#I’m just copying tags I’ve seen other people use at this point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mermaidgirl30 · 1 month

Text

Love Amidst the Blue Ch 2: Captured✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I hope you enjoy chapter two! Joel and mermaid reader are so 🥰 Enjoy all the fluff and please let me know yours thoughts!

Chapter Summary: After discovering a magic necklace that’ll give you what you desire, you get caught in a net and find yourself trapped. It’s not just any boat though, it’s Joel’s boat.

Pairing: sailor! Joel x mermaid fem! reader

Word Count: 7k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Chapter Tags: Reader finds a magic shell necklace, pining, fluff, a little bit of angst, tension, longing, Joel takes care of reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The next day you can’t wait to see Joel. You’d stayed awake half the night just daydreaming about those dreamy brown eyes and calloused hands as you rolled back and forth in the silky pink clam shell bed. You want to see him again, want to ask him about all his sailing adventures and treasures he’s found. So that’s exactly what you’d do. Tonight.

You quickly check your hair in the long standing mirror and pick a rainbow colored sea flower from the ocean floor, spinning around in a circle as you bring it to your face to smell and place it back down in the soft sand. You flick your tail and swim through the kingdom of Capri as you pass other mermaids and mermen, trailing your fingers along golden palace walls and shimmery pearls that hang from strings beside the palace entrance.

Before you can make it out, you run into your father, the king of Capri. “Oh, hi father,” you say dreamily as your head fills with images of Joel’s handsome face.

“Morning, sweetie. Where are you off to in such a hurry? Haven’t seen you lately, you okay?” he asks as he trails his eyes over your lovesick expression, trying your best not to give yourself away.

“I’m okay. Just wanted to get a head start on picking some shells in the kelp beds. You know how I love making jewelry,” you lie, trying your best to keep a straight face as a slight giggle escapes your lips.

Your father looks at you carefully, his golden crown slipping further down his long locks as his glistening gold triton sits next to his intricate throne made of shells. If he suspects something, he doesn’t say. He just nods his head as a smile tugs at his lips.

“Ahh, I see. You always did make the finest jewelry in the kingdom,” he smiles. “Just be careful. Take Scar with you. I’ve been hearing rumors that humans have been getting close to the area. Don’t want you getting tangled up in that nonsense,” he warns, his eyes on fire as he thinks about the day he lost his most precious wife. The day you lost your mom and half your people. That cold, dreadful day.

“Promise, daddy. I’ll be safe.”

Marissa and Cleo narrow their eyes at you in the back of the room, knowing damn well you are in fact meddling in human affairs. You drag your eyes over to them and give them a pleading look, begging them not to say a word. They must acknowledge it because they don’t say a word, they just float and stare at you with beady eyes.

“Alright, well have fun. Just be careful and don’t talk to the eels. They’re always pulling nasty tricks with us,” he says with narrowed eyes.

“Goodbye, daddy,” you say as you wave and head out, swimming through thick beds of seaweed as you pass a school of clown fish.

You don’t get very far until Marissa and Cleo are swimming in front of you, blocking you from going any further.

“Where are you off to really?” Cleo asks as her long blonde hair spirals down her back, her aquamarine tail fanning out as she narrows her piercing blue eyes at you.

“You’re going to see that human again, aren’t you?” Marissa just copies her menacing look and crosses her arms as her tail turns a deeper purple than it was a few minutes ago.

You’re trapped. They know what you plan to do, and there’s no point lying to them. They know. “Tonight, yes,” you confess with a sigh, feeling them judge you harshly by the way they gnash their teeth in your direction.

“You’re so selfish, you know that? Risking our kind, for what? So you can live out your little daydream of finding love with a human? You’re so fucking selfish, sister. So stupid,” Marissa says with sharp incisors snarling in your direction.

You take it upon yourself to fight back, defend your stance. “I’m not being selfish! If you just for once listened to me, you’d know he was different. He doesn’t want to hurt me. He’s going to tell me all about the human world, answer all my questions about being on land,” you fight back, standing up for yourself.

“Pffft. Gods, you’re delusional. You’re going to risk everything!” Cleo shouts as her blaring voice booms through the water. You gasp at the force of her words.

“I’m not though…” you say quietly, biting your lip to soothe the guilt inside your stomach. Maybe you are risking it all, but he wouldn’t hurt you. Would he?

“You forget your place in this family,” Marissa snarls bitterly. “Do you remember what happened to Stacia? Remember how she was so sure she found a nice human man? Remember how he dragged a knife through her heart and left her to bleed out on the ocean floor!” The pain in her voice is stifling as you cringe against her rough accusations.

Stacia. Of course you remembered. You remembered how heart broken your mother and father were, remembered him banishing any of his people from ever speaking to humans again. Now all they did was sing their siren songs to sailors while drowning them in the water which you were supposed to be a part of, too…

“Of course I remember! But Joel, he’d never do that…” you say quietly, trying your best not to shed a tear at how furious you are.

“Go on then. We won’t wait up for you,” Marissa says sharply as her and Cleo turn and swim back to the palace.

You sigh and swim the opposite way of them, feeling Scar follow behind as a large shadow takes form over your body. You can already feel Scar’s judgement wearing down on you, can feel the warning that lies in his big eyes.

“Scar, don’t make me feel anymore guilty than I already do,” you sigh out, carrying your body through the crystal clear water as you pass another school of colorful fish. “I know what I’m doing,” you press. He just rolls his eyes and continues following you, watching over you just like you did for him that cold, dark day years ago.

You continue swimming through the blue water as you flip through small rock tunnels and coast along the sandy bottom. You’re so close to your cave full of treasures that you can practically feel your collected items start to hum. Or wait, did you actually hear a buzzing sound?

You dive down further, dodging floating kelp and going into darker regions like places you shouldn’t be going. The water becomes colder, more frigid as you pass in between a rock formation. One that Scar won’t be able to fit through.

You look up at him swimming close by and you can hear his warning words come deep from within him. “Don’t go places where I can’t protect you. You know what lies beneath this area,” he warns as his large tail swishes back and forth, making circles in the water.

“Just give me a second. I hear something. Be right back,” you promise as you push your way through the narrow surface of crowded rocks.

You slide against the rocky terrain and follow the buzzing noise. It seems to reverberate off the rocks, making its way all the way down into your bones. The humming seems to ring in your ears, making its way all the way down to your fast beating heart.

Thump, thump, thump.

You can hear it, can feel it all the way down to your shiny fins. Whatever it is is calling to you, yelling your name as it echoes off the jagged rocks. You can hear Scar slashing against the water, but you keep going. You have to find out what it is.

The narrow rocks form into a wide open area that’s dark and cold, no other fish or coral reefs around this area. It’s a place you shouldn’t be. Before you can turn back around, you hear the humming noise pick up. It burns your ears as white noise takes hold of you, and when you look down is when you see something shiny sitting underneath a long grey rock.

You swim to the bottom of the dark area and brush away the sand that covers the hidden object. When you get ahold of what’s been humming and bring it back into the light, you freeze. What’s now in your hand is a long golden chain that holds the most beautiful clam shell you’ve ever seen before. Soft, creamy orange colors turn to purple and iridescent pink colors as you feel along every crevice of the shell. It’s unique, unlike any you had found before, and now it’s yours.

When you turn around to go show Scar what you have found, you’re stopped in place, unable to move as a long, slimy eel stands in your way of your only exit out of here. You gasp as your eyes go wide, remembering the warning your father had given you earlier.

Don’t talk to the eels, they only want to trick us.

“Well, well, well. So, someone finally found the magic necklace,” she says as she flashes you a sly smirk.

“Magic necklace?” you ask confused as you look back over the shiny shell. It didn’t look magical, not that you could see.

“My dear girl, that there is no ordinary necklace. It only shows itself to those who are worthy, to those pure of heart, to those desperate for something more,” she teases as she slithers around you with her cold, slimy tail.

You knit your eyebrows together and hold it tighter in your hand. “But what does it do? What makes it magical?” you ask conflicted. You shouldn’t be talking to an eel, shouldn’t even be here alone. But yet you stay, unable to leave as you need answers now.

“You long for legs, don’t you?” she smirks as a small laugh echoes around the dark water as you stare into the light that shines from behind the narrow rock formation.

“What makes you say that?” you ask sharply, not wanting to give your intentions away with Joel.

“It’s obvious, dear. That necklace there is a powerful thing. Put it on and you are free to go on land, have legs, explore the human world as if you were a human yourself.”

“What?” you gasp as you feel your eyes widen more.

“Yes, child. Put it on and you’ll never have to worry about being stuck with a tail again. Unless that’s what you want. You’d be free to take it off anytime and return to the sea. It’s up to you, but looks like it’s yours now.”

A low snicker cackles from her sharp teeth and her eyes glow a tinted yellow. Something malicious and evil sits in her voice, and you know something isn’t right. It’s almost like she is tricking you.

“You’re tricking me!” you accuse, voice higher as you shout your accusations.

“Oh, but I’m not. Don’t you trust me?” she laughs as she rubs up against your arm and swirls her tail against the back of your neck. You squirm at her cold touch.

“My father told me not to trust your kind,” you say carefully.

The eel spits in your direction. “Your father is a fool, child. I’m not lying to you when I say that necklace does just that. It’s an old, ancient magic. One so strong that it was kept in a tiny vessel and hidden away many years ago. You keep it safe, and it’s yours. Don’t let anyone take it from you because in the wrong hands it could be very, very dangerous,” she warns as she stalks around you slowly, her flashy eyes staring into yours like a hunter watching its prey.

You examine the necklace in your palm, watching the shiny shell glisten around your hold. The colors seem to swirl like a rainbow, the golden chain calling you to put it on. And you want to, you want to so bad. Human legs? Could you really go on land at your own free will without any consequences? No. There had to be consequences, there had to be something.

“What’s the catch?” you ask nervously, eye darting back to the slimy eel in front of you.

“The catch? Oh, yes. The catch,” she smiles a devious smirk your way that screams danger. This is dangerous, she is dangerous. “The catch is, don’t let it get broken or taken. For if you take it off on land, you have two days to make it back to the ocean.”

“What happens if I don’t make it back in time?” you ask slowly, your voice as quiet as a sea urchin.

“You die,” she warns as your pupils expand into pure terror. “Basically, you’ll turn back into a mermaid and suffocate to death. Your body will turn to dust, and you’ll be left with nothing but a mere breeze carried out to sea.”

“Oh.” You have no words, nothing to say except is this really what you want? To risk your own safety for a human?

“Well, go on now. Put it on, child,” she coaxes, her grimy teeth snarling up at you like a trickster would.

You slowly look at the necklace, turning it over as you think and think and think. Joel. The human world. So many things you want to see. Before you really think it through, you unclasp the latch and throw it around your neck, clipping the clasp into place as the glistening shell sits just above your breasts. This is it. This is what you always wanted. Right?

The eel laughs sadistically, curling her tail along your wrist as she brushes past you back into the dark shadows. “Remember, two days. Be careful out there, child. You never know who you might run into…”

With that, she disappears into the dark depths of a cave, and you waste no time as you swim free of your confined area. You push your way through the narrow, rocky opening and meet scar on the other side. You see him eye your new flashy jewelry and see the way he looks at you as if you had done something bad.

You grip it tight and try to take his focus off it. “It’s nothing, Scar. Just something I found under a rock. It’s nothing to worry about.”

You see him brush past you as he swims ahead of you, and you follow silently. You can already feel the judgement coming off his large body. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken it, maybe this was too risky, but you did. You did. No going back now.

You swim ahead of Scar, pushing your shimmery tail as fast as you can possibly go. You brush up against silky kelp beds, making bubbles swirl up to the surface like a whirlwind. You keep swimming and swimming and swimming until you’re there. Back at the boat. Back at his boat.

Pushing free to the surface, you feel the sunlight rain down on you as bursts of warmth hit your bare shoulders, letting the salt water drip down your radiant face as you slowly slip closer to the grand boat. The water is calm, the boat gently rocking side to side as you watch the sails slowly sway in the warm breeze.

You swim closer, keeping your head down as you circle one side of the boat. You see a crew of men shuffling their way back and forth on the deck, watching the way the men shout to each other as they work. One man with a blue bandanna across his matted hair is untangling a large fishing net, another is scrubbing the deck with an object you don’t know the name of. There’s no sign of Joel though.

You sulk on the surface and slap the edge of the water with your palm as you pout your bottom lip out. One look. You just wanted to see his beautiful face once until you could see him tonight. You slowly turn the other way, about to head back underwater, when suddenly you hear a high pitched whistle from the deck. You turn and freeze, your eyebrows knitting together as you see one of the men staring at you in awe.

Oh no. No, no, no. They weren’t supposed to see you.

He’s still staring at you, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as you hear him call out to the other men on the ship. You sink down into the water, dropping into the dark shadows as you stay still, afraid you’ll be seen again.

You weren’t supposed to go out until tonight. Why didn’t you just wait?

After a few minutes pass, you slip out of the shadows and swim back close to the surface, making sure not to stick your head out of the water. Scar swims past you with a warning, and you turn your head to tell him you’re okay.

“Everything’s fine, Scar. I think it’s safe now. I think…”

Before you can finish your sentence, something rough and jagged falls on top of you. You try to swim away, but your tail gets tangled up and caught in something you can’t quite get out of. As you look back at what it is, your heart drops out of your chest. A net.

“Scar!” you scream, cries of bloody murder reaching the deep depths of the water.

No, no, no. This can’t be happening. Joel wouldn’t hurt you. Would he?

The more you try to squirm, the more your tail gets twisted in the bindings. The net starts to reel you in, taking you up further to the surface. Scar tries to desperately get you out, but the netting only rubs up against his rough skin.

“Go on, I don’t want them to hurt you,” you say sadly to your friend. His big black eyes stare at you, but he silently agrees.

“And don’t tell father or my sisters, please. I’ll find a way back. This won’t be the end,” you promise.

You watch Scar swim off in a hurry, muttering words under his breath as he heads further beneath the darkness. You really hope he’ll keep his word and not tell your father. He’d kill every single man on this boat, including Joel.

As the net pulls you up further, you toss and turn. You lash at the bindings, but it only makes it tighter around your body. Your shimmery scales on your fins feel like they’re about to be pulled off the harder you fight.

Anxiety starts to take over, you feel like you’re suffocating underwater as you’re pulled to the surface. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire as the harsh net tears into your skin. You let out a blood curdling scream as the net scratches at your arm, forming a large gash as crimson blood starts seeping out.

You’re going to die, you’re never going to see your family again. Why the fuck did you put your faith in a human? Why?!

Joel hears the horrifying screams and sees his men hauling up the large, heavy net. Cold seaweed filled water starts dripping over the side of the wooden deck as the flash of a sparkly pink tail comes into clear focus.

Joel goes wide-eyed, dropping his golden telescope to the floor as he screams and runs to his crew. “What the fuck are you doing!” His voice is panicked, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in your terrified face. He’s afraid they’ll kill you.

“Catching a mermaid, cap’n!” Jasper laughs out as he helps haul up his precious treasure. “Told ya mermaids were real, didn’t I?”

Joel’s shocked, his boots frozen to the sea clad wood as his mind races. Without thinking, he runs over to the men and starts pushing them out of the way as the net comes crashing down to the deck. Salt water spills over the edges as you shiver in fright, horror written all over your beautiful face.

Your necklace seems to burn hot against your chest as the orange color glows brightly under the sunlight. You look down at your perfect tail and see the sparkly scales start to shed as the tail starts to evaporate. You stare in horror as your tail splits in two, forming smooth legs in its place.

Suddenly you realize you’re naked as the men stare in hunger, their mouths drooling as they take in your curves. You hug your knees to your chest to try to pry their eyes away. Cold. You feel so cold, so scared as the men surround you like starving hounds. You want to go home. You want to go home. This was a mistake, a huge mistake. They’ll hurt you. They’ll hurt you.

Joel pushes the men out of the way and starts peeling off his white button-up shirt as his worried look encases all of his features. He bends down to your level and wraps the shirt around you to cover your exposed body up.

“Can you guys back up? For the love of God, give her some air! Christ,” he yells out annoyed as he looks back at you with wide eyes, his calloused hand brushing the side of your cheek as you push back out of his reach.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he responds as he puts his hands in the air as if to show he’s harmless. Your body relaxes a little, but you still don’t fully trust him.

“A mermaid, cap’n! What happened to her tail?” a man with shaggy hair hanging over his slumped shoulders and dirty brown shirts yells appalled.

“Didn’t know mermaids could come on land with legs. What sorcery is that?” another rugged pirate asks as he untangles the rough net they used to catch you.

You cover your ears and sink your knees deep into your chest as you hide your face from view. You want to go back home, get away from all the noise of prying eyes and raspy voices. You regret coming to shore, you regret it all, you shouldn’t have come because you trusted a human. How could you have been so stupid?

“Silence!” Joel yells as he bends down to your level and cups your chin as he raises your head to face him. You shiver, your body sinking into itself as you shake from the cold air and damp shirt.

“Hey, it’s alright, sweetheart. Nobody’s gonna hurt ya.”

His calloused fingers linger under your chin, dragging along your smooth skin as you stare into honey flecked eyes. You try to look away, but you can’t escape those eyes. Those beautiful orbs made of light and dark brown flecks mixing together to make the prettiest shade of brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your entire life. Those alone tell you he’s safe, he won’t hurt you.

Safe. He’s safe.

Your eyes travel down his glistening tan, salt water coated skin as you take in how broad he is. Flexed biceps and spidery veins skating down his entire arms. He’s so handsome.

Suddenly, he’s gripping at your wrist. “Your arm. It’s bleeding,” he says with a rushed breath as he scans the large cut on your forearm. “C’mon, let’s go clean that up. Can you stand?” he asks as he reaches out a large hand.

You take a minute to weigh your options. You can either stay in the presence of the grimy pirates, or you can go with Joel where it’s quiet. You choose Joel. When you lift yourself up with your arms and try to take a step forward, your legs start to shake and your knees cave in. You almost go tumbling to the deck until strong arms catch you before you hit the hard floor.

“Whoa, slow down there. Here, let me help you.” Joel picks you up and cradles you in his arms as he starts to walk toward the stairs that’ll lead him beneath the boat.

“Get back. Give her some air,” Joel growls as his men start to part the sea, dirty bodies backing up to make way for Joel to get through.

You unknowingly sink into his warm chest, hiding your face in the crook of his neck so you won’t have to see their wandering gazes to your barely covered body. Joel pulls you tighter against his chest as he feels your discomfort.

“I got ya, sweetheart. It’s alright, they’re not gonna hurt ya. I promise,” he says against the shell of your ear, and somehow you believe him. He’s not lying to you. Why would he?

He takes you down some wooden steps and back into a large room. You slowly peek up from his chest and take a look around the room. Light shines through the little portholes of the boat. A couple of glowing lamps hang from the wooden walls as a table covered by maps and compasses lays in the middle of the room. A small bed with crisp white sheets sits in the left corner of the room, and pictures of the ocean and secluded islands line the walls. It’s very… cozy in here.

“Is this your room?” you ask as your eyes scan the small area. It has to be his room, it just screams Joel.

“Mhm. It’s where I come to sleep and scan out maps when I’m on the boat. I live just up the coast, but I spend so much time out on the water that I needed my own little space. A place where my crew wouldn’t bother me,” he chuckles out as he carefully sets you down in a wooden chair.

“Do they just sleep upstairs?”

“No,” he laughs as he shakes his head, “They have their own little quarters down on the opposite side of the boat. Didn’t need them wakin’ me up with their snoring and drunken nonsense.”

You laugh as you see a smile curl around his soft lips and a dimple forms in the center of his cheek. You swear he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. So strong yet so soft. You get so caught up in his charm that you almost forget you’re shaking and your arm is bleeding.

“You cold, sweetheart?” he asks softly as he grabs a couple of fluffy towels and a first aid kit from the other side of the room.

“Just a little,” you say with chattering teeth as his white button-up shirt barely grazes the bottom of your thighs. You’re very aware now that you’re almost naked in front of him which gives you a weird fluttering sensation in your low stomach that you’ve never felt before. How strange.

“Here ya go. Maybe this’ll help.” He throws a soft white towel over your shoulders, and you wrap it around yourself as it brings you a little comfort and warmth. “Better?”

“Better,” you confirm with the nod of your head.

“Good, that’s good. Now let’s take a look at that arm.”

He rolls the cotton sleeve up slowly and reaches for something that’s in a clear bottle. As he unscrews it, he says, “Now this might sting a bit.”

When he pours some of the liquid onto the cut, you flinch and try to pry your arm away, but he holds tight to it. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s alright, the worst part is over,” he reassures as he presses a towel into the wound and rests a hand gently on your knee. The sudden shift of his softness makes you stop flinching and makes you look down at him.

His soft brown eyes threaten to swallow you whole, his crooked smile could calm raging hurricanes with how beautiful it shines around the room. Like the sunlight beaming through the waters of Capri, all crystal like and calming.

He watches you closely as he wraps your cut up with some kind of material you don’t know the name of. His touch is so delicate, so soft as he takes the proper care to make sure you’re not hurting anymore.

Warm. He’s so warm. So very gentle. And you see yourself falling for him even more now.

“There ya go. All bandaged up. We can probably take this off tomorrow, but just want to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly as your fingers trail along the clothed material that covers your wound.

“It was nothin’, don’t even mention it. It’s the least I can do for my stupid men catchin’ you in that net. I’m really sorry for that, I had no idea. Those men had no right and I’m gonna give them hell about it the rest of the week and…”

You silence him as you reach your shaky arm out and cup the side of his jaw as your thumb trails along the lines of his dark, patchy scruff. His eyes widen as he looks up at you under the fringe of his dark eyelashes. His full attention is on you now.

“Joel, it’s okay. I know now you didn’t mean to harm me. You don’t have to apologize for them. It wasn’t your doing.”

“Yeah, but still. They could’ve harmed you even more if I wasn’t there. They could’ve…”

“Joel.” Your calming voice stops him again as the panic seems to leave his eyes for good. “It’s okay, really.”

Joel looks unsure of himself but nods his head anyway. His calloused fingers still graze along your knee as the contact of his skin on yours seems to send a fire down your legs.

Legs. That’s right, you have legs now. Joel’s eyes look down at your long, smooth legs as he takes them in slowly, his eyes shifting back up to yours as one of his hands slide down one of your calves cautiously. Your breathing hitches at the feel of his calloused fingers on your skin.

“How is this possible? Your legs, I mean. I didn’t know mermaids could exist out of the water,” he says with the expression of surprise written all over his tan face.

“With this,” you say as you hold up the iridescent shell necklace around your neck, watching the way the pink and orange colors shine around the room from the glow of the outside sun. “It’s a magic necklace I found. As long as I wear this, I’ll have human legs. I’m free to take it off whenever to go back to sea, but I have to wear it on land to be able to survive outside the water.”

Joel reaches up and cups the shell in his hand, tracing the crevices of the shell with his thumb as his brows knit together to take in everything you just said. He looks starstruck, not believing his own eyes as he sets it back down to your chest.

“Magic necklace, huh? Mermaids? This is all unbelievable,” he chuckles as he shakes his head. “I can’t believe I met a mermaid this week, and now you have legs? Christ,” he murmurs as he stands up and starts pacing back and forth in front of you while his right hand rakes through his thick scruff.

“Is that bad?” you ask cautiously, afraid he’ll leave at any second and leave you here all alone.

He stops pacing and comes back over to you. He bends back down on one knee and gently cups your face as you gasp out in surprise. The touch of his hand is so warm, so soothing. You want to stay like this forever.

“No, sweetheart. S’not bad. It’s just… how is it that I met the most beautiful mermaid and got you on my boat now? It’s almost like it’s…”

“Fate?” you answer for him, your eyes sinking into his light honey eyes that seem to set your soul on fire.

“Exactly that. Fate.” He repeats as he looks closely into your eyes.

His thumb traces over your bottom lip as his brown eyes flick to your mouth. He looks like he wants to kiss you, looks like he wants to devour you with his plush lips that call to you like one of your siren songs. He’s so close, so very close as he grazes his thumb gently back and forth.

Before you can react, he gets up off his knee and holds out his hands to you. “Can you walk?” he asks as he reaches out to you.

“I don’t know…” you answer quietly as you shift your feet beneath you.

“C’mere. I’ll help you. I won’t let you fall, promise.”

You nod and take one more look at your new legs before you grab his hands and lift yourself up. Your legs shake beneath you, but Joel has a strong grip on you.

“Alright now. Take a few steps for me, walk towards me,” he instructs as you listen to his words. You take one, two, three steps as your feet start to get a hold of how to move on their own. Your legs feel more firm underneath you the more steps you take. Joel leads you around the whole living corridors as you take one hand off him.

“There ya go, sweetheart. Doin’ so good. Now try without me. Go on.” He slips his other hand from you and watches as you take the next few steps over to him without any help. Your legs feel stronger, more powerful with each step you take. It’s not so hard after all.

“I think I’ve got it!”

“Yeah, think ya do, sweetheart.” He crosses his arms and leans against the hollow table as the warm brown flecks in his eyes seer into yours like two stones being melded into one.

You smile up at him shyly and then come across the maps splayed all across the table in a heap. Your fingers trail along the sheets of paper as you take in all the different markings on the maps. Red circles, black lines, words sprawled in different locations on the maps. It looks like he was studying them closely.

“Are these yours?” you ask curiously as he circles around and comes up next to you.

“Yeah, these are all mine,” he answers as he twists one of the colorful maps around.

“What are you looking for?” you ask wondrously as you scan along a long line next to the shoreline.

“Well, there was a shipwreck many years ago that happened around this area. There’s said to be some rare treasures hidden around this location from the wreck. I’ve been trying to find it for a year now, but no such luck. There’s other areas I could be searching, but this one just piqued my interest. So I haven’t given up.”

Your brows furrow together as you study one of the maps, letting your mind wander into far off places. “Maybe I could help you.”

His eyes go wide as his mouth drops open. “You’d help me?”

“Why not? I know these waters better than anyone. And treasure? It’s one of my favorite things to find. I’m always collecting what I can from shipwrecks that people don’t even know about.”

“Really?” he asks incredulously as stares at you in wonder, like you’re a goddess from another world.

“Really,” you giggle as you face back towards him, “but only if you show me your world, too.”

His eyes fade into a warm honeysuckle brown as his lips relax into a crooked smile. “Deal.”

As your eyes fade back down to the marked up maps, he starts to tell you something else. “Ya know, I have a whole room back at home full of treasures I’ve collected over the years. In fact, I have an entire library full of artifacts and books you’d probably love.”

Your eyes shoot up in a frenzy as your mouth drops open. “You do?”

“Mhm. Ya know, I was plannin’ to go back home for a few days tomorrow. Would you… would you want to come back with me? I could show you around the land. Could show you around my place. Could show you anythin’ you wanted to see.”

Your eyes gaze into his as his hand slowly grazes over yours, and you swear you see stars in his eyes. “I’d show you the whole world, gorgeous.” He grabs your hand and brushes his lips over the back of your knuckles, and you about drop to your knees right there.

Charming. He’s so charming.

“Yes,” you whisper out, your voice deceiving you as you shake your head out of the love sick trance you’re under. “I’d love to see it with you.”

He nods his head and settles it. “Alright then. It’s a deal.”

He drops your hand back to the table, and he spends hours after that showing you all his maps, telling you all about his adventures on the water, and you just soak in every bit of him that you can.

By the time the sun goes down and the lanterns light up the dim area, you’re yawning and trying hard not to fall asleep. Throughout all the events of the day, it’s just about knocked you completely out.

“Here, why don’t you take my bed tonight? You look exhausted.”

You shake your head and try to refuse. “No, no. I couldn’t possibly take your bed.”

Joel places a hand gently on your bicep and lingers there. “Please, just take it. I have a small cot in the corner I can dig out. I’m alright, you take the bed tonight. Please.”

His calloused fingers linger on your arm, and you feel the heat all the way through the cotton shirt as it simmers down into your blood like hot lava filling your lungs. You take another look at his lips that hang just inches from yours and whisper out quietly, “Okay.”

He drops his hand from your arm and grabs a clean t-shirt from his small cedar closest. “Here, put this on. I'm sure you want something more comfortable to sleep in. I’ll get you some real clothes tomorrow. There’s so many dresses I think you’d love, I’ll pick some up tomorrow,” he confirms as he holds out his hand for you to take the white cotton t-shirt.

Your hand grazes his, and you can’t help but always gasp when his skin comes in contact with yours. It feels electric, like you were made to touch him. You take the shirt from him and he turns around and walks to the other end of the room. “Go on now. I won’t peek. Just want ya in somethin’ more dry.”

Your eyes flick to him, and he keeps his word. You quickly unbutton the long sleeved shirt and drop it to the floor. When the shirt hits the ground, you see Joel fighting with himself to not take a quick peek at your body. You hang there for just a second gazing across at him. You watch the way his strong back muscles flex as his jaw clenches up, his fist flexing at his side as he fights to keep himself composed.

You almost wish he’d turn around because there’s a weird sensation between your thighs that you can’t quite pinpoint. Strange. He makes you feel so strange. So alive. It’s just so weird.

You avert your eyes from Joel and slide the cotton shirt over your head as it grazes your thighs. You climb into bed and feel just how comfortable the soft sheets and white blankets feel on your skin. This might even be more comfortable than your shiny clam shell bed back under the sea.

“Alright, I’m dressed,” you confirm as he slowly turns around and walks over to you as his boots scuff across the wooden floor.

“Is it warm enough for ya? You comfortable enough?” he asks as his hands come to rest on the side of the bed.

“Mhm. It’s perfect,” you yawn as you turn to the left to get a better view of his sun tanned face.

“Good. Well, get some sleep, sweetheart. Got a busy day tomorrow.”

He trails his fingers over your jawline as he runs the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone slowly. Your breath hitches in your throat as he so carefully grazes it down to your bottom lip again. You really think he’ll kiss you this time, but he crushes those hopes as soon as he drops his fingers from your face.

“Let me know if you need anythin’, sweetheart. I’ll be right here.”

You sigh and watch him set up his little cot in the corner of the opposite side of the room, wishing he was in the bed with you instead. As he sits down after it’s set up, you start to close your eyes as the last few words leave your lips before darkness takes over. “Goodnight, Joel.”

“Goodnight, my little mermaid.”

And then you fade into the darkness.

Joel stays up for the next hour just watching you sleep. He watches the way your hair falls over your shoulders as you hug the cotton pillow to your cheek. He watches the way your chest rises and falls softly when you sleep. He notices the long eyelashes that kiss your skin as a small smile creeps over his lips. He thinks you’re so beautiful, so perfect. He knows he’s falling fast, he knows he should be more careful, but with you he doesn’t want to be cautious. He wants to dive in head first and drown in your saltwater coated skin. He wants to be the one. He wants to be your only one. And he will be. He will.

Tags: @morallyinept @littlevenicebitch69 @mountainsandmayhem @vividispunk @pedroswife69 @maried01 @vee-bees-blog @keylimebeag @pedrostories @poeticpascal @tuquoquebrute @bbyanarchist @sheepdogchick3 @forgetmenotsexy @ayamenimthiriel @readingiskeepingmegoing @dreamingofleon @syd-djarin @dugiioh @amyispxnk @msjarvis

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel x female reader #mermaid au #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal #sailor! joel #little mermaid aesthetic #mermaid fem! reader #love amidst the blue #joel fanfic #joel miller fluff #soft!joel miller #protective joel #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel tlou #no outbreak au

70 notes · View notes

a-big-apple · 8 months

Text

ok locked tomb fam, we’re getting closer to october and the original release date for Alecto, and i’ve been seeing an uptick in anxious/aggravated fans in the tags wondering when we’ll get any new info. waiting is very hard, i feel it too, so i wanted to share some things i have gleaned about publishing through a masters degree and a decade of bookselling!

the book is not coming out in october. the marketing would have started months ago if it was—and there’s no way that the final book in a series as on the radar as TLT would have less marketing than the previous books did. the galley isn’t out there yet either, as far as i’ve seen. i think a fall or winter release is extremely unlikely at this point.

book publishing, for the most part, is not willy nilly. marketing has to thread the needle between starting too early (risking losing the attention of the casually interested) and starting too late to build a good buzz. release dates have to take into account what other books are coming out at the same time—not just what Tor is putting out, but likely what their parent company, macmillan, is putting out. i know this is capitalism at work, but this is the system we live in: they don’t want similar or similarly big books in the same company or imprint competing with each other, it can hurt sales all around.

Tamsyn said in an interview back in december ‘22 that Alecto was written, but editing had not begun yet. editing takes a lot of time, and marketing steps are frequently linked up—announcing a release date hinges on how close the book is to being ready, especially since the original release date is no longer applicable, and getting books ready for print takes a lot of time and a lot of steps!

the biggest times of year for book releases, especially highly anticipated books, are Oct/Nov before holiday shopping starts, and Mar/Apr/May. obviously that’s not true for every book, but this is a big book for Tor, and big books get better spots in the release calendar. if i had to make an educated guess, i would wager Alecto will probably come out in spring ‘24, and we won’t start to see announcements or marketing until after the official release of the Nona paperback on Sept 12. again, this is sales driven: news about Alecto could muddy the waters for the Nona paperback and impede sales, especially since there’s new content in there. i think it’s likely we’ll hear something a little later in the fall.

i’m not as plugged into publishing as i used to be, so i am fully prepared to be wrong about any of this—it’s just assumptions based on what i’ve experienced of the book industry.

either way though, a point i want to make is that nobody at Tor is witholding information from us maliciously. there are a million moving parts in making and marketing a book (and i’m sorry, but huge Hollywood movie releases that are topically resonant but not actually related do not have any effect on publishing schedules). most of those moving parts are human beings: Tamsyn, trying to tie up the series under enormous pressure, still during a pandemic; her editor, who has other books to edit at the same time, and surely wants to do this work justice; Moira Quirk, hopefully, bringing her genius to recording the audiobook; copy editors, designers, marketing people, all of whom are people, many of whom are overworked and underpaid in an industry that is largely not unionized.

they’re not trying to fuck with us. i understand where these impulses come from, but getting angry, begging, pestering, none of that is going to change the plain fact that you can’t market a book until you have an almost-ready book, and Alecto is one that Tor will want to put the best tactics and timing behind. be patient a little longer. fuck corporations and capitalism, but have empathy for the individuals who will put Alecto in our hands from within a very flawed system. Tor has a long and successful history in speculative fiction publishing, they know what they’re doing.

#the locked tomb #alecto the ninth #and while i'm here #support your local indie bookstores!#support your local libraries!#peace and love on planet earth

82 notes · View notes

monstersandmaw · 1 year

Text

Male werewolf x female character (Gabe & Odessa) - Chapter Twenty (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Thank you a million times to those few still reblogging/commenting on this story with lovely tags and thoughts. This update is for you. I’ve seen a couple of you theorising about what’s going on, and you’ll start to get your answers in this and the next chapter... :)

The notes have really fallen away as the chapters have gone on though, so I’ll push these last two chapters out, and finish ‘Season One’ in the next few days. I’ve got ‘Season Two’ all planned out but not written, but I’m not sure I’ll share them here if there’s little to no interest in the story anymore.

Content: group farewell dinner, a bit of angst and insecurity afterwards, growly werewolf smut, and a little cliffhanger... :) Wordcount: 4124

Catch up here:

Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (sfw) Part Seven (sfw), Part Eight (sfw), Part Nine (sfw), Part Ten (sfw), Part Eleven (nsfw), Part Twelve (sfw), Part Thirteen (sfw), Part Fourteen (nsfw), Part Fifteen (nsfw), Part Sixteen (nsfw), Part Seventeen (sfw), Part Eighteen (v. light nsfw), Part Nineteen (nsfw)

The Boar and Hart wasn’t particularly crowded when they arrived sometime after seven that night.

Odessa glanced up at Gabe over her shoulder as they paused in the doorway to look around and he laid his hand on the small of her back. He leaned down to murmur in her ear, speaking with a little twist at the corner of his lips, “Did I mention how gorgeous you look in those jeans?”

“You might have mentioned something like it when we were trying to leave the cabin, yes,” she said with deadpan humour, emphasising the word ‘trying’. “And your reaction to them is why we’re way later than we’d said we’d be, and why I’m walking kinda funny…”

Yes, Gabe was the reason why there was an additional ache in her pelvis from when he’d crowded her up against the bedroom door and undone her close-fitting, black jeans, tugging them unceremoniously down her thighs, and sliding his fingers first around her aching clit and then burying them deep inside her. He’d held her up and made her come standing, which was a feat in itself, and she’d all but collapsed afterwards.

He’d carried her effortlessly over to the bed and kissed her until she’d started to writhe and squirm, though not in protest, and he’d kissed and coaxed yet another orgasm out of her which she most definitely hadn’t thought she’d had in her to start with. He’d come on her stomach a minute later, and she’d made him pay for being so charmingly cheeky by only barely swiping herself clean with a tissue before dressing again.

He could easily smell it on her over the scents of the bar — the patrons and their perfumes; the tang of alcohol and the waft of food — while they wove their way through the tables to join Tala and Carys and a couple of people she didn’t recognise, and it was going to be sweet torture for him. On the one hand, it left his wolf contented to be able to smell the fact that he was the one she’d allowed to be all over her, but she could also tell how it drove him slowly wild beneath that steady, calm, polite facade. Odessa had never been given that kind of power in a relationship before, and the agency and thrill it gave her was intoxicating.

Of course, Gabe wasn’t exactly helpless that night; he knew just how to make her heart skip a beat or two by that point, and he wasn’t afraid to be playful about it either.

Odessa barely remembered anything about the meal that followed.

She had the vaguest impression of Tala making up for her defensive behaviour with some gentle teasing about how well-suited she and Gabe were for each other in the end, and the other two members of the park service team that she’d not met before that had to agree.

“Got to say, Gabe,” Jack, a wiry young man with curly blond hair and grey-blue eyes grinned, laughing in a high, musical tenor as he leaned over the table with his hands around a largely-empty pint glass, “Didn’t think you were interested in anyone like that. You know, long term.”

“I wasn’t,” Gabe shrugged simply. “Odessa kind of took me by surprise.”

“To be fair,” Odessa countered, “I wasn’t looking for a relationship either when I came here. It just kind of… happened.”

Jack laughed and sat back, draining the rest of his beer. “Meant to be then,” he said.

Gabe shot Odessa a look and another shrug that seemed a bit too casual. “Something like that.”

“What will you do now?” Carys asked carefully, her glinting eyes flitting from one to the other of them. “I can’t say I see Gabe moving to the city with his wolf-dogs…”

“Definitely not,” she said, and she watched Carys’ shoulders relax just a fraction. Odessa shook her head with a scowl, curls bouncing in a wild, dark mane around her face. She didn’t miss the way Gabe subtly tilted his nose towards her and inhaled. Under the table, he squeezed her fingers in his just for a moment. “Honestly, we’re not sure. We’re going to have to do distance for the time being —”

“— Gabe’s gonna have to get bloody internet at his house for a start,” Jack interjected, and Gabe flushed.

“And upgrade his phone,” Tala added with a stunning smile. “You’re one step away from looking for a public phone to call her, Gabe.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and took in the number of empty glasses on the table with a quick look. “If you lot stop grilling us about what we’re going to do, I’ll get the next round. Same again for everyone?”

All but Carys nodded, and Gabe extricated himself from the table, gripping Odessa’s shoulder as he passed and then disappeared towards the bar. Odessa watched him go, and smiled when he shared a friendly word with Holly behind the bar. It felt good to know that he was loved by the people here — that he would be alright while she went back to the city for a time.

When she looked back at Carys, Odessa found the older woman regarding her carefully again, and she cocked her head in a silent question.

Carys shook her head in a ‘not now’ gesture, and instead she just said, “Make sure I’ve got your number before you leave.”

“You can have it now,” Odessa said, and they exchanged details while the others chattered on around them. Gabe returned bearing another round of sweet potato fries on the tray as well, and even though they all groaned, the basket was empty again in a quarter of an hour.

Jack was the first to start yawning, and the others began to follow suit not long afterwards. Finally, they called it a night sometime after half ten.

The day’s driving rain had moved on down the valley, leaving the pavements sparkling and glittering in the clear night, and their breath made foggy, dancing ghosts in the air around them as the small group parted ways outside the pub. Odessa looked around and watched them go, Jack and his girlfriend Lydia both flirting harmlessly with Tala as they went, while Carys shook her head and waved over her shoulder as she headed off towards her apartment on the edge of the tiny town.

Tala had been right — dinner had been another good distraction — but reality sank like a stone through her gut as she stood there and knew that this was the last night she’d be spending in Pinewatch for a while.

“You want to walk around for a bit or head back to the cabin?” Gabe asked. They’d walked down together instead of driving since they’d both felt like having a beer with the others, and now that the rain had stopped, it would likely be a pleasant walk back despite the damp, autumnal chill in the air. She didn’t need to worry about finding her way in the dark because Gabe's night vision was probably better than hers was during the day.

Odessa took a moment to look up and down the sleepy street, and realised she wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. “Walk,” she said, and Gabe tilted his elbow towards her, letting her slide her fingers into the crook of his arm for warmth as they strolled aimlessly along the pavement. They passed sleepy shops with their lights out for the night, and a cat slunk along the line of parked cars before hissing at Gabe and darting up a steaming side alley.

He huffed a regretful little laugh as it fled, and idly nudged at a pebble with his toe a few paces later. He seemed to be holding his breath.

“What is it?” she asked, wondering if the almost-full moon was making him tense, or if it was her departure the next morning, or something else entirely.

He just shook his head though and offered her a fleeting smile. It dissolved again into a tense scowl, and she stopped. The movement turned him a little towards her, and his brows knitted together.

“Gabe?”

His expression wavered a little, eyes going glassy, and he glanced away, blinking rapidly. His breathing was quick and shallow, and his weathered, outdoorsy complexion looked unusually pallid, even accounting for the washed-out streetlights further up the road.

“Talk to me.”

“It hurts,” he rasped, and closed his eyes with a soft grimace.

“What does? The full moon?”

“What? No,” he said quickly, not understanding her at first. “No, it’s not… it’s nothing to do with that. I just…” he stopped himself, grinding his teeth together to stop the words tumbling out against his will, and he growled. “No,” he said.

“No what? Gabe, talk to me?” she insisted, and her stomach soured a little.

“It’s not fair,” he said in a barely-audible exhalation.

“What’s not fair? I thought we’d already decided that we’d figure it out as we go. We’ll find a way that works for both of us. I’ll look for something in the area, or for something I can do remotely, and —”

“ —No,” he said, eyes flashing as he looked back at her; the irises glowing unnaturally in the yellow lamplight. “No. Odessa, you shouldn’t have to give up your entire life just because I’m a wild animal that can’t stand the city.”

Her chest constricted and she blinked. “That’s how you see it? And what life, Gabe?” she scoffed. “I’d already quit my job before I even met you; I broke up with my cheating ex; and I came here because I wanted something new and different. Something that was mine, and my choice. I found that, Gabe. I found exactly what I want.” She gripped his forearm with her fingers and glared up at him. “I found you.”

“Your friends —” he protested rather weakly, his expression torn between shock and hesitant joy.

“— will still be my friends. It’s only a five hour drive, Gabe. It’s not like I’d be moving to a different continent.”

“What would you even do out here?” he asked, voice low and rough. “You're a lawyer and the nearest courthouse is sixty miles away.”

“People change careers, Gabe, and institutions like the park services need legal teams too. It’s not all about trail cams and bird nests…” He did smile shyly at that. “The money was really good before, but the rest of it sucked, ok? It fucking sucked. I was miserable. I had no life, I was barely home, I hardly slept, and I didn’t even notice that my partner had been cheating on me for months. I wouldn't call that much of a life, Gabe. Even if I don’t find work, I can still rent an apartment here in Pinewatch — hell, I could probably book out the holiday cabin for the next six months and still have enough savings not to work for at least a year. We can make something work.”

The vulnerable, open look in his face finally stopped her and she narrowed her eyes.

“What’s this really about, Gabe?”

“Odessa, you’re human, and you’ve only known me and known about werewolves for two weeks,” he whispered, his voice almost lost behind the brief hiss of tyres as a car passed them on the road and disappeared into the dark forest beyond the town.

“The same amount of time you’ve known me. If you’re having doubts though, feel free to tell me now,” she said and tried not to sound petulant about it.

“No!” he said quickly, shaking his head and looking somehow more disquieted. “No, I’m not. I’m certain. You’re… You’re it for me, Odessa.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“Am I —?” he cut off, swallowed thickly. “Would you really leave everything behind… for me?”

For someone as tall and powerful as Gabe, he looked like a single autumn leaf could knock him down. Am I enough for you? his golden eyes asked, though his lips didn’t say as much. Or am I perhaps too much?

Odessa felt all the tension drain out of her and she stepped close to him. She looped her arms around his middle and hugged him, pressing her cheek against his chest and squeezing him tightly. “You silly wolf,” she whispered.

Gabe let out a ragged exhale, then tentatively brought his arms up around her shoulders.

“Yes, Gabe,” she said. “I want to see where this goes, and I’m not going to make any rash decisions. I’m going to keep my apartment in the city and I’m going to keep my job options open, ok? I’m going to look and see what there is around here. We’re going to talk on the phone, and I’ll come and see you again soon, and we’re going to make it work as best we can. I’ve never felt anything like this before for someone, so no more of this talk from either of us, ok?”

He stroked her hair and then sighed. “You’re getting cold,” he said. “Come on.”

They walked hand in hand in silence along the road, and when they came to the rutted, muddy driveway that led to her cabin, Gabe squeezed her hand and guided her around the worst of the potholes in the dark.

“You’re staying, right?” she asked when she saw his truck sitting quietly in front of the little wooden house, bathed in a small circle of golden light from the porch lamp over the door.

“If you’ll have me,” he smiled, and he shifted his hand distractingly to the curve of her backside while she was getting her keys out of her jacket pocket.

“Oh, I’ll have you, Gabriel,” she purred as she unlocked the door.

His eyes hadn’t stopped glowing gold all the way back, and as he let out a sonorous, growling exhale, his lips pulled back a fraction and he snarled under his breath. “You make it very hard for me to resist, Odessa,” he said.

“You don’t have to resist,” she said with open honesty in her face as she looked up at him. “What do you want?”

“You,” came his immediate response. “However you want me.”

“I want to shower and get the smell of the bar off me first,” she said, her fingers going to the buttons of her dark maroon blouse even as she backed away from the front door and maintained her eye contact with him.

He closed the door behind him and stood stock still in the living room of the cabin as she started to undo her top a little further, revealing a deep ‘v’ of bare skin beneath before drawing the silky fabric away to show her dark bra. Another long, low-frequency growl escaped him, like a leopard hunting in the dark, and a thrill ran through her whole body. Gabe was absolutely not human, and she loved it.

And he could smell that she loved it too, if the way his pupils blew wide and black, and he scented the air as she retreated.

With a smile, Odessa turned away and walked towards the bedroom. At the door, she turned and found him suddenly following close behind her, moving silently, eyes glowing.

She tied her hair up in a loose bun and stepped out of her jeans in the doorway to the bathroom.

“You joining me?” she asked with one hand on the glass door of the shower.

“If I may,” he said in a rough, quiet voice.

“You may,” she smiled.

While the water heated up, Gabe undressed and ran his hands up her back, kissing across her shoulders and breathing in the scent of her skin. He left a kiss on the nape of her neck that left her shivering, and then followed her into the searing shower.

He washed her, taking his time, and while he was hard in no time, he didn’t make any sign of wanting to do more than enjoy her body in the water. The intimacy of being washed by someone, of having his hands sculpt her body into heaving sighs and shuddering gasps, left her buzzing and when she stepped out a while later, she could hardly think straight.

“I never thought it could be like this with someone,” she said as he kissed her in the coiling steam. “I never knew it was supposed to be like this.”

They shared a breath, lips brushing, right before he kissed her again.

“Nor I,” he smiled.

They abandoned their towels on the floor and crossed to the bed. Continuing their heated intimacy, Gabe lay on his back and she curled up against his side with her head on his shoulder and her arm across his perfect torso. She hooked her right leg over his left thigh and ran her thumb across his pec and teased his nipple. His breath caught and he groaned, bucking weakly against her and making his hard cock bob and leak a little pre-come.

“Your body is incredible, Gabe,” she said, pressing her thumb a little harder into the muscle of his chest and then lightly scoring her nails down over the ridges of his lean stomach to his hip bone. He groaned and heaved beneath the passage of her hand along his body. “I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you outside of movies or magazines.”

“Being a werewolf helps,” he said. “I shift more than most of my kind too, I think,” he added with a hoarse grunt as she teased her fingertips up the crease between his thigh and his balls. He opened his legs for her and she cupped him gently, playing idly with him until he started to breathe in shallow pants, eyes closing, cock twitching and leaking another line of clear pre-come onto his abs. “Odessa…” he growled as she rolled his balls carefully in her hand.

“Mmm?”

“God, you’re trouble,” he laughed. “I feel like a teenager again — like I don’t know if I want to come or shift any second, or both.”

She laughed and moved to lie atop him. All traces of her self-consciousness had evaporated in the two weeks she’d spent with him. She no longer felt awkward about the weight around her hips or the soft rolls at her waist. She felt beautiful in a way she’d never been made to feel before, and certainly not since gaining those extra pounds. And Gabe, it seemed, couldn't get enough of her.

He growled again, that slow, rolling sound that was almost a purr, and her eyes fluttered. She shifted and his cock slid easily inside her. She’d never had so much sex in her life either, and it felt incredible to be so wanted, so desired — so desirable. He moaned, as though sliding inside her was like coming home, and he couldn’t seem to stop growling now that he’d started.

“Oh fuck…” he grunted around the constant rumble in his throat. “Oh god, you’re still so tight. How are you so tight? God, you’re perfect. Is this alright?” he added when her breath caught a little.

“Yes,” she gasped, adjusting her hips a little and taking him just-so inside her. Somehow she started to feel like it wasn’t enough; like she could still somehow get closer to him, take more of him, though she was pretty sure he was as deep as he could physically get.

“Gabe, I want you.”

“You have me,” he said.

“Wait,” she breathed, and raised herself off him to lie down on her back instead, legs apart in invitation. “Like this.” Perhaps from that angle he could give her the closeness her body craved. It had certainly been intense the last time he’d thrust into her like that, with the backs of her legs pressed against his chest.

His eyes glinted gold when she opened her legs to him and he settled his knees between her thighs and just stared at her for a second. In the past she would have felt self-consciousness roar through her like a consuming wildfire, but now she felt his gaze on her like a physical touch against her skin, and she grew even wetter beneath its weight. He finally reached out and thumbed a circle around her pulsing clit, pushing gently underneath it before circling lazily — adoringly — around it until she let out a guttural groan and begged him for more.

Without preamble, he slid his cock easily back into her and lifted her legs until both rested on his shoulders. He held her thighs in his strong, rough-palmed hands, and ground slowly against her, catching her deep.

Her hands clutched at the sheets beneath her as pleasure stoked and built inside her.

Claws pricked her skin and she opened eyes she hadn’t noticed closing to find him with his eyelids closed too, his cheek nuzzled against her leg. His lips drew back to reveal his canines, and his hairline crept forward as the shift from human to wolf nudged insistently at him. He looked mesmerised by the feel of her around his cock, rocking back and forth inside her like a ship at sea, slowly building the pleasure for both of them until he opened his mouth and let his sharp, thick, inhuman fangs scrape across her skin.

She moaned his name and arched her back a little, and he tugged her even deeper onto his cock with a growl. As if that broke the spell, he got a little faster and with each thrust, he let out an animal snarl. His pace picked up, the rhythm growing from something slow and intense to a pace that left her gasping for breath. Her breasts moved with the force of each thrust, her whole body shunting along the bed towards the pillows, and the individual growls began to blur together into something fierce and almost feral.

“Want you,” he hissed. “I always want you. I want you all the time,” he went on, and she wasn’t even sure he knew he was speaking out loud. “The moment I smell you again, I want you. Then I look at you and I can’t remember how to breathe,” he went on, barely audible around the snarling growls pouring out of him. “Odessa.”

His legs quivered but he didn’t break the rhythm of his hips, pistoning in and out of her with increasing speed, each stroke leaving her breathless and dizzy with the surging pleasure. Claws pinched at her skin, keeping her tethered as her orgasm grew and began to sing in her ears.

“I’m yours, Odessa,” he choked. “God, I’m yours.” Then she thought she heard him whisper, “Take me. Please… have me. Take me as your…” The words were so faint she could barely hear him over the pounding of blood in her body and the way his wild growling was filling the room.

With a sudden, surprised whimper, the rapid rhythm of his hips faltered and he stopped moving altogether. He froze and a tremulous shudder ran through him.

For a second, she thought he was coming, but it didn’t feel like it had before, and her eyes flew open in alarm. His back heaved and he bit back a roaring howl that dissolved into a pained, whimpering snarl. Something was wrong, and cold adrenaline raced through her, replacing the pleasure in her veins.

“Shit,” he grunted.

Gabe was shaking in earnest now. Snarls just spilled out of his snapping jaws until he froze again, his whole body grinding to a halt for a second time. His muscles still trembled but it felt like he was keeping himself from moving at all; fighting something.

“Gabe?”

He snarled again and clacked his teeth together, tendons straining as he desperately tried to suck in enough air with his lungs were spasming too hard to manage it. “Shit…” he said again.

“What’s wrong?” She sounded small and frightened to her own ears.

Between short, snatched breaths he gasped, “The shift… I’m… losing control. Odessa, I’m… I…” He turned his face away and shuddered violently. His back heaved again, and the groan that left him was no longer full of pleasure, but pain. “I’ve never… not like this…”

“Gabe, look at me?”

“Odessa…” he choked, and all the passion turned to wild panic. “I… can’t… I can’t hold it back…”

“Look at me,” she said more firmly, and he did. “Oh Gabe,” she whispered when she saw his eyes wild and full of fear. “It’s alright. You can shift. Shift if you need to.”

“Odessa?” he whispered, and for the first time since she’d found out about his secret, he looked afraid.

Next chapter -->

Thanks for reading this far in their story, and I hope that you’ll consider reblogging this as well as leaving a like if you enjoyed it, as that will help others find it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

#werewolf #male werewolf #werewolf boyfriend #werewolf romance #shifter romance #exophilia #monster boyfriend #male werewolf x female character #gabe & odessa #you know who you are if you're seeing this #and thank you

222 notes · View notes

lilmagiceverywhere · 4 months

Text

"A PSALM FOR THE WILD BUILT" by Becky Chambers

4.75/5 ✨️

I had found A Psalm For The Wild-Built recommended to me searching through various solarpunk/hopepunk tags a while ago, and noted it in my mind to come back to it later.

But to be honest, I doubted that I would ever actually get around to reading it. My college classes kicked me straight into a horrible reading slump since I started them at sixteen years old, and it’s been hard for me to get through books ever since. And I have read books outside of those textbooks, but it’s only been an average of one or three a year, not a big number.

Yet I found the book pop up on my phone again in December, and it planted a seed in my head. I wanted to read the book, I really did, but I didn’t want to add to the pile of physical books I’ve bought in the past and wanted to read, so I decided I would go about it differently.

I got my copy through the library.

I know to some people, going to the library isn’t as revolutionary as they might expect. But I hadn’t used a library in years, and the library I have access to is an actual building, not a small converted ranch house with barely enough room for all the bookshelves. And I could reserve the copy online and pick it up, I didn’t have to spend hours searching for a book and somehow end up lost in the accounting books looking for a sci-fi book.

Libraries are great, y’all.

Anyway, let’s actually talk about the book. Spoilers beyond this point, you have been warned.

A Psalm For The Wild-Built is a novel (or perhaps a novella, it is on the shorter side) by author Becky Chambers. The story is quite simple– Dex, a tea monk, feels unsatisfied with their job, and can’t figure out why. One day, while traveling between settlements, Dex comes in contact with the first robot any human has seen in centuries.

The novel is mostly conversational. Unlike other stories I’ve found myself drawn to in the past, the conflict doesn’t rely on saving the city/the world, defeating an evil authoritative figure (be it a king, queen, or weird demon), or a revolution. The conflict is more internal. Dex is suffering from what I would consider Severe Burnout™, and it takes them from a life of comfort to literally climbing up a mountain.

But I find myself drawn to this sort of conflict now. As much as I love the stories of revolutionaries overthrowing authoritative figures, maybe with a bit of magic or sci-fi jumbo thrown in as well, having that be the only story I enjoy for years has made me a bit yearnful for something more mundane. I suppose that’s where the genre of “cozy scifi/fantasy” comes in. It’s not epic quests or large adventures, it’s the story of everyday lives in a more extraordinary world.

Dex’s conflict is dealing with burnout. Something that I’ve been feeling myself for a while, not just creatively. Even though it’s been years, the COVID-19 burnout that I felt during my college years really took a number on me. I was depressed, I hardly left my single dorm room, I didn’t go out and experience a lot of things, and I only made myself do the bare minimum in order to graduate. At the time, I felt like it was necessary for my survival to do that. I graduated almost two years ago, and recently, I’ve been reconsidering that philosophy that pushed me through college. Was it necessary for my survival, or if I had pushed myself more, would my experiences have been marginally better?

Having Dex’s conflict be internal like that spoke to me a lot. Even though the reasons for burnout are different, the symptoms are the same. The solution, in a sense, is similar as well. I’m not going to free-climb up a mountain any time soon, but I think getting out in nature has helped me recover from the COVID-19 burnout.

I got a job at a place that’s going to remain redacted for my privacy’s sake, but it’s a place that gets me close to two different things– people and nature. The people part is mostly just customer service, but I work at a nature-place, which has biologists and horticulturalists and researchers who are actually looking into ways we can help the planet within the ongoing climate change crisis. Half of my coworkers are vegetarian or vegan, and being in a place like this has inspired me to do more about my physical and mental health.

Dex’s solution to their burnout was also to retreat to nature, though theirs is much more literal. They detour from the path they’ve set themself on recklessly, going towards the uncontrolled wilderness of their land of Panga (which I’m assuming is a reverse Pangea situation) instead of the next town they were supposed to visit. In the wilderness, there is supposedly a monastery for those seeking respite from the city life, and even though it’s been years since a human last stepped foot there, Dex makes it their mission to visit it, thinking it might be the cure to their weird affliction (which, to be fair, they aren’t recognizing as burnout).

While on the road there, Dex encounters Splendid Speckled Mosscap, a robot. Centuries before Dex’s time, the robots who worked for the humans gained a sudden consciousness. It is not a violent robot revolution, in fact, it’s a more philosophical one. The robots promise to see the humans again, but they need some time to themselves. To discover things, to discover what life truly is all about.

Mosscap is a robot who volunteered to play the role of ambassador, to return to the humans to see what the humans need help with. And it just so happens that Dex is the first human it comes across.

I’m not going to dive too in depth more about the plot and conflict of the book, because I really want to encourage anyone reading this to experience it for themselves. I love the dynamic that forms between Dex and Mosscap (my beloved). They have such interesting conversations, from the nature of humanity, to the differences between robots and humans, to even the more mundane things, like cooking, and taking a less-traveled path.

The book is pretty character and dialogue heavy, but it works out perfectly for the type of conflict its supposed to reflect. If you like more action and description in your books, though, this might not be the one for you, and that’s okay! But if you’re intrigued at all by this book, I suggest you check out your library to see if they have a physical or digital copy you can borrow. It’s a delight of a book, and there’s even a sequel I now get to patiently wait for to return to the library so then I can check it out!

#a psalm for the wild built #a psalm for the wild built becky chambers #becky chambers #book review #story review #original

7 notes · View notes

unohanabbygirl · 8 months

Note

I’ve been following along with your HIPS x FMN posts and I’m totally invested. Could you give us more angsty headcanons?

I’d be more than happy too. Ngl, I’ve been thinking about this AU for a while now so I have quite a few.

First off, getting into Osferth’s headspace is important because the plot revolves around his existence just as much as it does Luke’s past life and former trauma’s. Being a child born of r*pe isn’t an easy plight to come to terms with and creates insecurities regarding self-worth as well as your place in the world. Knowing that the worst thing that’s ever happened to your mother is what led to you being born is traumatic within itself. It’s something that never leaves your head, always there to remind you that you shouldn’t exist, that you ruined the possibility of your mother having a great life and doing amazing things. Luke could’ve been someone history regarded as one of the best Lords Driftmark had ever seen, but because of him Luke is no more than a victim whose been the subject of perverse and degrading art for centuries.

The constant reminders hurt, especially living in modern day. He’s still very young so being such a big (and slightly controversial) topic in history gets to him easily. He’s been forced to listen to strangers good and bad opinions regarding his mother and the choices he made. Judging what Luke should’ve done differently or how he fucked up by doing x,y,z despite the fact that he was no more than a scared kid himself. Osferth has always been a kind, understanding boy so it drives him up the wall that people can’t find it in themselves to see that his mother isn’t a topic to fuel their debates but a human being. Its a lesson to him that teaches him not everyone is capable of empathy or can put themselves in someone else’s shoes like he can.

Egg gathering evidence for months to reveal to the family that Aemond has a twisted fixation with graphic paintings depicting Luke’s assault hits Osferth hard. Though everyone did their best to make sure we wasn’t subjected to every piece of evidence available he still decided to do his own research after listening in while hiding at the top of the staircase. It leads him to googling the museum and taking some time to scroll through their website where he finds an entire category dedicated to art with Luke as the subject amongst other popular historical figures. The first page is tame and even leads him to shedding a few tears. Filled with beautiful pieces of paintings and sculptures alike that depict he and his mother as holy figures. Mostly of him as a newborn in Luke’s arms.

Sadly, the next click is where things start to get darker. Osferth doesn’t even make it to the bottom of the second page when he exits out and deletes his history without a second thought because there’s a chilling look of fear in Luke’s eyes as he tries to push a lust ridden Aemond off of him. Some are from as early as the late 12th century with price tags that go upwards of hundreds of millions. Little descriptions going on about the complex beauty of pain, forbidden lust and tear jerking push and pull between primal instinct and basic morality.

He doesn’t talk to anyone for a few days after that. Makes it a point to block Helaena’s phone number too after the bs she spouted in her brother’s defense. She never tries to contact him anyway, not after the absolute disaster she made of his 12th birthday party after showing up uninvited with Maelor and the twins.

One of Osferth’s most difficult struggles regards his looks which is understandable. He’s a carbon copy of Aemond and there’s not much he can do about it. He’s come to Rhaenyra about it quite often, voiced his own issues with how he looks as well as asking if she resents him for it. Ofc she tells him no, gives him a big and and assures that she could never see Aemond she looks at him. Same as his own mother did after he learned the truth.

Unsurprisingly, this doesn’t help much.

Soon enough Osferth goes down the rabbit hole of cosmetic procedures to change his most striking features. He’s still a young teenager (I picture somewhere around 13) so it’s not as though he can go under the knife, but this doesn’t stop him from becoming borderline obsessed with changing his looks via surgery once he’s of age. Perhaps a nose job or chin shaving, maybe both along with some filler to make his face less angular. Round out the harsh edges that he’s come to resent.

In conclusion our baby is struggling 😔

#asks

8 notes · View notes

stranger-rants · 1 year

Note

Hey👋🏿 I’m just copying and pasting a post I tagged you in because I’ve seen this topic get brought up in the Billy fandom a lot recently and I’m breaking my brain trying to understand where people are coming and thought your input might help me better understand if u don’t mind sharing any of your spicy takes? From other post of ur I know redemption arc make uncomfortable as well. Which I respect I guess I just don’t know why that would be for some so I’m asking. Might also help become more critical of redemption narratives cuz I right now love a good redemption.

Being genuine I thought redemption and recovery were like synonymous terms? I guess I have seen redemption used in a way that can be weird but idk

Tagging @stranger-rants cuz I’ve seen them bring this up too and maybe they don’t mind responding to my question. I want to understand in good faith where other people are coming from when they feel hesitant about redemption arcs I like thinking of characters being redeemed or even myself being redeemed. So I think I’m just genuinely overlooking points being made cuz I just don’t understand what other people mean in fandom cuz redemption looks different to me ig. It’s about wanting/ desiring to get healthier what ever that may look like for a given situation (that’s how I currently understand it but either way I find it’s important to understand what common consensus is how other people understand it? Cuz if not u know miscommunication)

I think this largely depends on how “redemption” and “recovery” are defined.

Redemption is primarily a religious term that has been taken out of its context and applied to other things much like other religious terms (e.g. “canon”). Redemption can be the act of saving someone from sin or the act of being saved from sin. For example, we could say “this [insert entity] redeemed them” or “saved them” or “they were redeemed” or “saved” from sin - sin is the key word. When this term is applied outside of a religious context, the implication of “sin” often remains. So, when people argue over whether or not Billy deserves “redemption,” it’s more so about whether or not he can be saved from his “sins” or past wrongdoing. Did his death redeem him? They argue over and over. (That’s also where we get the “Billy is an accidental Jesus figure” meta, as his death arguably redeems him and in fact results in the “salvation” of the town, but I digress). While we can use the word redemption to talk about how antagonistic characters can “change,” I am personally uncomfortable with some of the connotations of this word as they are applied to people who did harm while their agency was compromised or they were under duress, even if they made the “choice” to say and do hurtful things. The reason being is that it forces the individual to view themselves as a sinner who needs to be saved in order to avoid eternal damnation which is an extremely Catholic viewpoint that I know can do more harm than good (citation: My family is Catholic.)

I want to introduce a different word than redemption: restoration. We use this term in “restorative justice” to talk about ways harm (not sin) can be undone or repaired. Restorative justice is a voluntary process that the victims or targets of harm and the perpetrators of harm undergo to restore relationships and/or provide opportunity for personal growth and healing. The aim is not to eternally punish someone, but rather to recognize that harm was done and hold perpetrators accountable not just through the courts or prison or the threat of eternal punishment by a divine power. Billy is a teenager. He did some genuinely hurtful things to Max and to Lucas. Any of those things could have easily been resolved through counseling and restorative circles. Nothing he did was so egregious that it would be impossible for them to sit down and talk with a trained mediator. All of this could happen effectively if Billy was removed from his abuser’s house and given time to recover* from his trauma enough to be able to reflect on what he did while he was surviving. The whole thing would help him to process everything much better without feeling a crushing amount of guilt and shame that might not help him be a “better” person at all. I mean, look what Vecna did to all those traumatized kids. That’s just a reflection of how a punitive mindset can prevent healing and perpetuate rather than stop the harm.

*Recovery is about the individual, so I don’t particularly view it as synonymous with redemption or restoration. Instead, it could be considered as something that occurs parallel to those things. For me personally, I think recovery is less effective when it is done in the context of “redemption” depending on how people define “redemption.” If redemption is based on a single act (i.e. Billy “dying” for his right to be saved from his “sins”), then okay… maybe recovery could have happened had he actually lived, because that would involve the people around him accepting that his single selfless act supersedes any harm he did to anyone at any time and they’re more likely to support his recovery journey healing from his trauma. However, people often treat redemption like a “character arc.” It’s a long process that the character has to go through in order to prove they’ve been “washed clean” from their “sin.” I don’t think this helps with healing or recovery at all. Instead, it traps people within cycles of guilt and shame that can do more mental and physical harm. Allowing people the time to mentally and physically recover by addressing their mental and physical trauma through medical care and mental health care is more important to me, and it’s more beneficial to the long term healing of the community that they may have had a harmful impact on while they were just surviving.

Side note: I’m from Upstate NY, which is on Haudenosaunee land. There’s a story that I think illustrates this concept of recovery and restoration well. It’s the story of Tadadaho. This story is interesting because it’s not influenced by “western” European concepts of good and evil, nor influenced by Catholic concepts of sin. I would recommend anyone to read about it.

#asks

22 notes · View notes

hargrove-mayfields · 10 months

Text

tag game, stranger things edition!

i was tagged by @thatgirlwithasquid and @intothedysphoria, thanks y’all, I really appreciate it! 💕

1. ride or die ship/otp : Hellcheergroveton! every combination in this ship is adorable and it has all my favs too ☺️

2. most annoying ship : m*leven. I am beyond tired of watching a young disabled girl be taken advantage of and have it be treated as romantic. El deserves to live partner free, and M*ke deserves to go in the whole garbage can.

3. second favorite ship : Hollogrove. Since it’s not part of the core hellcheergroveton relationship, I’ll branch out a little and bring in my girl Heather. I love her and Billy I’m a relationship and can totally see them spending the rest of their lives together ♥️

4. favorite platonic dynamic : Billy and Max, or Dustin and Steve. Or Steve and Gareth. Cause I headcanon Gareth as becoming Steve’s caregiver after the events of the show leave him with cognitive and physical disabilities

5. underrated ship : Hollogrove, Cunningway, Pompompineapple, Stonathan, Cheerscoops, Calicheer, Rockie, Stargyle, Cammy, Kegboys, Steather, Argilly, and so many more but I’ll stop there.

6. overrated ship : Any of the fruity four (it makes me wanna gag just typing it) ships. I haven’t looked in the fandom tags for a year because it’s oversaturated with passionless, factory produced, carbon-copy fanworks that look like Harringrove fics put through ai to be rewritten as St*ddie, or Buckleway into r*nance. I’m sick of it. It’s boring. I’ll come up with my own steddie content, thanks.

7. one thing to change in canon : Everything. Not even joking. I’m going blorbo shopping and bringing all my favs back to my dollie house to play fix-it.

8. something canon did right : Um. I guess letting actors put in feedback and details of their own. Like Millie choosing for El to touch Billy’s cheek, Dacre giving us backstory on Billy’s mom and also on Billy’s disability (BPD), both he and Joe Keery refusing the original scripts, Joe Quinn improvising Eddie’s crush on Chrissy, and so on. All of the actor choices are the only good things about the show at this point.

9. a thing I’m proud of creating for the fandom : @disabledbillyandsteveweek! There's more information about the event over on the blog, but basically it’s an event starting in about two weeks meant to highlight Billy and Steve as disabled characters, through all kinds of fan works and different ships!

10. a character who is perfect to me : Christine Renée-Beth Cunningham. Nobody compares to my cheer girl.

11. the most relatable character and why : Also Chrissy. She reminds me a lot of myself, especially how I was when I was still in highschool, being timid and struggling a lot with my mental health. I wish she could have grown and gotten help and felt better since I’m on my journey to doing so right now, but I’m forever grateful to have seen a character with an eating disorder and an abusive family on screen, portrayed in a heartfelt and generous way- all thanks to miss Grace Van Dien

12. character I hate most and why : Neil, Karen (actually just the Wheelers in general except little Holly), Brenner, Owens, the lady that shot Benny, literally so many of them. Anyone who intentionally and unabashedly hurts other characters without remorse.

13. something I’ve learned from the fandom : To be patient, because even when things seem tough or impossible, we can make it. Together, with friends who understand us, and who share our pain, we can fight and keep going! Especially because this community will always have folks who understand and have our backs, we just have to find them ❤️❤️

14. three tags I seek out on ao3 : I actually don’t read fic on ao3. The extreme amounts of severely triggering content hosted on that site is just too much for me and I can never seem to avoid it. I only post to ao3 because I know people find it easily accessible, but I had one too many mix-ups that led to me being in a terrible state of mind, so I discontinued using the site.

15. a song I strongly associate with otp and/or favorite character : I’ll never shut up about “Time in a Bottle” by Jim Croce. Conveniently off the same record as Hop has on Vinyl and Cassette, it’s my favorite song ever because it’s so tender and loving and even though it’s old people music yall should give it a listen. It applies to any ship, but especially packs a punch with Harringrove. Also “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John.

I’ll tag: @eddie-munsons-guitar86 @honey-tongued-devil @martianclown @hephaestn @jaylikesrainbowtigers @denkiddo1 @enchanted-day-dreams @stranger-themes-blog @ratbastardbilly @thinger-strang But there’s no pressure to do it! You absolutely don’t have to if you already have or if you just don’t feel like it! <3

#tag game!#billy hargrove fandom #not content #hey thanks again! it took me a few days but this was fun!!#love doing these things they’re always really positive and fun <3

9 notes · View notes

gummybugg · 10 months

Text

Writer Questions Tag!

Thanks for the tag, @tabswrites! Find her post here. I did do this tag at some point, but I wanted to restart!

I'm gonna leave this as a fully Open tag. If anyone wants, they can say I tagged them!

...

[1] What is your absolute all-time favorite idea you’ve ever had?

Forcing myself to write more via peer pressure & to maintain a highly Positive blog to foster confidence in my writing. But also, I would say my wip Crater City, because I just like going Wild writing it. I don't have to hold back my imagination, I just use whatever comes to mind create a new path. I promise it's not as chaotic as that sounds because there is a sound plot, but I give a lot of wiggle room. Very refreshing, and it's a stark contrast to writing essays all day.

[2] Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

Not a question! But! Every time there’s a song playing and my little sister says “I’m assigning that song to your character.” (And then I tell her it’s on the character’s playlist already, ehehehe) I’m just very passionate about my characters, that’s the moral of the story :’)

[3] What is your favorite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

I’ll hit you with the double-edged sword called “I got the best idea for a scene at 3 am but I’m sooo tired, but it’s sooo gonna be worth it!” (Yet I never regret doing it)

[4] What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

Probably writing stories that are a culmination of my favorite stories. At least, that's what Crater City is so far. Not a copy, of course, but if all of my favorite apocalyptic/sci-fi media had a child, that's what it would be!

There’s a handful or 2 of some sci-fi webtoons I really adore reading! I would recommend books too, if only I could read them in a timely manner. Comics are just easier for me to consume for the time being.

[5] What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

Write what excites you and don't worry too much about if others think it's cringe. I’ve seen so many reddit threads of people asking if they can put [insert trope] in their writing, and I wish I could just scream at them: DO IT! IT’S YOUR WRITING! DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! You know there’s gotta be some people out there who’s interested in your story if at least one person you know is into it (You).

[6] What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

I wish I knew I didn't have to live up to the same expectations my family/others have for my writing. I'm an adult & can write whatever I want! I don't really feel the pressing weight of expectations to please others through my writing as much anymore, unless it's some form of commission/assignment. My characters can be gay, mentally ill, what have you, and I'm lucky I get the freedom to write them how I please.

[7] What is your favorite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

I wish I could but alas, I struggle to finish my thoughts in day-to-day life.

[8] What is your favorite out-of-the-box quote?

From one of my English professors, grading my essay: “This analogy doesn’t work here.” Here’s another one: “?????” They’re so silly, I swear.

[9] Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

At some point I said Darcy, but I’m feeling spicy today and I’m gonna go with Frasier today (both from my wip Crater City). I think everyone in that story is controversial because I kind of made everyone Unhinged. Well, as they say, “Oops, my bad.”

Anyway, the law isn’t the most important thing to Frasier, as he will do anything to make sure he gets his way. At some point (or maybe not yet) I mentioned how Blair and Elijah are lowkey like Frasier’s godchildren, so you can guarantee he’d use his mayor-assistant powers to make sure they’re safe. Many of the Crater City characters (except Darcy, I think) don’t really care about others outside their relationships, so the traumatic consequences of murder and destruction aren’t at the forefront of their minds.

It really makes me ask myself sometimes what defines a villain. Darcy is running around trying to save humanity by any means necessary (even to the point of merging humans with machines), while the rest of the cast just wants to live selfishly in the moment because they’re not promised a tomorrow. Truly interesting how things are developing. I think it makes them more human, but what do you think?

[10] If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

My younger self would be surprised I had the potential to get this far. Sometimes it’s very hard to begin writing again, but as soon as I just start, I remember what it’s like to have fun writing!

#thanks for the tag!#writing #writer questions tag #about me #open tag #In my little toy boat I sail #Admist the stormy seven seas #From where the wind blows #I am unsure of but #At least I get to be a pirate

2 notes · View notes

space-kitten-606 · 2 years

Note

Hiii!! Honestly what helped me overcome being discouraged when writing is posting on AO3 instead! I’ve never had work on ao3 not have at least a few comments. I’ve been on tumblr since 2011 and I’ve noticed that fanfiction is only popular when the fandom itself is popular (for example with mysme, just when mysme was huge back then & then the revival during quarantine, same with the other few fandoms I’m in). Aside from that, I never rly saw my own work or fellow authors work get many notes here, especially considering the tag system sucks for searching for fanfiction 🙃. If it’s not seen the first few days it’s just not seen at all. Anyway, just wanted to suggest that & to let you know that I appreciate the work you put into this blog. Thank you!

I appreciate your advice (saying that because idk if my wording my come across otherwise)!!

You see, I am on AO3. I've started at some point to carry my stuff over (my one shots at least, I wasn't too sure if the hc format works so well on AO3). I stopped because. Well actually no good reason other than I was not only just copy pasting them over but also trying to fix them a lil bit (and also setting the upload date to when I posted them on Tumblr because I didn't want to clog the mysme tag lmao) so it ended up being a lot of work to my hellbrain. I should actually get on that again, so thanks for the reminder.

Overall however, the outcome on AO3 is the same for me as here. A few hundred hits, less than hundred kudos, and max 5 comments. Except there, the comments aren't from my friends lol

You see. The reason why creators on this site, including me, keep complaining, is because it didn't use to be like that*. Most of us don't want to leave. For many of us, Tumblr is our main platform to post because it's our home.

*regardless on the popularity of the media at the time. If you didn't get many reblogs, people would at least interact (ask games, random convos etc.)

But seeing that you have been here since 2011, I probably don't need to tell you that lol

These posts in particular are about the people that are still interacting, which is plenty actually when it comes down to it! They are about the people that go through a writers blog, reblogging every single piece of art, but leaving just a like on the writing, because they don't understand how "read more" works and I suppose a wall of text is ruining their precious aesthetic (well and because they refuse to understand the tumblr algorithm).

Plus this is the exact thing the post is warning about:

"Appreciate the writers before they leave" (this includes to another platform)

Because yes, the sensible thing to do is to leave to another platform (the most obvious being AO3).

I don't know if this entire thing made sense, especially because I had to leave it in the middle because I had to work! Still, of course, I very much appreciate you anon, for trying to help and also for letting me know that you value my work.

Also yes, I know I can also post on AO3 and Tumblr at the same time just. My brain being my brain.

#kitten talks #anonymous #sometimes i can be like a grandma that refuses to use another product because the one she always got sucks now but also its the product she #always used so instead she keeps yelling about how it doesnt work as well as it used to #as a treat #i might also be a bit greedy but unfortunately my brain only works with encouragement or else it will throw chairs

9 notes · View notes

stedesparasol · 1 year

Text

tag 9 people you want to get to know better!

tagged by @blackbeardsemophase

three ships:

Look I cannot pretend I haven’t been thinking about Ed/Stede for almost an entire year non-stop at this point. C’mon now. (Hard to say where they slot in my list of all time favs since they’re pretty fresh, but since we’re on this blog they’re getting top billing.)

Mulder/Scully. The OGs, the trendsetters, the absolute 90s legends, what more can I say?

I guess the other major one in my life is Beatrice/Benedick. Despite the amount of Macbeth in my current OFMD fic, Much Ado is my actual favourite play, and lbr despite my last bullet point these two are the real OGs, trendsetters and (15)90s legends.

This list was fairly heterosexual so honorable mention to Aziraphale/Crowley (the book versions, though I thank Mr Sheen and Tennant for their services).

first ever ship: Speaking of Mr Tennant, Doctor/Rose gets to go here (though of course this includes Nine and not just Ten). I believe in RTDWho supremacy.

last song: My phone’s been on shuffle while making food so I’m halfway through Legends Never Die by Orville Peck ft. Shania Twain, which is one of his weaker songs imo despite the iconic collab. But the last song I actively selected was Happiness by The 1975 because their new album fucks and I feel 17 again.

last film: Finally watched Everything Everywhere All at Once the other day so now I’ve seen like 2 films in preparation for Oscar season... I intend to watch more but don’t bet on it.

currently reading: Nothing currently - the last book I read was Slaughterhouse 5 (following my beloved Catch-22 reread: if you’re following my Mash blog you’ll have been bombarded with the ramifications of that for months now). Sadly I didn’t really enjoy it though :/ Next up might be Jurassic Park since I found a second hand copy at a book stall, and that’s sitting on my bedside table, but whether I’ll actually get around to it any time soon is anyone’s guess.

currently watching: I watched the first episode of The Last of Us but haven’t seen the second yet, if that counts. Also rewatching OFMD as it airs on BBC2, and it’s my favourite episode tonight so that’s fun!

currently consuming: Re: the above point, Kristian’s Instagram Lives have become something I look forward to every week. Also been listening to The National’s new single a lot!

currently craving: Well I was craving pasta but then I had some so I’m all good now :’)

Thanks for tagging me! I always feel incredibly awkward tagging people in these sorts of things but here are some people who either I reblogged recently, or are in my recent activity: @bizarrelittlemew @forpiratereasons @blakbonnet @beardedblack @the-orange-in-red-silk

#there were a couple of other people it straight up wouldn't let me tag lol #anyway this was fun i love this old school tumblr shit #next they'll bring back blog ratings (god i hope not)

5 notes · View notes

annikathewitch · 1 year

Text

I posted 5,504 times in 2022

52 posts created (1%)

5,452 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@luminousdelusion

@narwhalismyname

@saturnsocoolioyep

@thecatchat

@celna-samisel

I tagged 467 of my posts in 2022

#useful - 17 posts

#yes - 9 posts

#dsmp - 8 posts

#unreality - 8 posts

#dsmpblr - 7 posts

#art class - 6 posts

#linguistics - 6 posts

#/pos - 6 posts

#badboyhalo - 5 posts

#gender - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#and then i realized he wasn’t and figured that since i didn’t recognize anyone this was probably from some tv show i’d never heard of

My Top Posts in 2022:

See the full post

23 notes - Posted March 21, 2022

Okay I’m sorry but has it occurred to anyone that one of the main ways the egg gets to people is by manipulating feelings of loss and every single one of the people who crashed the red banquet has lost someone or something important to them since then?

30 notes - Posted March 10, 2022

I love the kinda background ways that the themes of storytelling and history show up on Dsmp. Eret’s museum. Karl’s library. Ghostbur’s library (he had a library, right? I’m not misremembering things?) Ranboo’s memory books, to an extent. The lost city of Mizu.

I also think it’s interesting that basically every one of the most obvious instances of this that I can think of come from dsmp’s concerningly long list of amnesiacs.

43 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

Right, so there was something I noticed in Sam’s lore stream that I haven’t seen anyone talk about yet, specifically in relation to one of the journal entries.

Now, the only screenshots I’ve been able to get are really low quality, so I’m just gonna copy the text here.

“Journal Entry N100

The vines are running out of room to grow in the ravine. I’m digging tunnels to help them expand further. The first one will be under his house… I’m hearing the egg talk to me wherever I go now…”

The line about the first tunnel being under “his” house is what really stuck out to me, partially because of the I M P L I C A T I O N S.

We only really know of two people, as of current lore, anyway, whose house Sam Bucket could likely be referring to in this line: Bad and Sir Billiam, as they’re the only two who have really had the egg near/on their property.

This means that either a) Sam Bucket was around at the time of The Masquerade, meaning he’s probably immortal in some capacity, or at least really long lived, b) Sam Bucket was the one who put the egg under Bad and Skeppy’s house, kicking off the entirety of the eggpire arc, or c) some combination of the two.

Theory a is supported by the fact that very few people seem to know who Sam Bucket is, despite him mentioning having friends on the server. This could, however, be explained by the extremely high amount of amnesia on the server, especially since the Egg has referenced encountering Foolish before, which Foolish didn’t seem to remember.

Theory b is supported mainly by the amount of clear pictures of Bad and other references to him in the hideout, while there don’t seem to be any pictures of or references to any tftsmp characters whatsoever.

Either way, Sam Bucket has, in canon, been involved in the Egg’s history far longer than we’ve known that he, or even the Egg itself, existed. And it seems like finding out more about Sam Bucket could be the key to finding out more about the Egg.

47 notes - Posted April 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So, due to a number of reasons, I’ve been writing about characters who use neopronouns and/or more than one set of pronouns a lot more in the past year than I ever have before. And at some point, I noticed that I started thinking less about them as simply a necessity to accurately portray a character’s identity, or something that I did just because “why not?” or because it’s something that’s important to normalize, but as something I could use as a tool in the way I told stories.

Let me explain. Take a moment to just imagine the possibilities playing around with pronouns could give you. Here are some ideas (Admittedly, I only really write in English, so I don’t really know how well any of these ideas would work with languages with different pronoun systems, but I’m sure their are similar things you could do):

Imagine a character that uses multiple pronouns, and, say, the narrator trades off every scene or so (just to avoid confusion; other characters switch pronouns midsentance while referring to the character), but in some circumstances the narrator refers to someone who otherwise appears to be that character by only one of the pronouns that that character uses, which initially appears to be a part of the normal switching between pronouns thing, but is actually foreshadowing to like, a secret twin, or a shapeshifter, or any other of a wide variety of plot twists. (Ex: character who uses multiple pronouns getting weird dreams in which the narrator never refers to them by name and only uses he/him pronouns foreshadowing the fact that the dreams are actually their past self’s memories, since their past self only used he/him pronouns).

Neopronouns used to make language more clear. If every character goes by different pronouns, there’s no ambiguity, right?

On the flip side, characters using similar pronouns in some scenes to make them harder to tell apart in certain circumstances, or else to draw parallels between different characters in certain scenes. Messing with different pronouns gives you better control over ambiguity or lack thereof, even when referring to well-established characters.

Having a character with multiple pronouns makes writing dialogue like 10x easier. Y’know that issue where you have a scene with two characters who use the same pronouns talking and you have to either repeat their names a bunch or find other ways to refer to them? Well, if one of those characters switches pronouns, and you have a scene where they’re interacting with a character who uses he/him pronouns, you can have them use she/her pronouns or neopronouns, if they’re interacting with a character that used she/her pronouns you can use he/him or neopronouns and boom, problem solved!

If you’re writing fantasy or sci-fi, imagine world building a culture where which pronouns people are referred to as change based on something other than gender, such as rank, class, particular types of magical ability, job, relationship to the speaker, or any other societally relevant distinction. Even if this is never explained, readers will probably start to pick up on it, and then you can use a character’s pronouns to convey information about their background quickly and seamlessly.

Characters using neopronouns that reflect elements of their character. Pronouns are a part of gender expression, just like clothing or hair, and just like clothing or hair, people could pick certain pronouns for reasons entirely unrelated to gender. For instance, a character who has been dehumanized a lot could use it/its pronouns, not for gender reasons, but to reclaim them from those who abused it.

On a similar note, a character might use gender-neutral pronouns not because they’re nonbinary, but because their native language doesn’t have gendered pronouns, so they’re more comfortable with gender-neutral ones. Or maybe they start out using gendered pronouns and then switch to using gender-neutral ones to help show them reconnecting with that aspect of their heritage.

Characters deciding to change their pronouns as a sign of an important moment in their character arc. (Pronouns can be an expression of A LOT more than gender, as explained in the above two points, and I’m sure you can probably come up with even more ideas than just those listed here.)

One character could go by pronouns that none of the other characters do, so the audience still get hints that it’s them even when they’re not mentioned by name.

Neopronouns are shorter than names, but theoretically, if you did it right, they could carry just as much symbolism, foreshadowing, and/or other meaning.

…for example, you could use different pronouns in different situations to tell something about that situation, or as some form of symbolism, though for the latter, you may wanna stick to neos to avoid playing into traditional gender stereotypes or otherwise potentially seeming like you’re making a point about male vs. female or binary vs. nonbinary genders. Neos don’t have the gendered connotations of she/her or he him, so they’re usually judged on the vibe of the sound.

In historical settings. Historical neopronouns exist! Or, in modern, real-life-or-close-to-it settings, you could have a character use older neopronouns to indicate that the character may have been a) around for a long time (maybe there’s some fantasy elements and they’re immortal?) and involved in the queer community for a long time b) really interested in history in general or queer history in particular. They don’t necessarily have to have these meanings, but still.

This is just scratching the surface. I’m tired of writers seeing nonbinary pronouns, especially neopronouns, as a roadblock or hassle, something that detracts from their work, or else something that is necessary solely for the sake of representation, rather than the potential valuable addition to the writer’s toolbox that they are.

I’m tired of the lack of representation not just because of the lack of representation in it of itself (though that is also a big issue; normalizing gender neutral language and neopronouns is very important and literature could go a long way to help with that), but also because it’s so clear to me that in refusing to use that representation, in declaring it “too hard to write with” or “too confusing,” writers are cutting themselves off from a vast array of fascinating narrative opportunities. If you don’t know how to use them, great! It’s never too late to learn, and who knows, you (or your readers) might end up using the knowledge you learn in real life! I’m sure you weren’t born knowing how proper sentence structure or dialogue formatting works either.

Your story doesn’t have to be about gender or have a deeper message about its role in society for non-standard pronouns to be something you can use. Let your dragon be referred to as ae/aer. Let your superhero switch between multiple sets of pronouns. Let your escaped lab experiment reclaim “it/its.” Let your characters go by an array of pronouns as wide as the distribution of their names.

You don’t have to explain. You don’t have to have an in-universe explanation, not if you don’t want one. Your reader should be able to figure it out on their own, and like with most symbolism, explaining could detract from its power unless it’s a specific focus. At the end of the day, pronouns are just words, and as a writer, words are your tools to use as you see fit. Some might carry certain historical or real world baggage, but that’s true outside of just pronouns; just do some research, handle it as respectfully as you can, and don’t let it stop you from exploring this whole entire aspect of the language you use.

120 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

2 notes · View notes