the backs of your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours as he waited for your response.
You re-counted the days in your head hurriedly before you nodded.
"Just this once," you whispered, knowing it was a lie the moment the words left your lips. He growled, one hand sliding up your back while the other firmly held your thigh so he could twist you around, tossing you on your back behind him.
He crawled on top of you feverishly, a wild look in his eye as his mouth lunged down to cover yours. You could hardly keep up with his tongue before he dragged his mouth down your jaw, sucking and licking the sensitive skin on your neck.
"Joel," you whined, your legs spreading under his weight. It felt like his body was vibrating with excitement, the urge to claim you in the rawest sense taking over. He reached down to line himself up, and with barely any warning, buried his cock inside you all the way to the hilt, making you cry out underneath him. He groaned into your shoulder, his arms wrapped around you tightly, his pace merciless. Your fingernails left marks on his back as you held on for dear life, a stark contrast to the lazy way he fucked you earlier that morning.
He was lost in his own head, pounding into you like an animal, the thought of filling you with his cum driving him crazy. You whimpered, trying to adjust your hips to ease the sting with no success. It occurred to him he was being too rough when he heard the noise you made, and he slowed his hips, lifting his head from your shoulder to look down at your face, which was trying to mask the pain.
"I'm sorry," he gasped, rolling his hips a little slower.
"It's okay," you squeaked, your eyes screwed shut. "Keep going."
"Don't wanna hurt you," he murmured, holding your hip down and rolling his cock inside you more deliberately, the way he knows you liked.
"Not hurting me," you told him, forcing your eyes open and blinking back tears.
"Liar," he said, planting a soft kiss against your lips. You moaned and tipped your head back while he continued to thrust into you slower, your nails easing up on his back.
"Think you can come for me, sweetheart?" he panted, watching your face closely for any more discomfort.
"I-I don't know," you admitted, your brows furrowing in concentration. He pulled his hips back so his hand could travel between your bodies, the pad of his thumb brushing against your clit.
"How's that?" he asked, causing you to squirm underneath him and gasp.
"Better," you groaned as his thumb built up your second orgasm of the morning. "Yeah, like that, fuck - talk to me, Joel," you begged.
"You like it when I talk dirty to you?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes," you hissed, arching your back as he continued rolling his hips into you.
"What'dya wanna hear?" he grunted. "Want me to tell you how tight your pretty pussy feels, even though I already stretched it out last night and this mornin'?"
You moaned and pinched your eyebrows together, his words washing over you, making you climb higher.
"Or you wanna hear somethin' sweeter?" he asked, his hips slowing a fraction. "Wanna know how much I think 'bout you all day? How I can't focus on anyone else when you're in the room, hm? How I've never loved anybody the way I love you?"
You felt the tears prick your eyes again, but this time it wasn't due to pain.
"Joel," you whispered, bringing a hand up from his shoulder to rake through his hair. His thumb picked up the pace and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
"That's right, say my name," he groaned, loving the way he alone could make you come undone. "Wanna hear you scream it when you come for me, can you do that, sweetheart?"
You nodded obediently, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack as you felt yourself about to let go. He felt your walls tighten around him, and he smirked, his thrusts picking up the pace again.
"Oh, fuck," he gasped, his hips stuttering. "C'mon, let me hear you."
"Joel!" you yelled out, just as you promised, your back arching off the bed and your hand yanking his hair violently as you felt the wave of your climax wash over you yet again.
"That's my girl," he said through gritted teeth, his hips snapping into you again, the hand that was previously on your clit found its spot back on your hip, keeping you in place.
"I'm gonna come, sweetheart," he panted, his vision getting spotty. "I'm gonna come in this tight pussy, make a fuckin' mess."
"Do it," you whispered, your body lax underneath him, eyes slid shut.
"Need you to say it," he pleaded, his voice pained. You opened your eyes and looked at him. His forehead was dripping with sweat, his eyes wild as he stared down at you, waiting for your permission again.
"Come inside me, Joel," you murmured. You felt the goosebumps pop up under his skin at hearing your words. He hung his head, giving you just a couple more thrusts before his body stilled with a deep groan.
"Fuck!" he growled, looking down as he throbbed inside you, watching as his slow thrusts eventually pushed his hot spend out, collecting at the base of his cock. His arms gave out, collapsing on top of you, catching his breath against your shoulder.
"Goddamn," he croaked, turning his face towards you after a minute. "I like bein' inside you after."
"Yeah," you whispered, your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of having him everywhere.
"Happy birthday," you added with a smirk. He let out a huff that sounded like a tired laugh, and he gave your shoulder a quick kiss.
"Thank you," he muttered, dragging his lips over the curve of your shoulder, making you shudder.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked as his hand wrapped around your waist.
"No, I would have told you to stop if you hurt me," you said, opening your eyes to look at him. He searched your face for a moment before nodding and shutting his eyes.
You let him stay like that for a few minutes until the stickiness between your legs became too uncomfortable.
"Joel," you murmured, and he hummed in response. "I gotta clean up."
He let out a groan of protest before he shakily pushed himself up on his arms and slowly slid his cock out of you with a hiss, staring at the mess he left between your legs.
"Nuh uh, don't get any ideas, I need a break," you warned him, pushing on his shoulder so you could stand. He laughed, helping you up on unsteady legs.
"Couldn't do it if I tried, I ain't Superman," he joked as you wobbled towards the bathroom.
"Coulda fooled me," you called back over your shoulder before you shut the bathroom door behind you.
"I thought we were going to see the geyser again?" you questioned wearily as you watched Joel unhook a canoe from inside the cabin he had just broken into. He dragged it out onto the grass before turning back to find paddles inside.
"It goes off like every hour or somethin', we'll see it a bunch more, I promise," he said, handing you a paddle. You took it gingerly from his hand as he tossed his own into the canoe and began pushing it on the grass towards the water.
"You sure the horses will be ok?" you asked, not thrilled about the idea of floating down something called Firehole River.
"Yeah, they're good. I got them all set up in a shed. Plenty of food and water. You alright?" he asked, finally noticing the discomfort on your face.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you nodded. You wanted to do whatever he wanted to do. After all, it was his birthday.
"Don't look fine," he said, giving the canoe a final shove but keeping one foot inside so it didn't float away.
"I'm just not really good on water," you finally admitted. "I get sick, the waves make me nauseous."
"Oh, don't worry about it, sweetheart. You'll be alright. River doesn't have any waves, it's slow. But if you do start to get sick, we can go back."
You agreed, if only because he seemed so excited for whatever he had planned and you didn't want to ruin it. You took a tentative step into the canoe, your hand flying out to grab onto Joel when you felt it shift under you.
Once both feet were inside, you quickly sat down so your weight didn't rock the boat. Joel jumped in with ease after he gave the canoe a shove from shore, and he began to paddle north. It was a cooler day, but the sun warmed your skin to the point where you ended up shedding your coat after a few minutes.
"Hardly even need to paddle, current's takin' us fast," he said, setting down the paddle and leaning back, admiring the huge trees that lined the river. He turned his head to watch a small herd of deer drinking from the river as you floated by a clearing in the woods.
"This is actually very peaceful," you admitted, closing your eyes and leaning back against his chest.
"Feelin' sick?" he asked as he rubbed a hand up and down your arm.
"Nope, I'm good," you told him. "Where are we headed?"
"It's a surprise," he said with a grin.
"It's your birthday, you're supposed to be the one surprised."
"I seem to remember bein' surprised this mornin'," he teased, and you swatted at his arm.
"Fine," you grumbled, closing your eyes again.
All of the physical activity from yesterday and that morning must have caught up with you because the next thing you knew, Joel was whispering in your ear, waking you up.
You squinted up at him, the sun still powerful overhead.
"Must've wore you out," he joked as he tried to paddle the canoe to shore. Your body was still draped over his and clearly in his way, so you sat up to free him, stretching your arms with a yawn and looking at your surroundings.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Maybe half an hour," he said with a grunt when the canoe hit land. He stood up and hopped on the shore, leaning forward to haul you and the canoe halfway onto the gravel before reaching out his hand to help you up.
"What a rugged, sexy boyfriend I have," you giggled, and you swore you saw his cheeks flush when he smiled.
"C'mon, grab your backpack, we gotta walk a bit but it ain't far," he said, waiting for you to be ready.
"What's not far?" you tried again, adjusting your shoulder straps as you fell in step next to him.
"You'll see," he said with a smirk, and you rolled your eyes.
You walked for maybe 15 minutes on rocky, white terrain before you saw the steam in the distance. You squinted, trying to figure out what you were looking at. It wasn't until you passed by a sign that said "Grand Prismatic Spring" that you figured it out.
"Is this a hot spring?!" you exclaimed, and he nodded, the corners of his mouth turning up as your excitement bubbled over.
"Largest one in the country," he said as you got closer.
"Oh my god!" you cried out, unable to contain yourself when you saw it. It was huge. The steam was thick as it hovered over the water, but you could still see the size of it, and the colors. It had to be the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. The vivid oranges on the shore that faded to bright yellows, then greens to a deep blue took your breath away.
"Can we swim in it?" you asked him, and he shook his head.
"It's too hot, you'll burn," he told you regrettably when he saw your face fall. "But there is another spot a bit of a ways over there called Opal Pool. Me and Tommy swam it in when we were here."
"Sounds beautiful," you told him, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the lips. "Lead the way."
It was only a ten minute walk from the hot spring to the small body of water. Joel warned you as you yanked off your shirt that it wasn't a hot spring, so the water was a bit cooler, but it should still be comfortable. You shimmied out of your pants, eager to soak your sore muscles in the crystal blue water.
You tested the water out briefly with your toes before going all the way in as quickly as you could, submerging yourself up to your collarbone. He was right, the water was a little chilly, but it still felt good. You turned around just in time to watch his fully naked form come in after you, a quick puff of air leaving his mouth once he realized the temperature before he made his way over to you and wrapped his arms around your ribs, pulling you close.
You hooked your legs around his waist and rested your arms around his shoulders. Leaning forward, you pressed gentle kisses against his neck and a contented sigh left his mouth.
"This might be the best birthday I've ever had," he murmured into your ear.
"I don't know," you said, leaning back. "That Beefaroni I found you last year was pretty good." He laughed before pressing a kiss against your lips.
"Yeah, that was a good one, too," he relented, bringing a wet hand out of the water to brush back the hair from your face. You leaned into his touch with a sigh.
"What would it have been like if we ended up living here, like you wanted?" you wondered out loud as you stared into his deep brown eyes.
"I'm sure there's pros and cons," he said, his eyes traveling down to your tits just barely concealed by the water. "This is definitely in the pro column." You laughed as you rested the side of your head against this shoulder.
"Woulda been harder to survive. Constantly havin' to hunt and trap. Woulda been lonely. Not that I feel lonely when it's just us," he corrected himself quickly, and you rubbed his arm, letting him know you understood. "Sometimes it's nice to have other people around, is all."
"And the pros?" you asked him, your breath raking over the skin of his throat.
"Pros are easy," he said with a smile, and his hold around you tightened. "Just you and me. And all this. No threats. No danger. Just... peace and quiet."
You hummed and brought your head back up to give him another kiss, your lips slotting perfectly against his.
"It's nice that we can have both," you whispered against his mouth.
"Just as long as you're happy," he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours.
"I'm happy," you assured him. "I'm beyond happy."
Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#tlou hbo#the last of us hbo#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller series#joel x reader#joel x reader smut#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#pedro pascal#the last of us game#the way we were joel miller fic#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction
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And now, for some shit ain't nobody asked for... *drumroll please...*
Fanboy Futturman Headcanons That Hardly Make Sense Unless You're Deranged
(because it's fun)
Tags: just rawdog it bruh, idk what this is. I got fucken murmed.
Notes: Special thanks to @luverstream for going insane with me. This list is based off of our oddly specific thread. Love you pookers <3
°☆>》¤●¤《<☆°
• 100% started writing fanfiction for 'Biotic Wars' because there was only two works in the whole fandom and they were both illiterate/ooc
• It started as a challenge because he likes writing as a hobby so he made a random account on Tumblr and wrote a one-shot from Tigers POV just for shits and giggles
• He didn't expect literally anyone to read it, maybe a couple notes
• Then around his lunch break the next day his phone won't. Stop. Dinging.
• Long story short, he ends up with an account with like. 1.1k followers
• Once he realizes he has a serious reader base, he takes his blog seriously
• He spends a weird amount of time perfectly curating his blogs aesthetic with mods and whatever extentions he can find
• Personally commissions other fans for his fanfic borders, proper gifs, etc. He has one fanfic actually illustrated for Kinktober and it stays at the top of the 'Biotic War' tags for months
• Speaking of Kinktober, literally will not make plans for October/late September because he knows he's gonna aim to post everyday
• Will stay up for days writing when he gets hyperfixated
• Hates posting short fics. If the number doesn't end with a .k he doesn't post it until it does
• Also has a bunch of Easter eggs from his favorite movies and such in his works as well
• Knows an insane amount of copywrite laws because he's had to deal with people illegally selling his works/uploading them on other platforms
• When he eventually gets a partner he initially lies and says he wanted to become a lawyer when he was a kid, thus why he knows so much
• That works for about 12 minutes before he finally breaks down and tells them the truth, then offers to show them his work because he's told literally no one in his personal life about it
• His partner eventually becomes his editor and co-author on certain works (mainly smut)
• Half the time when he's actively working on smut he's gotta stop midway to "test the accuracy" w/ said partner
• Writes OUTRAGEOUS smut that makes him unable to look in the mirror while he's writing it
• Deadass hides under his blankets in total darkness with tape over his computers camera because of the shame
• Has a collection of proofreaders/consultants because his first smut included cervix penetration and he got dragged by basically everyone on Tumblr for it
• Had a work get popular enough one time one of his friends sent it to him because they figured he'd get a kick out of it
• Which made him panic and stop writing for like a month to lay low
• Has a completely different Spotify account for writing because his mom uses his "normal" account even though he has a family plan (side note: they make little playlists for each other :))
• Has like 50 different playlists dedicated to his fics that's available for his readers to listen to
• The artists all range from Deftones to dodie depending on the work
• His top artist is Ayesha Erotica with 2000+ minutes spent on 'Yummy'
• (Also has an impossible amount of hours logged on said Spotify account)
• Has a whole panic attack when he leaves his phone in the 60s because he had a whole new chapter ready to publish in his 20 part hurt/no comfort/slowburn fic that was over 10.k words in his notes app
• Wolf finds his Ao3 account one time and becomes... concerningly obsessed with Futturmans work without realizing Futturman is the author
• It gets to the point Wolf will legit go on 30+ minute rants about the stories while Futturman is just hyperventilating in the corner because he doesn't know how long he can keep up the facade
• It gets worse when Wolf makes an account and starts actually commenting on the works
• However he ends up getting impressive tips from the rants and ends up incorporating his suggestions into his works
• Wolf never stops bragging about this
• His most popular work/series follows a female oc that originally started as a one-shot request for a oc x Wolf fic (which Wolf hates because he says it's OoC. Futturman does not agree nor care.) But ended up getting popular enough there's well over 20 parts
• At some point he, Wolf and Tiger get into a massive argument because he finds a bound copy of all of his works amongst their supplies and no one will confess who's it is and keep blaming each other
• (It's Tigers)
• When he gets to his final timeline he manages to get his all of his drafts back through Susan (who had a lot of questions, and was given no answers) and just publishes his work as an original series since Biotic Wars no longer exists
• "Orginial series" gets insanely popular and now he has like five burner accounts so he can read fanfiction of his own fanfiction
• Writes fanfiction for his own series purposely to fuck with the fanbase
• Usually will make it ooc but well written, but once in awhile comes up with a "headcanon" that will come true in his next book so he can watch the readers implode
• And last but not least
• He casts his other self in the final timeline as the male lead in the eventual movie adaptation. Because of course he would
(Bonus: in the OG timeline when Futturman ends up disappearing, his biggest series ends up never being finished, nor his blog updated. Leading to a weirdly thorough four hour video docuseries made by Wendigoon about the rise and disappearance of the mysterious author and how the 'Biotic Wars' fandom eventually finished the fic themselves and created their own spinoffs, leading the work to get more popular than 'Biotic Wars' ever was and like five different people falsely claiming they wrote it, only to be disproven within an insanely short amount of time. Yeah, kinda a full on My Immortal.)
>¤》○《¤<
Don't ask me what this was, I think I got possessed. Anyways, bon achoo sweet.
Taglist:
@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3
•▪︎Masterlist▪︎•
#josh hutcherson fanfic#josh hutcherson#jhutch#josh hutcherson fluff#josh hutcherson imagine#jhutch1992#josh futturman#josh hutcherson x reader#josh futturman headcanons#josh futturman smut#josh futturman x reader#josh futterman x reader#josh futturman x y/n#jfutz#future man 2017#future man hulu#future man
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...In some ways what Everett-puralia meenamatta is doing seems profoundly simple: he wanted to be arrested at the Styx in March, and was. And he eventually wants to be rearrested for failing to appear in court – though not until September, because he plans to be involved in further protest action with friend and fellow Tasmanian activist Bob Brown, who has himself been arrested many times in the forests.
Here is where it gets slightly more complicated. Beyond his 50-plus years of environmental activism and protest against the wholesale destruction of Tasmania’s culturally totemic old growth forests, Everett-puralia meenamatta’s desire to be arrested and eventually rearrested – and perhaps jailed or fined – is strategically aimed to highlight issues of Indigenous sovereignty, legal jurisdiction, colonialism and the citizenship status of Indigenous people on this continent.
“I do not identify as an Australian citizen,” says the former commercial fisherman, who recently obtained his master’s degree in history at the University of Tasmania.
“There has never been a true conciliation between First Nations people and the colonial nation of Australia. And any notion that First Nations peoples are citizens of Australia is an historic political lie being maintained by governments and institutions alike.
“It’s a trickery throughout its history to evade any responsibility to negotiate a treaty with our First Nations.”
Everett-puralia meenamatta does not recognise the court’s jurisdiction over him, as an Aboriginal “non-Australian citizen”. The court, he explains, is like so many Australian institutions – an enduring colonial instrument of an Australian state he neither recognises nor belongs to.
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Posted on September 2, 2022 by Rybyn Z.
The meeting went off the rails when I got a text and an email from one of the early elementary teachers. The managers were lying to our faces. Everyone must have gotten the same messages, because my coworkers’ voices started to rise, their tone grew angry, and they stopped respecting management’s “meeting norms.”
Our in-person school year had ended a week before, but management insisted on a virtual “follow-up” meeting. So, everyone dutifully logged on at 9:00 am. The regional director and his crony were waiting patiently. In an act worthy of Broadway, the DMV regional director, with a too-bad-so-sad tone, announced that our principal and assistant principal had “left to pursue other opportunities.” There was no one to replace them yet.
I work at a neighborhood charter school in Washington DC. Most students come from low-income or middle-income Black and Latinx families. Just a few months before I started working there, the board that owns the school switched charter management companies to a renowned national charter “turnaround” company based on the notorious Mind Trust’s model. Often credited as creating the blueprint for privatizing urban education, it helped spawn the company that now oversees my school. Mismanagement, exploitation, and hypocrisy were in the company’s DNA. Originally founded in Indianapolis (like the Mind Trust), the company grew until it spread all the way to Washington DC, where a charter market already thrives.
Staff, students, and families were already reeling from a traumatic year. So the announcement about the administration team blindsided us. While many of us did not like the principal and assistant principal—or, like myself, believe we could do without them altogether— we all agreed that they cared for the school community.
Meanwhile, the company had nearly run the school into the ground through mismanagement and financial profiteering schemes. They fired teachers while we were desperately understaffed, revoked already-earned bonuses for changing jobs, and did shady things to raise test scores. These were only the most glaring of a whole host of issues threatening to overwhelm and destroy the school.
So, we were all a little more than suspicious. The atmosphere was tense. A few staff members pressed the regional director for firm answers about our former leadership team—and received dodgy replies. One of the workers then asked, “Were they let go, or did they choose to leave?” over and over again. Eventually, the regional director paused for a few seconds, then—finally—said, “They chose to leave.”
That’s when I, and nearly everyone else, got the text message from the early elementary teacher. It was just an image thumbnail. Inside was the principal’s termination letter, sent by the director hosting the meeting.
It was too much. Under unbearable pressure, we exploded.
One of the teachers opened with a salvo about the terrible, contradictory communication and chaos. She ended with, “The 4:30 dismissal time has got to go.”
Our “offer letters” (we don’t have contracts) specified our roles and hours. We all got paid for eight hours a day while the company enforced nine-hour days—and most teachers worked longer to barely keep up with the crushing workload. All year, the workers had expressed disgust with these policies. Several times, workers took direct action against them. Most of the time, teachers just refused to do the bullshit busy work admin gave out, and the company couldn’t do much about it. Thanks, Great Resignation.
Another worker, an English Language Learner specialist, demanded to know if support staff who’d been thrown into different roles, sometimes multiple times a day, would be paid for their extra work. The director kept sidestepping our questions. He said to get paid, they needed to pull the records from the overflowing staff group chat, where people begged for classroom coverage all year. Several workers then pointed out that this group chat, owned by the former principal, was deleted. He had no answer for us, and we knew it. Even though we were on Zoom, I could feel the rage bubbling up.
The school’s social worker then cut the higher-up off, “You all have come into a community dealing with immense trauma without thinking about what the community needs at all. Where is the support from this company? We only see y’all once a month!”
This had been something that agitated everyone on the shop floor all year: the company flew a couple of rich white people into DC for two days each month, then straight back home. She laid into them for five more minutes.
As she talked, and as several teachers came off mute to support her and launch into their own tirades, I realized this was an opportunity to unite the staff and build power. I’d built up a committee in the first few months of the school year that took some direct actions. But without a proper formalized structure beyond a group chat, the committee only represented my immediate coworkers, and ultimately dissipated as understaffing at our school got worse and worse. It had felt like many workers at the school were content to take it on the chin and keep moving. That was incorrect. A deep rage extended across every grade band and role.
The task I’d struggled with was building a formal committee that met outside work hours. With the help of two external organizers from the IWW’s DC, Maryland, and Virginia Education Workers Organizing Committee and the Southern Coordinating Committee throughout the year, I accumulated the knowledge and skills I needed to do that. Here was an opportunity to apply that knowledge.
I noticed that several people had replied to the email the early elementary teacher sent, expressing anger and betrayal.
I hopped into the thread and sent a message venting my own feelings and asking if anyone wanted to form a group chat to discuss how to make a change in the workplace. Along with that, I whipped up a google form asking for contact info and platform preference—about ten people filled it out.
Workers were still on the meeting yelling at the regional director, by the way. The meeting was supposed to end by 10:00 am. It was now 10:30. Our office assistant took the mic.
“The old logo is still on the building, the same color scheme from before, too. How is this company going to support rebranding?”
The director shifted a little bit, seemingly uncomfortable with giving us information about how the company works, “the operations team helps, but really it’s up to the school board.”
The worker shot back, “We need an action item here. You said operations, does that mean the school leadership, the board, or the company makes that decision? I’m leaving so someone else needs to connect those dots.”
She received vocal and written support from staff, and kept pressing her demand until management caved and agreed to weekly meetings with worker input.
Soon, staff members turned to berate management for abandoning us. No counselor, no substitutes, and a stream of overworked, underpaid staff members running for the door had taken their toll. Our social worker spoke out again, “We desperately need a counselor. Why do we not have a counselor?”
“It all depends on enrollment, I’m sorry to say. That’s where the funding comes from, and with the school in a deficit, we can’t afford to backfill positions.”
One of the teachers—a 20-plus-year teaching veteran not to be played around with—took her turn to criticize not just the company, but the invisible board who hired them.
“I see where they’re all coming from. We felt like the stepchild of the company, like we were never a part of it as a school community. And it feels like that with the board, too. I feel like they never see the work teachers are doing in the building. We need to let the community back into the building to see what’s going on. We need a commitment to a counselor.”
“It all depends on enrollment…”
Meanwhile, I was setting up our committee’s group chat and collaborating with coworkers to set up the infrastructure to keep ourselves together over the summer. I gathered non-work contacts.
The same teacher responded to the director’s vague answers: “We don’t know where any of this information comes from! Why is there no money? Are we non-profit or for-profit? I know y’all probably came into DC thinking this was a hot money-making market for you with all the charter schools. But you don’t seem to realize that these other charter companies at least offer more resources. Two Rivers, DC Prep, and Friendship do that, why not y’all?”
I called the company out for doing nothing to cover the school’s deficit. Enrollment numbers had dropped over the pandemic, meaning less funding from the DC government while expenses rose. The higher-up and I got into an exchange where he tried to evade my questions, and I kept bringing up the same points. He fell back to the same “it’s up to the board, government, and enrollment,” line, so I went back on mute to allow others to speak.
Two more staff members aired grievances about being thrown into different positions with no warning. At that point, it was 11:00, and the regional director claimed he had another meeting he had to join. I wonder what he said about us afterward.
There are a couple of lessons to draw from this experience. One is that having a formal committee that represents the workplace is essential. Two, spontaneous direct actions by workers can win gains and catalyze a solid organizing committee.
During the 2021-2022 school year, my coworkers and I were able to win certain concessions from management through loosely coordinated direct actions. For example, our ex-principal imposed an attendance policy that collectively punished the staff for the late arrivals of only a few (and those workers were only late consistently because of terrible conditions). Throughout the next day, groups of workers would go down to the office to protest—spurred on by everyone else cheering them on. We won.
Even so, most of the tangible organizing only happened in my department—the 3-5th grade instructional team. Within our own circle, we were strongly critical of the principal. Eventually, one of the 3rd-grade teachers even lead us in writing up a formal complaint against them. But after consolidating a committee representing K-2, 3-5, para-educators, and food service staff, I discovered there was a significant minority of staff who loved our principal and assistant principal. The two of them being fired was what agitated them enough to take action and join the committee in the first place. Without a formal workplace-wide committee, we couldn’t see that. I had to readjust my perspective.
Our spontaneous actions made a difference. This year, we have an official eight-hour workday, more robust curriculum support, and a seemingly much more competent leadership team. Less concretely, management has tread a lot more lightly around us. It’s obvious they want to do more to control and discipline their human capital stock, but can’t because they know we might bite back, and hard.
Not only that, but the committee I formed survived the summer, has a meeting schedule, and is actively gathering contacts in preparation for one-on-one conversations as I write this. Summer whittled us down from ten to five, but I had my first one-on-one just the other day, and management has started to act like their old selves again, so I’m predicting that will change soon.
Contact the IWW today if you want to start organizing at your job. Click here to read more about Rybin Z., the author and organizer.
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💚 HoS Mods Recs ❤️
Cause, why not?
photo source
Summer is coming to an end, and autumn will be here soon. Seasons change, years pass us by, but Snarry is here to stay. The following brought us some joy and hopefully it'll bring you guys some joy, too.
Art
🎨 @ofnightsndsongs - Spicy Polaroids
Rated E
🎨 @flymetosnarryland - Muggle London
Rated E
🎨 @ac1d6urn - The Bravest Man
Rated T
🎨 @danipantsu - Tailormade
Rated G
Podfic
🎙️Things We Wish For by @avioleta (AO3)
Podfic by JocundaSykes
Rated E, 2 hours
Harry blinks. Blinks again. It doesn’t make sense. It’s simply not possible. But yet… “Snape?” It’s not the Snape Harry knows or remembers. Not the Snape Harry grieved. But he would know that face, that profile, those eyes anywhere. “What happened?” he manages. “How are you here?”
🎙️ World Enough, and Time by @likelightinglass (AO3) - a Podfic
Podfic by Cailynwrites
Rated T, 40 minutes
Soulmate clocks start ticking when you first lock eyes, and count down until your time with them is over. Harry’s starts ticking on September 1st, 1991. He has only six years, eight months, and one day.
Fic + Art
🌸 The Curse of Anteros - @danpuff-ao3 (AO3) / @mrviran (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 53k
When Harry is cursed, he seeks out Severus Snape. They have a long history behind them, after all, and they've always had so much between them. Who else would he go to?
🌸 A Step into the Light - @givereadersahug (AO3) / @gullibert (AO3) / @dandelionstars (AO3)
Rated NR, Word Count 10k
Severus Snape is now a free man. He fills his time travelling the world, collecting potion ingredients, and helping Luna with her business. The thing is, Severus has a gift. No, not potions or the Dark arts. He can see mushi, creatures that show up from time to time. Severus knows how to help them and the humans that come into contact with them. This time, their travels take them to an island off the coast of Japan, to a man sitting on a log, staring out into the ocean and waiting for his wife to return home.
Inspired by the anime Mushishi. A retelling of Season 1, Episode 8.
For the Snape Bang 2022.
🌸 The Ugliest Veela - Octroman
Rated E, Word Count 60k
Snape is part-veela. It is interfering with his dating life.
Post-war, Severus Snape finds himself in a life without purpose. In a desperate bid for the family he always wanted, he subjugates himself to a matchmaking service in hopes to find an acceptable partner. However, it is mandatory to disclose veela status in order to use the premiere matchmaker of the old family houses.
Wrinkled, sallow, oily, big-nosed, and bony, Severus shows up for a string of horrific dates where potential partners expect him to be both gorgeous and enchanting. “I thought veelas were supposed to be beautiful!” Cue the jokes.
How much humiliation can Severus stand?
---------------------------------------
Illustrated chapter titles and crafted with love.
Fic
📚 A Series of Events - @babygray (AO3)
Rated M, Word Count 67k
In January, the impossible occurred. It took Severus until April to realize just what that was, and to believe.
Snarry Mpreg, takes place during Half-Blood Prince.
📚 A Trick of the Mind - @vulnerasanenturmyprince (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 40k
Ever since the horcrux in his head is gone, Legilimency comes easy to Harry. It’s nearly laughable how easy it is, considering how much he used to struggle with it back in his fifth year. But he reckons half of that had been Snape’s fault anyway. Who on earth would enjoy the nasty git invading their mind?
But as life as Harry has known it changes, Harry’s opinion on the matter changes with it ― rather drastically so if he’s being perfectly honest.
📚 Blowing Smoke - DawnOfTomorrow
Rated E, Word Count 231k
Harry doesn't care about Snape beyond having to sit detentions with the man despite being of age. He doesn't. He asks him out for a drink just to get out of detention. So what if it's... nice? So what if they become friends? So what if Snape *is* lonely?
It's not Harry's problem - at least not until he realises he's accidentally befriended the man, and just how much he cares for Snape.
Well, shit.
📚 Close Encounters - @bleedcolor (AO3) & @likelightinglass (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 35k
Years after the war, Harry Potter and Severus Snape meet and fall in lust, then love.
Too bad they don’t know who they’ve fallen for.
📚 Curatio - @serenaew (AO3)
Rated T, Word Count 12k
curatio, onis, f
noun
1. healing/curing
2. object of care
3. treatment, surgical operation, medical care
At the foot of the Whomping Willow, there lay an injured kingfisher.
Now with moodboard (chapter 2)!
📚 Date In A Dash - @silvereye5 (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 16k
Harry and Severus accidentally attend the same speed dating event.
📚 Fuck, Marry, Kill - @titconao3 (AO3)
Rated T, Word Count 13.2k
After the war, Harry Potter and Severus Snape, er, fuck sometimes. You know, it just happens; it's one of these things. They're not in a relationship, right? They're not like that.
...Until they are, but only one of them can see it.
📚 Gold Like Ichor, Gold Like Magic - @dandelionstars (AO3)
Rated M, Word Count 26k
Seven years after Harry James Potter was left unceremoniously on the doorstep to Number Four, Privet Drive, Vernon Dursley was offered a promotion and the whole family had to move to Cokeworth, England. While Dudley is off terrorizing the local children, Harry spends his days in the school library and finds a fast friend in Ms. Eileen Prince.
From Cokeworth to Hogwarts and back again, this is a story about the friendship, the magic, and the love that can be found in the unlikeliest of places, if only one bothers to look.
📚 Hawthorn Branches in Spring - zalil
Rated T, Word Count 37.5k
Harry returns to Hogwarts to finish school properly and sit for his NEWTs. He doesn't expect Snape to be back teaching, nor their old animosity to resurface. When it is pointed out to him that he is responsible for it, he sets out to change their relationship for the better. The results have more of an impact on him than he expected.
📚 Little Monkeys - Lilian
Rated T, Word Count 15.7k
"There might be a chance that maybe, perhaps, Severus went too far this whole ‘exile far away from the Wizarding World’ thing. Because however he tries to frame it, it comes down to this: after nine years of being completely alone, the first time he stays with another person, he’s plotting to steal said person’s children."
📚 Loose Ends - @arrisha-ao3 (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 9.8k
I love you, Severus wants to say. But the timing is never right.
📚 Lovers Reunited - Now with a special buff! - @hereiamwithmyninjaclan (AO3)
Rated T, Word Count 10k
MMORPGs are a fun way to pass the time and spend time with your friends- and hey, Harry might just find true love along the way.
Beta'd by the lovely @silverdrip
📚 Not Giving In - @hippocrates460 (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 38.7k
Harry comes back from his holiday to a stack of memos on his desk that all say the same thing: "Severus Snape adopted Teddy Lupin."
Snape. No one has seen him since the war trials ended, no one knows where he lives, no one knows why he took Teddy. And what happened to Andromeda? Harry is determined to be a good godfather and sort it all out. Even if it means dealing with Snape.
Title from Better Son/Daughter, because Nanette.
📚 Professional Strippers - @coconutice22 (AO3)
Rated T, Word Count 6k
At Uncle Vernon’s funeral, Aunt Petunia asks Harry for a favour.
📚 Snowed in with Severus - @maraudersaffair (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 32.5k
In eighth year, Harry decides to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. He sets out to spend the time with Professor Snape, but after a magical accident, they find themselves stranded alone in a snowy cabin with no way out and only one bed.
📚 Sudden Light - @liladiurne (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 48k
Seven years after the war, in the dead of winter, Severus Snape meets a beautiful stranger on a train. Inevitably, he falls in love.
Inspired by D.G. Rossetti and Paul Celan and based on the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
📚 The Beating of This Fragile Heart - @writcraft (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 33k
After the war, the last thing Severus Snape needs is the memory of a fleeting wartime kiss and a very persistent Harry Potter thwarting his plans to live a peaceful and solitary life. It’s only when Harry’s life is endangered that Severus is finally forced to confront his feelings head on.
📚 the Boy Who Lubed - @swoontodeath (AO3)
Rated M, Word Count 7k
Desperate to pass his N.E.W.T. in Potions, Harry Potter joins a secretive Discord server run by a Potioneering expert known only as the Half-Blood Prince.
What will happen when Severus Snape, full-time Potions Professor and part-time Discord mod, realises that the newest addition to his server is none other than his least favourite student?
📚 The Half-Blood and the Prince - @tax-onomic (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 6.5k
“It’s just a book, Harry.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“But… you’ve got a crush on a book, mate. That’s a bit much. You need a girlfriend.” She tapped the name on the first page thoughtfully. “Or perhaps a boyfriend?”
📚 The Measure of a Man - @ac1d6urn (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 50k
Several years after defeating Voldemort, Junior Auror Harry Potter discovers himself and, at the risk of losing his childhood love, follows the truth. Through it all, Snape is an unexpected solace. Will he become more?
📚 The Want of You - @fleetingdesires (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 7.3k
On his night off, Severus unexpectedly realises that Harry has grown into quite an attractive man.
He's just not going to think too hard about it. No, he's not going to think about him at all. It's fine. He's fine. Everything is fine.
📚 Thirteen and a half inches - @loneamaryllis (AO3)
Rated E, Word Count 8.3k
The Marauder's Map shows a number above some people's head. Harrie investigates what it means.
📚 You Were Myth-Taken - @hokee101 (AO3)
Rated T, Word Count 23.8k
When vampire attacks hit Hogsmeade, Severus Snape is the prime suspect. With Harry and Albus not taking these accusations seriously and the students threatening to expose him at every turn, this term was going to be just fangtastic.
Discord || Recs Lists
#house of snarry#snarry#snarry fanfiction#severus x harry#harry x severus#snarry fanfic#snarry fanart#pro snape#snarry rec list#snarry recs#snarry podfic#house of snarry rec lists#Severus snape#harry James potter
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Wind tunnel testing was so draining using so much electricity that it would deplete the electricity for an entire town .
This one-twelfth-scale Blackbird wind tunnel test article sits proudly on display at Blackbird Airpark in Palmdale, California. It was used for initial wind tunnel testing after the CIA awarded the A-12 contract to Lockheed on September 14, 1959. I would love to “borrow” this beautiful model and hang it in my home.
The model is constructed of a rugged, heavy stainless steel. To save money, the model was developed with three interchangeable forebody sections, representing the A-12, SR-71, and YF-17. The aft body of all the Blackbird aircraft are essentially the same. All you had to do was replace the nose and you would have a different air frame.
Reading in Ben Rich‘s book, the “Skunk Works” Rich logged hundreds of ($10,000 to $15,000 an hour) wind testing the Blackbird . Wind tunnel tests help inventors and manufacturers better understand the nature of the flow of air over and around a vehicle or object, as well as the effects it causes on that object, especially aerodynamic forces. Ben would travel north to Moffett Field and test at NASA Ames Research Center” We found that running Mach 3 pressures for several hours drains so much of the electricity that was needed by local industry that we were forced to test only late at night, working until dawn.’’ In other words, the local businesses and homes would not having enough electricity. It was that draining. Ben Rich, and his group would then travel back down to the Skunk Works in Southern California. Ben literally did not have time to sleep! His hard work paid off Ben was the designer of the engine's inlets that would move backwards up to three feet to position it’s shockwave to minimize drag. Ben later designed the F117. Check out this one minute video.
TAP ARROW BUTTON TO VIEW 👇
m.youtube.com/watch?si=3sOS7…
youtube
Written by Linda Sheffield
Source, the “Skunk Works”
Habu, by Curt Mason
@Habubrats71 via Twitter
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journey to the void state ⭐️
- a log of my attempts so far
first attempt some time in september the night my bestfriend told me what the void was. as soon as i felt tired, i instantly started affirming for the void. i felt my body shoot up and start flying. a flew for what felt like maybe a 30 seconds before i realized my body was paralyzed and i was experiencing sleep paralysis. i started having hallucinations (auditory and visual) thinking i could see outside of my body and that my brother came into my room and flashing my lights to wake me up. as a constant victim of sleep paralysis, i knew this wasn't real so i tired to ignore it, but it wouldn't stop so i ended up getting up to check if he was really there.
second attempt way less eventful. just felt the bed rocking back and forth. darkness slightly expanded behind my eyelids.
attempts shortly after this just included fingers tingling, darkness expanding or sleep paralysis being too torturous to continue.
october 6th i used a theta waves video and laid on my back in the dark, imagined a screen in my mind and counted down from 12 while imagining the numbers in different fonts to help me focus, counted down from 12 without the screen or picturing the numbers, counted to 100 to reach the void state and affirmed for the void after each number. i could feel myself becoming more relaxed and focused as i began to count the numbers without imagining a screen. then i started counting up to 100, as i got to 30 my body felt as if it was rocking and then i felt as if i was spinning in my bed constantly. i continued to affirm for the void and began telling myself “at 100 i will reach the void” by 70 i felt as if i was spinning at the end of a pendulum and could no longer feel my body or focus on anything besides counting and affirming. had to calm myself from how excited i was getting. by number 80, i realized my phone wasn’t on do not disturb when I received multiple texts from someone. this ended my session :(
october 7th i used the same method as the night previously. was constantly spinning, but was unable to reach the void at 100. i just kept spinning until i gave up. it didn’t feel as intense as the previous night though.
october 8th-9th no attempt made. will continue tonight.
⭐️ i am the void. i am pure consciousness. all of my desires are mine. ⭐️
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Song Of The Misty Mountains (Rhett Abbott x Reader)
Summary: You and Rhett live for the nights in early spring when the family can be together
Warnings: Mentions of adoption, birth etc.
Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @callmemana @withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @sebsxphia @bradleybeachbabe
"Good God I hate cleaning the kitchen," you muttered, scraping the last of the dinner scraps into the garbage can next to the sink.
"At least ya'll don't have to clean the bathroom," Cecelia chuckled. "I swear I have to call a NEST team to come and fumigate every time one or both of those idiots in the living room eats at the Bakshis' restaurant."
"Hah! Better than eating Dad's chili," Joy laughed as she collected the dishes.
You made a face and feigned a gagging noise. The last time you had Art Hawk's chili was at a summer cookoff at Amy and Rose's school during the summer fair and the upstairs bathroom had never been the same since, but damn was it good with a big hunk of cornbread.
You, Cecelia, Joy, Martha, Beth, Monica and the others cleared away and cleaned up the rest of the dishes from dinner, hoping to be able to finally relax as you all filled each other in on the goings on in each others lives.
"Literally cannot wait for summer," Martha Hawk laughed as she helped you scrub the dishes in the sink. "First year Rosie gets to dance in the powwows and my mom's coming down from Idaho."
"And to boot, you get the summer off," you told her.
Martha laughed, an excited squeak making its way in. She was more than excited to be joining you at the school as your teaching assistant in the lower grades and excited at the prospects of finally having summers off again. As soon as Amy's case had officially closed when she turned a year old, Martha had decided a change of field was more than needed.
"Alright, time for a game of fridge tetris," Beth laughed.
You and the girls laughed and chattered away with Amy and Rose popping in and out of the kitchen every couple of minutes. You couldn't believe that the two of them would be starting kindergarten in September. It had seemed like yesterday that you and Rhett had brought Amy home with Rosie arriving barely three days later. Four years had gone by a little too fast and at the beginning of July, the girls would both be turning five.
Once everything was done and settled, the dishes washed, dried and put away, into the living room you went where the men of the family had already gathered and had gotten the fire going in the fireplace. The logs crackled, hissed, spit and snapped as sparks and embers flew up the chimney but the living room was as warm and cozy as ever. The grass outside was coated in the thinnest layer of hoarfrost, a sign that March would soon give way to April and the promise of spring that would soon be coming.
Everyone chattered away, shooting the shit between each other while John disappeared and came back every so often with a drink of choice. "God I live for these nights," he said, taking his spot next to Royal. "Fire crackling away, wind blowing outside and Manhattan in one hand."
The front door creaked open and shut with Billy and Shania Tillerson kicking off their shoes near the rack and joining everybody in the living room. "S'f-f'f-fuckin cold out," Billy shuddered.
"Well here ya big knucklehead, take this!" Cecelia said, tossing the wooly throw blanket his way.
"Thanks Cece," Shania said as soon as she caught it and put it around her and Billy.
Everyone went about their business until Rose and Amy came barreling in, begging for Royal or someone to read them a story.
"Alright, alright, ya'll get on over here," Royal said, finally giving in to their request.
Rose and Amy took their places on the living room rug, the others listening eagerly as Amy handed Royal her copy of "The Hobbit", a story that Rhett had loved growing up, second only to "The Indian In The Cupboard" of course.
Royal began to read aloud, both the girls and everyone in the room listening intently. You and Rhett huddled close together as he read, mesmerized by how well Royal could do the character voices. You had all nearly lost track of the time when his mother's grandfather clock in the hallway rang in the hour of 8:30.
"Alright you two, upstairs," Royal told them. "C'mon, it's bedtime."
Amy and Rose hurried upstairs on his orders, rushing to their room and leaving the others downstairs.
Royal threw another log onto the fire, hissing as it split open and released its sharp scent throughout the room. He hummed as he placed another one in there, low and droning as John joined in along with Thomas, Mo and Art and the rest of them. It wasn't long before you heard those familiar words filling the room, words that spoke of far off mountains, wizards, dwarves and hidden treasure deep in lands unexplored.
"Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,
To find our long-forgotten gold.
The pines were roaring on the height,
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazed with light."
Their voices were almost like that of the dwarves themselves, deep and droning in the night as they sang. You and the girls all joined in as the fire crackled away and the sky outside was tinted deep shades of red and pink. When it had all gone silenced, you and Rhett heard a pair of giggles coming from the stairs.
"Alright you two, bed! Now!" Rhett ordered.
The girls ran back upstairs, the two of you hoping that would be the only time you would have to say something.
"Think they'll be back down again?" you asked him.
"Only time will tell darlin," Rhett chuckled as he kissed you.
#outer range#rhett abbott#rhett abbott x reader#royal abbott#cecelia abbott#royal x cecelia abbott#amy abbott#joy hawk#martha hawk#rose hawk
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I logged into iNaturalist for the first time in like 10000 years on my computer and
Y'know how I made that 'Naturalists of Color' project? Literally just an impulsive thing for fun? Not even like a high pressure thing I don't even talk in there it's literally just a group I made for the funsies?
Apparently all the way back in September sent me a private message being all like 'ohhhhhhh but diversity is so important so why don't you include white people'
Like. ma'am. Do you do this any time an inkling of the phrase 'Person of Color' or "(Blank) of Color' comes up???? You haven't figured out what it means by now????
Literally in the project description I talk about how sometimes it feels like people of color are excluded from naturalist places or made to feel like they don't belong and yet you're sliding into my DM's like 'okay but what about me though' ma'am this wasn't about you until you made it about you
#out of queue#ani rambles#delete later#maybe#the message is from like september so im not gonna respond to it but like. hoooooomie.#like genuinely i dont even do anything with the project#and all you really do on inat is post pictures of liek Creatures and Plants anyways its not like you're missing out on anything#theres like a gazillion other groups one could join why are you pressed about THIS ONE
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First Devlog?
Hello everyone...boy, there are a lot of you already, still trying to digest that...
So, I gather that I should do these logs on occasion. I do not know how often, perhaps just when I have a few things to say. I will try not to ramble too much, but my fingies like to talk.
Anyway, I am working on chapter 3 right now. There’s some fun moments so far in it that I hope you’ll like, and we’ll get to meet Zahn, Duri'naan, and then Rundis. I’m trying not to rush because there are some exciting scenes that I’m eager to get to. I’ve outlined them to tide myself over until I get that far. There’s some quiet moments you’ll get to have as well, and right now I feel like that’s what I’m struggling with. Those areas of my story are like bridges to the next, more exciting, parts and sometimes I feel like they fall a little flat. But, I’m trying to keep in mind this is my first draft. I’ll go through it another time or two to perk things up. Those moments are still important for letting the MC get to know each RO.
My mind has been in a million directions lately too, and I’ve had a lot of ‘duh’ moments. I’ve done so much world building since I started this last year (around August/September I think), that I have pockets of important details that I kinda just forgot! So, I plan to re-read all the notes I’ve made and try to also put them into one place. I have some in my phone, in a notebook, and in no less than three folders on my laptop. It’s a wonder I have survived this many years…
What you can expect for coming updates…
-A couple fixes, of course – thank you to those who found some of those pesky buggy bois for me.
-A nicer front page, instead of being slapped with my ramblings, I’d like to actually have a nice start page. I’ll figure it out eventually, lol.
-I’ll be adding a name bank to the MC’s Nameday scene that will also show you what each name means, so if that is important to you, it’ll save you the internet search. If it tickles your fancy, the name selection will correspond in some way to the marks (names meaning "night" or "storm," etc.) so you can theme your MC a bit.
-Extra coding in case you decide to shorten MC’s given name to just “Ravi.” I did not once consider that anyone would do this, and my first play-tester – my own spouse – did….He told me about it since it made some dialog with Oswin make zero sense, and then I published the story without fixing it because I completely forgot about it.
-Different contrast color for dark mode links. I feel like I have drastically improved this with a new gold color. In retrospect, I don’t know why I didn’t use the gold before. I love it as an accent, I use it all over! The blue never felt 100% right, but my brain shut down after thinking about it too long. Here’s a sample and a (M) Zahn tease:
When can you expect an update?
I’d like to make my next update during the Amare Games Festival, ideally containing both chapters 3 and 4 since they go pretty tightly together. This will also insure that you meet the rest of the posse. It’s a tall order for both chapters to be submitted on time, and I don’t want to rush them either, but I’m going to try really really hard, lol. I will focus first on polishing chapter 3, so that no matter what, I can at least get it out in time.
Here’s a link to the post about it:
And this is the submission time frame: open from March 31st 2024 at 11:00 PM to May 1st 2024 at 12:00 AM
As a side message, should you want to read on…
I also wanted to give you all a big, like really big, heartfelt thank you. I have received so many kind messages and comments that I just can’t believe it. I am so happy (and honestly, genuinely shocked) that you’re enjoying my IF, and I’m motivated to work hard so you also enjoy each new chapter of your journey. There’s so many secrets I want to share with you about the world, and I am struggling to be patient myself, lol.
I am not usually a very open or social person, and I was scared for a long time to share anything I wrote. I reached a point in my personal life in the last few years where I just needed to embrace what I loved to do and share it with a community that shares in that love. I encourage you to do the same whether there is a story in your heart, music on your lips, or a paintbrush in your hands. Life is NOT about your 8-5. We may not be able to survive without it, but whatever moment you can, do what you actually love. Put away the those things that don’t matter, the things that stress you - including people, and make time for who you are.
Thank you all and take care!
~Lunan
#if wip#twine if#twine wip#interactive novel#god cursed if#if game#interactive fiction#gc if devlog#amare game#amare
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Guess That Ship Tournament S6: Submission Closed
The concept: You describe your ship* to me, I pick out the submissions which I find most compelling and pit them against each other without revealing who they are, people vote on them, and their identities gets revealed once they're eliminated.
Submission Guidelines
*For the purpose of this tournament, relationships do not have to be romantic in nature. I'm sometimes going to use "ship" as a shorthand, just know I mean "relationships" in general.
Relationship can be between any number of characters.
Real people are accepted if they've been dead for more than 100 years.
Roleplay characters are accepted as long as the description only pertains to the characters and not the players.
OCs are accepted.
One submission per person. (I cannot enforce this on google form without forcing you to log in. So just be champs and respect this rule.)
Summary Guidelines
Here's the selection process: Me or another judge is going to read through the list of descriptions submitted without looking at their names, we're gonna pick the most compelling submissions, then we check the name to make sure there's no repeats.
Keep it concise. Some preference will be given to shorter entries during this round of selection.
Previous submissions for reference.
Descriptions should be based on canon, not headcanon. (Eg. You can say "they love each other" instead of "they're lovers" if their romantic nature is debatable.)
Use canonical pronouns.
Avoid identifying information or setting specific giveaways. (ie. Ninja village, space necromancers.)
The more popular your ship is the more vague the description should be.
Exclusions
Ships which were previously selected will no longer be accepted. You don't have to go through the whole list, just hit ctrl+f and search for your characters' names before you write a submission.
I will also not be including any submission from Harry Potter, sorry.
Notes
I will not vet the ships/pairings for problematic content.
If you participate in this tournament, know that you run the risk of unintentionally voting for your nOTP. The mod does not take any responsibility for any distress that may cause you.
I'm currently running @bestadaptationtournament, I believe I should be able to manage 2 at the same time... Buuuut it might mean this tournament will start a bit later and there might be some gaps between rounds.
Submit your nominations here. Submission will open for 48 hours, until September 3rd, 7PM EST.
I'd appreciate it if you can reblog this post, especially if you've never done so in the past. I'm hoping to get some new eyes for this round.
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THE PHILON AWARDS ARE BACK!
KiScon is honoured to announce the relaunch of the Philon Awards. Established by Jenna Sinclair and Shelley Butler in 1997, they were an annual event organised by The K/S Press to honour outstanding authors and artists in K/S fandom. With the permission and support of Jenna and Shelley, KiScon is resuming this beautiful tradition.
There are 8 categories:
Short fic (word count under 10K)
Long fic (word count 10K-50K)
Novella/novel (word count over 50K)
Podfic
Traditional Art
Digital Art
Poetry
Zines
For each category the voters will determine a Gold (first place) and a Silver (second place) winner.
Rules
Nominating and Voting:
Nominations are open until 31 August, 2023. Each fan can nominate up to 3 works per category, but you cannot nominate the same work twice.
For a work to make it onto the voting ballot, it needs at least 3 nominations. Before we add it to the ballot, we will get in touch with the creator to ask whether they are fine with this!
Voting is open from 10 September to 1 November, 2023.
The winners will be announced during KiScon 2023. Each winner will receive a certificate and a small prize.
Nominating and voting both take place via Google Forms, and you need to be logged in in order to submit the form; this ensures that people do not nominate or vote multiple times for the same work. If we suspect sockpuppet activity, we will get in touch for clarification. We keep the nomination and voting process completely confidential! Only the KiScon concom will see the submitted forms.
You can submit the nominations form only once, but you can edit your responses if you need to add or change something (just follow the link in the email you receive after submitting the form). Please make sure to include every fanwork you want to see on the shortlist. You cannot edit your responses after nominations have closed.
Fanworks:
The work must focus on the pairing Kirk/Spock or Kirk & Spock. Slash (romantic and/or sexual relationship) and gen (friendship) are equally eligible. If a fic includes Kirk and/or Spock in relationships with other characters, be they canonical or original, this does not disqualify the work for the Philon Awards, as long as the focus is clearly on Kirk and Spock's relationship.
Art must feature Kirk or Spock or both of them; additional characters in the artwork are allowed, but no depiction of Kirk/Other or Spock/Other.
All universes are welcome: TOS (series and movies), TAS, and reboot, Discovery and Strange New Worlds. AUs and mirror universe are equally allowed. Crossovers between different Trek franchises or between Trek and other media are permitted, as long as Kirk and Spock are the work’s main characters.
RPF works (e.g. Shatnoy) are not eligible.
All ratings and genres are allowed. If a work among your nominations includes strong elements that would merit a warning on the AO3 (e.g. rape, major character death etc.), we'd appreciate a heads-up on the nominations form, so that we can make sure to include the warning on the shortlist.
The work must be complete. It can be part of a series, but the work itself must not be a WIP (missing chapters or a draft/unfinished sketch).
The work must have been created and published (print or online) after KiScon 2022. So everything from 7 November 2022 onwards until the end of the nomination phase (31 August 2023) is eligible. Reprints or uploads of earlier works (e.g. a fic you wrote and published a few years ago and uploaded to the AO3 only recently) cannot take part in this contest.
For podfic the creation/publication date of the actual podfic counts, not of the written fic that inspired it.
AI-generated fic is NOT allowed.
Traditional art means that it was hand-drawn or hand-painted; scanning or photographing the finished work in order to publish it online is allowed, of course.
With digital art, we mean art that was created by a fan artist directly on a tablet or computer, or art that started out as hand-drawn and underwent significant digital alterations in the next steps. We do NOT allow AI-generated art! Manips based on still images or photos of the actors are not eligible in this contest.
Zines: Both e-zines and print zines published between 7 November 2022 and 31 August 2023 are eligible.
Last but not least: these awards are meant to be fun and a celebration of the K/S fandom. The shortlist will double as lovely rec list! We get to talk about our faves and let the creators know that we love their works.
You can fill in the nominations form embedded on the KiScon website, or (if your device does not display it properly) you can find it directly at this link.
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Sheriff of Nottingham x reader: Dream
Title: Dream
Pairing: Sheriff of Nottingham x Guy of Gisbourne's wife.
Wordcount: 551
Warnings: some angst and pining. Nothing about reader's appearance is mentioned, only that she's a woman.
Written as part of self-indulgent September, for the prompt 'dream'. This is not strictly a self-ship drabble, but I thought I'd publish it anyway :)). Hope you enjoy!
Divider by saradika.
Sheriff woke with a start. No tolling of the church bells, no yelling guards, no clatter of sword fighting, no crying women. The night was quiet and dark. Above his bed, to the left, was a small window and silver moonlight streamed in. The only sounds he heard were the blowing of the wind and the rustling of his sheets as threw them off to sit at the edge of his bed. The fireplace crackled in the corner of the room, keeping the room warm enough during the cold late summer nights.
He sighed deeply. Just a dream... Another dream of her. Another one with a bitter ending, one that left him with his chest heaving and the sheets soaked with sweat. Looking at the window, it was still before the end of first sleep, so he got up and stretched. Mortiana would advice him if he asked, but nothing could help with the feeling he was left with after a dream like this.
During it, the secret apple of his eye was struck down by a wayward arrow from one of his terribly incompetent men. He saw his cousin Guy scream, run to her, kneel down and sob as he held her, blood flowing down her dress onto the stone ground. And George could only sit and stare from atop his horse, not knowing what to do - until rage made it's way to the surface, and he brutally cut down that failure of a marksman.
He closed his eyes, reliving the dream as its fragments already split apart like a pane of glass breaking. If only his cousin would perish in battle, and he'd be the shoulder his widow came to cry on. He'd be so gentle with her, so sweet. He'd wrap her in a warmth she's not seen while being with Guy, show her a life she could have only dream of.
He knew how wrong it was, and more than that he felt shame, he knew that it could affect his reputatin. If he played his cards wrong, both would suffer the consequences of that. She deserved better than a messy start of their relationship. After all, that's all he dreamt of. Of ways he could give her the world. She'd be his queen. She'd enjoy luxuries beyond compare, as long as she'd remain by his side. He knew she would. He tried it, before her and Guy were married, he tried seducing her, but she only had eyes for his cousin.
Thinking of that time, how it was for him those years ago, set his temper ablaze yet again. The unfairness of it! He went to the fireplace, taking the poker and stabbed the logs restlessly, a deep frown in between his brows. How could she prefer Guy over him? That stupid good-for-nothing idiot! Guy just got to her first... Well, George is the one who would last. And once he's planned something to get rid of Guy, once it's all through, she'd be glad that place in his arms was still free. The fire roared, before calming down, and George stared at it, hoping the rest of his sleep would be dreamless. It's already enough for her to plague his waking hours and he'd need the rest if he wanted his plan to be foolproof.
#sheriff of nottingham x reader#sheriff of nottingham#george of nottingham#george of nottingham x reader#robin hood: prince of thieves#robin hood (1991)
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