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tavyliasin · 5 months

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Welcome, Raphael Fans ;)

My little ramble may have resonated a bit, so I feel like recklessly re-sharing my Fiend-centric Fic Chapters~ I will likely just update and reblog this as needed. This is taking forever to check over to compile... This should be a relatively comprehensive list and is 99% NSFW so 18+ only. Links currently will take you to the chapters on Tumblr, but my newer side blog @atavsguide will be reposting anything from my ongoing fic work as FULL chapters every day for the next couple of weeks~ That side blog is only being used for full chapter reblogs so those without AO3 have somewhere to read them, and I might make a second one for the other one shots etc~

Chapters from A Tav's Guide

ATG is my ongoing fic centred on f!Tav x Astarion until the act 2 conversation, where they agree that love and lust can be entirely separate, allowing Tav to explore other opportunities for sex with the arrangement that she will write about it in her diary to share later. Rough premise, I know, but it works to allow a fun and smutty story~ Raphael and Haarlep feature a fair few times so far, especially when their appearances were far too fun.

ATG 4 - Dream? Nightmare.

Tav is having trouble sleeping, but eventually manages to drift off. Her dreams, however, are far from restful when a certain devil decides to dance through her sleep. CW and Tags - None, aside from mild powerplay dynamics. ---

ATG 7 - Love? Lust.

Raphael needs to let off some steam, and if there's one thing Haarlep knows it is exactly how to do it. There's no room for any emotional connection beyond pure undiluted physical desire, wants tempted and needs met, and it seems a raised temper can indeed spice things up a little. CW and Tags - Hate sex, Brat Raphael, Dom Haarlep, light BDSM, oral sex, biting, bondage ---

ATG 9 - Mouse? Rat.

Tav breaks in to the House of Hope desperate for help, but all she finds is...Raphael? No, that's not him... Haarlep is bored, but luckily a Little Mouse stumbles in to their room, lost and alone. But are they a Mouse? Or perhaps more of a Rat? Tav discovers the downsides to avarice and hubris, biting off far more than she can chew this time. Part 1 of 2 CW and Tags - BDSM, Aphrodisiacs, Bratty Tav, Dom Haarlep, bondage, whipping, mild blood

ATG 10 - Cat? Claw.

Part 2 of 2 Raphael arrives back in his boudoir to find Haarlep busy with an uninvited guest, one who has taken in far too much aphrodisiac and requires relief from that particular issue. He is loathe to help, but Haarlep has their ways to convince him. CW and Tags - BDSM, bondage, group sex, power play, aftercare, transforming during sex,

ATG 11 Deal? Done.

Part 1 of 2 Haarlep is bored again, and finds a fun little scroll to use with Tav. But it'll take a deal before the plan can work fully... Tav finds herself enticed by an interesting prospect, and decides to put her own spin on the deal before her. CW and Tags - Shape changing, power play, BDSM

ATG 12 - Friday? Freaky.

Part 2 of 2 Raphael comes home to find the "Archduchess" mocking him as usual, despite not asking Haarlep to take that form. Still, he is easily mislead by clever words and an illusion that none of them will soon forget. Tav plays her part well and is rewarded by an intense night of pleasure, and the sight of Raphael on his knees before her is a more than pleasant bonus. CW and Tags - Alter Self, threeway sex, bondage, power play, tails, switching, Dom Tav, sub Tav, Dom Raphael, sub Raphael, Dom Haarlep, body double, aftercare

Tricks and Treats in the House of Hope - An ATG Side Story, Halloween Special

Not placed in the main timeline, this is after a point where Halsin and Astarion are firmly in a poly relationship with Tav and both comfortable in sex. Meant to be a Halloween Special short it ran long. Haarlep holds a costume party, where almost everyone is invited. The guests quickly remember their host is an incubus as the events take a turn for the delicious. CW and Tags - Sex toys, group sex, biting, blood, double penetration, BDSM, heavier bondage, brat, brat taming, costumes, orgy

ATG Winter Holiday Special - The Fiend's Feast

Another special so not in the timeline, but after the Halloween special. Haarlep is hosting another party, and even though they knew what to expect this time the guests are still caught by surprise with a few little gifts from the incubus. CW and Tags - group sex, orgy, bondage, power play, biting, blood, control, mild knife play

ATG Side Story - Villain? Saviour.

The last side story so far, Raphael swoops in at the last moment to save Tav from an untimely demise, and finds himself...caring? No, that can't be right...can it? A softer side to Raphael, until he realises the incubus has poisoned the healing potions with their devious plans. CW and Tags - implied aphrodisiac, power play, hurt/comfort, willpower bondage

The Prequel Series - Scent of Cinnamon

With only 2 chapters so far (but more to follow), this is my newest series, a prequel to the games intending to follow from the first meeting of Raphael and Haarlep until the beginning of the game. It may synch to ATG canon, but will otherwise focus far more on the Cambion and the incubus and the relationship they share.

The Cambion, The Gift, and The Contract

The very first meeting, also establishing Haarlep before they became Haarlep and what they looked like. The incubus steps in to the mansion in Avernus to meet their new Master, the one they've been sent to spy on, carrying nothing but the clothes on their back and specific instructions. They don't even have a name any more, trading everything away for the promise of far greater rewards if they succeed. Meanwhile, a young Raphael does not have time or patience to entertain the idea of another attempted distraction, until they both realise there might just be a way that both can get what they want. All it takes is a little contract... CW and Tags - Mostly talking but sets up the premise, slow burn, devilish deals

The Contract, The Kiss, and The Cambion’s Pride

The talking is over, the deal must now be seen through. Raphael gets a taste of what the incubus can do, while the newly named Haarlep claims ownership of their own Master, ensuring he will remember every inch of their body when they give it up to become his double as they both agreed. This includes Haarlep giving Raphael a taste of both forms they can take, to ensure nothing about them can be forgotten. CW and Tags - Oral sex, mild choking, genderfluid character, changing physical form, power play, BDSM, sub!Raphael, Dom!Haarlep, rough oral sex, mild blood, light choking

One Shots and Shorts

Short Drabbles (Mixed)

These are all mixed chapters, but several feature Raphael and/or Haarlep. Many are only a few paragraphs or a page at most. Tavs are unique to these works and not part of continuity Brat Raphael - Haarlep lacks patience. How To Tease A Devil - f!Tav and Haarlep enjoy playing with a submissive Raphael. Raphael Being Bad At Sex - f!Tav finally gets to sleep with Raphael instead of Haarlep and finds it isn't the same. Self Indulgence With Devils - Raphael and Haarlep tease f!Tav The Devil On Your Shoulder - Second Person, Haarlep helps inspire "you" to write. The Muse's Return - Second Person, "you" have been struggling to write recently, but luckily Haarlep is home to help... Confession: The Devil Gets His Due - inspired by a confession blog, power bottom Dom!Raphael demands m!Tav satisfies him. The Shrew Who Tamed The Incubus - Haarlep is surprised by m!OC Shrew as he seeks only warmth and care, not sex. Soft, warm, loving...Haarlep is confused but fine with it. The Morning After The Artist's Dreams - Inspired by a Tumblr artist. An artist wakes up in Haarlep's bed to find the incubus perched on the end suggestively. ---

Gala of the Damned

Raphael needs to attend a ball for the powerful and influential fiends of the Nine Hells, but he needs a date. Haarlep reluctantly takes on their Archduchess form, wearing a corset and overall far too many clothes for their liking. Later, Haarlep makes a corset out of Raphael with cruel metal hooks and ribbon, taking what they feel is owed for the night. CW and Tags - BDSM, power play, bondage, hooks, piercings, pain play

The Mouse Trap

f!Tav goes a little far in pushing Raphael, working to her favour as he shows a far more dominant side. CW and tags - Dom!Raphael, BDSM, Pain Play, blood, brat, impatient sex, power play

The Sleepless Dream

2nd person short fic, where Haarlep is "your" sleep paralysis demon. CW and Tags - Insomnia, Teasing, Power play

----------------------------- ----------------------------- COMPLETE LIST AS OF 4th January 2024 ----------------------------- -----------------------------

For a full list of ALL of my works, including word counts, pairings, and summaries, please check out my Carrd! I keep it up to date with each new link.

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beehop · 2 years

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ugh got an offer auto rejected on ebay and now i feel like i was an asshole for lowballing as much as i did. hate it here.

#it was my first offer i ever put in on anything on ebay so ofc i'm overthinking the shit out of it #it was for shinee's odd #a used copy #i had to ask the seller for photos and it has what looks like an f8 written on the cover with white pencil #so er i offered $15 on their $30 listing #bc not only does it have something written on it it also has used album wear and tear #significantly more than the second cheapest odd listing on ebay right now which is only $35 #if i wanted to spend nearly $40 on an used album i would get the slightly more expensive one in better condition??#i also may have lowballed more bc this wasn't a kpop shop so i was hoping they'd accept it based on my damaged reasoning #without idk realizing its an out of print album and how kpop albums really work #bc it felt like they just priced it based off the other listings #i also dunno if i should respond to their message with the photos even though i put an offer in #feel like i don't know the ''''rules'''' of ebay at all and that's definitely adding to this anxiety and overthinking #its finnnee its finnneee #people must offer low on stuff all the time!!!#$20 total (it was $5 for shipping) is what i decided the album was worth to me in that condition #it will probably be worth more to someone else so they will probably get their $30...whatever #argh #also if you saw a significantly longer post about this no you didn't #i hated how it was worded so i deleted it haha #i will probably hate how half of this is worded too but at least its all in the tags so less people are likely to see it #not that i have that many followers or engagement anyway!!!

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itoshi-s · 2 years

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can I ask you Sae or Kaiser on the weekend at their house with their s/o and can't stop teasing each other before you know 🤭...

I love your writing <3 thank you so much !

hii anon !! went with sae for this one as of i dont write for kaiser ( and i am biased hehe ), hope you like it !!(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭

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*.✧ ft. sae itoshi

*.✧ wc: 4.3k. not proofread. nsfw / 18+ only / minors dni ! - fem reader, sae's a pro player and in his early 20s. mention of masturbation, asphyxiation/choking, hard dom! sae (but turns softer), sae dirty talks a lot, he calls you a whore once :'>, squirting. note: inspired by in heat by hentai xander !!

*.✧ the heatwave takes it's toll on you, but sae doesn't really like excuses.

although rare, there are times where you regret flying to spain with sae.

it’s usually during one of your screaming matches, when he lets his mouth run and says a few words too many. (he’s quick to widen his eyes though at the sight of your wobbling lip, and soon has you in an embrace so strong there is no way you’re going to run away from him.) sometimes, it’s when you two can’t enjoy a peaceful night out, having to leave early because you can see people start to gather outside the club, having heard of the opportunity to see real madrid’s prodigy in the flesh. and then, it’s days like this - when all you can do is lay nearly naked on the once cool sheets, the ac blasting, and yet, your skin still shines with sweat, making the tee you’re wearing nearly see through as it sticks to your flesh.

it’s not like you’re a total wimp - you’ve always liked the humid heat that had so many people visiting spain all year round, and it even made you giddy when you could finally start wearing the skimpy, flowy clothing that back in your hometown, you only got to wear on the few hottest summer days. now, as you nearly feel lightheaded, you figure that 40 degrees celsius might just be the temperature that beats you.

“it’s almost 6 and you still haven’t moved from the bed,” sae sounds amused from his spot on the balcony, glancing at you through the ajar doors. you turn your head to his direction, brows furrowing as you lean up on your forearm.

“you’re letting the heat back in,” you whine, throwing your legs over the edge of the bed as you stand up rapidly. sae seems unbothered at the annoyed expression you wear, instead finishing his unknown iced beverage with a slurp of the straw, only turning your attention to you when his sight of the city below is blocked by that of your bare thighs. “this really doesn’t bother you, not one bit?”

craning his head up to look at you, sae places the glass down and snakes his hands on the behind of your thighs. massaging the flesh, he can feel just how heated your body is - the warmth making his abdomen stir.

“got used to it,” he shrugs, a shadow of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as your hands quickly work on prying his off your legs.

standing between his spread thighs, you are a sight that is just enough to make him harden in his shorts. he has to shift in his seat, hips bucking up momentarily and he knows, sees that your eyes flicker downwards, to where his hard on bulges in the 5 inch inseam shorts.

“gross,” you scrunch your nose, but the slight shudder of your chest tells him otherwise. “don’t even think ‘bout it. i can barely stand in this heat, let alone keep up with you.”

the attitude you’ve been sporting since yesterday, when the temperature started to rise abruptly, has been keeping sae on his toes ever since he first noticed the grimace on your face. now, that you were finally in his arms’ reach and he won’t have to share you with anybody else, it seems like life decided to punish him for all his sins and selfish ways. the first time you rebuffed his efforts, it made annoyance bubble deep within his chest and he had to bite on his tongue as to not say something that’d only push you away further. if there was one thing sae hates, it is to impose on you- it’s all against everything that ever got him going. needing, craving you - wanting you all over him. nothing can rile him up the way your teary eyes do, whimpers and pleads turning to blabbering, muscles aching to touch him - but now, the image seems as far away as it did months ago, when thousand kilometers kept you separated.

kissing his teeth, sae stands up from his seat and delivers a single smack to your bottom, fingers grabbing at the flesh, forcing a yelp from your throat. “watch it,” he quips, a finger sneaking behind the waistband of your thong to playfully snap it back. “you don’t want me joinin’ in.”

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　✧

yeah, you didn’t want him to join your little teasing game. that you know for sure, but you suppose it is too late for regrets now, when the temperature is still breaking the records and yet, sae managed to kindle an even stronger heat inside of you.

you have many things at the back of your head to keep worrying about, but somehow, sae and his presence all around is on the top of the list. now it isn’t just the mind fogging heat you have to suffer from, but also sae and his screwing around and to make it worse, you can’t escape it not even for a minute - you really do feel trapped with the consequences of your very own actions, right in your and sae’s top floor apartment. the heat is bringing you two main obstacles, that you just cannot seem to win over: you cannot leave the house to get back at sae and focus your mind anywhere else (you would quite literally melt), and, similarly, sae can’t leave either, considering the temperature’s high enough to keep people from doing daily tasks outside, yet alone practice and exhaust themselves (unlike you, he is very much thankful for the few obligatory days off). this leaves you in a position where you have to either swallow down your pride, give in to your urges - which feel almost primal to you now - and start begging your boyfriend for even just a lick of his attention.

as if having to admit defeat wasn’t enough, you’re met with a wall that sae managed to build up almost overnight - one that’s made of thick glass, so that it keeps him out of your needy reach, but allows him to stare down at you with a condemning glare, a glint of a smirk on his lips, as if saying see, i told you. you’ve tried just about every trick in the book to ignite the spark in the emerald orbs you’ve grown to love, but it’s all old news to him, it seems, and he doesn’t budge no matter how desperate your efforts are.

or so you think - just because sae doesn’t barge in right through the bathroom door upon hearing the muffled moans as you shower, doesn’t mean that the sound leaves him unbothered. your legs almost kick out involuntarily from the dopamine rush as you feel your walls squeeze at your fingers, orgasm rushing through every nerve and making you keen softly. sae, sae please - he can hear it all, and knows very well that it’s exactly what you wanted of him when you left the door ajar, inviting. he has to grab at the throbbing in his shorts, giving his cock a single squeeze to relieve at least a crumb of the pressure or otherwise, he just might lose his cool and give in to you. he exhales through his nose, the knees that can carry him through the whole field in a flash now feeling weak under his weight as he listens to your moans die down.

the heat doesn’t let up, even though it’s been two days already - the forecast says it should start moving north soon, finally give spain a moment to breathe - but sae’s stubborn, and you know that the tight knot that seems to tighten with each of his looks sent your way won’t come undone anytime soon.

oh, you have no idea how hard this miffed face you’ve put on makes him. he sees you trying, of course he does, the way you started wearing your tiniest cropped tops and some flimsy panties around the house - even though you both know that it’s easier to fight the heat when wearing loose clothing. but if you wore anything else, he wouldn’t have the view of your tits perking up as you stretch, sitting on the other end of the leather brown couch, the underside coming to view and luring him in to touch - and that he knows, too. he’s well aware that each and every time he groped and grabbed at the flesh of your bottom, he’s made it clear just how obsessed he was with the soft muscle there - and now you’re using it against him, as you bend over to reach for something under the sink. if only sae didn’t know just how much of a whore you could be, he’d think that the wet spot on your panties was just his vision playing games with him. but he knows, and yet it doesn’t make it any easier on him to not give up and submit to his need.

you can feel your eyelids grow heavy, struggling to keep your focus on the random movie you’ve put on the tv to kill the time. the sunlight seeps through the blinds, scolding at your heated skin as you shift, clammy skin sticking to the leather brown sofa. you hum softly, head tilting to the side as you hear sae stop by the back of the couch, peeking at the scene playing out on the flat screen. one warm hand rest on the crook of your neck, sending a surprised shiver right down your spine, and your eyes wearily flutter open as you feel sae’s fingers slowly snake around your throat. giving a few light taps to your jugular, he gives no effort into knocking the breath out of your lungs as his hand gently squeezes. you were nearly dozed off just seconds before, but now you’re back awake and alert, heart racing as you feel sae’s hand fully wrap around your neck - a whimper ripping from your throat, thighs rubbing against each other at the thought that this might just be it.

sae almost jolts at the quivering sound, pulling his hand away quickly, “oi,” he mumbles, fighting back a smirk as he notices your shoulders tremble. he got you good. “sorry. i thought you were asleep,” the hand comes back up to ruffle your hair. “won’t disturb you anymore.” and just like that, he’s already walking down the hall, soon disappearing into your bedroom, leaving behind a burn at your neck and a throb between your legs.

the all-time high hits a few hours later, when sae wakes from his afternoon nap and reluctantly gets off the bed, slides padding softly against the hardwood floors. he scratches at the back of his neck, heading to the kitchen to grab a cold drink,

“hey,” he’s greeted by your voice, sweet but hushed, as if the heat sucked all of your energy out and only left a shadow behind. (you’ve always been so soft when tired - it always made him press kisses to your reddened cheeks and just below your glassy eyes.) sae gives a small nod and notices the bright blue popsicle in your hand, eyes moving from the iced treat upwards, to your face - just in time as your tongue lolls out to take a long lick.

sucking a breath in, he forces a smile, “hm, you took the last one,” he notes, turning his back to you as he grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it with tap water.

“yeah,” you hum, slurping, and sae feels his knees buckle.he keeps up his act, leaning back against the marble counter as you lock eyes. the juice is leaking down your fingers and you move to lick it off, a slow lap up your hand, “m’sorry, sae.” red starts to seep into his view, gaze zeroed on your tongue as it works around the tip of the lolly. “couldn’t help myself.” and then, it snaps.

you jump in your seat as sae slams the glass down on the table, and you want to knit your brows together and urge him to be careful - but seeing his restraints break makes your heart race and pussy throb. you are shameless, but it doesn’t matter anymore. not when it has him so feral, desperate to feel you. he doesn’t give you time to react - he’s known worldwide for his quick reflexes, after all - before he’s already pulling your hand away to the side and presses his hungry lips to yours.

you don’t have it in you to even joke about him making a mess as the popsicle falls to the floor from your hand, mouth full of his tongue as it licks at your cheeks and grazes along your teeth. it has you moaning, a lewd muffled sound, as sae quickly works on pushing his sweatshorts down. he breaks the kiss as he hears you struggle to breathe, a strong hand wrapping around your throat in a firm grip instead as it pushes you down. your head spins at the urgency of his movements and the grunt he lets out when your knees hit the floor.

“you’ve been actin’ like a real fucking whore,” he grabs at your jaw tightly instead, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheek and forcing your mouth agape. “you know that?” one would’ve thought that it’s embarrassing, the way he has you on your knees in a matter of minutes, tongue hanging out, saliva pooling at the tip - but to you, this feels right. your hands pull at the waistband of the grey sweats, tugging them down promptly and a groan rips from sae’s throat at the feeling of his cock springing free. you reach to wrap a hand around it, just below the reddened head, and flick your thumb over the beads of precum that already seep out the tip. you crane your head up to watch sae’s brows furrow at the initial rush of pleasure and keep your wide eyes right on his as finally, you lean in to get a taste.

reaching one hand behind him, he grips the edge of the dining table and leans against it, other hand trailing up from your neck to grab a fistful of hair. he twists the locks around, hearing you wheeze at the sudden surge of pain, and cuts your surprised sounds off by pushing his hips forward.

“ha-ah-” he gasps, eyes trained on your face and how the tears already start to cling to your lashes, “fuck- show me you’re sorry.” he grunts, shoulders rolling back before he adjusts the tight grip on your hair and pulls your face towards his abdomen. and if you didn’t feel sorry for teasing the fuck out of him yet, then you were surely regretting it now as he bullies his cock deep into your mouth, until your small hands grab at the back of his muscled thighs. “yeah, that’s it. take it.” you squeeze your eyes shut at the burn in the back of your throat, at the feeling of sae’s cock nearly rubbing up on your tonsils. it makes you gag, saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth already, and you feel rivulets of tears rush down your face as he pushes your head even further.

your nose presses against his abdomen, well trimmed and smelling of his shower gel and sweat. it turns your mind foggy and head dizzy - or is it the lack of oxygen? - as he starts thrusting, forcefully, other hand coming up to the back of your neck to gain better control of your movements. “you know tha- ah- that i hate fuckin’ brats,” your nails break the pale skin on sae’s thighs, crescent moons glowing bright pink as you grasp at the sturdy muscle. it’s starting to ring in your ears, and your neck cramps from sae’s grip. “and yet, you want to be one so badly.”

your hands scurry to grap at his legs, desperate as white dots start to sparkle across your jet black vision and yet, he stills his hips, so deep you can almost feel him in your guts. you know he adores the free use you let him have of you, and that he has his moment to pull out perfectly calculated, knowing your limits better than even you do. but, sometimes, you wonder if he’s going to push you even further, until your muscles grow limp, throat relaxes around his girth-

you heave and gasp at the sudden flow of air as sae abruptly pulls you off of him, hand flying up to clutch at your chest. there’s saliva pooling on the floor, a shameful image of filth that he forces from you each and every time, and from the corner of your eye you see sae step out of his shorts and kick them to the side.

“six,” he speaks, cutting through the spiraling the asphyxiation put you into. “that’s how many times you’ve lead me on.” you whimper as sae grabs you by the forearm, pulling your body up from the floor. he takes notice on how it already feels putty in his hands as he backs you up against the table and pushes at your heaving chest until your back hits the wood. standing between your spread legs, he waits - listens.

“i’m- ‘m sorry,” you hiccup, voice wet with tears as one of sae’s thighs presses right against your clothed heat. he clicks his tongue, feeling the dampness against his skin, and he crams his muscle against your pussy harder. “you were- you were teasin’ me, ‘n i needed you,” your hips stutter unwittingly, an attempt to spark some friction on your throbbing clit. sae notices, stoic eyes taking a short glimpse down to where you’re pressing up against him, before he focuses back on your pretty face.

“huh?” he fakes astonishment, fingers working to pull the thin material of your thong to the side, “i thought you didn’t want me? said somethin’ about the heat?” you gasp at the touch of his fingertips, the sensation turning your brain to mush, forcing quiet thankyouthankyouthankyou out of your mouth. keeping his stare on your expression, he places a thumb on your awaiting clit, and stills.

your back arches, a sob ripping through your chest, hand clutching at his wrist. “sae-”

“shh,” he hushes, slowly starting to rub precise circles, feeling the nub throb under his thumb. “you’re a lucky girl, you know that?” his other palm rests on one of your knees, slinging your leg to rest on his shoulder. your head smacks back against the table and you’re pretty sure sae’s change of pace is giving you whiplash as he presses a kiss to your ankle, right by the little charm adorning the gold chain he’s once bought you.

“only you can treat me like that and still deserve to be touched.” two fingers prod at your entrance, collecting the translucent cream that seeps out. you rest your forearm across your eyes, cheeks growing red as you can feel sae’s eyes zero in on your pussy, oozing with need. he dips a finger in, experimentally, watching out for a reaction as softly, he massages it against your front wall, barely two knuckles deep.

your body shivers, and sae wraps one arm around your leg, still resting against his chest to keep you from squirming. leaning down, he kisses you, mouth hot on yours as he drinks up every little gasp and keen as he works his fingers right against the sweetest spot he could find. pressing his palm flat on your clit, he picks up the speed, and you grab at his bicep with a breathy cry.

“gonna cum,” you blabber, but sae already feels it around his digits as they reach deeper, knuckles bending to kiss at the right spot. he hums - a quiet permission - with his fingers flexing on the flesh of your thigh as he holds you close through your high. he groans at the stuttering of your hips and squeezing of his walls on his fingers, so tight that he can barely move them to ride your high out, and rests his forehead on your collarbone. he feels, hears the translucent liquid spray against his palm as it rubs across your clit, grinds on it heavily. one of your hand is still holding onto his wrist, dainty fingers gripping on the bone as you squeal, the sensitivity making your nerves tingle.

sae eases his fingers out of you and he feels his cock throb at the sheen of your juices all over his hand - a tell tale sign of just how good he could make you feel - before he wraps it around his length, giving it a few firm pumps. you watch with half lidded eyes, saliva thick in your mouth as you try to pull your hips back. sae sends you a stern look, eyebrow raised, and you blush at the expression.

“wait a second,” you breathe, but feel sae’s cock slide between your folds anyway. with a low grunt, he grabs your other leg and puts it on it’s place on his shoulder.

“‘ve waited enough, i think,” he retorts, the fat, throbbing head catching on your sensitive clit and it makes him suck in a breath. you’re squirming underneath him, his hands on your hips not doing much in terms of keeping you still, but he’s just too focused on the warmth of your pussy across his length. you reach a hand down, fingers just barely wrapping around his cock as you guide it at your hole.

with just the slightest move forward of his hips, sae pushes right against the tight entrance, brows knit together as he bottoms out in a single motion - and his shoulders drop at the feeling, chest relaxing as if all the pent up tension had finally its’ outlet. your vision blurs as his hands move to your thigh and waist, creating just the perfect leverage to manhandle your body for his own pleasure., and you have to bite at the back of your hand to muffle your cries as sae sets a quick pace.

you’re incoherent as he strokes deep inside of you, hips smacking against the back of your thighs, heavy balls slapping on your ass. it sounds so fucking filthy, so borderline obscene, and yet, when you manage a glance at sae’s face, he looks so fucking tepid. you’ve seen this face before, usually on the big screen at the stadium as the camera zoomes in on his face as he handles the ball expertly. if there are two things that sae itoshi knows, it is soccer and fucking you dumb. he has his eyes trained on your pussy, at the creamy white ring that forms just at the base of his cock, and he grunts.

“you take me so well,” he breathes, one hand letting go of your thigh to smack across your ass. it leaves a handprint, a pretty pale pink that burns on your skin, a reminder of tonight to stay on your flesh for the next few days. he wraps one hand around your throat, palm pressing on your jugular as he leans forward, sturdy chest pressing right against your tits, barely covered by the skimpy top you’re still wearing. you struggle to catch a breath, but sae only watches with observant, sharp eyes; soaks in the fucked out expression drawn across your face.

“you gonna cum for me ‘gain?’ he asks, euphoria in every breath as he drives his hips against yours even harder. he reaches one his hands just below your bum, pushing it upwards, creating a new angle that allows him to thrust right against your favorite spot. it makes your eyes roll back, chest trembling with a sob as you nod your head quickly, urgently.

“please,” you whimper, and sae presses his forehead against yours.

he grunts, grip on your neck tightening as he braces himself to push into you harder, deeper. he feels his balls pull against his body, a shaky breath slipping past his parted lips, and he listens to the broken moans he’s forcing out of your abused throat.

sae isn’t at all surprised his ego reaches the highest of heights - not with his name all over every sports site, every magazine, stamped onto tens of trophies. not when he can get you to cry for him like that.

“ah- fucking hell-” he moans as he feels your pussy clamp down on his cock, a clear sign of your orgasm hitting you full force. your voice gets caught in your throat, but he can feel the tears sink into his hand as they stream down your face and jaw; he can feel your jittery hips against his, the pulsating of your walls on his throbbing, aching cock.

he feels the tight knot snap and with a deep groan, he bottoms out and stills his hips. white paints his vision as he breathes against your mouth heavily, pressing hot, messy kisses on your love bruised lips. you can’t feel your thighs anymore, the stretch of the mating press having exhausted them to their limit, but you still whimper when sae pushes even deeper. his cock kisses at your cervix, filling you right up to the brim, and you feel him shudder.

you move your hands to rub up his biceps, taut and strong as they hold him up, and moan out as he slowly pulls his hips back.

sae takes a proper breather, heart hammering still against his ribcage as he straightens himself. he lets go of your neck eventually, instead smoothing his hands up your hamstrings and calves, slowly easing your legs back down and to wrap around his hips. you look at his face and feel your tummy flutter at the fucked out expression, the way his already dull eyes has grown even darker and how the blush spilled across his cheeks. he notices your staring and smiles slightly, having caught his breath eventually.

“go clean up,” he sighs, giving your bottom a pat. “time to cool down.”

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reblogs are greatly appreciated ! :)

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queerpumpkinnn · 8 months

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Kinktober 1st: More Than You Can Chew

aka dad's best friend with Bucky Barnes

3.8k words

Summary: You’ve been teasing him for hours, and he makes damn sure you get what’s coming to you.

Pairing: Dbf!Bucky Barnes x afab!reader

Warnings: age gap (reader is ~20, Bucky’s ~40), Bucky doesn’t have the metal arm in this one, drinking (Bucky has like one drink), safeword in place, slight themes of manipulation and daddy issues but what did we expect with dbf, mentions of reader watching porn, pillow humping, sexting and sending nude pictures/videos, mentions of throat training, unprotected piv sex (wrap of before you tap it), creampie, oral sex (both receiving), choking, biting, hair pulling, one slap, reader is called whore/slut, orgasm denial, overstimulation, dacryphilia, talk of getting a dildo mold, brief spanking, let me know if I missed anything!

While reading, I recommend you listen to guys my age - a Spotify playlist by me!

Maybe you just woke up like this.

Maybe it was the position of the planets. Maybe it was what you ate the night before. Whatever it was, it stirred insatiable heat in your belly, enough to have you rolling around in bed until you wound up straddling a pillow and riding it for dear life.

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. 9:43. Bucky wasn't due back at yours until 2. That meant you would have to wait over four hours for dick.

You huffed, eyebrows scrunching together in frustration. You were no closer to release than you were an hour ago. You'd tried going through porn, videos of you and Bucky, but nothing worked. The tingling had settled into a dull ache; you'd hit a wall. All of your clothes had long since been discarded, strewn in all corners of the bedroom. Sweat had matted at your hairline, and your thighs and pillowcase were sticky from your frantic rutting.

You snatched your phone from the corner of the bed.

Bucky: I'll be back around 2. You'll be alright until then, doll?

You huffed, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, finger tapping the side of the phone. You left the messaging app and switched over to the camera, propping it up against your nightstand clock so that it was angled to capture a perfect view of you sat on your soiled pillow, your flushed face.

You pressed record, then sat back on the pillow, pushing hair out of your face. Your fingers were delicate, just barely whispering over your skin. Bucky lived vicariously through the videos you'd send him because you touched yourself in them. He imagined his hands feeling the touch you were displaying in the recording. So you teased the idea. Your jaw was slightly dropped, breathing bated even though you knew exactly what you'd be feeling next. Your eyes threatened to flutter shut but you forced them open, hooded and staring back at yourself, at what would be-

"Bucky," you sighed, hands ghosting over your neck, giving a soft squeeze before snaking down to your tits, your waist, your thighs, before clutching the pillow to ground you.

Your movements were slow, sensual, teasing not only to your viewer but to yourself. As soon as your hips started rolling and you got a taste of that delicious friction against your clit you gasped, eyes nearly rolling back. Whimpers began leaving your lips, growing higher and louder as you continued, swiping your hips faster.

"Bucky, please...more, please..." you sighed, eyes falling shut as your head fell back.

Focus, you told yourself. You reached for the phone, bringing it down to get a better view of your cunt, of the mess on the pillow. A better capture of the sounds your slicked, messy pussy was making.

"Fuck, Bucky, need you so bad. Come home, Bucky, please..."

You: [Attatchment: 1 Video]

You: Yeah I think I'll manage

It was a lie, of course, you knew that even if you did make yourself cum it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying or as much fun as if Bucky were there. But Bucky had a thing for you needing him, even more for bringing you down a few notches.

It took a grand total of four minutes for his response.

Bucky: Jesus Christ

Bucky: You couldn't wait a few hours?

You: Nope

You: [Attatchment: 1 Image]

Bucky: I can't get hard in front of your dad doll

You: Pity. Come home then.

Bucky: You want me to just walk out? You know I can't do that.

You: You have legs

You: Or I can finish by myself if you'd rather

Bucky: If you didn't need something from me you wouldn't have started sending me videos of you riding your pillow like a bitch in heat

Bucky: Stay off the damn pillow. I'll be home at 2.

You opted not to respond with text, rather, snapping a few pictures and videos of yourself sucking on your soaked fingers, your ass rolling as you ground into the poor pillow, et cetera.

As the hours crawled by, you began to grow bored of your plight. Bucky's message telling you to stay off the pillow (by which you did not abide) was the last you'd heard from him. You opted to find something to eat, spending the hours lazing around, scrolling through your streaming options from the bed.

Until you'd become so engrossed in a show you didn't hear the text from Bucky telling you he was on his way home. It wasn't until the rumble of the car engine sounded from downstairs that you jerked up to turn the television off. The heat in your cheeks and gut began to flare up again, and you darted towards the bathroom to check your appearance.

Although the sound of the door opening was relatively quiet, it had you jumping out of your skin in anticipation. You were donning nothing but a long T-shirt, undergarments long forgotten.

You stepped out quietly, leaning against the wall with as little smugness on your face as you can muster. Your arms are crossed as you watch Bucky kick his shoes off, fingers threading through long hair matted with sweat.

You waited, patiently, quietly, for him to glance around the room. And when he did, he stared at you silently for a grand total of two seconds before strolling into the kitchen.

What the fuck?

You tiptoed in after him. You could tell that the nonchalance was ingenuine. By the clench in his jaw, the flitting of his eyes to see where you were without looking at you, that he was practicing restraint.

"Hi, Bucky," you tried, but he only gave you a hum, still avoiding your gaze as he brought down a glass from the high cabinet.

"How was your day?" You tried again, chewing the inside of your cheek.

"Good." He sighed, pouring himself a drink. He gave your hair a ruffle before sliding past you and plopping himself down on the couch and turning on the television.

You turned on your heel, watching him in disbelief. Pretty much your entire lower half was bared to him. Bucky could barely keep his hands off you when you wore shorts.

And yet he wasn't even looking at you. You huff, taking a seat next to him and swinging your legs over his lap. Although he doesn't spare you a glance, he rests his hand on your knee, stroking it with his thumb.

And then an idea sparks in your head. An enormously consequential one, but an idea nonetheless. You pull a leg out from under Bucky's hand and bring it to the other side of you, so that your legs are spread wide. He gives no indication he's noticed. He continues to stroke the ankle still resting in his lap.

Your hand drew up before it had any clear destination; lingering around your face before landing at your jaw, tracing delicate touches along your cheek down to your neck. You released a soft sigh when your fingers found those familiar pressure points to make your pulse race and your vision blur.

You watched him diligently, waiting for a dart of the eyes, a twitch of the hand. Nothing.

Your fingers trailed down over your collarbone, down to your chest. Your chest arched into your own touch when your thumb brushed over your nipple, already hardened under your shirt.

It takes all of your might not to grin when you feel Bucky's thumb stutter in its movement. He was ominously still, and if you looked at his chest, you would notice that it wasn't rising and falling.

You begin pinching and teasing your nipples, resorting to both hands. You give a weak sound, lips falling open to give way to quiet gasps.

If you hadn't closed your eyes and begun focusing on your own pleasure, you would have noticed that Bucky's leg was now shivering, as though it wanted to bounce but was being restrained. His jaw was clenched and his hand now had a firm grip on your ankle. But he still wasn't looking at you.

Your shirt was now bunched up around your stomach, so it was no feat to ghost your hand lower, lower...

"What do you think you're doing?"

You jumped when the words snapped you out of your cloudy headspace. A firm hand gripped your wrist, just inches away from the buzzing ache between your thighs, and tugged it forward. You yelped, eyes flying open. Your free hand had to grasp Bucky's shoulder so as not to fall.

"Fuckin' pitiful, aren't you?" he snarls, breath warming your cheeks. "Can't even wait ten minutes for me?"

"But I've been waiting all day!" You protested, but it sounded more like a whine. Your words trailed off at the end, when you actually looked at Bucky. His figure loomed over yours like a great stony shadow, filled with silent malice.

Bucky scoffs. "Sure you have. So patient, especially when you begged me to come home. Sending me videos of you riding your pillow like the most cock-starved little thing."

"But-"

"Nuh uh." Bucky stands, taking a fistful of hair instead and tugging shortly. Eagerly, you followed suit. "If you're so cock-hungry, go on. Since you want it so bad."

You were face to face with his crotch, a very visible bulge brushing against the tip of your nose. The sting on your scalp and the throbbing heat of your cunt made your brain fuzzy, but at the same time all of your senses were on high alert.

Your body acted on its own, tongue lolling out from instinct. Muscle memory led you to drag your tongue over the bulge, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.

"Jesus fuck," he huffed, grip on your roots flexing.

Your fingers made quick work of his pants, yanking them down with his underwear. Madness itched in the bones of your fingers, as though your very skin came alive at the thought of touching him.

His cock dipped heavily under its own weight, already dripping. You caught the dribble and slicked it over your palm, taking him in your hand. His hips twitch into your touch.

Peering up at him through your lashes, you begin lapping at the tip of his cock, hand working his shaft. Bucky let out a groan, guttural and sinful, raspier when his head kicked back after your lips closed around him.

You knew you wouldn't be able to take him to the hilt. So you matched your fist with your lips, taking him in slow bobs while your other hand held his thigh to anchor you.

Bucky gave a hum, brushing your hair out of your eyes in a manner that might have seemed affectionate. "So fuckin' hungry for dick, aren't you? Poor thing, so dumb, so needy. Probably would've hopped on the first dick you saw if you stepped outside. Good thing 'm here to take care of you, hm? Keep you satisfied, nice and full. Keep you humble too."

You attempted to nod, watching him through misty eyes as he tsked and cooed in what sounded to your hazed brain like loving pity. You were taking him in like your life depended on it, like it was your dying wish to see him cum, to make him feel good.

You didn't even feel the ache in your jaw, the sting of tears in your eyes. All that mattered was him. The flutter of his eyelids, his fingers twitching in your hair, his hips pushing up into your mouth. Even when he held your head down, dark chuckle rumbling in his chest at the sight of you breathing shakily through your nose. You needed to please him.

"Fuck, doll, keep going, just like that, Christ..." Bucky's eyes screwed shut and his jaw fell open, a cue that you'd come to recognize. You doubled your efforts, swallowing around him as hot spurts hit the back of your throat. It began dripping out of the corners of your mouth, but Bucky kept your head down until he was done rutting into it. It dripped down onto your shirt, your bare thighs.

"That's it, fucking take it, take what I fucking give you, atta girl..."

Bucky's deep breathing, topped off with a cocky, hazed grin, made your eyelids droopy with proud exhaustion. Your tongue passed over your lips a few times, fingers swiping away the mess on your legs.

"Good girl, hm? Took me so well. Training's paid off." Bucky hummed, thumb smoothing over your cheek. You nodded dreamily, sucking on your cum-soaked finger.

"Oh, look at that, baby, you made a mess."

You looked around dumbly, then down between your legs. Your arousal had dripped onto the hardwood since you'd been put there. You hadn't came, but it still made you flush red.

"Poor thing, I've been neglecting you. Been so good to me, think you've earned it." You perked up like a puppy at his words. "Yeah? Let's find out."

Bucky scooped you up in his arms, maneuvering into your room and setting you down on the mattress. It dipped again under his own weight as he climbed over you.

"Lay back, sweetheart. Let me take care of you." He tugged your ankles towards him as if to accentuate his instruction, pushing your thighs apart.

"Jesus Christ, doll, you're so messy." Bucky is practically in awe of your pussy, thumbs pulling the lips open just to watch slick web between them. "Woulda told you to clean up the mess you made on the floor so we didn't waste any, but honey... this worked up for me?"

"All for you," you sighed, thigh muscles flexing under his touch, tracing over the dip between your thigh and your cunt. Any sophisticated thought you may have once had had long since floated away as he pushed both legs up towards your chest.

Bucky's lips trace over the skin of your thigh, sending goosebumps up your body. You shuddered when he kissed the skin connecting the backs of your thighs and your ass.

"Relax, sweet. 'M not gonna hurt ya."

That was quite likely a lie, but it sounded so sweet, how could you not believe him? Especially when his tongue traced your lips, drawing a mewl from your throat.

Bucky was nothing if not intuitive. He predicted every jolt of your hips, every increase in volume before you could. He had you wrapped around his finger, and he knew exactly how to make you come undone. How to wind you up and unravel you, and Lord was he doing it. His movements on your clit were slow, deliberate. He never rushed, always thorough and deliberate in everything he did, knowing how much you loved the anticipation.

"So fuckin' messy, doll, so sweet."

"All for you, Bucky, please," you whined, fingers grasping onto the pillow for dear life (not the one you'd previously messed).

"Patience, honey. You'll get what's coming," he hummed, and you could feel the smirk growing on his face.

You let out a gasp when a sudden feeling of fullness engulfed you. Your hands had to fly to your thighs to hold them up; they had begun trembling when Bucky's finger had begun curling, dipping in and out at a torturous pace.

"'Atta girl, y'take me so easily. Greedy, greedy pussy pulls me right back in." You clenched at the praise. "Aw, honey, are y'close? Yeah? Can feel it, feel you squeezing me."

The addition of a second, third finger was pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The edge you've been staring over for the past five hours. Your moans and gasps had long since left feeble and soft, now loud and pornographic.

You could feel the coil winding up in your belly, the bubbling of hot pleasure ready to boil over.

Until it died.

You opened your legs to stare incredulously at Bucky. His face was completely serious, sticky hands now resting on your thighs.

"Why'd you do that?" you cried, throwing your head back on the pillow. "I was so close!"

"I never said I'd let you cum, doll. I said let's find out."

You groaned, nearly kicking your feet in a tantrum. "You're not being fair!"

"Never said I would be."

You sat up slowly, lip trembling. "But you said I was good!"

"I did."

"So I deserve to cum."

Bucky frowned. "You're sounding awfully entitled, princess."

"Because I am."

A single brow was raised in warning. "D'you think you're getting anywhere with that ungrateful attitude?"

"Bucky!" You whined.

"Watch your tone."

SMACK!

You didn't think that through, you realized as soon as your hand came back to your body. Bucky's head was still turned, blinking in shock. The expression slowly gave way to annoyance as he turned back to face you. The threat his gaze held made you feel incredibly small.

"Alright." Bucky claimed a grip on your throat, pulling you forward so that you were face to face. "You wanna cum so bad?"

He didn't give a conclusion to his question, but you knew the answer anyways. Your stomach pricked with excitement.

"Bucky-" your words were cut off by your own broken gasp, when his fingers plunged back into you. His movements were still unhurried, but they were meaner, his fingers bullying into you.

It didn't take long to get you close. You'd be embarrassed at how quickly you'd become a writhing mess under his touch if not for the drunkenness off of it. His groans on your clit and the delicious stretch of his fingers clouded your vision with lust. You searched, desperately, for more of that feeling, even though it overwhelmed you, hips lifting off the bed to meet him.

"Down, doll." He grunted, pinning your hips down. You wanted to wiggle, some kind of movement, but his palm on your abdomen moved to pin your hip whenever you tried.

"Bucky, oh god, Bucky, Bucky please..." all restraint of tongue was abandoned as white-hot pleasure washed over you, blooming from your core out to your toes and fingertips. Your hands flew to his hair when the pleasure had subsided into jolts. But he remained diligent in his movements, speeding up when he noticed your panic.

"Please, too much, Bucky, can't-"

"Yes you can." He said simply. "You were begging to cum earlier."

"Hurts, Bucky..." your legs began to twitch around his head.

"You can take it."

The jolts remained even as he got you closer and closer to your second, third, fourth high, but they became washed over with the same pure need as before. By the time he was working on your fifth, a pool of sweat had accumulated under your back and your bum. Bucky's hands had long since become pruny, but their fervor did not cease. Both of you had hair matted to your forehead and were breathing heavily. You more than him, you were crying and your voice was hoarse.

"Come on, baby, give me one more." He'd said that the last three times, and yet you continued to believe him.

"Can't, Bucky, too much," you sobbed, shaky hands grasping the sheets under you as you squirmed and shivered.

"You can. I know you can, you've done it before, my good girl. You can take it, can't you?"

Well, when he said it like that. Something in your chest bloomed with pride when he called you that. Feeling the sudden urge to prove yourself, to make him proud, you opened your mouth. "Yeah. I can take it. Please, please make me take it. Make me take your cock."

Bucky was swift to change his position, now face to face with you as he lined his cock up with your soaked hole. You clutched his shoulders as he slid into you, so easily with how wet you'd become but still enough of a burn to make you dizzy.

"Fuck, princess, so wet. So ready for me, so greedy." Bucky grunted when you clenched. "Don't fuckin' do that."

You didn't even intend to clench again, but watching his eyes roll back and his mouth fall open at the feel of you pulled that response from you on its own.

Bucky groaned, his hips jerking forward on their own. He began rolling into you slowly, but patience quickly left him and he began pummeling into you, hitting the deepest spots of you. His breath and deep groans were right by your ear as he bit down on your shoulder, stained with tears.

"Such a dumb little whore, huh? Spend all day begging for cock, and even when she has it she can't get enough. Do we need to get a mold of my dick? So you have something to keep you satisfied? Maybe you'd just leave it in, so you can spend all day full of my cock. That way when I come home you'll always be prepped for me."

The mere thought tipped you over the edge, crying his name over and over again as your pussy spasmed around him. Bucky groaned, biting down harder as he pushed his own release deep into you.

"That's it, good fucking girl. Take all of my cum, gotta keep it inside. That's my good cumslut."

When his hips slowed, a strange mixture of relief and disappointment eased over you. You were too tired to discern the two, heavy eyes falling shut.

You heard Bucky moving around beside you, then felt him scoop you up and carry you somewhere. You squinted when a bright light was turned on.

"Here we go." Bucky kicked the toilet lid up and set you down. You suddenly felt very sticky and dirty.

But the sound of bathwater running eased your mind, and Bucky stepped out to leave the room. You sighed, smacking your dry lips as you stepped into the bath. It was relaxing on your leg muscles, properly worn and exhausted.

At some point when you opened your eyes, Bucky had stepped back in, and was leaning against the counter.

"I'm never one to complain, but good god do you make a lot of laundry." Bucky snarked, crossing one ankle over the other as he clicked open his phone.

"I'm not the one who didn't think ahead enough to put down a towel."

"Touche." You watched Bucky's brows furrow, and before you can ask why you're met with the familiar sounds of your moans- the ones you made when you teased him this morning. He must have stopped checking his phone while he was out- he did say he didn't want to be bricked up in front of your dad.

Bucky was completely silent as he watched, but he was intensely focused. By the time he'd gotten to the end of the videos, he was rock hard. When he was done, he set his phone down and stepped towards the bathtub.

"Alright, make room."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky #the winter soldier #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #bucky x reader #avengers x reader #marvel imagine

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dungeonpuppykai · 2 months

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|| Triumph Of The Beast ||

Description: Captain Syverson learnt that the only way to have her was to ask her hand in marriage. So he did just that. And she was all his now, both to hold and to possess.

Pairing: Soft-Dark!Captain Syverson | Sheikha!Reader.

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Captain Syverson. This is a mature story with dark undertones so kindly browse at your own discretion. Please note that this piece is only a work of fiction that in no way aims to reinforce or propose any stereotypes to any ethnicity or race. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Syverson, he is lowkey messed up, smut with plot (I am sorry), possessive behavior, his obsession with her chastity, naive!reader, size kink, biting (it's Henry and his canines ffs), boob play, manhandling, power imbalance, arranged marriage, fingering, handjob, dirty talk, m!dom, f!sub, he's a man, misogyny, age gap (reader is 20's, Sy is early 40's fight me), he's lowkey intimidating, slight spanking, allusion to bondage, manipulation, slow burn-ish, maybe more dialogue than necessary, p-in-v penetration, corruption kink, no use of 'Y/n'.

Note: Her father is not the mean Sheikh from the movie lmfao. Reader doesn't even have to be Iraqi, just Eastern that you can TOTALLY imagine yourself as because it's a frickin' story for God's sake! Ps, This blocked me so hard mid-write I nearly abandoned it lmfao, I need a break!

Captain Syverson had always thought the notion of the first touch buzz to be foolish. To quote him in his own words, the electric touch that people claimed their beloved aroused within them was nothing more than a steaming pile of horseshit.

Until now.

As his thick and coarse battle hardened hands cupped the side of the tender face of his dear wife, the Captain's thumb darted out to quickly glide across the perfect arch of her cheekbone before it moved down to the bow of her lips, his body combusting into a thousand flames of raw desire.

Her skin was so tender he feared it may come off if he pressed on it too hard. The structure of her body that adorned her traditional wedding attire seemed so fragile in this moment next to him and in his big old bed that the thought of ever manhandling a thing as delicate as her terrified him. The contrast of her usually confident and intelligent countenance was striking in quality to the humility with which she now offered her submission to him.

His suspicions against his body and strength increased by the passing minute; he felt petrified to even breathe too easily near her. The fear that it may damage her in some way haunted him and filled his lungs with dread. It was not that she was the most petite thing that he had ever seen or she held resemblance to an adolescent in terms of size or any of that weird shit, no.

It was instead the way in which her head bowed in just the perfect way so it indicated respect and submission; not so high that it would seem that she was trying to deny him his station but not so low that it became off-putting. It was an acknowledgement to his power in their dynamic; an agreement of a lifetime.

The man could swear he was going crazy.

There was simply no way he was going to make it through the night with his sanity intact.

It was just the effect she had on him.

If there was anyone to blame it was her.

Because even though he wanted to hide this girl so safely in his arms for the rest of his days that not even a harsh breeze would be allowed to touch her, the erratic way in which his boiling blood sizzled its way through his veins, The Captain wanted nothing more than to just turn her around, press her breathtaking face into the mattress and take her over and over until she was swell with his litter.

Or press his bigger body against hers and take her deep and raw until her mind gave up on consciousness

Perhaps place her between his own legs and feel her mouth around him until his seed spilled from her nose.

Maybe make her mount him and slap her ass that he just knew would be perfect over and over to keep her going even when she didn't want to.

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing.

And he was determined to try his hand at all of them, and more.

His eyebrows furrowed just a little when she awkwardly pecked his lips for the fifth time in a straight row and refused to give him more, cringing away when he attempted to deepen the kiss. The girl that giggled and covered her mouth on which her red lipstick had already smudged was a dead leaf echo of the confident and liberal sheikha -prized daughter of the sheikh supreme- that critically watched the foreign Captain everytime he was around with her bright and vigilant brown eyes so full of scrutiny that it made him, a grown man, blush. It wasn't his fault, really. Her eyes had the most attractive gleam of intelligence to them and the black khol that lined them only accentuated their beauty more.

She had always been so elegant Syverson knew he was a goner the first time his eyes had been granted the pleasure of looking at her. Sat aside her father basking in her confidence, silk scarf draped around her head and body in the most perfect way, a form he could only describe as agreeable always clad in decent clothes, fingers adorning rings with colorful stones and modesty dripping off of every single mannerism of hers.

How could a man not look twice?

And then not consider looking away utterly blasphemous on account of being unappreciative of such godly beauty?

"I- I do not know how to…" Her accent turned his gears just right. "K- Kiss, Captain" oh.

Of course.

Blood rushed to his cock that hadn't throbbed like this in a long time. That was, if it ever had.

And then his sweet, chaste wife just had to call him Captain.

Fuck.

He was going to tear her apart.

And she had no idea.

The obedient daughter, who was never afraid to voice her thoughts and outsmart every man who dared stand against her with inadequate knowledge of the debate at hand, had happily bowed down to her father's wish that she marry the charming and noble Captain -to them a warrior who was not afraid to fight for his country; a man truly admirable- after said Captain had asked for her hand in marriage when he had realized that that was the only way to have her.

Mind, body, soul… heart.

Sure, it had taken Syverson and his rather daft attempts at impressing her some quick-witted answers and astute responses by a rather critical her to realize it.

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered.

"Well, ain't that just dandy?" Syverson realizes just how heavy his breathing really is when his words come out gravelly and almost forced. She is unable to hold his eyes for very long so she stares at his chest instead, a most remarkable coy smile across her lips. The fact that she looks every other man with a taught unaffected sternness but has blushed everytime their eyes have met after the wedding just drives him all the more insane.

Her dark eyebrows furrow as she lightly tilts her head to the side. He has noticed that she has some trouble understanding his dialect. So he caresses her cheek again, this time in a reassuring manner;

"I know you'll figure it out soon. You're a clever lil' thing, ain'tcha?" She looks up just long enough to nod with a meeting of their eyes.

"Yes, Captain" god, even her way of speaking has softened.

The knowledge that he was the only man in this whole wide world whom she treated like this made him want to worship her with his love and devotion in every way possible.

Because The Captain was naturally a very possessive man who did not appreciate ran through goods.

"Alright now, just trust your husband and sit back like a good lil' bride, alright?" It was taking him all of his focus to not just push her back and have his depraved ways with her all night long.

"Y- Yes, Captain."

"Atta girl," before he leaned back in and brushed his lips against hers just long enough to whisper, "now hush and don'tcha try to keep them pretty lips shut on me" he felt her going breathless against him when his mouth fit against the slot of her parted one perfectly; as though it had been created just for him.

She did her best to keep up with as much obedience as her modesty would allow her to muster but the sensation of his mouth against hers, the scratch of his coarse beard across her delicate skin, the wetness of his tongue that took its time swiping against her bottom lip and the way that he didn't have to break the kiss to know that she had extended her had in his direction to take a hold of him to deal with the intensity of it all, the sheer desperation with which he reached out his fingers and clutched hers in an affectionate way that also had a territorial tinge to it was all too much for her to handle.

An unfamiliar thrill that she had been a stranger to until this moment began to patter through her bloodstream. Her heart pounded, her sweat glands soaked, her face burnt and her stomach fluttered.

"Captain" was all she was allowed to whisper in the two second interval the man allowed them to recover their breathing.

"Well, I'll be damned, darlin'" Syverson husked through rushed kisses as he hurriedly helped her lay down with her attire still intact, both too desperate to strip her and wanting to take her as she was, for tonight she looked the most stunning he had ever seen her. "You're so dang pretty I can't even fathom stayin' off ya now that you're mine" a hush of cold breath rushed past her flush lips as her thick eyebrows drooped upwards in reaction to him dipping his face in the curve of her neck.

"I am all yours to do with whatever you please, my C- Captain" her soft hands flew to grab at his shirt as the foreign sensation of a man's body against her skin sent an electric bolt down her spine.

His body was heavy above hers as he groaned at her response and grinded his bulge against her covered sex, peppering kisses all over her skin. "God damn, baby. Your mama sure raised you up right, didn't she?" A loud squeak resonated in the air when the new husband simply could not hold back his passion anymore and bit down on the inviting flesh of her shoulder, letting out a stomach churning moan at her taste and squeezing her sides as the smell of her fragrance oils hit his nose.

"Fuck, baby" it took him all of his willpower and the promise that he could go back for more only easier to part from her. "I can't–" sitting up to kneel over her, Syverson pulled his shirt over his head before tossing it somewhere in the room. "I can't hold back no more" as he leaned back down and placed one hand beside her head to keep himself from suffocating her, the way she looked up at him with wonder, timidity, need, sent a pang of pain to his cock. "Talk to me, darlin'" he gathered her wrists in one hand before placing them above her head, now reaching for the clothed bump on her chest. "You feelin' anything?" A soundless breath left her and she shuddered in such a way that her boobs trembled feverishly.

"S- Strange… a- and… oh my God!" She had to shut her eyes and turn her head to the side when he suddenly manhandled one of her breasts out of the deep neckline of her wedding night dress. Her hands rushed to cover her chest by instinct but her husband's authoritative swat was much quicker and stronger.

Syverson chuckled at the defensive gasp she let out, a crazed darkness floating in his eyes as he pinnned her feverish hands out of his way, coarse palm now feeling up her other breast that was freed as he spoke. "Ain't no God 'round these parts tonight, baby. Just me…" His lips enveloped hers in a right and hungry kiss. "'N you" the way she nervously gulped when he pulled back to stare into her eyes only added to the fire in his body. "Say, baby" he trailed gentle kisses down her chin, along her throat and then down to the fluffy cushions of soft flesh dotted with flush, erect nipples in the middle. A surprised cry jutted out of her mouth and her fingernails tried to claw at his hand that confined them above her when he pressed one wet kiss on each nub. "Ain't this just somethin' else?"

The girl had no idea what possessed her to say what she did, but her hips moved faster than her brain could catch on and her lips worked before reticence could hinder her communication. "I- It is, Captain. T- Thank you" of course she had felt arousal before. Of course she had been wet before. Some of those times she had a certain handsome American Captain to thank for, not that she would ever willingly admit it. But she had never known how to relieve herself of it other than a cold shower.

Her mother had warned her that not every feeling that transpires in one in times of idleness should be chased and she had listened.

But this was not solitary boredom, this was not a devilish lure, her mother wasn't here and it was her wedding night with a man she was slowly becoming sure she would be able to call her dear husband one day.

If her husband was kind enough to be considerate about what made her feel what she could only identify as exciting, she deemed it a stupidity to refuse the treatment.

"Aw, baby" Syverson's hands only part from her breasts so his mouth can greedily latch onto them, his bearded lips pressing all over them before his hand nearly snatches her skirts out of his way since the layers seem to be never ending. "To think that I ain't even begun with ya and you're already thankin' me like a sweet little lady" now his mouth traveled to her stomach and the only word he had for its appearance was perfect. A shudder set in her shoulders when his beard scratched her navel before his teeth softly nibbled away on her skin.

"W- Would you like me to get up and t- take my clothes off, dear?" God damn.

He really had hit the fucking jackpot.

"Hold on now, darlin'" he husked as his fingers caressed her nubs, his hot mouth littering its kisses over her skin further down south. "I wanna take you like this first" the readied rise in the middle of her shoulder blades smoothed out and she settled back into the mattress again wordlessly. "Well now, are you gonna be good and keep them arms up high like a good lil' thing or am I gonna have to tie 'em up?" A drawn out moan sounded from deep within her throat when his chin deliberately brushed against her clothed sex, coarse fingers twirling her nipple between them.

Syverson felt an unconscious clench in the muscles of her thighs upon his words finally registering in her clouded mind. "N- No, I- I'll be good, husband. I promise."

"Atta girl" he praised in a satisfied tone before letting go of her wrists.

It was after that that his hands roamed free and wild all over her form. The Captain kissed, sucked, nibbled, pinched, groped, licked and bit all to his desire, the growing moans of his bride only encouraging him further.

"God damn, if these ain't the sweetest damn legs I've ever seen" Syverson licked away the thread of spit that previously connected his mouth to her now bruised hiphone that he had successfully marked as his territory. The fact that no man had ever seen them and the plan that he made to never let anyone do so either was making his ears hot. His sides were becoming sore with need like he was the virgin.

"And this– fuck, c'mere" he couldn't hold it back anymore. The Captain had always been an ass man and the fact that he was yet to see his wife's backside was making him mad now. Her yelp morphed into a confused giggle when he bundled her ankles in one of his rough hands, having already rid her of her panties, and easily raised both her legs up until her lower half dangling by his hold on her. "Hmmm, I just knew you had a perfect lil' rump stashed in there" his free hand felt her soft cheeks up before he traced his index finger down her crack, cursing at the way they clenched in defense. Then his depravity got the best of him and he wound his hand back and gave a handful of strong blows to her poor behind that started blushing in an instant.

"Oh– ouch!" Her next nervous giggle made him raise an eyebrow as he divided an ankle between each hand and parted her legs to look down at her.

"Think this is funny, do you?" The girl quickly stopped herself nervously. "You know who that's for?" He didn't even mind the giggles, if anything they were rather endearing to him. But the timidity in her eyes was way too sweet for him to pass up. She shook her head no. "Bad little girls who make fun of their fellas, that's who." It was the cock hardening way in which her bottom lip wobbled sensitively that dried his throat.

A young woman once so strong, all commanding and authorative now exposed in such a submissive manner and completely at his mercy.

"S- Sorry, dear" he hummed, reaching for the mound between her legs to roughly feel her pussy up in blunt gropes.

"You can consider those as payback for all them times you thought you could get slick with me in front of my boys just 'cause you were the Sheikh's daughter" her eyes widened and she blushed harder than before.

"I- I–"

"Yes, you" though Syverson's words were crisp, his kiss on her nether lips was tender and perhaps that was the sole reason why she didn't tear up from being reprimanded when she was so vulnerable and hypersensitive like this. "Thought I'd just forget all that brattin' of yours?"

She had to hurriedly sit up for that one and reach for his hands affectionately. "Oh, no" the pure care in her eyes made his melting heart feel as though it had risen into the sky. "It was only that you were not my husband back then, dear," she tried to make him understand, aware that there were cultural differences that needed overcoming, "mother said good girls owe it to their husbands to treat every other man with a serious attitude and indifference!"

She was breaking his fucking heart.

It was officially official.

Abel Ford Syverson was in love.

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love.

With a woman who was not only intelligent and gorgeous way past his league but one that respected herself with an unwavering devotion towards her spouse.

"Well, I'll be damned!" He exclaimed with faux surprise that she did not catch up on, much to his expectation. "So that's what it was all about?" Of course he knew.

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right.

She apologetically nodded with sincerity. "I swear, my heart." The translation of the endearment caused for his blood to pump through his ears only harder.

Syverson gave her a small smile before sighing a little. "Well, you see, darlin', it did still hurt my feelings a tad" her eyebrows furrowed in regret so he added just to rub it in that much more; "got me a bit of pride to keep up, y'know?"

Now she pouted. "I am sorry, love…" Before a bulb went off in her head and she jumped a little to express her excitement, the action causing her naked boobs to jiggle. "Is there a way I can make it up to you?" There.

"Why, of course!" Fuck, he sounded more eager than a middle schooler. "You gonna have to show that you can make a good little wife" her cheeks flushed as she bit her bottom lip in embarrassment. He continued, aware she was as clueless as a virgin.

Because she was one.

Syverson loved the thought.

He wished there was a way to preserve it -her- all as it was.

"Anything you want, my dear" she replied sincerely as she earnestly pressed his hand that she held to her chest.

The man swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat as his eyes flickered down to where their fingers were intertwined; the valley of her perfect breasts.

"Good girl" his voice came out much deeper than usual. "Go on 'n' take it out, then" the bride's eyebrows raised to express her confusion as she tilted her head to the side.

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

Syverson was getting impatient. "That means my pants, darlin'." He chuckled to lighten the effect of the edge that his tone had held. "I mean, can't exactly make love to ya with 'em on, now can I?" Something pulled taught in her chest and she went to avoid his eyes out of embarrassment.

"Oh… yes" she was breathless as she reached for his fly, face angled downwards.

"Yeah…?" He drew it out on purpose teasingly, dipping his own head earthwards to try and meet her gaze cockily. "Yeah, yeah?" The man kept going unrelentlessly until she had no choice but to respond.

"Y- Yes…" Her nervous fingers slipped over the button of his pants many times but she managed to free him at last.

"Go on ahead now, sugar" he coaxed sweetly, tone in stark contrast to his intentions. "Take it out and let them pretty lil' hands get a feel" her legs instinctively tried to close due to the shame she felt but her husband's huge body hindered her attempt to somehow cover herself. "Well?"

Her eyes darted up to him from where her fingers gingerly rested against the waistband of his boxers and Syverson suspected that she was about to decline because of the way her mouth moved to let out some phantom words. But when he raised a questioning eyebrow in response, she seemed as though it had reminded her of her place against him and she quickly dipped her digits inside the undergarment to reach for his thumping cock.

The first feel of her fingertips connecting with his hard skin was… indescribable. It was as though time ceased, stilling everything else with it and he was enveloped into a cocoon of pure sensation. She was everywhere and inside. Her heat filled him to the brim. Each brush of her delicate skin against his rougher one felt like the stroke of the flesh of an outworldly nymph. Shivers of ecstacy cascaded down his lower back and he was floating already.

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin at the unfamiliar feeling, the moan that he let out along a whispered praise pulling her back in the moment and away from her recoil. The bride's mind reminded her of her duty to her husband and she used her other hand to hold his clothes away so she could uncover his impaler.

"Just like that, darlin'. Just like that" one of his hands went to tangle in her hair. "Go on and rub it for me, baby. You're doin' real good" his free hand reached for her own sex that had secreted its natural moisture in reaction to the sensations she was being subjected to. He groaned at the feeling of her warm pussy and squished his finger through her plump nether lips. "Tell me what you see" her own body was getting feverish by the second, hips and cunt trying to shrink in on themselves due to how violating his sense tingling touch was.

"I- It's…" She raked her mind for an appropriate answer. But it was all too much for her to handle; the pressure to impress her new husband, touching him the way he wanted properly, obeying him, submitting to his handling and then dealing with his intense gaze. "V- Very pretty, husband. Thank you" so she played it the safest she knew.

And the girl could swear she felt him twitch in her palm at that, a pang of pain rising in her wrist as she awkwardly pumped him in a vertical manner.

"Pretty, huh?" A cunning grin spread across his handsome features as he slipped one finger deep within her folds and being the retired playboy that he was, the Captain easily found her pure entrance. "'N' what about the size?" He could not help but moan at the feeling of her balmy walls clinging to his finger. "Ever seen anythin' like it?" Her thighs quivered as his thumb glided over her folds.

"N- No, husband" she answered timidly, afraid to bruise his pride with an inappropriate or unsatisfactory answer that may pose a threat to her chasteness.

"That's right" now he began to speed up his intrusion of her insides. "'Cause you're all mine, ain'tcha?" She quickly nodded, letting out a whine as her eyebrows furrowed at the ache his twisting of one of her nipples caused. "Now tell me," he leaned forward to reach for one of her nubs with his teeth, "did ya ever think you'd land yourself a fella with a cock this big?" He spoke through a mouthful before sinking down on her tender boobs, the tips of his sharp canines digging into the soft cushions of her flesh.

"N- No…" The girl was gasping as she struggled to keep up with his leaking and twitching cock. "T- Thank you, dear!" She added for good measure despite how overwhelmed she was becoming.

"Tell me, baby" the man loved how his naive wife's features scrunched in discomfort but she still sped up her fist that was wrapped around his cock because he prompted her to, hoisting himself further up next to capture her lips against his. "Do you think yourself lucky that you get to have this here cock all to yourself for the rest of your days?" He could not help but fuck into her hand at the sight of the spit string dangling by a corner of her bottom lip as it connected to the wad of spit that she had just released on his cock after being ordered to do so. He felt her cringe at the feeling of her fingers touching her own saliva as she spread it over his cock. But her resolve to obey him did not falter even once regardless of how shy or uneasy she felt.

And that was how Syverson knew he had found himself his perfect little homemaker.

"I- I do, husband" her voice nearly broke. "Thank you so much" the fact that all of this was visibly strange and even uncomfortable to her because she was not familiar with any of this…

The Captain could swear that alone was enough to finish him off.

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled.

Nobody's leftovers; whole in every sense for the beast to take.

What could he say? Colonel Syverson's prized son always won, no matter what.

There was a brighter way of looking at his promiscuous dating history that was in stark contrast to his wife's nonexistent one; it could easily be considered as his physical sacrifice in order to realize and reach his full potential as a man for his future lady's well being as well as pleasure.

A lady that he had found at last.

"Say it" his command was heavy and the rough skin of his finger was like gravel against the buttery tissue of her slick walls. "Say that you're the luckiest lil' bride for landin' yourself the best damn dick you could have ever hoped for" she began to subconsciously move her thumb out of sync with the rest of her digits to swipe it over his tip each time her hand rose to his apex and he couldn't believe just how close he was already.

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

But then again it was impossible for the beast to resist his tempting lamb for very long, wasn't it?

"I- I am the luckiest…" She licked her parched lips needily. "L- Little bride for l- landing myself the best d- dick…" Embarrassment burnt her cheeks but pleasing him was more important a priority to her. "T- That I could've ever hoped for…"

He deeply moaned in satisfaction. "My good girl" a quick peck was given to the tip of her nose. "Now tell me, baby. How ya feelin'?" As if on cue, she clenched around his finger with a moan.

Fuck, Syverson had never really preferred a clueless woman until now.

He could literally demand whatever he wanted from her and she would believe him out of her naivety.

His perfect pretzel Princess that he could twist into whatever shape that he pleased.

Or make her do as he desired, for that matter.

With no one, not even his wife herself, to question him or his ways.

He loved the thought.

"... S- Strange… P- Pain… but– hnnn!" Her back arched as she suddenly writhed, nearly going white at the feeling of getting her special spot getting tickled for the first time. It was an ability her husband took a lot of pride in; the renown that he had held in college for being able to find gspots with his fingers alone.

"Feels real good too, don't it?" The Captain snickered heavily as he began to rock his hips into her hand, feeling himself nearing the brink.

"Mmh!" She did her best to respond despite the sensory overload, groaning softly when he forces her band of muscles to expand further by adding another finger to her pussy and repeatedly jabbing her sensitive nerves with their blunt tips, the sound of his skin fucking in and out of her liquids getting louder by the minute. "W- Weird… but…" A drop of sweat trickled down the side of her face as she gasped, eyes widening when her spine jolted at a particular wave of pleasure. "M- More, please."

In the blink of an eye, Syverson had pushed her on her back before crawling up her body like a predator. Before her body could process his fingers leaving her into an orgasm denial, his eager cock was pushing into her. The pained moan that escaped her as her body twisted under his was muffled by his mouth clamping over hers. The Captain grunted as his cock struggled to push its way inside her virgin entrance despite the preparation that he had done. The girl's bottom lip pulled away from the rest of her mouth due to the way he bit down on it to withstand the overwhelming pleasure that sparked everywhere within him.

"Your wish is my command, my darlin' sheikha."

Syverson found himself praying for the first time to any god, deity or entity that may be listening; to freeze time right here in this very moment and never set it free again.

For he could stay like this for eternities and beyond; buried inside his dear wife and protectively enveloped in her loving arms that had never held another like she did him and never would whilst she moaned below him in a pained ecstasy, clenching and nearly knocking out as she experienced her first ever orgasm.

Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3

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nehi-soda · 5 months

Text

Bedroom Ceremonials - Joel Miller x Female Reader No Outbreak AU

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

“You walk a fine line between god and animal

You’re just a feral dog I worship in bedroom ceremonials”

- Dog Days, Ethel Cain.

Summary: His warm eyes were now stormy with frustration and concern, raindrops clinging to his dark hair, and his chaahart jacket soaked through from the rain. He doesn't waste a moment before unleashing his pent-up emotions, his breathing ragged as he towers in the doorway.

"Where the hell were you?"

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: P in V sex, ANGST, rough sex, smut, jealous!joel, established relationship, mention of violence (not directed at reader), alcohol, praise kink, dirty talk, size kink, makeup sex, oral sex (female receiving), au!joel, no outbreak!joel. Legal age gap (reader is mid 20's Joel is late 40's). No use of Y/N.

A/N: This is my first time writing any kind of smut or fan fiction. I just had to get some ideas out of my system. Joel is just so Ethel Cain coded.

As you step inside, the weight of the day's stress seems to cling to you like a heavy coat. It's been a rough day, and the unfamiliarity of your new job and home is only adding to your apprehension.

You can't help but feel a pang of longing for your dad's company, and you miss the comfort of having Joel just across the street.

You walk through the door, feeling like a soggy mess after getting caught in the rain on your way home.

Although you've been living there for four weeks now, the space still feels new. You do love it. You enjoy having your own space, being surrounded by your belongings, and having total control over the decor. Joel has personally assembled nearly all the furniture. No longer are you limited to just decorating your childhood bedroom.

However, you're still finding your feet in this new chapter of your life.

After dumping your bag in the hallway, you sigh deeply and release some of the tension that has built up in your neck. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror - your mascara is smudged, and your hair is plastered to your face.

You quickly change out of your wet clothes and head to the bathroom to run the shower. As the steam begins to fill the room, you can feel yourself starting to relax.

You're already wrapped in your towel, pacing around your bedroom, when you grab your phone. It's been a busy day, and you haven't had a chance to check your messages. You see that Joel has sent you a few texts that you haven't had a chance to respond to.

Joel: hey baby, hope you have a good day at work x

Joel: hey, me again. Everything ok?

Joel: I figured you’re probably caught up in work stuff. Call me when you’re home.

As you toss your phone onto the bed, your face pulls into a guilty frown. You make a mental note to call Joel as soon as you're out of the shower, but right now, all you want to do is snuggle up in bed. Even though you crave to hear his southern drawl pour out of your phone's speaker like honey, exhaustion had taken over.

You head into the bathroom and swiftly lock the door behind you. You let out a sigh of relief as the hot water from the shower caresses your neck and chest. As you lather up your hair and body, you feel the day's stress slowly melting away.

Emerging from the shower, your hair still damp and clinging to your back, you tiptoe to your dresser and fish out a pair of checkered sleep shorts and an off-the-shoulder grey sweater, which you've cherished for years, proudly displaying "Texas" in bold across the front. You decide to complete the outfit with a pair of comfy cream knee socks for added warmth. They hug your thighs as you towel off your hair.

As you sink into the plush comfort of your bed and listen to the rain beating down on your windows, your thoughts drift to the soothing sound of Joel's voice.

You imagine the reassuring thump of his heart beneath your ear, the scratch of his unshaven jaw grazing the top of your head, and the comforting sensation of his work-worn fingers tracing hypnotic circles on your shoulders.

You yearn for more time with Joel, but it's hard to make it happen with busy schedules. He's been spoilt having you for nearly the entire summer break after graduating from college and now you both are feeling the strain.

Fortunately, he's devised a thoughtful solution - offering to pick you up after work to drop you home to squeeze in some extra quality time. Only this inevitably ends up with him just taking you to his house so he can tangle his fingers in your hair and fuck you senseless all night. Smart plan.

You wake up in his sheets, smelling like him. You always wake up first. You start to get ready for work, stealing glances at him sleeping in the sheets. Vulnerable and quiet. Such a contrast to his demeanour the night before when he gripped your hips so deliciously hard he left bruises, and pulled the fibres of pink tissue from your lips into shreds with his teeth.

You savour a warm cup of his coffee as marmalade sunlight seeps through the curtains, casting golden rays across his head like a halo. A glint of silver is growing up the side of his hairline. He thinks it makes him look distinguished, and you can’t help but agree. He loves to be so much older than you. He thinks it makes him wise.

You recall your fingers tapping against his bare chest like a spider's legs as you undo his flannel buttons one by one, revealing a glimpse of his toned torso from his physically demanding job. He listens intently as you ramble on about your day, content to let you have the floor. He's not much of a talker, but you don't mind. You love the way he watches you. His eyes glitter like a lake catching the glare of the moonlight, and he smirks when you get flustered. He knows the power he holds over you, and he lets it all go to his head.

He's a man of simple pleasures- clean socks and messy hair. He writes his name in the fog on the mirror from where he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pressed your face against the glass. The memory still makes you feel dizzy.

You believe he walks a fine line between god and animal, like a feral dog you worship in bedroom ceremonials.

Just as your saccharine memories of Joel have lulled you to sleep, you hear a loud hammering at the door. You jolt awake, panicked and disorientated, feeling like you’ve been ripped away from paradise.

Groggily, you fumble around the sheets for your phone, finding it still in the same spot where you tossed it earlier. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep; they peer at the illuminated screen displaying 11:11.

You see a barrage of missed calls from Joel. Your heart races as you wonder what could be so urgent. Then it hits you like a ton of bricks - you’d forgotten to call him….

You take in your surroundings- the deep blue hue of your room and the persistent pounding at your front door. You scramble out of bed and rush through the hallway.

You fumble with the lock and swing the door open to find Joel standing there, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity you've never seen before. His warm eyes were now stormy with frustration and concern, raindrops clinging to his dark hair, and his chaahart jacket soaked through from the rain. He doesn't waste a moment before unleashing his pent-up emotions, his breathing ragged as he towers in the doorway.

"Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice sharp and accusatory with a southern edge. “I've been callin' and textin' all day, and you couldn't even bother to respond?” He barges past you. The sound of heavy footsteps resonates through the living room as Joel paces back and forth. The tension in the air is palpable, hanging thick like the storm clouds outside. You watch him, tugging on your sleeves and shuffling your socks against the wood floor.

“Joel, I'm sorry. It was just a hectic day, and I lost track of time. I didn't mean to ignore you." You answer, still caught off guard by his unexpected visit.

His expression tightens, and he steps closer, invading your personal space. “Lost track of time? Or were you with someone else, huh? Is that what's goin' on?"

Your heart feels heavy with hurt. "Joel, no! I would never—" He cuts you off, his frustration escalating.

"Don't give me that. You've been distant lately, and now this? I'm not stupid. If you're messin’ around, just be honest about it.” The faint scent of alcohol lingers on his breath. Whiskey you guess. Tears well up in your eyes as you try to make him understand.

"Joel, I'm not cheating on you. It's just been a tough transition with the new job and all. I've been overwhelmed." Your heart pounding now.

He carries on prowling around your living room.

“What, you think I’ve been fucking one of my co-workers on the side?” you continue, struggling to focus on his face as your vision blurs from the tears.

His face is shrouded in the darkness of your living room. He casts a long shadow on your walls. “Overwhelmed or not, you should have found a moment to let me know. Ignorin' me ain't fair.” His words come out with a coldness that makes a lump develop in your throat. You nod, a tear escaping and trailing down your cheek. "You're right. I should have communicated better. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He sighs, running a hand through his wet hair. "Damn it, I care about you. I can't stand feelin’ like I don't even know where you are."

"Joel, please," you plead, trying to sound calm, but your voice comes out strained. You can’t help but feel pathetic. "Let's talk about this. I don't want things to be like this."

He halts his pacing, shooting you a glare that cuts through the air like lightning. "Talk? We've been needin' to talk for a while now. You've been avoidin' it”.

You take a deep breath; your lips tremble now. "I know. I've been caught up in everything; I don’t want to think about anything when I'm with you. That’s why I don’t bring it up.”

Joel's gaze narrows, his lips forming a tight line. The room feels charged with his lingering anger. He releases a sigh and his eyes soften slightly.

"I get it. Life can throw a whole mess of things at us; sometimes it feels like we're drownin'. But keepin' things bottled up and shuttin’ me out ain't the answer baby girl," he says, his Southern drawl carrying a touch of sweetness. You nod again the tears are now streaming down your face.

“I just… I don't want to burden you with my problems. I want our time together to be a safe space from all the chaos."

He lets out a heavy sigh. "Look, I ain't sayin' it's gonna be easy, but we can't keep playin' these games. I ain’t one of your lil’ college boyfriends, okay. If you got a problem, we face it together. That's what bein' in a grown-up relationship is about." His tone bites.

You nod again, a heavy weight settling in your chest. "You're right. I messed up. I want to fix it, Joel." The desperation in your voice echoes, and you feel like a rabbit pleading into the blinding headlights of an oncoming car.

He steps closer, his hand warm on your cheek as you lean into his touch. "I appreciate that, darlin', but we're in this together.” His words are unexpectedly soft.

"You're right. I shouldn't have shut you out,” you mumble.

His darkened eyes threaten to swallow you up as they gaze into yours. He makes you feel… nervous. His mere presence has this effect, leaving you feeling exposed as your emotions betray you, slipping from your eyes and staining your cheeks. In this vulnerable moment, you're reminded of how much he loves it when you’re so needy. The contrast between your sleep clothes and his work attire makes you feel small. You wonder why he hadn’t changed out of them before coming over?

Joel had been back from work hours before he arrived at your apartment. He paced anxiously in his living room with a glass of whiskey in his hand, work-worn jeans, and boots still on. He pours himself another whiskey and slams it down on the coffee table as his mind swims with thoughts of you with another man. Joel knew he was jumping to conclusions but how else could he explain your distance lately? He knew you were too good for him. He just knew how everyone turned to look at you when you entered the room. You were too damn pretty for your own good. His jaw clenched at the thought of another man’s hands roaming over your perfect body. His grip tightened on his whiskey glass before smashing it against the wall in frustration.

He storms outside into the rain to his truck.

On his way to your apartment his eyes are wild on the road, knuckles turning white on the wheel.

“God, you drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he hisses between his teeth. Joel's hands, calloused and strong, cradle your face delicately.

“We'll figure it out, darlin'. Together. No more keepin' things from each other. Deal?" His voice warm and husky.

You smile as he buries your face into his still-wet chest. "Deal." You sigh.

He withdraws from you and firmly holds your chin, trailing kisses over your wet cheeks. He finds your lips and presses his mouth against yours. He dips his tongue into your mouth and you let out a soft moan. He tastes like whiskey.

Joel switches his grip from your chin to the back of your thighs as he lifts you in his strong arms. You feel his muscles flexing, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he carries you towards your bedroom. When you’re in his arms you’re convinced that nothing in the world could harm you.

Your heart races against your chest as he navigates the familiar terrain of your room. He places you gently on the bed, and the mattress yields to the shape of your body. Joel hovers above you, his eyes locked onto yours, dancing a shade of midnight. The soft illumination of moonlight casts shadows on his face, emphasizing the strong contours of his nose and face.

You can hear the muted sounds of rain outside, the creaking of the bed beneath you, and the rhythmic cadence of your breathing.

Joel's hands, now free from supporting your weight, shed his soaked jacket. You peer up at him as you work on your own sweater and discard it over your head. Your skin erupts in goosebumps with the exposure of your breasts. Your chest rising and falling steadily, nipples puckered like rosebuds. His eyes skate over your body with glint of hunger. You snake your hands underneath his shirt. He gets the idea and pulls his shirt off too.

You pull him closer into you with your legs as you writhe around underneath him, heels digging into his lower back. He leans over you, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck. Profanities escape his breath as he ruts his hips into yours. The undeniable hardness beneath his jeans becoming more prominent.

His kisses are now nips, blooming blue and violet markings along your throat and collar bone. You grip at the roots of his hair, and extend your neck further to give him some extra room.

“Joel, please,” you wimper as you throw your head back into the bed.

He hums against your throat, and it sends tingles down your body.

“I want you,” you continue to whine.

You feel him grin and pull back. He shuffles himself off the bed and kneels on the floor. You take a hard swallow as he works at the waistband of your shorts and pulls them off along with your panties in one swift motion. He runs his hands along your knee socks playfully.

“These can stay,” he declares with a deep voice that reverberates across the room.

His head is low and in line with your bare throbbing pussy. You chew your lip as he settles down between your thighs.

His hot breath ghosts across your needy clit as he holds your thighs in place.

He starts sucking on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Little breaths escape your mouth.

“Fuck Joel.” You let out, gripping at the bed sheets.

He continues working at your clit. His beard on his chin pressed firmly against your entrance. The scratch is almost sore but mixed with the waves of pleasure emitting from his lips, you don’t care.

“Jo- Joel,…I-,” you can no longer string a sentence together.

“Use your words baby,” he mumbles against you.

"I-I don't even… want you to e-eat my pussy. I just… want your c-cock in my pussy," you whine, eyes pressed shut. Head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Huh? Well, what do we say when we want somethin’?" Joel teases, glancing over you, observing your growing distress.

“P-please,” your lips quiver.

“Good girl.” He coos, shifting to stand over you like a phantom in the dark.

You hear the clink of metal as he undoes his belt and unzips his jeans to step out of them. He returns to the space between your legs reaching into his boxers to free his cock. The head looks angry and is leaking precum. He leans over you, and lines up to your entrance and pauses.

“Are you going to be good and answer your phone when I call?” He spits. A sheen of sweat forms on his skin, making his hair cling to his forehead.

“Huh…yeah…. I’ll be g-good I promise.” You moan, desperate for the stretch of his cock.

He slides into you, and you can't help but gasp. You're always so surprised by his sheer size. You wince as you try to adjust to accommodate him inside you.

“Ah…fuck.” He grunts, slowly building momentum in his thrusts. “Always, so tight for me baby.”

Your mouth falls open as the familiar swirl of your release is already growing in the pit of your stomach. Your nails carve small crescents into his sides as you clutch onto him.

Fuck, you needed this. You needed the stress to be fucked out of you.

More mumbles and moans slip from your mouth as you’re rocked into the bed, becoming more and more cock drunk.

“Such a good girl takin’ all of me.” Joel grits. His southern twang stronger when he's all riled up. His thrusts hit deeper, hitting a spot inside you so delicious it threatens to push you over the edge.

You pull your legs up higher around him, your hands cradle your toes just to give you something to cling onto. He felt like he was splitting you open. Filling you to the hilt.

The filthy sound of the bed creaking and the slapping of skin filled the room.

His hand moves to clasp around your throat, and you blink up at him, pupils blown out wide.

"Tell me you're my lil’ slut.” he spits.

"I-I'm your lil' slu-slut,” you cry out, your words catching in your throat.

“um…yes, you are darlin’, and don’t you forget it,” Joel whispers darkly in your ear.

“Now cum for me.” He grunts.

“Cum-for-me-prin-cess.” Each syllable punctuated with a hard thrust. His hips meeting yours. You were definitely going to feel it in the morning.

You feel your climax edging to the forefront and his words are enough to send you spiralling.

“Joel-fuck!” You pant as your muscles pull taught in your stomach, and your legs shake.

“That’s my baby.” He encourages you past the point of no return and you sink into your orgasm. You grip his cock tight like a vice and it’s too much for him. His orgasm spirts out hot. His cock pulsating inside you as he collapses his head into your neck.

“Oh fuck, baby, so good!” He exclaims- emptying his balls into you. You feel his spent spilling inside.

He peels himself off you and pulls out with a wince. You feel so painfully empty without him buried deep inside you, occupying every one of your senses.

He pulls you into the duvet and holds you close. You feel his warmth seeping into your bones. You both lie there with ragged breaths and oxytocin coursing through your veins. With a gentle touch, he swipes some stray hairs from your face as you nestle into his chest panting.

You lie there for a while watching the raindrops race each other on the windowpane, each tiny droplet leaving a fleeting mark on the glass. You can hear the steady beat of Joel’s heart under you. You were wiped out, eyes beginning to flutter closed.

In the quiet of your little cocoon, the minutes stretch like molasses until Joel breaks the comfortable silence.

With his arms wrapped around you, he whispers, “We'll face whatever comes together, darlin’," and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. You feel his warmth and love, and you know that you're not alone.

divider credit to @saradika

#joel miller x reader #no outbreak!joel miller #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller one shot #tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female oc #jealous!joel

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sibylsleaves · 2 months

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i really liked your take on the buddie apology and it not being shown on screen.

ive also been thinking about how even though the basketball game may be upsetting to watch from an audience perspective, its perfectly in character for eddie to not be upset about it. this is a man who once joined an illeagle fight ring and nearly killed a man rather then deal with his emotions asdfgjhk. if ANYONE understands processing your feelings through physical violence, its eddie.

is this a healthy way to handle jealousy? god no. does buck need to do some self work on this? yeah probably. but a Fictional Character in FICTION forgiving someone is not the same as giving a stamp of approval on the behavior in real life.

I mean, I also think there's a world of difference between "knocked someone a little too hard at the pick-up game" and like. if Buck had walked over to Eddie and just shoved him to the ground for no reason.

Sports get rough sometimes, even if it's supposed to be a friendly pick-up game, once the adrenaline starts going and people get competitive, yeah a bad foul like that can happen. Idk if it's just because I watch a lot of basketball (where fouling like that is commonplace) but I honestly didn't think it was this huge deal everyone was making it out to be. Like yeah, they're not playing in the NBA and it's a dick move to get THAT worked up at a pick-up game (and if I was the guy organizing it I might hesitate to invite him back or at least give him a talking to about sportsmanship 😂) but it's the kind of thing that can happen sometimes. And we as the audience obviously know why Buck's worked up and feeling competitive.

I do understand people getting more upset about it once Buck tells Maddie he "doesn't know" if he meant to hurt Eddie, but I think we also have to take into account that Buck is not necessarily a reliable narrator about his own motives. I don't think he ever on ANY level meant to hurt Eddie/cause him pain, but he certainly recognized something had gotten him worked up to the point where he fouled him like that. He registered that he was taking out some of his frustration on Eddie, and in typical Buck fashion he's guilt-spiraling about it and thinking like oh my god did I hurt Eddie ON PURPOSE am I a terrible person do I need to be put down like a rabid dog??? We've seen this from Buck before (ie in s5 when he decides to quit the team because it's "his fault" Chimney left, telling Eddie in s3 that maybe his fight club stuff was because of Buck, etc.)

I honestly was pretty surprised to come to tumblr and see people freaking out in all directions (either saying it was OOC for Buck or that he should like, go grovel on his knees to Eddie for 40 days and 40 nights).

Idk typing this out makes me feel like maybe it IS just people not understanding the sport of basketball--in a lot of sports, shoving someone like that would be totally out of pocket. But if you ever watch an NBA game, you'll see dudes getting slammed in the paint like that all the time and sometimes it won't even get called as a foul. It's certainly bad behavior in a fun little friendly game, but it's not like. Completely outside the bounds of how the sport is played. And does not, in MY opinion, rise to the level of intentional physical violence.

#sibyl answers #rainstorms-by-june

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snowed-leopard · 11 days

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I dont’t know if y’all are down for 1600 words of only slightly jargon filled and incredibly niche headcanons, but here we go?

The mercs go sailing! (And also boating / paddling in general. They deserve the options.)

(There’s a small glossary of terms, and reference photos of the boats I’m thinking about and mentioning at the end for your convenience. Please note I’m a pretty amateur sailor and I’ve prolly explained or typed something wrong) ((yes it got nerdy enough I felt a glossary was warranted, I’m sorry))

scout: Oh dear god this man is gonna be a mess until he gets it but when he does he goes ZOOMIN. put him in a sunfish or a racing boat, like a catamaran. first time he's on a steep heel he screams like a baby but when he realizes it means more speed he's totally down, hook him into that cat's trampoline straps and eat his sea spray, bitch. (He does not care that they are on a freshwater lake, it’s sea spray in his heart) he's a chronic capsizer in a sunfish though because he keeps overcorrecting when trying to catch all the wind he can. He is banned from the motorboats for reckless behavior and roughhousing enough to nearly send poor pyro and demo overboard. Gets sent up the mast on one of the bigger boats to fix a light on the top of the mast and nearly shits his pants despite being very assuredly safe.

heavy: he honestly would probably run the motor boats the most, but if there had been a chance for one of the really large sailing vessel (40-70ft) where he actually has room to move, he would be down. hes mostly just reading and fishing out beached or turtled mercs. occasionally drafted into helping scout unflip bc heavy actually weighs enough to leverage the daggerboard right, unlike scout, because he keeps filling his sail with water and making more effort to right the boat. He’d be a saint if he could work the 30 footers when they’re pulling the halyards to turn because he’d be able to pull those so well, is weary of the boom from his height

demo: he's chilling on a flat bottomed fishing boat napping and fishing for most of the day, but he periodically goes out in a canoe with sniper to catch some fish separate from the motor boat, and also mess around. his balance is just messed up enough that later in the day he can't really do any of the 20 foot boats and definitely not a sunfish, but if you catch him earlier in the day he'd probably manage a nice trip in a 20 footer. He gets a little rowdy on the big 30 foot and tries to swing around on the side stays while horsing around with scout and as the boat jerks, he totally falls. it was inevitable one of the men would do he just ended up the unlucky bastard to be the center of the man overboard drill

Engie: splits his time fishing on the motorboat and messing around with all the boats, he does a little of everything, he most of all likes the 20-30 footers because he can calculate out all the rope tensions and physical at play in the down moments between turns without having to worry too much. He does enjoy the quiet of being alone in the sunfish tho, the rest of the boys joke he just likes it because they’re the same size as him (small).   thinks about how much speed he’d need to run them over with in said sunfish to make them quit. Barely refrains. He is incredibly interested in tinkering with the motors on all of the sailboats and motorboats to see how he could improve their efficiency. Refrains on basis of not wanting to kill them and wreck the boat

sniper: snipes is mostly kayaking around away from everyone's chaos to do some fishing and birdwatching, probably hops on the 20 footer with demo for chill times, hates the sunfish because he kept getting hit by the boom because he was too tall to bend under it when turning and couldn’t rig it higher up and medic got tired of coming back in and taking care of the head wounds. He is having a grand time when scout’s not harassing him in the sunfish. But he does get very accurate at using his paddle to splash scout. Comes in with the biggest haul of fish, crabs, prawns, and inexplicably, 3 turtles, a duck, and a righteously confused snapping turtle for everyone to grill up at the end of the day.

pyro: on the catamaran with scout zipping around. heard the boat had a trampoline, was sorely disappointed, but is bouncing on it anyways. does not like the sunfish because swimming in their suit isn't fun when they don’t anticipate it and they kept tipping before they got the hang of it. bizarrely good at tying the knots for the lines though, no one knows how they manage this though their gloves. got heavy to drive the motor boat really fast while they sit on the front and despite how rough it is (you slam up and down a little when you go really quick) they are hooting and hollering and having the time of their life. Nearly lost the sunhat they brought along and cried. Sniper has to dive down in the lake to retrieve it for them.

spy: this man absolutely used to competitively race, he yearns for his old racing boat back in france, gets over it by trying to teach the others the noble art of it, scout is the only one who tries and races and they get along oddly well once they get past scouts incessant ability to turtle sunfish. he's also on the 20 footer a lot because it reminds him of his old boat (he brings it up at every opportunity, very insufferable about it) he can absolutely do all of the fancy knot tricks that are a bitch and a half to master. Will rant about boat maintenance and design. Very Opinionated about what makes some boats ugly or beautiful. One of the only times he gets down and dirty is to maintain or repair the boats and their motors. He surprises engineer majorly with his knowledge.

medic: mostly likes the big 30 footer but does not mind going on the kayaks once or twice. gets a little wild with the helm (steering) commands, gets very dramatic with it. most likely to get sea sick to me, he also manages to scamper around rigging with far more grace than you would think. He is utterly enamoured with the various ways these boats can and have injured people though. He finds the interiors of the larger ones quite cozy and likes the design. The birds love following him around as he sails and stretching their wings, nestle back on him when they get tired. It gives him a fucked up pirate vibe with the chilling grin and bloody dove from sitting on snipers head on his shoulder.

soldier: oh goodness, have you ever wanted more naval trivia? because this man has all of it, correct and not. used overhand knots as stopper knots on the sails (derogatory) and gave spy a conniption because of it. he's lookout on the bigger boats because he wanted to "command the largest of their naval fleet" he has an impressive ability to know the wind and gauge its changes and how to keep the right point of sail (how your sails are set up) he's very "old eccentric sailing guy" to me. He is a beast at charting and piloting (positive) and can do dead reckoning math (slightly complex little bit of locational determination based on what’s around you at what angle and speed) with surprising ease. Excellent at doing knots, uses them wrong. (He’s doing that part intentionally to give spy grief. Whoever said solly couldn’t have a little fun?)

sunfish, little 1-2 people boat, about 14 feet long, very nimble, but flip (and luckily unflip) easily. Need lower wind speeds because itty bitty (not my personal fave to sail, but incredibly popular still, they’re not bad I just prefer larger less flippy boats)

catamaran: two hulled boat, used a lot for racing, has a web like a trampoline stretched between them, with straps sewn on so you can slide your feet under to not fall, or clip yourself right onto one of the side stays. 1-3 people ish (incredibly fun to sail, seem like they’re slow until they grab the wind right then you’re gone. I know a dude with a hilarious custom sail for his)

20 footer: general term im using for all the medium sized 2-6 person sailboats of abt this length (this specifically I’m showing here is a Chrysler buccaneer 18! IRL I’m working to repair one currently)

30 footer: like above, but these are up to maybe 8 or more people, minimum of 4 ish though for the sake of control in my very non expert opinion (what I’m specifically showing here is a tartan 30, which I also routinely sail! Ours is a piece of shit with a busted internal motor so we bolted a comparatively tiny one to the back. and I lover her anyways, we call her water rat even though that is most definitely not her name)

heel: when you’re boats at an angle in the water relative to the water, how flat or angled you are, having this is good! It means you’re catching a lot of wind and less boat in the water means less drag (you can see it in the catamaran pic)

 daggerboard: a removable board in small boats like sunfish, (exists in other forms in larger boats) that points straight down and keeps the boat moving in a straight line, it pokes out the bottom and when you flip you pull down on this with all your (and your partner’s if you have one) weight to right your boat again. Do it fast or your sail will fill with water like a scoop and make it harder.

 sidestay: mostly on 20 ish and up size boats, part of the system of metal cables that put tension on your mast to keep it pointed up straight, one of the things u can hold on (never hold onto rope) on a boat for stability part from handles and safety lines

 boom: the metal pole running parallel to the deck of the boat at the bottom of the main sail, it's called a boom because when you turn, and it swings to the other side of the boat with the sail, and if your head is in the way well… it sounds like boom. Gives concussions even on sunfish, the power of metal tuning, and speed.

 halyards: the lines you pull on the big boats when turning, have enough tension that they need winches to tighten and take in often times

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dustedmagazine · 6 days

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Dust Volume 10, Number 5

Arab Strap

It’s lovely out. The lilacs are in bloom. The weather is warm enough to make a sweater/sweatshirt/coat redundant, and the bugs are swarming happily all over the garden. And yet, here we are, inside, ear buds in place, music on high, because however nice the weather, what if we missed something? What if, you, our readers missed something? Well, fear not, because we’re back with another set of short, impassioned reviews. Scottish lifers obsessed with their phones, South African jazzmen nearly forgotten, mumbling rappers, untethered improvisers—it’s all here for you. What, you were going out? Too nice to stay inside? Well, okay, it’ll be here when you get back.

Contributors include Ian Mathers, Justin Cober-Lake, Ray Garraty, Bill Meyer, Bryon Hayes, Jonathan Shaw, Andrew Forell, Christian Carey, Alex Johnson and Jennifer Kelly.

Arab Strap — I'm totally fine with it 👍 don't give a fuck anymore 👍 (Rock Action)

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Even more surprising than this Scottish duo’s perversely triumphant return a few years ago is that in 2024 Aidan Moffat is writing more about the internet than about cheating and booze. (He’s still writing about those things too though, don’t worry.) Less shocking is that his laceratingly keen eye is no less effective when turned on his own relationship with his phone, or the way women are treated by the “fathers, husbands, sons and brothers” around them as soon as the deniability of a screen is in place, or the psychology of someone who turns to QAnon. And not just technology; with songs addressing those who’ve never recovered from the early-pandemic hit to their ability to go outside and those capitalism leaves to die in solitude, this might be the least relationship-y Arab Strap LP to date. Malcolm Middleton roughs up their sound again to match the bruised, heartfelt brutality of Moffat’s subject matter and the result is one of the most simultaneously empathetic and unsettling records from a band who’ve never been short on either quality.

Ian Mathers

Bad Nerves — Still Nervous (Suburban)

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For their second album Still Nervous, punk rockers Bad Nerves take their ready-made formula and just amp everything up. Everything's loud and fast; the band clearly descends from the Ramones, but they've gone more manic. They secretly mix in flourishes of power pop. Underneath all the ruckus, they have a knack for catchy melodies, guitar solos and even vocal harmonies. Then Bad Nerves rough up the pop elements to make sure their disaffection comes through with enough spite to keep everything properly punk. The record does little to vary mood or tempo, but it doesn't need to. The band does one thing, but they excel at it. The Strokes comparisons the band's received mostly work, but the lo-fi production keeps everything sounding as if it's in an actual garage. “Plastic Rebel” offers a youthful rampage, bubble gummy enough to touch on Cheap Trick, but continually plowing forward. The Essex quintet closes the album with “The Kids Will Never Have Their Say,” an evergreen sentiment for the young and irritable. The point doesn't break new ground, but it's beside the point. Bad Nerves tap into something long running and rush the tradition on with plenty of verve and a hint of bile.

Justin Cober-Lake

Conway the Machine — Slant Face Killah (Drumwork \ EMPIRE)

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If it wasn’t for Conway’s name on the copy to the album you’d think this was a long solo producer tapes with 40 guests on it, each mumbling about something nobody’s interested in except for the mumbler himself. It is not an exaggeration: it really lasts more than an hour, has close to 20 guests (depends on how you count) and even though Slant Face Killah is produced by a dozen of people the beats all sound the same. If it already sounds awful even for the diehard Conway fans, grip for the worst part of it. It ain’t even worth the trouble to skip all the tiring guest verses for the Conway verses because they are not good anyway. A total failure.

Ray Garraty

Alex Cunningham — Rivaled (Storm Cellar)

Remember October 2020? The time of still-subdued traffic, no shows and a looming election? Rivaled is an artifact of that moment. Nowadays, Alex Cunningham is an intensely active improviser, based in St. Louis but active all around the middle of the USA. Back then he was stuck at home and moved to make some noise. “Faith” and “Void” offer two paths to obliteration. The former is pretty plugged in, with electronic effects and appropriated radio noise turning Cunningham’s violin into a full-on electrical storm. The latter is unreliant upon electricity, but maybe even more dogged and savage. Originally released as an edition of 20 cassette, Rivaled is now a CD with a bonus remix that mashes both tracks together, both vertically and temporally, like a piggybacked highlights reel. Of noise relaxes you, you’ll want this close at hand when the next election rolls around.

Bill Meyer

Dun-Dun Band — Pita Parka Pt. 1: Xam Egdub (Ansible Editions)

Dun-Dun Band is an all-star cast of characters comprising some of Toronto’s most creative musicians and led by musical polymath Craig Dunsmuir. Dunsmuir is a shape shifter, trading guises and styles for decades: a guitar loop conjuror known as Guitarkestra, a purveyor of mutant disco vibes alongside Sandro Perri in Glissandro 70, a welder of minimalism, dub, and avant-garde weirdness as Kanada 70. His Dun-Dun Band collects members of Eucalyptus and Badge Époque Ensemble along with stalwarts Colin Fisher, Karen Ng, Josh Cole and Ted Crosby. Pita Parka is the group’s debut on vinyl and features three extended cosmic jazz jams that fuse multi-horn interplay to African-inspired polyrhythm. The music slyly winks at 1970s fusion but is more akin to that of modern ensembles such as Natural Information Society. The extended nature of the pieces allows the reedists to stretch their lungs and roam around, and for the rest of the ensemble to engage in creative interplay. Pita Parka is a stellar offering from some of Toronto’s finest players and one of the city’s most inquisitive and inventive minds.

Bryon Hayes

Roby Glod / Christian Ramond / Klaus Kugel—No ToXic (Nemu)

The three participants in this session are all veterans of middle European jazz that’s free in spirit, if not always in form. Bassist Christian Ramond and Klaus Kugel are from Germany, and soprano/alto saxophonist Roby Glod is from Luxembourg; their collective cv includes work with Kenny Wheeler, Ken Vandermark and Michael Formanek. Online evidence suggests that they’ve played together as a trio since 2015, which explains their easy rapport and nuanced interaction, but this is their first CD. Freedom for these folks means having the latitude to linger over a tune or to settle into nuanced timbral exchanges, but if you carded them, they’d all have jazz driver’s licenses. This music swings, often at speed, which is a very important aspect of their shared aesthetic; the excitement often comes from hearing Glod invent intricate, evolving lines that are lifted off by fast walking bass lines and kept in the air with light but insistent cymbal play. While the album is named No ToXic, the sheer pleasure of hearing these guys lock in could truthfully be labeled counter-toxic.

Bill Meyer

Göden — Veil of the Fallen (Svart)

Longtime listeners of death doom will recognize the name Stephen Flam, guitarist and co-founder of storied band Winter whose Into Darkness (1990) concretized the subgenre in the US; the record was great, and still is. For his recent work with Göden, Flam has dubbed himself “Spacewinds,” and his bandmates follow suit, with stage names that are equal parts risible and ridiculously gravid: vocalist Vas Kallas performs as “Nyxta (Goddess of Night)” (those parens seem to be her idea…) and keyboardist Tony Pinnisi appears as “The Prophet of Göden.” Okay. This reviewer’s inexhaustible appetite for Winter’s slim output disposes him to think kindly of Flam, and there’s nothing especially terrible about Veil of the Fallen — but that’s only because there’s nothing all that special about the record. The sound of the title track is appealingly austere, and the NyQuil-chugging riffs of “Death Magus” are sort of fun. But any listeners hoping for flashes of the inimitable, awesome awfulness of Winter would be well advised to recall the meaning of inimitable. Not even Flam, it seems, can provide a convincing replica of those energies and textures.

Jonathan Shaw

Mick Harvey — Five Ways to Say Goodbye (Mute)

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Former Birthday Party and Bad Seeds member Mick Harvey looks back at his life on his autumnal new album “Five Ways to Say Goodbye.” Although he contributes only four original songs, his skill as an arranger and interpreter reaches its zenith. Harvey imbues his own and others’ songs with intense emotion that never tips into melodrama or histrionics. Augmenting his acoustic guitar with evocative string arrangements which provide counterpoint and color to his lyrics “When We Were Young and Beautiful” may be the finest song he has written; poetic in structure, elegiac in feeling, Harvey faces his past with dispassionate empathy for lost friends and acceptance of where he is now. His version of David McComb’s “Setting You Free” locates a Faustian menace in the song, using the strings to carry the dynamic thrust and emphasize the turbulent ambivalence of the original. “Like A Hurricane” becomes an intimate, piano ballad. By changing the tense from present to past and stripping the song of its rock roots, Harvey creates an emotional impact missing from Neil Young’s original. On “Demolition” Harvey replaces Ed Kuepper’s funereal drums with an off-kilter drum machine that clatters like an old projector to evokes the disconnections inherent in the lyrics. Harvey’s treatment of songs from The Saints, Lee Hazelwood, Lo Carmen and Marlene Dietrich are beautifully rendered. A wonderful summation of Harvey’s often underrated talent and an album that deserves a wider audience.

Andrew Forell

I Like To Sleep — Bedmonster’s Groove (All Good Clean Records)

This combo from Trondheim, Norway started out bridging the sound worlds of Gary Burton and Sleep. That’s a canny move if you’re looking for relatively untrodden ground, and as it turns out, a successful one. On Bedmonster’s Groove, which is album number four, the trio has dialed back the heaviness; you won’t hear a power chord until the beginning of side two. Instead, they have taken a turn towards experimentation. The microscopic applications of filters and effects give confer a variable glitter to Amund Storløkken Åse’s vibraphone, squeezable padding to Nicolas Leirtrø’s six-string bass, and some texturable variety to Øyvind Leite’s drums, which are all shown to good effect by some lean grooves and uncluttered melodies. Åse has also added some instrumentation; synths flicker and swirl in the empty spaces, and a mellotron heads a deliberate charge towards prog territory.

Bill Meyer

Kriegshög—Love & Revenge (La Vida Es un Mus)

Throughout the long existence of Kriegshög, it’s been customary to identify the band as a d-beat act. Love & Revenge is Kriegshög’s first release since 2019 and only its second LP in their (at least) 16 years of playing in and around Tokyo. Prolific, they ain’t, but the music is always worth waiting for. On this new record, the band rolls back the pace a bit and amps up the crusty, metal textures. Less squall and rampant chaos, more muscle and riffs that roll up in well-worn biker leathers — but all those qualifiers are relative. There’s still a raw edge to the production (if that’s the term we want…); the bass is laced with so much fat crackle that you’ll want to fry it and eat it. Sort of fun that one of the most volatile tunes on Love & Revenge is titled “Serenity.” Make of that what you will, but don’t spend too much time thinking about it. You’ll miss the next couple songs.

Jonathan Shaw

Niels Lyhne Løkkegaard and Quatuor Bozzini — Colliding Bubbles: Surface Tension and Release (Important)

Niels Lyhne Løkkegaard is a composer based in Copenhagen. On his latest EP he joins forces with the premiere Canadian string quartet for new music, Quatuor Bozzini, to create a piece that deals with the perception of bubbles replicating the human experience. In addition to the harmonics played by the strings, the players are required to play harmonicas at the same time. At first blush, this might sound like a gimmick, but the conception of the piece as instability and friction emerging from continuous sound, like bubbles colliding in space and, concurrently, the often tense unpredictability of the human experience, makes these choices instead seem organic and well-considered. As the piece unfolds, the register of the pitch material makes a slow decline from the stratosphere to the ground floor with a simultaneous long decrescendo. The quartet are masterful musicians, unfazed by the challenge of playing long bowings and long-breathed harmonica chords simultaneously. The resulting sound world is shimmering, liquescent, and, surprising in its occasional metaphoric bubbles popping.

Christian Carey

The Ophelias — Ribbon EP (self-released)

Ribbon is stormy, scathing and often quite beautiful. “Soft and Tame,” the EP’s emotional center, is all three. It begins wistfully: easy acoustic guitar strums and Andrea Gutmann Fuentes’ layered violin, nostalgic and close to sweet. Vocalist Spencer Peppet also starts slow, talking us through the aimless sensory motions of missing someone – “the sun on my cheek/as I walk around/I pick up a pear/I put it down/the radio plays a song we loved.” It doesn’t take long, however, for the skies to darken and the scene to become bleaker. By the line “the hollow sound/my jugular makes as it rolls around,” Mic Adams’s foreboding drums and a percussive creep of electric guitar have stalked in. And by the time Peppet has shown us “an overturned bus on the highway,” heard a“tornado warning” and told her subject to “stay the fuck away” for the second time, the band has built to a blown-out, climactic frenzy, the violin finding operatic heights over mammoth cymbal crashes.

In her review of The Ophelias’ last album, Crocus, Jennifer Kelly described Peppet as sounding “like she’s tilting her chin up and squaring her shoulders.” Likewise on Ribbon, where the band seems resigned to but also quite prepared for a fight. If “Soft and Tame” is aimed to knock “love in southern Ohio” down for good, then “Rind,” the final song, may tell us why they’re in the ring at all. At a brief break in the dynamic, flowering arrangement — it could be a particularly bucolic Magnetic Fields instrumental, especially in Gutmann Fuentes’ spry riffs — Peppet bursts out, “There you go!/On tour with my hometown friends/fucking score/they must have all forgotten!/Look back at what I tolerated.” There’s more to the story, but Peppet pulls back from the fray, settling things ominously: “to name it/makes your life/a little complicated.” Whatever “it” is, The Ophelias seem to have landed their punch. I don’t think I’ve heard more cutting, triumphant “Oohs” than those that end the song and Ribbon’s multifaceted fury with it.

Alex Johnson

Paperniks — Oxygen Tank Flipper 7-inch (Market Square)

Jason Henn is a master of catchy psychedelic punk. Honey Radar, his highest profile outfit, has unfurled a constant stream of hook-laden gems for well over a decade. Paperniks is his newest guise, a solo home recording project that amplifies the Guided by Voices meets Syd Barrett vibe of Honey Radar and doses it with nuggets of guitar noise. This tiny slab of wax is the sophomore Paperniks outing, following a single-sided lathe cut that strayed toward the clamorous edge of the octopus’s garden. On display are a pair of tunes that bear a striking resemblance to Honey Radar. “Oxygen Tank Flipper” is a groovy dose of psych replete with a catchy riff and a roller coaster bassline. Handclaps up the catchiness factor, as does Henn’s honey sweet sigh. “Essex Poem Dial” is a punky, garage-inspired tune. Henn’s reverb-soaked vocal hides inside the propulsive guitar chime. A noise interlude leads to a mellow vignette that slowly fades away. Paperniks showcases Henn’s boisterous side, and the music is certainly engaging, so hopefully there are more songs on the way soon.

Bryon Hayes

Ribbon Stage — Hit with the Most (Perennial/K)

Ribbon Stages hits the giddy sweet spot between punk and pop, their raucous guitar-drums-bass racket pounding on sweet, wistful little songs. The mixture varies with some cuts veering into the snaggle-toothed dream pop of, say, the Jeanines, while others rage harder and more dissonantly. “Stone Heart Blue,” the single, pulls the drums way up in the mix and lets distorted guitars and murmured vocals do battle attention behind them. The result is an uncanny balance of urgency, angst and solace, which is exactly what you want from pop-leaning punk. “Hearst” pushes slashing tangling guitar racket up to the foreground, letting a billowing squall spill over crisp drums and shout-sung vocals, while “Sulfate” lets a sighing romantic croon loose over boiling lavas of rock mayhem. Nice.

Jennifer Kelly

Rio Da Yung OG — Rio Circa 2020 (Boyz Ent)

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This is exactly what the title says: a compilation of Rio songs stashed on the label’s HDD, no more, no less. No filler but no hits either. The tape has a “Circa 2020” feel to it, reminding us of when Rio did what he wanted with no shades of doom hanging over the songs. It’s unlike the music he wrote after the trial when he knew he had to do some time. There’s a little bit of everything in here: three songs with RMC Mike, two tracks featuring Louie Ray, a song on a Sav beat, a song on an Enrgy beat and a song on a Primo beat. Yet it’s hardly enough to last us until Rio is free.

Ray Garraty

Spirits Rejoice—S-T (Fredriksberg)

Spirits Rejoice! by Spirits Rejoice

A remastered reissue of a 1978 recording, Spirits Rejoice captures boundary-crossing South African jazz scene, which touches on fusion, rock, funk, soul, disco Latin and African sounds. The ensemble includes some of that time and place’s pre-eminent jazz musicians, Sipho Gumede of the fluid, loping bass lines, breezy, insouciant reeds-man Robbie Jansen, South African pioneering percussionist Gilbert Matthews, keyboardist Mervyn Africa and a very young Paul Peterson on electric guitar. The music is ebullient and clearly tilted towards pop accessibility, and the gleaming sheen of 1970s often dilutes its heat and fury. This is especially true on “Happy and in Love” which could double as a lost Earth Wind and Fire cut. Elsewhere, though, as in “Woza Uzo Kudanisa Nathi,” fervid polyrhythms, tight squalls of sax and an exhilarating call and response light up the groove, fusing African chants with a swaggering samba rhythm. And “Papa’s Funk,” is just what it sounds like—a slithery, stuttery, visceral bass-led swagger that bubbles and smolders and twitches in a universal funk.

Jennifer Kelly

Various Artists — GmBH: An Anthology of Music for Fashion Shows 2016 – 2023, Volume 1 (Studio LABOUR)

GmbH: An Anthology of Music for Fashion Shows 2016-2023 Vol. 1 by Various Artists

LABOUR is a multimedia project of Iranian musician Farahnaz Hatam and American percussionist/composer Colin Hacklander. Based in Berlin, the duo has collaborated widely and eclectically to produce soundtracks for sustainable, underground fashion house GmBH. This compilation collates 12 examples and showcases a variety of work from an international roster of artists including Iraqi-British oud player Khyam Allami, Turkish born DJ Nene H, Kuwaiti musician Fatimi Al Qadiri, American performance artist MJ Harper and Indonesian noise duo Gabber Modus Operandi. The thread that runs through all this is cross pollinations between genre, geography, and chronology. Allami’s oud plays against LABOUR’s electronic washes and synthetic percussion with each element emphasizing and interrogating differences in modality and structure. On “White Noise” LABOUR contrast a 16th century harpsichord piece with static and effects dissolving into a robotic club beat which ends up evoking a cyborg Hooked on Classics. Their collaboration with Harper on the spoken word “ablution” is a reflection on love, religion, and abnegation with elements of gospel, eastern and creeping doom ambience. The Anthology has much of interest but is essential for Belgian composer Billy Bultheel’s “YLEM” featuring German countertenor Steve Katona who soars incandescent from a backdrop of industrial grind. The contrast between earthly weight of the music and radiant purity of the voice is breathtaking.

Andrew Forell

Vertonen — taif’ shel (Oxidation)

taif' shel by Vertonen

Give the Oxidation label credit for radical truthfulness. One of the bummers of our time is the frequency with which folks on BandCamp and elsewhere will call a short-run, blue or green-faced disc a CD when they are selling you a CD-R. Oxidation, on the other hand, is named after the process that will eventually render its products unplayable. On to the sounds. Vertonen is Blake Edwards, who has been working around the edges of sound for over 30 years. On taif’ shel, he displays absolute mastery over the combination of collected, electronically generated and carefully edited sounds. His skill rests on three qualities; knowing where to place sounds, knowing how long to let them carry on and having some pretty good ideas about which ones to use in the first place. He can make a drone of infinite (but never unnecessary) complexity, or punctuate flipping film-ends with a precisely situated, never repeated sequence of chops and splices, to name just two examples found on this impermanent but thoroughly rewarding disc.

Bill Meyer

Villagers — That Golden Time (Domino)

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That Golden Time is Villagers’ sixth album. The Conor O’Brien led project presents its most eclectic outing to date. A number of the songs are afforded pop treatment, consisting of memorable tunes and gentle, polished arrangements. The double-tracked vocals on “First Responder” is a case in point, about a relationship fragmenting while the singing coalesces, an interesting tension. “No Drama,” initially pared down to piano and O’Brien’s laconic vocals, eventually adds a coterie of Irish traditional instruments. “Keepsake” veers closer to mid-tempo electronica, with overlaid synth repetitions and treated vocals. The title track employs sustained violin lines, played by Peter Broderick, and an intricate form with supple harmonic shifts. “Brother Hen,” on the other hand, recalls the folk influences present from Villagers’ beginning. The diversity is diverting, even though That Golden Time feels like a collection of singles instead of an album statement.

Christian Carey

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justforbooks · 8 months

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The Nobel prize in literature has been awarded to 64-year-old Norwegian author Jon Fosse “for his innovative plays and prose which give voice to the unsayable”. His works include the Septology series of novels, Aliss at the Fire, Melancholy and A Shining.

“His huge oeuvre, spanning a variety of genres, comprises about 40 plays and a wealth of novels, poetry collections, essays, children’s books and translations,” said Anders Olsson, chairman of the Nobel committee for literature. “Fosse blends a rootedness in the language and nature of his Norwegian background with artistic techniques in the wake of modernism.”

“I am overwhelmed, and somewhat frightened. I see this as an award to the literature that first and foremost aims to be literature, without other considerations,” Fosse said in a statement.

He also told the Norwegian public broadcaster NRK that he was “surprised but also not” to have won. “I’ve been part of the discussion for 10 years and have more and less tentatively prepared myself that this could happen,” he said.

Jacques Testard, Fosse’s fiction publisher, said on hearing the news: “He is an exceptional writer, who has managed to find a totally unique way of writing fiction. As his Norwegian editor Cecilie Seiness put it recently in an interview: if you open any book by Jon and read a couple of lines, it couldn’t be written by anyone else.

“His fiction is incantatory, mystical, and rooted in the landscape of the western fjords where he grew up,” Testard added. “It’s very important to remember that he writes in Nynorsk or New Norwegian, a minority language in Norway, a political act in itself. He’s also an exceptional playwright and poet. He’s an incredible mind, and it couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.”

The Norwegian writer’s English translator Damion Searls said he is thrilled Fosse’s work will now find an even wider audience. “I first brought Fosse’s fiction into English almost 20 years ago. I read Melancholy in German and immediately felt that the work was brilliant and needed to be translated. I found an American publisher and a co-translator, and started learning Norwegian”, he told the Guardian. “I have since translated around 10 books of his, depending on how you count them, including a libretto, a play and a forthcoming children’s book.”

Though the author and translator mostly communicate via email and hadn’t met in person until the 2022 International Booker prize events in London, Searls considers Fosse a friend. “He is the same kind, wise, modest, friendly, supportive person over email as you would expect from his novels, and corresponding with him has always brought me the same kind of peace and serenity his novels so magically impart.”

Born in 1959 in Haugesund on the west coast of Norway, Fosse grew up in Strandebarm. Aged seven, he nearly died in an accident, which he said was “the most important experience” of his childhood and one that “created” him as an artist. In his adolescence, he aspired to be a rock guitarist, before turning his ambitions to writing.

His debut novel, Raudt, svart (Red, Black), was published in 1983. His first play to be performed, Og aldri skal vi skiljast (And Never Shall We Part), was staged at the National Theater in Bergen in 1994. Yet, the first play he wrote, Nokon kjem til å komme (Someone Is Going to Come), would lead to his breakthrough in 1999 when French director Claude Régy staged it in Nanterre.

Fosse went on to become the most-performed Norwegian playwright after Henrik Ibsen. He has written more than 30 plays, including Namnet (The Name), Vinter (Winter) and Ein sommars dag (A Summer’s Day). His longer works include the Septology trilogy, the third volume of which was shortlisted for the international Booker prize in 2022.

Septology, which Fosse started during a pause from playwriting and after converting to Catholicism in 2013, is about an ageing painter, Asle, living alone on the south-west coast of Norway and reflecting on his life. There in Bjørgvin lives another Asle, who is also a painter but struggles with alcohol. The doppelgangers are consumed by the same existential questions about death, faith and love.

In 1989, the same year that Fosse’s novel Naustet (“Boathouse”) came out, the writer taught the fellow Norwegian author Karl Ove Knausgård, who was a student at the Academy of Writing in Hordaland. “Fosse’s voice is unmistakable in whatever he writes, and is never anything if not present,” wrote Knausgård in 2019.

Fosse’s UK publisher is Fitzcarraldo Editions, which also publishes Annie Ernaux, the winner of the 2022 Nobel prize in literature. Fosse’s win marks the London-based independent publisher’s third win in five years: Olga Tokarczuk was made laureate in 2018. The prize was postponed and awarded in 2019 instead due to a sexual assault scandal involving the husband of one of the academy’s former members which led to several members resigning.

Fosse resides between Austria and Norway. He will receive the prize at a ceremony in Stockholm on 10 December. He will receive 11m SEK (£821,209), up from 10m SEK awarded last year.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #Jon Fosse #2023 Nobel prize in literature

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klaprisun · 4 days

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One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 24

The next few days have been a complete downpour. The rain was nonstop and had even turned to a thunderstorm. It was too wet out to do anything else, so I figured it would be a great day to run out to the mines.

I have recovered from my total meltdown a couple days ago too which was not my best moment. The pizza ended up tasting just fine except for it being a bit watery. It could've just been from my tears though. I still have a lot of pent up anger which is also why a trip to the mines will be beneficial.

The walk up to the mountains was brutal. The wind and rain obstructed my view immensely, nearly causing me to turn back. I didn't though, and continued the rest of the way.

I seek shelter in the mine entrance and take a breather before starting the treacherous descent into the mines. Last time it got pretty gruesome down here, but I managed to come out on top. The monsters and nasty creatures don't stand a chance against me. Thankfully, they sell swords in Pelican Town for this situation. I had also brought along my pickaxe, of course, to mine away at the rock.

I used the mine elevator to get down to Level 25 of the mine. I had gotten far enough down last time that I was able to get the elevator to go down that far. I just need to tug on the chains underneath to get the gears working when I go down by ladder. I have to keep doing it every so often so it can go farther down to each level with me.

When I reach the 25th floor of the mine, I immediately hear the sounds of the monsters. 2 flying bugs come straight for me, so I take my sword from its holster and wield it into the air, swinging back and forth.

The two bugs slice right in half and fall to the ground. I kick their remains to the side and start walking deeper. There is usually a ladder under rocks in the mine, I just have to break them apart to find them. All while keeping myself protected from the hoards.

I work my way all the way down till somewhere around level 40. It has been such a rush to let out all of my rage on the stupid enemies that tried to attack me

"WHY DID SHE HAVE TO GO BACK TO ALEX?!" I scream as I swing my sword at a Frost Jelly. "WHY DID SHE LEAD ME ON?!" I scream again as I take another hit, this time killing it. My voice ricochets off the empty walls of the mine, allowing me to hear a playback of everything I say.

Out of anger, I spin around and throw my pickaxe at the stone wall. It was such a hard throw, that my pickaxe stuck itself right into the mine wall. I slump down onto a nearby rock and put my head in my hands.

I reach into my backpack to grab out something to eat. I made sure to bring lots of snacks to keep me fueled for the journey, but I noticed I had run out. I take it as my sign to return to the surface.

Just as I approached the ladder to get up, I realized I had left my pickaxe in the wall. I yank it from where it was lodged and take a step back to the ladder. I freeze in my tracks, a weird feeling washes over me.

The air suddenly turns misty causing my sight to be altered. I wield my sword in front of me and keep back back pressed up against the wall of the cave as best I can.

A swarm of Frost Bats dart out from the misty darkness directly at me. I swing my sword frantically, killing off as many as I can. Many of them dodge and maneuver around in the air, causing me to tire as I try to swing at them.

"I can't-I can't keep up," I pant, as one of the Frost Bats hits me in the side of the head. Another one dives in at my stomach and knocks the wind out of me. Clutching at my stomach with one hand, I continue to try to defend with my other. I have never been beaten up so badly by a monster in these mines before, but they must sense that I'm off my game today. I also have never come across a huge swarm like this before.

One of the bats knocks into my hand so hard that my sword falls from my hand and clatters somewhere on the ground. I cry out as I realize my only bit of hope is hidden somewhere in the thick mist. I swing my arm around in the air to protect myself, but also try to feel around with my foot, hoping I can find where it fell.

My life flashes before my eyes as a bat beelines directly into my face, causing me to fall backwards. I feel as my body soars through the air straight for the ground. I brace myself for impact, but then everything goes black.

🌻 🌻 🌻

Somewhere in the distance I hear a faint sound of a machine beeping. The longer I listen to it, the closer it gets. As it gets closer, the more it sounds like it is right beside me. I go to move my head to investigate, but it doesn't go anywhere. I try to open my eyes to see where I am, but they don't want to open. My body feels tired, and my muscles just don't feel like complying with my brain.

I try everything to get myself to move. Finally, I get my hand to twitch. This clues my muscles in that I'm awake and they all decide to want to work one at a time. Slowly, I move my arm to lay across my stomach.

"You're finally awake!" A voice chimes through the air. I try opening my eyes to see who it is, but I'm met with an intense brightness that causes me to bring my hand up to shield my eyes from it.

"Uuughhhh" I groan. I force my eyes to adjust more to the overhead light so I can take in the surroundings

"Take your time. You were knocked out pretty good," the same voice says. I slowly nod but a sharp pain pulses through my head. I cry out in pain and shut my eyes again.

"I have some medicine to help the pain. Open your mouth the best you can and I can get you some water to wash it down."

I open my mouth as demanded and feel a small pill hit my tongue. Next, I feel a plastic rim of a water bottle being pressed against my lips. Whoever it is tips it and allows a tiny bit of water to pour into my mouth. I swallow it along with the pill.

"It should help soon. In the meantime, keep trying to adjust your eyes to the light and move your hands around. Get the blood flowing again," the voice instructs.

Again, I try to open my eyes, this time expecting the bright light. I squint them for a bit, then slowly open them all the way. I move my hands into a thumbs up gesture and a head pops over me.

"Great Job! You'll be better in no time!" The voice turned out to be Harvey. I should've guessed. He is the doctor in Pelican Town.

"How'd... I... get here?" I muster the energy to say.

"Linus found you! You're lucky he was passing by!" Harvey says cheerfully. I have enough energy to raise my eyebrow and put a confused look on my face. What the hell was Linus doing on Level 40 in the mines?

Harvey disappears from view on what I assume is a rolling stool. I hear the wheels rattle along the floor as he rolls away.

I sit by myself for a few minutes, counting the ceiling tiles and tapping my fingers rhythmically. I lose interest quickly and decide it's time to get up. I push my upper body to the upright position, wobbling around a bit from my brain not catching up on the movements. The pain throbs through my head for only a second and then it fades.

Harvey heard me moving around and peaked his head around the corner. "What are you doing?"

"I'm feeling better. I can go now," I reply, standing up from the hospital bed. My knee pops from my weight and it causes me to fall back onto the bed.

"Not yet you aren't Your knee is trying to tell you something," he chuckles and rolls back around the corner.

"How long was I out for?" I shout to Harvey around the corner. He comes back into view on his rolly chair.

"Overnight. I'm surprised you recovered as fast as you did. I'll keep you here for an hour and then let you head out, alright? I want to make sure you are feeling fine," he replies while cleaning off some kind of surgical tool. "Oh by the way, you have visitors. They just arrived."

Anxiously, I wait to see who has come to visit me. I hear a couple of shoes squeak against the tile floor as they approach.

"Danny! You are okay!" Leah sings as she rounds the corner. Elliot is not too far behind her.

"I survived," I shrug nonchalantly.

"Just because you got rejected doesn't mean you have to throw yourself into the mines," Elliot jokes playfully. Leah nudges his shoulder to tell him to cut it out.

I fall back on the hospital bed, keeping my legs hung over the edge. I sprawl my arms out wide and look back up at the ceiling.

"I had to distract myself someway, right? I got some crazy crystals out of it," I say while rummaging into my pocket. The rest I had put into my backpack, wherever that is.

"If it helps, she has been asking about you. She was wondering where you were yesterday. She also asked how you are, what you are up to, what you ate for lunch, what you were two years ago today on this day, and what your mom's middle name is," Leah smirks, clearly adding random things to the list.

"What did she ACTUALLY want to know?" I roll my eyes and laugh.

"Just how you are and where you were yesterday. I guess you'll be seeing her sometime soon," Elliot wags his eyebrows.

"Not that I'd want to," I groan and get up from the bed.

"You look awful...No offense," Elliot takes in my battered and bruised state. I have cuts going up and down my arms, and legs, along with huge, vivid bruises in random spots on my body. Apparently I can never not have some kind of injury or bruise on my body. The black eye took long enough to heal, but now I have to get rid of at least 5 more.

I look into the reflection of a nearby shiny surface and see several more cuts and bruises on my face.

"I probably have a goose egg on the back of my head. I remember falling backwards but after that I was unconscious. I also woke up with a terrible pain in my head. Harvey gave me medicine, thank Yoba," I explained to the two of them.

"You're good to go now, Danny. Have a great day! Make sure to be more prepared next time and don't go when you are caught up in your feelings," he sends a wink my way and walks through the door to what I assume is his apartment. I hadn't even gotten to thank him.

"We will walk you home to make sure you make it there. Don't want you unconscious again in less than 24 hours," Leah takes my arm in her hand and drags me outside.

The three of us goof around and tease each other the whole way back to my place, taking my mind off of everything for a bit. Their company was the best kind of medicine I could ask for.

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wallisninety-six · 10 months

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The Bittersweet Tragedy- and Triumph of The Beach Boys' "Sunflower" (1970)

Pet Sounds and the collapse of Smile in 1967 is often seen by mainstream critics and some fans alike as *the* defining moment where The Beach Boys lost the script, lost their knack for quality album-making and started a creative downward spiral for the band and Brian Wilson himself. Things *were* far from rosy, but this is also far from true. In reality, that exact moment occurred with the release, and total chart failure of Sunflower in 1970.

The truth is that Brian, while definitely ceding his leadership role slowly, was still writing tons of music for the band and remained heavily involved (with the exception of the album 20/20 in 1969, when he was in a psychiatric hospital) with the creation & production process of the band's albums from 1967-1970, and Sunflower was no exception. This time though, he wasn't alone.

Since Brian had taken a firm leadership role since the band's early days and practically cemented his position with Pet Sounds & Smile- the group's unease with his direction grew, tensions rose considerably, and infighting at times got really heated- and after Smile's collapse, the rest of the group emerged to slowly & gradually offer their songwriting talents and make music more as a collective than ever before. Although very fragmented- 20/20 represented a new peak for the band actually working *as* a band together.

With the band in a severe amounts of debt, depressed, struggling to find their footing in a practical power vacuum, plus submitting album after album to their new labels (with nearly 40 tracks) and having them constantly be rejected- the fact that Sunflower exists as it does is nothing short of a miracle. Not less because the Boys- even if it was for a fleeting moment, found harmony and could work together effectively as a true collective, making a unanimous statement about the power of music and love, each in their own way. It's seen by some as the band's Abbey Road, and it's not hard to see why.

Each and *every* single member showed off their music chops and in their own way- with so many moods and feelings, a variety of vocalists plus different (and even groundbreaking) instrumentals. The stars aligned for this extremely hard-fought and incredibly genuine album. But it wasn't enough.

When it was released, critics liked the album fine enough, but most questioned the need for anyone to listen to the Beach Boys anymore, throwing them to the wayside. Sunflower *peaked* at 151 at the Billboard 200, their worst showing ever at that time- *this* was the defining moment that started the downward spiral.

Just like with Pet Sounds, Brian was absolutely devastated by the commercial failure & lukewarm response of Sunflower- only now his psyche was much more damaged and rattled than it was in 1966, and he retreated further and further away from the band, famously staying in bed for over 2 years, overeating and abusing drugs, and barely appearing in later albums until 1976, and even then he wasn't as involved thanks to the extremely toxic relationship between him and his abusive, controlling "therapist" Eugene Landy.

The rest of the band started to drift apart in a major way, with acrimonious and even extremely bitter tensions hitting a fever pitch- with individual members traveling to concerts *separately* and with Carl Wilson being the one single thread that kept the band from completely collapsing. Fellow Beach Boy Bruce Johnston would leave the band in 1972 and wouldn't return many years later. Dennis Wilson would chart out his own solo career, but his promising rise was tragically cut short by drug & alcohol issues that would eventually kill him in 1983. Carl Wilson- the youngest member, would die from lung cancer in 1998 at only 51 years old, and the band completely fractured virtually for good. Creative and fully collaborative songwriting would end as the band became an oldies act cashing in on their past success.

Sunflower has seen a bit of a resurgence since around the 2000s, not only slowly but surely becoming a cult classic with a devoted following, but it's also finally received recognition from the types of major publications that once shunned it (and the band)- with the likes of Rolling Stone, The Guardian, and AV Club ranking it as one of the greatest albums ever made. Perhaps the biggest tragedy is that the rest of the band members' individual hard work and legitimate talents for music weren't recognized for decades- and for Carl and Dennis Wilson, they never would in their lifetimes.

The history before and after Sunflower makes the listening experience much more emotional and incredibly bittersweet- not less because it still feels so tragically timeless and genuine- the band came out of some of the darkest years of their life to make an incredibly gorgeous work of love. Unlike many of their much later albums, there was more of a broad, positive reception to Sunflower among the band members- with lifelong rivals Brian Wilson and Mike Love coming together in agreement to sing it's praises.

It just wasn't made for it's time- but with the band members getting older and as the past fades away, it's about time to give it a shot, and realize (as much as i admire him) that The Beach Boys was not just Brian Wilson- it was filled to the brim with talent, and that even in the darkest times, setting aside differences and working together can truly create something beautiful.

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i-dream-of-twilight-sparkle · 8 months

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As mentioned in the post I did on the 6th about the anniversary of the blog. I am introducing a new timeskip. This time to the future depicted in the series finale, The Last Problem. The previous timeskip related to the Earnest Empathetic Change was only by an additional 10 years. This will add another 15 years on top of that for a total of 25 years after the Ending of the End. With the Mane 6 in their late 40s/50s. There won’t be an accompanying story like Earnest Empathetic Change was for the previous time skip. This is simply a look at what’s similar and different from the canon timeskip from the show

Though before I get to the The Last Problem. I’m going to try to briefly recap the important bits of everything leading up to this. Talking about the 2 previous eras.

I DREAM OF TWILIGHT SPARKLE (AKA How Twilight became a genie) [Between Seasons 2 & 3] + RETURN TO SADDLE ARABIA [Between Seasons 4 & 5] + SECRETS OF THE DRAGON'S TEAR [Shortly after Ending of the End]

This for the most part is the era takes takes place during or something between seasons of the canon show. This is of course the most documented part of the blog so I’ll try not to be too descriptive. But a good majority of the blog’s history goes from all the way from after Season 2 all the way to a year or so after The Ending of the End. As for actual show events, most of the general ideas remains the same (Twilight still becomes a princess, the same villains show up, the School of Friendship still happens, etc.). Although there are important differences here and there. Some of which are explored more further in smaller one-shot stories.

Secrets of the Dragon’s Tear introduced the most important lore bits that have impacted the blog’s future since. Up to and including revealing that an older-than-canon Sunset (The Equestria Girls movies are not canon to I Dream of Twilight Sparkle too) that was never evil who had lost her life to Cozy Glow’s family. And of course the ability of Spike’s dragon tear that he received at the end of Return to Saddle Arabia to summon spirits of the deceased. Revealing many secrets that only the dead could tell.

EARNEST EMPATHETIC CHANGE (10 Years after Ending of the End)

With Equestria in an ever increasing era of peace. It was time to attempt at closing off another loose end that had impacted events in Equestria before any of the Mane 6 were born. Starlight was tasked to speak with Queen Chrysalis, and receiving gradual help from each of her many friends. While using her experience as a counselor and a principal of the School of Friendship to reach an understanding with a queen to thaw her seemingly ice cold heart.

Through careful talks and gentle pushes. Starlight and Chrysalis slowly began to see there was more in common between them then either had thought possible. Even as things looked hopeless when Chrysalis found out Sunset Shimmer, the one she has blamed for years for the deaths of her previous hive was Starlight’s late mother. Starlight still stood strong in backing Chrysalis nearly to the point of letting Chrysalis kill her, if Chrysalis feels she can’t forgive her because of a blood relation to who she saw as her eternal enemy.

Using the Spirit summoning ability. Chrysalis would get to speak with Sunset to get a sense of the real her. Though even as the obvious disconnect between Sunset and Chrysalis’ point of view on the tragic day that destroyed her previous hive. It takes the use of time travel (In context, time travel works similarly to Dragonball Z’s style. It only creates a new timeline, doesn’t affect the current one) for Chrysalis to see the truth point blank.

Chrysalis would afterward get to speak with the spirits of her siblings and her parents. The reunion with the spirits of her family, along with the return of newfound friends finally lets Chrysalis receive the same change Thorax and many of the new hive achieved. And it wasn’t just Chrysalis who changed that day, this was also Starlight’s last test before ascending to Princesshood.

With a new pair of royal “sisters” and Queen Chrysalis now firmly an ally. The harmony in Equestria became ever stronger.

THE LAST PROBLEM (25 Years after the Ending of the End)

Now… we fast forward to what was the show’s canon time skip. As mentioned before, this is another 15 years added on top of the previous timeskip. 25 years after Ending of the End. The Mane 6 in their late 40’s/Early 50’s

For the most part, the episode would play out the same but I thought it’d be important to layout important differences. Although one thing I should probably consider is maybe the goodbye flashback scenes aren’t as dramatic. Since Twilight’s genie powers (Not to mention the portal gum) makes it pretty easy for Twilight and her friends to quickly visit each other within seconds if truly needed. That’s not to say there isn’t any hesitancy and/or worries about Twilight leaving Ponyville to rule Equestria from Canterlot. They'd still decide to travel together in the end as they do, and maybe even a little group hug cry. But there's less concern about their friendship drift apart as they spend less time together. They have more capability of reaching out to eachother faster even from long distances.

PRINCESS TWILIGHT SPARKLE AND SPIKE

(Just pretend for a moment Twilight still has her genie attire in this screenshot)

Twilight of course remains Ponyville’s benevolent leader alongside her adopted family Starlight and Spike (Sister and son, respectively). By this point, Twilight regularly takes the form of a more Celestia-shape as seen in the episode. Although she did have to study Starlight’s growth in order to replicate it as best she could. Her smaller stature from 25 years ago remains her “true” form so to speak. If she ever needs to feel more approachable, she'll sometimes shift to her more normal pony size. And sometimes she may also do the same thing if/when her friends are feeling particularly nostalgic.

Spike at this point is still the only dragon with a dragon tear capable of summing spirits. But Twilight, Starlight, and Spike are preparing for the day a genuine Dragon tear appears. So that one day Spike can entrust and teach dragons the responsibilities of using the dragon tears. Just as the right ponies are entrusted to become genies. So are the right dragons to wield Dragon tears as spirit summoners. It’s also negotiated with Sultan Theandri II and Sultana Moondancer for the day that Saddle Arabia seeks the return of more genies. to slowly restore the ancient culture they once had.

LUSTER DAWN

The first significant difference (At least, from fanon expectations) I should talk about is Luster Dawn. In the IDOTS universe, she is the daughter of Sunburst and Sunshine Smiles. The popular fanon I understand is that she’s Starlight and Sunburst’s daughter. However, the changes from as early in the timeline as Secret of the Dragon’s Tear makes that impossible (…Or at least pretty squicky to think about) since the two are cousins due to Sunset being old enough to be both Starlight’s mother, and Sunburst’s Aunt. She is thus still related to both Starlight and Sunburst. Just not in the same way as the more common fanon depictions.

Also while I don’t know if it’s clear or not what kind of student Luster Dawn is to Twilight. She could be on the road to being groomed to be another Alicorn ruling by Twilight’s side in the canon universe as I doubt Twilight’s retiring that early. And there is an open spot should Twilight decide another alicorn in Canterlot is needed. But naturally in the IDOTS universe, she already has Luster’s own aunt in that role. What she ends up doing is as much a mystery as anything else. (And I doubt G5 is going to get into whatever Luster Dawn did if any season that takes place after the G4 movie even applies to it’s history) But my guess she has a more normal life. Better at magic than her father, but also not the prodigy either Sunset, Twilight, or Starlight were at her age.

PINKIE PIE

Pinkie has long been married to Cheese Sandwich at this point. Which is shared with canon. Much of The Last Problem is left vague enough to be able to be on the fence on what’s there. But Pinkie X Cheese is the one part they doubled down and made clear happened more than anything else for certain.

Also, addressing something about their child. Lil Cheese: They’re a gender fluid kid that wished from Twilight to have the ability to shift between physically being a colt and a filly at will. Based on the idea that Lil’ Cheese was a colt in the script but looks like a filly in the final episode.

I’d also say by now she was given ownership of Sugar Cube Corner once Mr. and Mrs. Cake decided to retire. The grown up cake twins are now the chief bakers, though Pinkie and/or her husband Cheese still bake from time to time if they’re not available.

RARITY

Rarity is still not married. But not because she didn’t find love. She eventually was inspired by the dragons' and changelings’ approach to love. It took for some time to really embrace it, as she had once thought that the perfect wedding was a strong desire of hers. But slowly the idea of leaving herself open to anyone she’d mutually partake in a relationship with, sometimes multiple at once began to appeal to her more. Her life won’t be as long as a dragon or a royal changeling, but it’s what she feels like is her ultimate act of generosity. As for who she’s been partnered with. Both her and her partners have confidentially made that all a secret. So it’s all up to your imagination, who or how many she’s been with.

APPLEJACK

Apologies to any AppleDash shippers who were really happy with the possible hints that she and Rainbow ended up together canonically. But that doesn’t happen in the IDOTS universe, she instead marries Rara/Coloratura. I may even say they have a child at this point. (…Although I haven’t designed them, if I’m given a reason to make them I can do that at some point)

RAINBOW DASH

Rainbow Dash is still captain of the Wonderbolts. Defying expectations of her age again and again, though she knows eventually age will catch up to her. But as she puts it, she loves challenging father time for as long as it’s still safe for her body to.

And in the love life department, Rainbow doesn’t have a special some pony. Though to be honest, a part of me just feels Rainbow isn’t one to easily settle down even after she retires from the Wonderbolts. Plus, it shouldn’t be necessary to every character that they eventually have someone. (Could even be said her parents' obsession over her turned her off from a family life). She just prefers to be at most everyone younger then her’s unofficial big sister

FLUTTERSHY

Fluttershy and Discord eventually decided to stop trying to confuse ponies and eventually had their own wedding. The strange thing is their wedding went perfectly normal, like really oddly normal. But then all of a sudden… disaster struck when it became a RED WEDDING… in which everyone threw tomatoes and/or other foods that are known to make red splotches when thrown at each other for a massive food fight.

STARLIGHT GLIMMER

Starlight of course is not still the Principal of the School as she is in the canon The Last Problem. She’s by Twilight’s side as the younger Alicorn due to the many differences and/or additions depicted in Secrets of the Dragon’s Tear plus Earnest Empathetic Change. The Princesses of Friendship and Empathy leading the current era of peace for Equestria. Her cousin Sunburst is who is promoted to become the new Principal of the School.

Unlike Twilight she is changed naturally by Alicorn ‘puberty’. As mentioned previously, Twilight even studied her growth to replicate it in some fashion herself.

YOUNG SIX

Sandbar and Yona are still together, not quite married but soon getting to that point. They both also retain their teaching roles at the school. Ocellus has stepped down from her Generosity Teacher role to accept her role as a queen of the hive with guidance by the reformed Chrysalis. Silverstream is a high-ranking member amongst a Seaquestria Waterbolts group. Smolder is still the loyalty teacher at the school. Gallus is the captain of Twilight’s royal guard.

The CMC

Unlike in the canon Last Problem, none of the CMC are teachers at the School of Friendship. Smolder, Twist, and Yona all respectively are the teachers in their place in the IDOTS version

Scootaloo has become the captain of the Waterbolts

Sweetie Belle a successful famous metal singer in her band The Belle Tolls

Apple Bloom has an ever increasing leadership role at the farm. Her tea breweries (Apple Brews') are highly sought after by all stores that can sell them.

SADDLE ARABIANS

Malakhar and Kubuya now have a grown up daughter by the name of Jenii (Pronounced Jenny). While Kubuya expressed that they shouldn’t force the life of a genie on their daughter. Luckily for Malakhar, their daughter grew up fascinated with genies and also admiring the recent true stories about Twilight. And also luckily for Malakhar, their daughter had the temperament to make for a good genie. When she was old enough, they traveled to Saddle Arabia to ask Twilight if she could willingly make Jenii a real genie since there still wasn’t any new Dragon Tears. She happily grants it, and for the first time in a long time. There was a Saddle Arabian native genie. (Another thing I haven't given a design too. But if there's interest and/or a reason to. I'll get to it)

Sultana Moodancer and Sultan Theandri II have their own daughter. Though as of this post I have not picked a name or design. Like many other things if there’s a reason to show them at any point I’ll design them later. But just saying that they do exist.

THE CHANGELING HIVE

As earlier said Ocellus is now a full-on queen alongside Kings Thorax and Pharynx, and of course their mother Queen Chrysalis. Who has adjusted now to the new world after Starlight helped her understand that Equestria was never her enemy. That’s not to say her more grumpy attitudes are all gone, but she definitely tolerates Ponies far more than she used to.

And even as she got back in power, she preferred to let her children lead if they wanted to. She only takes charge and prepares if there is any threat to the hive. She’ll never get complacent when it comes to the hive’s safety. But she is at least sure that Equestria would come to their aid if needed. Something she never would have believed before her sessions with Starlight. Speaking of which, Chrysalis also has a very strong mutual friendship with Princess Starlight. Even now she wouldn’t like to admit it publicly, but she looks forward to every world leader summit and/or visit from Starlight. Chrysalis trusts Starlight on nearly the same level she did with Arista and Spur in their best days

MISC.

There could be many other updates I could add if people are curious on what they’d like to know what I’d personally see them become in the I Dream of Twilight Sparkle universe. But perhaps I should leave some to be surprises and/or suggestions to be asked about whether through here or the role-play blog. Just for example, you could ask if I have Cheerilee, Marble Pie, and Limestone Pie end up with anyone by this time.

For now though this is it for where the IDOTS universe is by the time of the timeskip depicted in The Last Problem. There will be one more timeskip I want to include sometime next year before I’m finally done with additions.

Remember that all eras can still be interacted with. Just because I’m starting another timeskip doesn’t mean you can’t ask a past version of a character if it makes more sense for the question.

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