#blake gray imagines

[snowdrop-ivy]

Life With U {Blake Gray AU}

A/N: Hey! It's me again. I have a lot of backlogs of ideas that I need to write but I saw these drafts I made when I was obsessed with the sway boys particularly Blake Gray so sharing it with you and I hope you like it! Summary: Gabriella tackles life, heartbreak, friendship, being a social media influencer, and falling for that hunk named, Blake Gray.

There's always a boundary about life and internet. Some don't share their life and some do, just like me. I never even imagined it would bloom into a whopping  80M followers. I mean it just started from a single rant about my high school life transitioned to beauty, dance, and music videos. Still grateful tho.

I rolled my eyes at this 4th take of TikTok video. This is the last chance, if this won't work out, I'm done.

"Gab!" Avery, my bestfriend called from downstairs.

"Yeah?" I yelled.

"Imma head out to Taco Bell. Do you want something?"

"No," I answered. "I'm okay. Take care!"

"Okay, Gabriella, this is the last take. If you can't do it perfectly, you're done," I warned myself.

My hands went flying as I screamed when I perfected the dance. I immediately uploaded it then laid on my bed to take a nap. I have this long test tomorrow and I haven't studied anything.

"Gabriella?" Avery's voice getting louder and louder with the knocks on the door. I immediately opened the door. "Let's go skating."

My eyes opened wide. "Excuse me?" I scoffed. "It's 2 in the afternoon."

"Yeah? And?"

I mocked her. "It's blazing hot."

"Don't be a pussy," she dragged me outside, shoved me my board, then we headed out.

I didn't really had a choice because she's my bestfriend and I love her too much to say no. We are skating downtown to get some sun because we don't really get some Vitamin C.

"That's the sway boys," Avery pointed at Kyo's and his friends' making TikToks outside. "We should say 'hi'," she said, I just nodded.

"Hey, Gab!" Kio shouted. We went near them and hugged each other. "How you've been?"

"I'm good," I said and I hugged all of them except for 2 guys.

One brown-eyed tanned one and white blue-eyed one.

"Oh, by the way, this is Noah and this is Blake," Bryce introduced us. New members, I guess I never attend the meetings they asked us to I just ask Griffin to take some notes. I think I saw them here everyday filming TikToks with the boys. I'm not really here much than I'm supposed to because I'm finishing college.

"Gabby," I shook their hands.

We all went inside to hang out because it was blazing hot. Q's doing a live with Anthony that's why Bryce and Griff are so fucking rowdy. Messing up his live in every way they know. I was in the kitchen hanging out with Kio, Josh, Jaden, and the 2 newbies. Kio's cooking pasta with me and the boys are just talking about casual things.

"How is that different?" Blake laughed. They're probably talking about Noah's hairstyle that he said is 'different'.

I really can't believe that these 2 are just 19 years old. Boys at my school, when they were their age, didn't looked like this. Life is really unfair.

The pasta's done and I served them their plating's which they all said 'Thank you' with their mocked kisses.

"Good?" I laughed when I saw Jaden's face full of pasta sauce from slurping. I handed him a tissue. "Careful, babe, you're not in a competition."

"This shit is so fucking good!" Josh slurped more pasta.

Blake and I locked eyes and we both shook  our heads. Damn, those blue eyes. It's very pulling.

"What's that?" Bryce shouted from the hall. He went inside the kitchen with them, still on live. "Here we have, Gabriella, cooking pasta for us because she loves so that much."

I just rolled my eyes and waved at the camera. "Do you guys want some?"

They sat down as I served them more pasta. Griffin does this thing where he pretends he's in a mukbang but this time he did it on a live.

"Today," he cleared his throat. "We are going to eat Gabby's ~special~ pasta."

"Very special," Bryce added.

"So special," Q said. "She only does this for us."

"We're that special to her," Anthony added. "Right, Gab?"

I flipped them off and laughed. My phone rang and it was Tayler calling.

"Hey," I answered. We were supposed to go out and eat but I lost track of time.

"Hype boys are hanging out here. We could just cancel the reservation and hang here."

"Okay," I nodded. "That sounds good. You guys complete there?"

"Yeah," he said. "Well, he's here. Is that okay? We can just hang out in my room."

I shrugged. "No, it's okay. We broke up months ago, I'm okay already."

"Lies."

We both laugh.

"I hate you."

"I love you too, sweetheart. I'll see you here."

I bid goodbye and hung up the phone. I scratched my nose and head back to the kitchen. Q's finished with his live that's why they're just hanging out. Drinking beer and eating pasta.

"I'm gonna go to Hype's. Do you guys want to come?" I asked them.

People think that there's beef between the two houses but there really isn't. We're all good friends and some fans really need to calm down on making false teas.

"Hayes' there, right?" Q asked.

I nodded and scratched my nose once again. It's itching like fuck.

"Is that okay for you?" Kio asked.

Out of them, he's the most protective when it comes to Hayes.

"Yeah," I answered. "I'm going there for Tayler not for him."

"You'd better be," Griffin said. He hates Hayes the most.

"Why'd you guys break up, tho?" Noah suddenly asked. "You two dated for what? Two? Three years?"

"Yeah, three," I said. "He cheated. So we broke up."

"Oh," his face suddenly went aloof. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's okay, babe, you didn't know anything," I smiled at him.

There were articles surfacing on why we broke up but I didn't give a full answer. It just wasn't right to bring our problems to the public because they're not involved on the breakup.

"You guys coming?" I asked them. They all nodded and get their selves ready while I clean the kitchen.

Avery went home because she said she isn't feeling the Hype. Noah went outside to answer a call. Blake and I cleaned the kitchen while waiting for them.

"You want to do a TikTok after this?" I asked him as he's wiping the island.

He just nodded and smiled. He became timid when it's just the two of us so I thought of the perfect TikTok video to break the ice. I'll probably do the same to Noah.

"What do you want to do?" He asked, while scrolling through his phone.

"Do you wanna do 24 Man?" I suggested.

He nodded. We "practiced" but I made him sat down to "add" some steps.

"What is this?" He laughed, confusedly. I placed his phone to the bar window to start the video.

"Just trust me, Blake-y boo," I laughed.

"Is that my nickname?" He asked. He probably knows what I call the other boys.

I winked and started the timer. Although his phone's useless because I'm going to use my phone.

"Wait here," I said and left to start the music. I'm already laughing my ass off so I don't how I'm going to pull this off.

I slowly made my way towards him, who's busy dancing the steps.

"Jackrabbit when he put the dick in it

How you nut and you barely put the tip in it?

Sixty seconds, got him gone, that's a quick minute

He ain't never felt some pussy with some grip in it

Hair done, nails done like a bad bitch"

We laughed our asses off and kissed him on the cheek after filming it.

"That's one fucking good TikTok," I laughed. "I think that broke the ice, right?"

"That sure broke the ice."

I did that to all of them to ease into it but it didn't change much because we were hanging out already ever since before Sway happened.

We waited for Noah to finish to do an actual TikTok where you're dancing. We did 24 Man, Rags2Riches, and Wet.

Griffin drove my car to the Hype House because I was too lazy to drive. I'm with Bryce, Blake, and Josh. The others are on the other car, obviously.

"I don't have a good feeling about this," Bryce said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, replying to some comments on my latest video on TikTok.

"I feel like he's going to talk to you and beg you to come back together again..."

"Yeah, yeah," Griff nodded. "What if you just hang out with Tyler in his room?"

"And we keep Hayes off of your sight. I know how douche-y he gets when he sees us hanging with you," Josh said.

"Fucking pussy," Bryce joked and they all laughed.

"You don't have to hate him," I rolled my eyes at them. "He made a mistake and owned up to it. We both moved on and you guys should do too."

"He made that mistake three times, Gab," Griff reminded.

Yeah, thanks for the reminder.

"Wait, is that his anniversary gift to you?" Bryce laughed. I just flipped my finger. Such a dickhead.

Some Hype boys are outside when we got there taking some pictures with fans. We got outside and did the same thing before greeting them.

"Are you here for Hayes or Tayler?" a fan asked which made Bryce and Griffin laugh.

"I'm here for Hype, no specific person," I lied because if I said I'm here for either of them some drama is going to happen and I hate that.

"She came here for me guys, #Gabony is fucking real," Tony hugged me from the back and kissed me on the cheek.

This boy really love the drama. "I hate you so much," I laughed and hugged him back.

"You sure do, babe," he chuckled.

Tayler met me at the gate and gave me a hug which made the fans scream.

"Please date already!"

"Tomorrow, we're busy today!" I joked and we both laughed.

"Sure, you hate drama," he rolled his eyes. "We should probably just hang out in my room because Hayes is drunk and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

I nodded, he's right. Hayes' is uncontrollable when  he's drunk.

"That's the best thing you ever said since you were born, man," Bryce shook his hands.

The boys did too. Tyler knows Noah and Blake already and it makes me so left out because I was out for a month due to exams. I'm on my last year before graduating college and after that, take the board exams and we'll see if I have the strength to go to med school.

I greeted the Hype members first before going to Tyler's room. I laid down his bed and he opened the Netflix so we can watch that crime documentary series I've been pleading him to watch with me.

"We should do TikTok after this," he suggested in the middle of the series. 

I nodded because I was so focused on the series. This is the only time I can catch up of the long list of  series that I have to watch because he's the only friend who's more patient to watch it with me and wake me up whenever I start to doze off.

"Hey, what's up, man?" He talked to someone on the phone.

I washed my hands and got outside the bathroom. "Who's that?"

"Hey, who's that?" The guy on the phone asked. He turned the phone to me and it was Jason, "Gabriella Bree! What's up, baby?"

"Hey," I laughed and sat beside Tayler. "I'm good. How 'bout you, man?"

"All good. All good," he replied. "Say 'Hi' to the  fans tho," he said.

My eyebrow arched as I look confusedly at Tayler. I shook my head in confusion when he and Jason laughed so hard. 

"It's FaceTime, right?" I asked him to which he just laughed louder in response.

"You're on Instagram live, Gabby," he said, chuckling.

I gasped in shock. How come that's Instagram live?! I didn't know the new update consisted of that. I am so behind the time now, I feel so fucking old. He scooted over to let me watch in peace while he talks to Jason.

"Are you guys now dating?" Tayler read a comment. He turned to me to let me answer the question.

"Yes, we are. I just asked him to be my boyfriend finally after seven fucking years!" I screamed, raised my hands in Hoo-ray, and chuckled.

"That's the answer guys, the moment of truth. Yes, we're fucking dating."

He ended the live shortly after that. It's these times where I don't care about the drama, I just let people assume what they want because at the end of the day, the people involved in it are the ones who knows the truth. And not the goddamn internet.

>Part 2<

#blake gray #blake gray x reader #noah beck #bryce hall #hype house #swayboys #blake gray au #au fanfiction #fanfiction #blake gray imagines #sway boys imagine #sway boys au #sway boys fanfic

[poppletonink]

Dark Academia: An Inspired Reading Recommendations List

If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio

The Secret History by Donna Tartt

The Plays of Oscar Wilde

Gentlemen & Players by Joanne Harris

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar Allan Poe

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt

The Enola Holmes Books by Nancy Springer

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Macbeth by William Shakespeare

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

Circe by Madeline Miller

Mythology by Edith Hamilton

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

The Sherlock Holmes Mysteries by Arthur Conan Doyle

People Like Us by Dana Moyle

The Ivies by Alexa Donne

The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

Truly Devious by Maureen Johnson

#dark acadamia aesthetic #books #book blog #readblr #booklr #book reccs #literature #dark academia #dark academic aesthetic #oscar wilde #edgar allan poe #dark academism #book list #book recommendations #book lover #booksbooksbooks #the secret history #richard papen #henry winter #the picture of dorian gray #dorian gray #dark acamedia #dark academia aesthetic #bookaddict #bookblogger #books and literature #enola holmes books #enola holmes #jane austen #charlotte bronte

[snixkers]

Wrinkles like Rivers

Pairing: Alex Blake × Fem!Reader

Hurt/Comfort

For: @olderwomenaremyfavs

Content Warning: References to canon violence (drugs/crime), age gap (reader is in her 30s, Alex is in her 50s), very brief suggestive comment, insecurity over appearance

Summary: At a work function, Alex feels like the other agents have her beat, in more ways than one.

Author's Note: Omg! This is my first fic posted on this site, so I'm super excited! Hope this is what you were hoping for!

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN

It was another Bureau function, and the atmosphere was relaxed and casual. Agents usually consumed with the worst of humanity were able to escape, just for a bit, and find comfort in a night out. You mingled with some people, recognizing names but not faces from your girlfriend's stories.

For some reason, these events seemed to have the opposite effect on Alex, who usually ended up silent and brooding in the corner. You could tell she was thinking about something, but she always brushed it off so confidently that you were certain you were imagining it. After all, she was the profiler, not you.

Tonight was a different story. You could see it in her tense shoulders, her narrowed eyes, and her half-smile. Her glass was still full, although that wasn't unusual for her. Even though it wasn't your profession, you were certainly a profiler when it came to her.

You excused yourself from an agent telling you stories about her escapades busting a drug ring, making your way back to the woman watching you with rapt attention. She blinked out of her stupor when she noticed you, quickly throwing on a smile and wrapping her arm around you. It was a nice attempt, but you couldn't be fooled.

"Alex," you began, "is something bothering you?"

She shook her head, although you anticipated that reaction. Alex always kept her emotions sealed away in a vault that you rarely were given the key to. You sighed, wrapping your hands around her wrist gently and leading her off to an empty hallway.

You decided to try again, within the comfort of your sole presence.

"Alex, I know something's bothering you. And I'd appreciate it if you'd let me help."

She let out a sigh, her smile fading slightly as she fiddled with the ends of her hair.

"It's not important."

You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Alex *was* important. She could tell you that the sky was green and you would agree.

"Alex, please. I want to know so I can fix the problem."

She sighed, avoiding your gaze and taking a small sip of the wine provided by a rather wealthy colleague of hers.

"Watching you talk to all of those other agents, it's just hard for me. They're young, they're good in the field. Their stories are more exciting."

Your heart melted in your chest, trying to soothe any insecurities she might have.

"I don't care. You've been in longer than they have. You're more smart logical and strategic. Plus, I like a woman with a little experience."

She held back a snort at your words, but her eyes still held traces of doubt.

"It's not just about the brains. Just look at me. I mean, you could date anyone you want. There must be someone out there who's younger and prettier."

You frowned, the warmth in your chest quickly evaporating. "Alex, no. I love you. I love everything about you. I love the way your eyes crease when you laugh. I love the wrinkles on your forehead. I love the gray hairs you're hiding. Do you know why? Because to me, that stuff makes you even more beautiful."

Her gaze softened, and you could practically see her trying to come up with another excuse for why she wasn't good enough. You shook your head, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

"I'm always going to pick you, Alex."

She nods, taking a deep breath and kissing you back a little deeper, trying to convey the gratitude she felt. Luckily, another part of being such an expert on how she felt was that you already knew.

You smiled back, glancing over at the party.

"Should we head home?"

She nods in agreement, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you back out to the party, the both of you clinging to each other the way you always would.

"Absolutely. Garcia told me about this game called 'Wordle', and I want to try it out."

#alex blake x reader #alex blake #first post #wlw #fluff #hurt/comfort #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #jeanne tripplehorn

[imbleedingink-blog]

a dark academia reading list

If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio

The Secret History by Donna Tartt

The Plays of Oscar Wilde

Gentlemen & Players by Joanne Harris

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar Allan Poe

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt

The Enola Holmes Books by Nancy Springer

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Macbeth by William Shakespeare

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

Circe by Madeline Miller

Mythology by Edith Hamilton

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

The Sherlock Holmes Mysteries by Arthur Conan Doyle

People Like Us by Dana Moyle

The Ivies by Alexa Donne

The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

Truly Devious by Maureen Johnson

#academia #books #literature #poetry #english literature #dark academia reading list #reading list #dark academia #the secret history #song of achilles #if we were villains #shakespeare #edgar allan poe #sherlock holmes #the atlas six #dead poets society #dps #the picture of dorian gray #oscar wilde #virginia woolf #jane austen #donna tartt

[pilot-boi]

LET ADD MORE TRAUMA TO CAT VS DOG cause I thought this and so you must suffer with me after getting back Jaune due to CC trauma spilled something on his shirt and takes it off and what does everyone see? A bunch of claw scars all over his body and RWBY sees it was not just psychologically abusive but also very much physically.

Been looking for an excuse to post this for a while, so hope y’all like ;)

———

The Punderstorm is a bad time all around

Jaune tells RW about Alyx and Lewis while not mentioning a thing about CC. Even less than they’re mentioned in the original. To the point where it’s obvious CC was there during the events, Jaune is just deliberately avoiding talking about them

Weiss was already suspicious after the cat said “You didn’t tell your friends about us?” Because what is THAT supposed to mean?! But she gets even more sus after CC appears in the Punderstorm and Juane seems torn between standing between CC and RW, and hiding behind his friends.

Especially when the timeline diverges slightly, with CC still leaving but promising to be back to see their Sunshine.

And when Jaune flinches, Weiss sees. Because it’s the same way her mom would flinch every time Jacques moved too quickly.

They exit the storm, and Jaune is too shaken to even tease Blake and Yang about getting together. He doesn’t even notice when Weiss pulls Blake aside to talk, shooting him NOT subtle glances the whole time. All he can hear is CC’s voice, laughing in his mind.

While Jaune retreats into his mind to have his breakdown in peace, Weiss talks to the newly smitten bees about everything she saw. And they might be smitten, but BOTH of them are alert immediately when Weiss describes how Jaune acted around CC.

Personal experience is a bitch.

CC is a different flavor of toxic, sure. Less angry, more saccharine, but dangerous all the same.

When Weiss brings up that he flinched like her mother does, Yang’s mind drifts unbidden to the streaks of white in Jaune’s hair and the gray in his once-blue eyes. Blake was only with Adam for a few years. What could’ve happened to her if she was with him for DECADES with no hope of truly escaping?

Unfortunately they don’t have to imagine, because it seems like Jaune is a living specimen.

He takes them to his village, his home ever since getting poisoned by Alyx. And Jaune, shaken to his core and seconds from a panic attack, pulls a classic Jaune move and puts his fracturing psyche aside because Ruby Needs Crescent Rose.

Let it never be said that he has healthy coping mechanisms.

Weiss is more concerned because the Punderstorm clearly put them in situations that they needed to confront. It sped up what were inevitable meetings. It brought Yang and Blake together, and for some reason it brought Jaune and the cat together.

They have to talk to him. Ruby is getting some well earned sleep, so she’s not going to be any help. Yang and Blake share an unspoken conversation in that way that never fails to get on Weiss’s nerves, and Yang reluctantly agrees to let the two of them handle it.

When they step through the doorway, the first thing they see is his armor, rusted and corroding in a neat pile by the wall. Jaune is just sitting on his bed, on top of the paper covers, stock still and staring at his hands that are white-knuckling his knees. His hair is short, cropped even closer to his skull than it was before and streaked with so much white that there’s barely any blonde left.

Not for the first time BLake wonders if he’s been here long enough for age to do that to him, or if the stress of this fairy tale land was enough.

With the armor removed, they can see thick bands of white scarring up and down his arms, across his neck, curling away under the sleeves of his tattered Pumpkin Pete hoodie. The logo is all but gone. The scars look like claw marks, too narrow to be from the Jabberwalker.

Possessive.

Claiming.

A cat’s scratching post turned human.

Weiss wants to scream, but more than anything she wants to take Myrtenaster and give that fucking cat a taste of their own medicine. But Blake just walks forward, being careful to keep her movements clear and her footsteps loud. She sits on the bed and Jaune still doesn’t move, doesn’t even look at her.

Weiss thinks it would’ve been better if he’d flinched. This still, small, silent Jaune is worse than any Grimm. That’s not her friend.

Blake is rubbing circles into Jaune’s back, and Weiss feels like an idiot because she’s just STANDING there. She’s never been good at gentle comfort, hard truths are more her go to. But Jaune looks like if he heard a hard truth right now he might shatter like so much glass. A broken children’s doll with scars as cracks in the porcelain of his goosebump-covered skin.

Eventually Blake catches her eyes and her gaze softens. She nods her head to Jaune’s other side, and that’s all the invitation Weiss needs. All the while Blake keeps rubbing slow circles into Jaune’s back.

Now that she’s closer, Weiss can see that he isn’t frozen still, he’s trembling. Trembling in a way she hasn’t seen since nearly carrying her to the portal exit, shattered sword in one hand. Since charging at a Maiden with a death wish in his heart. Since stumbling back to the docks in Glynda’s wake, tear tracks making silverly lines through the dirt on his face and too-familiar lipstick smeared on his mouth.

“You know, Adam used to call me Darling,” Blake says quietly.

Weiss’s breath catches at the forbidden name, but Blake’s voice is steady. Even keeping vigil with their near comatose friend, she can’t help the curl of pride at how far her teammate has come.

“It’s such a simple thing, but I still can’t bear to be called that,” Blake continues, voice quiet and steady. “It’s a terrible thing to be trapped like that. Nobody deserves to be trapped with… with someone you hate and love and fear all at the same time.”

And finally Jaune’s shell cracks, a sob like a desperate gasp for air escaping his lips.

The trembling turns to tremors which turn to shaking sobs which turn to all out wails as Jaune crumbles like he’s as fragile as the paper covers they all sit on.

#rwby #jaune arc #curious cat #blake belladonna #weiss schnee #catsvdogs #mine #asks #my writing #cameron56357

[sinnaminttoast]

We got a balance update and I’m here to give you my nonsensical commentary/thoughts on it

Oh boy am I ready/nervous for what awaits me in this video.

Will I have a nervous breakdown about the possibilities of what this video will contain? Maybe, but you’ll never know.

Anyways…onto my thoughts

Oh??? So smartass is gonna be caught up on what’s going on. Alright…I mean I think we only ever had Geordi’s reaction to magic so this’ll be interesting.

SMARTASS REMEMBERING THE CARDS THING 😭😭 oh they are…let me date smartass plzzz

LMAOOO OH THEY REALLY GAGGED HIM 🤭

Smartass just already knowing magic exists “like yeah…I know people with cool powers exist. So what?”

Yo if I was smartass and someone told me “this involves kidnapping and conspiracy..”

I’M…I’m not mentally equipped for this one Aar bear 😁✌️

Elliot and Smartass are both of my brain cells theorizing about what the fuck is going on.

Someone strong enough to sneak in and sneak out you say??? 🤨

I think I know of a STRONG stealth who can SNEAK around…👀

Not Asher catching strays for no reason. PAPERWORK IS UGLY OKAY?? I understand him.

“Or maybe he just got better at hiding it.” OKAY! Alright! That line right there….WOW OKAY! Let’s not even open that one because as someone who is anxious…😬 oh it’s rough. Let’s just say that line hit a little too close to home.

Okay me and Elliott can be anxiety buddies…

I know I can be unserious but let’s be serious for a sec.

It’s actually so amazing how Erik makes sure we remember how awful the tragedy of the inversion was. Yeah sure we had the inversion videos to guide us through it but even now Erik makes sure we know that it still affected people outside of those characters.

That it left the department in disarray and with people feeling completely lost about what had happened.

Was not expecting to hear a southern accent but I’m not mad.

I want to know how the department has been dealing with Closeknit …CAUSE NO SERIOUSLY! They literally just kidnapped someone 😭

Oh wow…I didn’t know you…okay mysterious agent tell us your violent fantasies of what you’d like to do with Close Knit.

EMOTIONALLY COMPROMISED?! 😦

Oh wow!

Elliott is gonna be sick y’all.

“I can’t lose them Aaron.”

So does Erik want me to jump off the edge rn?? /J

“They were so scared… in the dream. I tried to tell them what they had to do to fight it. I tried to help…but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. I’m supposed to be able to protect them. Dreams are the one thing I’m good at. The one thing I know better than anything else…and I couldn’t help them.”

Send the flood. I’m being so serious.

ELLIE AND SUNSHINE I’LL GET YOU OUTTA THERE 🏃‍♀️💨

WELL THE MISSION HASN’T HAPPENED! According to the summit…Closeknit is still up and running so 🫠

THAT HE’S GONNA WHAT AARON??

I imagine that even though it is killing him to think about Sunshine…he needs them like the air he breathes.

(Yes I stole that from a Conan gray song and yes it hurt me to write that.)

“They were a good balance for one another.”

CAN YOOU LET ME BREATHE FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND??

I’ll go get Sunshine myself if no one else will!

And we end with a kiss and uncertainty

So that was the end of that video….

I usually end with a meme but how do I end this without furiously sobbing???

I really tried to be light hearted with this one BUT IT WAS A STRUGGLE TO NOT CRY!

When I catch you Closeknit…oh it’s gonna go down…ESPECIALLY YOU BLAKE😺

I’ll make him eat my foot 🦶 and I’m so serious

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted the balance #redacted elliott #redacted aaron #redacted smartass #redacted sunshine

[bodybeyondstories]

Just ignore it - 5

The gang takes a field trip to the Marshlands to study the artifact that Blake brought in. As they get closer, David loses even more control over his reality warping imagination, and things get weird. Then they get weirder.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 (Previous) | 6 (Next)

MaleTF // Ass Growth // Dick Growth // Growth // Macro // Suggestion // nsfw

Author note: I was reflecting on how this series was originally supposed to end with part 2, but then @alias-miniature shared some words of encouragement and here we are. I think I wrote the climax of this chapter while I was still playing around with part 3, I've just been spending months finding excuses to wax poetic about some wobbly spacetime nonsense lol.

---

“Ooo are we taking the Mystery Machine?” I asked, voice echoing off the concrete pillars of the parking garage.

“We really don’t need to call it that,” said Armand. He pushed a utility cart laden with equipment as he led our group towards a row of old vehicles that the Center for Supernatural Sciences had acquired used, offhand, or through some nefarious means over the years, the most recent of which being a blue and green SUV well suited for group field trips off the beaten path. The obvious nickname being to me–and most everyone else in my opinion–the Mystery Machine.

“But we are taking it,” Lee confirmed.

Armand opened the hatchback, revealing a spacious interior already pre-prepped for our little adventure. The entire second row had been removed, as well as all but one seat in the back. Packs of what looked like hiking supplies, snacks, and a cooler were arranged on the floor toward the front, leaving an open space just large enough for our pallet full of magical gizmos. Without thinking, I squatted down and picked it up, sliding it neatly into place.

“What?” I asked, noticing Armand’s stare. “Does it not go there?” I quickly remembered that lifting the entire pallet of whimsical yet heavy duty tools and gadgets like a sack of potatoes was not a normal thing that someone was supposed to be able to do. Even someone with my physique. I’d been having some hiccups in getting used to my new strength, evidenced by the similarly incredulous stares that morning as I was casually outpacing rush hour traffic on my bike to work.

“We’ll fill you in,” said Lee, patting Armand on the shoulder as he strolled past us to lounge in the lone third row seat, elegantly stretching his legs across the extra space. 

Armand sighed in resignation, hopping into the driver's seat as I plopped down into the passenger. “We’re meeting Blake at the site in the Marshlands, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

—

The Mystery Machine headed east along the interstate through the dignified gray hinterlands patiently awaiting a snow fall. Handing Lee the aux cord wasn’t the best idea, but at least he was trying to match the mood of the early winter landscape in between bubble gum pop hits, a welcome respite from Armand’s request for a locally produced, surprisingly dull, occult news podcast that he kept up with for “research.” I fell into the flow of rolling hills and stands of denuded trees, unable to fully drift off due to the magnetic tug coming from the back of the car.

I hadn’t gotten solid details about the artifact that Blake had brought in, and that we were now transporting back to where it came from. Admittedly, I had still been in a haze of post-coital bliss when Lee filled me in on the situation, more interested in the sight of him maneuvering his girthy snake back into his pants than the words that had been coming out of his mouth. But I got the gist.

The artifact had come from the Marshlands, but not from the Marshlands, so to speak. According to Blake, it had been sitting in a perfectly circular clearing on a patch of higher ground, waiting there long enough to become half buried in humus and partially coated in a fuzzy moss.

“Waiting is the important word here,” said Lee. “That’s how Blake mentioned it multiple times. Like it was waiting to be found.”

“But it hadn’t been there long?” I asked, pulling a backup pair of leggings out of a desk drawer after having torn my original pair like tissue paper trying to get them to cooperate with my glutes.

“Relatively speaking, no. We can’t quite pinpoint when it appeared there, but we don’t think it was placed by human hands. The physical and metaphysical signatures point to somewhere other than the Marshlands. Somewhere else. It was causing disturbances in the cleanroom that we hadn’t seen before.”

“Like how the sigils changed color?”

“Yeah. They turned into a lightshow after you left, you should’ve seen it.”

The actual artifact appeared to be some sort of device. A copper colored sphere about the size of a soccer ball, that felt like unglazed clay to the touch and was much heavier than it had any right to be. Patterns of some inscrutable design were inlaid across its surface in flowing lines of gold, teal and lavender that seemed to glow with their own passive light. 

“We took a 3D scan and sent it over to archives to see if they had any reference to decode it,” said Lee. “But Logan said every time he opens the file it looks slightly different on his monitor. His tech can only figure it out partially, but never enough to crack the code. You remember Logan, right?”

“How could I forget,” I said with obvious sarcasm, looking forward to catching up with the archivist who inadvertently started all this mess. 

“He thinks the only way to figure it out is to conduct experiments with it on site. He’s supposed to be out there with Blake, preparing the area. ”

That can’t be good, I thought, but reminded myself that it wasn’t all Logan’s fault. It’s not like he was planning on becoming the conduit for some ancient horny trickster deity, or was even trained to effectively deal with that scenario. This sort of thing was part of my job and even I was slowly crumbling under the pressure of Synt’s unrelenting power. It’s a miracle Logan lasted as long as he did. Sometimes it felt like the boundaries of my corporeal form were becoming thinner and thinner, my perception of mundane reality slowly beginning to fade into Synt’s casually multidimensional experience.

—

As we approached the Marshlands, the barriers between worlds began to blur even further. My senses kept expanding in weird directions in physical space and other space, the passing landscape enlivened with echoes and resonances of nearby timelines bumping up against our own. I could feel the artifact in the back of the Mystery Machine more strongly, but the blunt magnetic tug was slowly resolving into something more nuanced. Like a complex rhythm underneath Lee’s playlist, overlapping patterns of subsonic vibes that manifested in my head as the shifting glow of the lines across the sphere. As the mental image came together in increasing sharpness, the ball opened–not mechanically, but through some sort of phase change, its solid surface shifting into–

The van shuddered to a halt, bringing me back to reality as Armand turned the engine off. We had come off the interstate onto some county road and stopped at a nondescript gas station with no other vehicles in sight. Without the flow of the rolling highway landscape to distract me, I could almost taste how fuzzy reality was out here. There were whorls and eddies of chaotic possibility that were almost as iridescent as the puddles on the ground. Maybe it was something about the geography, maybe I was spending too much time in close proximity to the artifact, maybe the outlines of my form that identified me as a discrete being in this world were being erased from the inside out. Maybe all of the above. Regardless, I tried to tamp down the flutter of worry that sprung up in my stomach, shifting into the conspicuous ‘just act normal’ affect of someone who’s just realized they’ve misjudged an edible.

Armand chatted briefly with the station attendant, who seemed unable to decide if it was less rude to gawk at the anaconda running around Armand’s left hip or the sight of Lee stretching his arms up and towering over the SUV. He relented, keeping his attention pointedly directed at the task of filling up the tank. Armand headed inside to scope out snacks, a slight wobble in his gait as he maneuvered his dick into a more comfortable position, while Lee wandered off a little to admire the scenery and stretch his legs.

Without the distraction of my companions, and unwilling to try and settle back into a nap, I twisted around to rummage through the snack cooler, tossing the dried fruit and trail mix aside to snatch up the family size bag of some obscure brand of cheese puffs. The complex notes coming from the artifact (that seemingly no one else could hear) had settled into background noise, piquing my attention as they became slightly discordant, building in what felt like anticipation. As I angled myself back up, I paused, catching the gaze of the station attendant through the open rear window. He looked awestruck, and with one leg splayed across the driver's seat and my amazonian ass perched in the air, I could figure out why.

“I, uh, sorry,” he said, looking distraught as he forced himself to tear his eyes away from the sight of my supernaturally round butt cheeks. He was adorable as he blushed, still biting into his lower lip.

“It’s cool,” I chuckled. “Cheese puffs?” I opened the bag of bright orange corn products, offering them in his direction.

“I’m good,” he said. “I’m trying to stop eating those. Pretty sure they’re going straight to my hips.”

He had this look on his face like he was surprised he even said that, which just added to how cute his visible embarrassment was. But as the words left his lips, the notes from the artifact began to crescendo ever so slightly, harmonizing with that all too familiar feeling of Synt’s power emerging into this realm, the anticipation building.

Oh, I thought. I see. It almost felt as if this scenario had been written for us, and with the wobbliness of my current perception of linear time, it was a little more clear that it kind of had. The notes had been laid out and all we had to do was hit them. So I already knew what to expect as I said my next line, “Then you must eat these all the time.”

And there it was. His stance shifted slightly as we settled into a timeline in which he had already had a bubble butt juicy enough to see from the front.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a problem,” he said with a nervous laugh, one hand resting on the shelf of his ass while the other moved the gas pump back into place. “Honestly, I was about to ask you for advice. Hard to find pants that fit my…shape, out here in the boonies.”

And it was obvious why. His khakis looked painted on, straining against the melons that ballooned from his lower back. I could practically hear the stitches screaming in terror from the dreaded cheese puffs that had been the downfall of so many of their predecessors, as if sheer proximity to the artificially flavored snack dust in the air risked pushing his bubble butt to a level of catastrophic stress, until–

I caught a glimpse of his cakes seeming to expand, not through the usual flipbook of timelines, but physically in ‘real’ time, growing bigger and rounder before my very eyes. He took notice too, turning his torso just in time to see the seat of his pants completely give way, falling apart as his ass cheeks expanded into open air, clad in only a pair of pink and white striped bikini briefs that barely covered the top of his shelf.

“Ah shit!” he exclaimed, trying and failing to pull the fabric back together over an ass that actually was bigger than it had been thirty seconds ago. “I think I’ve got some backups in my locker. Have a good one!”

“Oh, no problem,” I offered, watching the globes of his butt cheeks swish back and forth as he power walked back inside, mildly apologetic in the knowledge that whatever replacement pants he already had would bear the exact same fate.

That time, it had felt so familiar, yet slightly different. The nuances of Synt’s power were so much clearer out here, like I could taste the full complexity of the flavor profile, but with that, the barriers between their world and this one were much more porous. Or maybe I was just better at reading the cracks, tunnels, and pathways. Out here, it was more apparent that the mental, physical, and metaphysical coordination of vocal speech was just a way to channel short bursts of magic from one side of the divide to the other. And without the usual solidity of the barriers between worlds, maybe the unchecked power of imagination could slip through just as easily.

“That you?” asked Lee, who had apparently strolled back to the van just in time to see the attendant’s comically large ass split his pants wide open, letting his hand grab a handful of cheese puffs as he also indulged in the sight of the attendant’s purposeful stride back to the convenience store.

“Yup,” I muttered. “Be careful with those, I heard they go straight to your hips.” I had been joking, but was also genuinely concerned that I may have inadvertently cast a spell on this exact brand of junk food that was now creating bubble butted men across its distribution range. I made a mental note to look into that right after all the other magical calamities spawning off around me.

—

The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful, encouraged by the fact that Armand had somehow gained control of the aux cord and was dragging us through an audiobook about spectral informatics that he was already half way into. I was still crammed up front, dutifully pretending to be asleep but actually fighting every urge not to phase accidentally out of the car. I shuddered with metaphysical tension, the weight of my cosmic companion eroding away any solid grasp on reality.

Lee, with his boundless patience and grace, humored his lab partner, asking lazy yet helpful questions while he lounged in the back, dinner plate size hands still dwarfed by the firehose bulge that he stroked absentmindedly. He looked like he could stretch to fill the entire length of the Mystery Machine if we wanted to, like he could indulgently take up more space as easily as yawning. The harmonics of the artifact sitting resolutely next to him seemed to resonate with his lithe form, and in my partial consciousness I couldn’t help but imagine his body slipping into semi-liquidity with the notes, stretching slightly with the rhythm but each time not quite returning all the way to where it began. He could really become the embodiment of grace if he wanted. If I wanted. As county roads turned to back roads and we passed the vine covered “Marshlands State Park” sign, the trees in the landscape seemed to stretch up with similar ease, yawning in the breeze. I imagined Lee strolling through the forest, towering over us as he stretched with them.

I could no longer keep up a convincing facade of unconsciousness as the van turned off the small forest road onto a poorly maintained gravel path that led to a patch of dirt currently occupied by a shiny new park ranger truck. Armand pulled up next to it as Lee and I scanned the area for our collaborators, seeing only a path through the trees that led down to an expanse of shallow water.

As I stepped out of the van, the satisfying crack of my back and shoulders preceded an indulgent yawn, breath sparkling in the crisp air as I took in our surroundings. My moment of idyll was interrupted by a surprised grunt as Lee whacked his head against the top of the passenger door, stumbling with a brief moment of uncharacteristic clumsiness. I quickly realized why as he rose to his full height, which was itself a full foot taller than it had been just a few hours before. He looked down at himself in mild confusion, which transitioned to a painful wince as, with a staccato of popping sounds, the threads of his shoes failed and his feet burst through, toes and heels spilling out from both ends.

“C’mon man,” Lee said, realization dawning in my direction. “Those were size nineteen.” His look of annoyance melted into one of mild worry. “You sure you’re holding it together?” he asked, coming in to pat my shoulder but jerking back at a sharp bolt of static shock.

“Just barely,” I said.

“Looks like someone had a growth spurt!” exclaimed Blake, who seemed to emerge out of nowhere as he walked up toward us. 

“Speak for yourself,” Lee muttered, gazing down at him suspiciously. 

Blake, once again, looked noticeably bigger than we had last seen him. His ranger uniform was pushed to the limit, inflated biceps and quads straining his sleeves and shorts. I got the sense that having his shirt unbuttoned down to his nipples wasn’t just an aesthetic choice, but the result of a struggle lost against his massive pecs. His muscle butt ballooned behind him, cheeks bouncing back and forth as he unloaded gear from the truck bed.

“He is getting bigger,” came a voice way too suddenly in our vicinity.

Lee reared back with an overdramatic flourish before finally noticing Logan standing several feet away, practically swimming in a pair of oversized waders.

“How?” I asked. “Because it’s definitely not me,” and shot a defensive glance at Lee.

“I, well–” said Logan.

“Maybe he met super dick,” quipped Armand, looking overly busy organizing equipment, as if to emphasize the fact that the rest of us were just standing around.

“No, I don’t think so, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about–”

“Do you think they’re each other’s type?” Lee asked with a look of genuine interest.

“There have been some developments with–”

“Let’s not get lost in the imaginary meet cute,” I said. “We’re here on magical nonsense business. We’re in the field. We’re setting up equipment. We’re wearing field gear. Logan’s wearing…waders for some reason.”

“...with the…well they’re–”

“The only thing that fits?” offered Armand with uncharacteristic sincerity. I guess as the two local monster dick twinks, they’ve exchanged fashion tips here and there. They looked extremely roomy, yet somehow still distended from the pressure of his prodigious wang, which looked like it had gone through some aftershocks of growth after his fateful visit to my office.

“Well it’s just that we’re taking the–”

“Airboat!” I exclaimed, suddenly noticing the watercraft parked off a short pier just down the hill. “We’re taking an airboat? You drive an airboat?” I asked, with no hint of even trying to cover my surprise.

“I pilot an airboat,” Blake corrected with an upbeat smile, his tree trunk quads swelling with muscle as he walked up toward us. “The wet season keeps lasting longer and longer, so unless you wanna wade over there…”

“That why Logan’s dressed to catch a catfish by hand?” asked Lee.

“Well these are the only gear that fit,” said Logan, as if suddenly remembering he was there.

Ah ha, I thought. “So you’re driving us to that…island.”

“I’m piloting you to the island,” said Blake, not so much to me as to the stand of cypress trees in the distance, his gaze lingering for a few seconds as the rest of us relented and shifted to the task of hauling the gear down to the airboat.

As I unloaded the apparatus from the van, prepared to repeat my feat of strength from that morning, I noticed it was significantly lighter. Still heavy, I imagined, by normal human standards, but easy enough to lug down to the boat with minimal strain, earning me an appreciative whoop and generous slap on the butt from Blake. Did I somehow get stronger or was the artifact behaving in some new, strange way?

The airboat looked like one of the big tourist-carrying models that had apparently been repurposed for the parks service. The residue of the old logo of some defunct swamp tour company still visible around the parks logo and info placed on top. The name, Swamp Hag, remained the same, still legible amid the wear and rust. Most of the rows of seating along the flat bottom hull had been removed in favor of storage space, now filled with all of our stuff, leaving us cozied up in the two rows at the back.

The whine of the engine was quickly outmatched by the roar of the propeller, overbearing even through earplugs, as Blake started us up and began ferrying us to the island in the distance. We cruised over golden brown fields of late season wetland grasses, passing clumps of cattails bursting with fluffy seed heads. I glanced up to see Blake behind and above us in the pilot seat, eyes locked intently ahead towards our destination, left hand nimbly controlling the rudder stick. 

Seated in the middle, I was directly below him and positioned between his meaty quads. He always seemed to be on the verge of bursting out of his pants these days, which wasn’t helped by the massive pipe creeping slowly down his right leg, leaving dark spots of precum and even pulsing with an occasional lurch further and increase in girth. I couldn’t tell if that was just my imagination, but I wasn’t in any position to let my imagination wander, exemplified by the fact that the moon, visible in the daytime sky, seemed to keep switching between stationary object and figure-eight analemma. But with the neverending drone of the propeller, I needed a distraction, and couldn’t help but let Synt’s power slip out just a little, envisioning what might happen if that prodigious bulge–

A piercing, subsonic feedback ran through my skull as I had the distinct feeling of two of the same magnetic poles brought too close together. As the pain subsided, I glanced up again to see Blake smile down, give me a conspiratorial wink, and return to the task at hand. 

I decided to deal with that later as we pulled up to the island and began carrying things through the wall of cypress trees towards the interior. Vegetation was dense, but a winding footpath had been carved in previous visits, aided by the fact that much of the underbrush had died back. The trees seemed to whisper among themselves in some conversation that we weren’t a part of but were fine to listen in on, the low lying sounds of the forest becoming more complex until we stepped into the relative silence of a moss-covered clearing in the middle.

“This is where you found it?” asked Armand, eyes scanning the ground for any clues or disturbances. “It looks…untouched.”

“It’s where it found us,” Blake joked in a tone that wasn’t especially humorous. “And yeah, it just sort of appeared. Right there in the middle.”

Armand and Lee set to work setting up a makeshift cleanroom, moving around the perimeter of the circular clearing to lay down plexiglass panels featuring the familiar protective sigils from the lab. I opened the apparatus to remove the artifact, which practically sang in recognition, complex linework of lavender and gold forming and reforming across its surface. It felt as light as styrofoam as I lifted it and carried it across the space. As we reached the center, it simply stopped moving. In fact, as I let my hands slip away, it simply remained stationary. Just hovered in the air, rotating slowly.

“Now that’s cool,” said Blake, walking up to the artifact. “It wasn’t doing that before.” He lifted a finger and brought it up to the surface, hovering a few centimeters away. The curls, diagrams, and fractals covering the sphere seemed to converge around Blake’s fingertip in a multicolored spiral before sending a visible jolt of electricity across the short distance.

“Are you okay?” asked Logan, walking up behind him, responding to Blake’s quiet yelp.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “It felt…great, actually.” His eyes seemed lost in the patterns of the artifact as it seemed to dematerialize into a loose amalgamation of strings, a facsimile of a solid sphere, singing in complex harmonies, rising in a slow crescendo.

“Are y’all picking this up?” I asked Lee and Armand, who were just getting the monitoring equipment online.

“Picking what up?” asked Lee. 

Before we could answer, a pulse of iridescent energy shot out from the artifact, passing through us and stopping a few feet before the perimeter, forming a dome that resembled a giant soap bubble.

“Oh wow, it worked,” whispered Blake.

“What worked?” I asked, squinting my eyes at him. “What’s happening?”

“It’s a force field, they made a force field,” called Lee, motioning to the layer of shimmering air directly in front of him.

“I did not think that would work,” said Blake.

“Didn’t think what would work?” I asked with increasing suspicion.

“You gotta trust me,” said Blake, hands splayed apologetically yet his eyes showing a touch of overexcitement. “We’ve been talking about your situation and–”

“Situation? Who? You and Logan?”

“And…our cosmic deity mutual friend.”

“You’ve been talking to Synt,” I snapped. How? I thought. “Through Logan?”

“Well, they’re still connected in certain ways. I guess they were always connected or whatever?”

“Of course. Of course,” I drummed against the nook between my eyebrows.

“Synt didn’t tell you?” Blake asked.

“Didn’t tell me what?”

“About completing the ritual. We need to complete the ritual,” he said with growing intensity.

“What ritual?” My tone annoyed and mildly incredulous.

“The one we started with the artifact in your office,” offered Logan, as if explaining an email I ignored. “We opened the portal but we need to let it close behind them.”

“Oh is their presence weakening the fabric of spacetime in a localized area?” asked Armand, tapping nonchalantly on the force field like a thick pane of glass. “I guess that makes sense.”

“A little more concern would be nice. Blake’s getting pretty antsy in here,” I said.

“We’re getting you out, bud! We’re on it,” said Lee, turning to dig around in one of the totes full of equipment while Armand continued to inspect the perimeter.

“I don’t know what sweet nothings Synt has been whispering in your ears,” I said to Blake, “but I promise you they’re just fucking with all of us.”

“No, no, I think it’s about resonance,” said Blake. “We’ve only heard one chord in a cosmic symphony! We just have to let them finish.”

“Finish what–”

I was cut off as everything seemed to shift into some sort of non-space, Blake, Lee, Armand, and Logan no longer visible but the forcefield now hyperreal as a solid structure of what looked like glowing golden wires in hexagonal patterns. There was no longer the soft solidity of the mossy clearing, and the forcefield was revealed as not a dome but a sphere, surrounding me on all sides. I hovered stationary in space, rotating slowly around the smaller sphere of the artifact, which pulsed with harmonics and rhythms within and without the color spectrum, seeming to flow in tandem with the structure surrounding us. 

It absorbed my attention and I had the sinking sensation of falling perpetually towards it, plummeting through strata of timelines, tangling and untangling through interwoven threads of possibilities and fractal perception, catching small glimpses here and there of moments in space time, some that I could recall from memory and some that were wildly unfamiliar. I saw Synt talking with me at the bar and simultaneously with Logan in my class weeks before. I realized that for them, there was no linear time, and the best approximation for someone in my three-dimensional existence was cosmic terror and confusion as I fell through the complex dimensional framework of strings that they were delicately pulling. They had been building to something, I realized. Were always building to something. Are currently building to something that in this thread of spacetime is finally coming together.

I had the sensation of breathing in and zooming out, seeing a birds eye view in unnatural clarity of the wetland clearing, the artifact in the exact center spinning wildly and sending multicolored pulses of light, the surrounding trees murmuring amongst themselves, and beyond that the unseasonal expanse of placid water in a symmetrical ovoid shape that came to a point at both ends. It looked unmistakably like an eye.

With a resounding thud in my mind, I came back to this place in this timeline–or more accurately I had never left and was never there–and noticed Blake standing there wide eyed. I could taste the lust and excitement pouring off of him like a snake flicking the air. He had only gotten tastes here and there of what he could become and he was starving, unapologetically dreaming about ridiculous, indulgent size. Who was I to deny the full extent of what he could be? Why would I have ever held back this power?

I fell to my knees as another wave of Synt’s untapped chaos magic took over my being, reverberating through the space. I was dimly aware of rings of multicolored, iridescent mushrooms rising and falling in concentric waves around us. For a second I lost my physical senses, overwhelmed by Synt’s ability to see seamlessly across planes of existence and temporal strata. As my body struggled to make sense of this metaphysical tsunami, I could see the perspective of every cell ringing out simultaneously. I could see every possibility in every timeline. It was beautiful and terrible, threads waving, trailing, breaking, weaving into each other with chaos and grace. In this other sense, I felt the cleansing surge of a deluge following a dam break as my guard finally went down and Synt stepped fully into my being in this world. I had been holding them back for so long, letting go was a welcome relief.

I heard the strangely familiar sound of a string being plucked. 

Blake, ever the gentleman, snapped out of his enraptured fascination to try and help me up, jumping back as a visible bolt of electricity shot into his hand from my left bicep. I was an energetic livewire, and Blake’s eyes widened further in glee as he watched the muscles throughout his arm flex with a sickening pump, settling down as a wave of subtle growth spread throughout the rest of his body. Maybe this was due to my supercharged supernatural senses, but I noticed that his musculature was incredibly, unnaturally dense. He must’ve been somehow stronger than even the veritable wall of shredded muscle implied.

Still feeling his juicier pecs, he mused to the others, “that was just one touch. Imagine what you could do,” he added, turning to me.

“Yes,” I grunted through gritted teeth. “Imagine.” I grabbed his arm with lightning fast quickness. In fact, I don’t even remember moving my body at all. My hand was simply wrapped around his bicep because I willed it with a thought.

His head lolled back in euphoria as I poured into him. He was a willing participant, an enthusiastic receptacle of possibility powered by a vivid imagination of what his body could be and do. A deep, hungry wish that I happily granted. And then some. As he came back to his senses, his eyes took in a seemingly smaller space, his head inching farther from the ground as his massive feet took up more and more surface area. A look of worry replaced one of triumph as he realized how much he dwarfed even Lee’s eight and a half feet on the other side of the dome, with no signs of stopping. 

“Wait,” he groaned through waves of orgasmic pleasure. “Slow down. It’s…too much.” My hands had drifted to the slabs of his pecs, trailing onto his cobblestone abs as he continued to stretch and grow in all directions. He grabbed my hands with his massive paws, but the additional contact only sent a pulse of growth through his already gargantuan body, several feet of cock tearing through whatever fabric his quads and glutes hadn’t already shredded and thwacking onto the ground. 

“What’s…happening…won’t…stop,” he eked out, falling to all fours and breathing heavily as his mega dick spurted globs of precum that puddled below him. He was a larger than life behemoth of glistening, shredded muscle, except of course for the huge globes of his impossibly fat ass, which seemed to keep widening and ballooning as the rest of his growth slowed down.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off the overinflated glutes in front of me, caressing each, my otherwise huge hands dwarfed by the sheer size of them, falling into the heft of each pillowy cheek. Blake’s pride and joy, the unmissable bubble booty that could stop traffic and pull anyone at the bar, had blown up beyond comical proportions, each cheek large enough to crush the truck he drove here in. I felt my hands growing to monstrous proportions just to handle the boulders of blubber whose expansion was finally slowing to a stop as he panted in exhaustion, arching his back in insatiable need.

It all felt oddly reminiscent of the dream I had had of being eaten out by Synt while growing impossibly huge in the archives. Having just gotten a glimpse of Synt’s perception out of the bounds of linear time, I realized Of course. It was--for lack of a better concept, and from my meager three dimensional perspective--prophetic.

And we were hungry.

#male tf #ass growth #dick growth

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

... Didn't Emerald and Mercury basically murder that bookstore owner in vol2? Your most recent post reminded me of that. Like, I didn't imagine that, right?

You did not imagine it they did murder him in cold blood. What makes it worse is Cinder explicitly told them to keep their hands clean while in Vale and went out of their way to hunt him down with the intent to kill him. They did not plan on it to go any other way then with his death for the crime of trying to walk away from the White Fang, you know something Blake did and was allowed to leave. So she is a confirmed remorseless murderer.

For me the whole thing feels extra gross because Blake was once apart of the White Fang and ran away. While she was allowed to escape and live….Tukson was not. Despite this the narrative seems disinclined to allow Emerald to feel any remorse about this action or to even remember it happened period. Which seems to be a theme of the writing, if a bad person is redeemed their past atrocities seem to get swept under the rug, if a good person is made evil any good they ever did gets rewritten to pretend they where always bad. No nuance or morally gray, no empathy or understanding. It’s only Team RW//BY or their enemies.

#rwde #RWBY critical

[lanterns-and-daydreams]

Grayson Hawthorne

So a lot of people ask me a similar question when i tell them that my favourite The Inheritance Games character is Grayson: They ask me "why?".

Hes relatable. And not in the way that some girl just comes up and takes all my inheritance, no. Despite Nash being the oldest, Grayson is perceived as the brother who acts like an eldest brother or a guardian. You cant tell me hes not constantly worried about Jameson or Xander getting hurt. He cares, but he doesnt know how to show it. Everyone holds too many expectations of him, and he feels like the world is on his shoulders.

As much as i hate Eve, i dont blame him for wanting her to be Avery. It was what he thought was the best way to get away from all his problems. He just doesnt know how to cope. In the end, he cared about Avery, despite all the mistakes he has made. Like i said, he doesnt know how to deal with his own problems, so as a way to apologise to Avery, he went and traded his own life for Alisa's in the whole Vincent Blake thing.

A lot of people misunderstand his character. I mean, just put yourself in his shoes. Imagine, you were raised to inherit billions, and that thought manifested itself so deeply into your head that you think that without this, youre nothing. And then some random girl just comes outta nowhere, and not only does take away what you thought made you you. But also plays a part in resurfacing all your trauma. The trauma part isnt just for Grayson, but for Jameson too. Because just imagine watching someone die in front of your eyes, and then blaming yourself for it.

He wanted Eve to be Avery. Because he just wanted to be loved properly, and didnt know how to ask for it. Emily manipulated both of the boys, and Grayson didnt want Eve to be like that. He mightve suspected her of having ulterior motives, but he was probably in denial.

And i am 100% goddamn sure Gray and Jamie were best friends, despite how much either of them would deny it. Now imagine, the same girl who shattered your entire world (without knowing that) also takes away your best friend (unintentionally but still) and theres nothing you can do about it. Because im sure Jamie didnt spend any time with Gray while playing the "game" with Avery.

Listen, i want you to re-read the books. But re read them while considering what you just read on this post. You dont have to if you dont want to. You dont have to if you think this post is bs. But if you do, consider Gray too. I love Jameson and Xander. And Nash too. But some of yall dont understand Gray at all.

And why i like him so much is because i know what all that feels like (except the murder and inheritance part lol) and Gray's character hit hella deep.

#He hit right in the feels #I get so sad when people misunderstand his character #He probably once got scared because of a toaster and jumped like a whole 6 feet in the air #Jamie probably recorded it #Xander posted it on the group chat and gray didn't come out of his room for like a week #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #the inheritance games #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #Libby grambs #Fuck off drake #Books #Final gambit #Hawthorne legacy #The brother's Hawthorne #Avery grambs #AveryJameson #Fuck off Skye #the brothers hawthorne #the grandest game

[comparativetarot]

Woman of Music. Art by Ed Buryn, from The William Blake Tarot of the Creative Imagination.

(Water of Fire — Matter of Passion) This card is from a design to Gray's poem, "The Progress of Poesy," illustrating the lines: Awake, Æolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take: The laughing flowers, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Mt. Helicon's anciently famous springs of Aganippe and Hippocrene (hippo=horse + krene=spring, because unearthed by the winged horse Pegasus), are the home of the Greek muses and thus the birthplace of music and poetry. Their waters inspired whoever drank them, and the fragrant flowers surrounding them were reputed to deprive snakes of their venom. Helicon was named after the goddess Helice, a virgin form of Hecate (see II—Mystery) whose name means 'willow' in Greek, for willows were planted by streams and their wands used for divination. This Grecian muse is Helice, and like her namesake willow, she merges with the stream — right foot forward to indicate her spiritual qualities. The 'trembling strings' of her lyre (from Æolus, the wind-god) are the song of the wind in her branches. The humanized flowers along the rills of the stream all drink and toast the inspirational waters, a metaphor for Gray's "rich stream of music." The muse or Woman of Music is here associated with fire (in the border), air (the Æolian wind), water (the springs), and with earth (the living flowers). She is the Enchantress who channels and integrates energy, thoughts, feelings, and spirit. Her "living music" is "loud" and clear. Compare this card image with the Queen of Cups in the traditional Tarot. This is the part of yourself or another who listens to the inner chords for life's ecstatic moments. You seek pleasure and tranquility, are naturally graceful and gentle, and enjoy all the senses. This person excels at 'diffuse consciousness' — an instinct for taking everything in without focusing on anything in particular. She may be very psychic, and easily reflects other people's feelings and projections. In the face of harsh realities, she may escape into solitude, addictions, or anodynes. Loving life, she is likely to vigorously laugh with joy, or unashamedly wail with sorrow. In the creative process, this is when you vibrate in tune with everything around you, sensitively aware of life energy in all its forms, from which you create something new through the filter of your own consciousness. KEYWORDS: EMOTIONAL DEPTH • FLOWING PSYCHIC SKILLS • SOURCE OF INSPIRATION TO OTHERS • ENCHANTING PERSONAL MANNER • MULTIPLE AFFINITIES AND TALENTS •

#Ed Buryn #The William Blake Tarot of the Creative Imagination #Queen of Cups #Queen #Cups #Tarot #William Blake

[snowdrop-ivy]

Masterlist

Disclaimer: I mostly write fluff and angst. I'm still new here so I'm still learning how to write smut but my suggestion box is open if you have any requests. Thank you!

Chris Evans and Characters

Ari Levinson:

Favor:

Ari Levinson was an ego embodied in a man. Yep, he's an asshole. Y/N knows it yet she still married him. How? She doesn't know. And now, she doesn't know how to get him to sign the divorce papers.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Sebastian Stan and Characters

Bucky Barnes:

SERIES:

Danger:

A story between heaven and earth; hot and cold. Ana, a British settler, found her match in the rowdy streets of New York.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

ONE-SHOTS:

A letter to Zemo:

Anna Stark is the adopted daughter of Tony Stark so obviously, she's on Team Iron Man. Following them on the battle of Cap and Iron Man, she saw Zemo sitting so she decided to have a little talk.

SWAY BOYS

Blake Gray

SERIES:

Life With U:

Gabriella tackles life, heartbreak, friendship, being a social media influencer, and falling for that hunk named, Blake Gray.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Jeremy Allen White

SERIES:

Chasing the Clouds: A Journey Back to The Beef:

Mikey left the restaurant to Carmen, Natalie, and you.

Part 1

Part 2

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #chris evans au #chris evans x reader #ari levinson x f!reader #ari levinson au #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #sebastian stan x you #blake gray imagines #blake gray #blake gray au #blake gray x reader #sway boys fanfic #sway boys au #sway boys imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fanfiction

[1000-year-old-virgin]

200 Best Songs of 2023

Janine - If I Call *FAVE SONG OF THE YEAR*

Kim Petras - Brrr

Sam Smith, Koffee, Jessie Reyez - Gimme

ILIRA - Work of Art

Joseph - Nervous System

Mariah the Scientist ft. 21 Savage - 77 degrees

PinkPantheress & Ice Spice – Boy's a liar Pt. 2

Ryan Destiny - Lie Like That

Latto ft. LU KALA - Lottery

Chrissy Chlapecka - I'm So Hot

Ashnikko - Don't Look at It

serpentwithfeet - Gonna Go

Don Toliver ft. Lil Durk & GloRilla- Leave The Club

Don Toliver ft. James Blake - Let Her Go

Miley Cyrus - Flowers

Miley Cyrus - River

Meghan Trainor - Mother

Ice Spice & Nicki Minaj - Princess Diana (Remix)

Melanie Martinez - DEATH

Natalie Jane - Seeing You With Other Girls

Amelia Moore feat. jxdn - FUMD

Ashnikko - You Make Me Sick!

Flo Milli ft. Lola Brooke & Maiya The Don - Conceited (Remix)

Flo Milli ft. Monaleo & Gloss Up - Bed Time (Remix)

Astrid S - Come First

Ashnikko - Want It All

salem ilese - PainHub

Libianca ft. Ayra Starr & Omah Lay - People (Remix)

Labrinth ft. Billie Eilish - Never Felt So Alone

Katie Belle - The Best You'll Ever Have

Emilie Nicolas - Everyday

Donna Missal - Flicker

Donna Missal - Out of Me

Donna Missal - Move Me

Donna Missal - God Complex

Donna Missal - I Saw God

LØLØ ft. girlfriends- 5,6,7,8

Jackson Wang & Ciara - Slow

Troye Sivan - Can't Go Back, Baby

Baby Tate & Saweetie - Hey, Mickey! (Remix)

Shania Twain - Number One

Shania Twain - Got It Good

Empress Of ft. Rina Sawayama - Kiss Me

NLE Choppa ft. SexyyRed / Sukihana - Slut Me Out (Remix)

Maggie Lindemann, Siiickbrain - deprecating

Ed Sheeran - The Hills of Aberfeldy

Rita Ora ft. Fatboy Slim Praising You (Fatboy Slim Remix)

Tyla & Ayra Starr - Girl Next Door

Kesha - Only Love Can Save Us Now

Ciara ft. Lola Brooke & Lady London - Da Girls (Girls Mix)

Jeremy Zucker - OK

CXLOE - Flight Risk

Josh Levi - See Low

Josh Levi - BIRTHDAY DANCE

Alex Vaughn & Summer Walker - So Be It (Remix)

Alex Vaughn & Ari Lennox - Demon Time (Remix)

Taylor Swift ft. Ice Spice - Karma (Remix)

Taylor Swift ft. Lana Del Rey - Snow On The Beach (More Lana Del Rey Edit)

Boris The Lucid - BOYFRIEND

Carrie Underwood - Take Me Out

Libianca - Jah

Conan Gray - Never Ending Song

The Aces - Always Get This Way

Madison Beer ft. Timbaland - Home To Another One (Remix)

Äyanna - Girlfriend

Nicki Minaj & Ice Spice ft. Aqua – Barbie World

Rita Ora - That Girl

Rita Ora - Unfeel It

Tanerelle - Feel Good Inc. X Sidetracked (Perfect Lover Mash Up)

Sleater-Kinney - Hell

Saweetie ft. YG & Tyga - BIRTHDAY

Mae Stephens ft. Meghan Trainor - Mr Right

Brooke Candy - FMUATW

Ben Kessler - When I Hate Myself

Eliott ft. Vancouver Sleep Clinic - Happy On My Own

Reneé Rapp - Pretty Girls

Leah Kate - Bored

Chappell Roan - HOT TO GO!

Rina Sawayama ft. Amaarae - Imagining

GAYLE - Leave Me For Dead

Selena Gomez - Single Soon

Äyanna - Change Your Life

Julia Wolf - Wishbone

Cloudy June - Devil Is A Woman

Anne-Marie ft. Shania Twain - UNHEALTHY

Leaf ft. Bandmanrill, DJ Drewski - 2 Freaky

Olivia O'Brien - I should've fucked your brother

SIIICKBRAIN - Psychopath

Adekunle Gold - Do You Mind?

Duncan Laurence - I Do

Dizzy - Open Up Wide

Leigh-Anne ft. Ayra Starr - My Love

Troye Sivan – Got Me Started

Cate - Girlfriend

NERIAH - Falling 4 Somebody

Cardi B ft. Megan Thee Stallion - Bongos

Amelia Moore - Over My Ex

Johnny Orlando - Boyfriend

Tyla - Water

Tems - Me & U

Mette - Mama's Eyes

Wrabel - Beautiful Day

Chxrry22 - MORE

Norah Jones - Can You Believe

Kanii ft. Trippie Redd - sins (let me in) [Remix]

Niall Horan & Lizzy McAlpine - You Could Start A Cult (Encore Version)

Travis Scott ft. Beyoncé - DELRESTO (ECHOES)

Addison Rae ft. Charli XCX - 2 Die 4

Gyakie - Rent Free

Kim Petras - Hit It From The Back

Kim Petras ft. Banks - Bait

Kim Petras - Dirty Things

K. Michelle - Blame Yourself

Sunnitharapper ft. Salma Slims - Moody

Troye Sivan - One of Your Girls

Lady London ft. Jeremih - Do Something

Zara Larsson, David Guetta - On My Love

cassö, RAYE, D-Block Europe - Prada

Serpentwithfeet- Damn Gloves

Dove Cameron - Still

Kenya Grace - Paris

Dua Lipa - Houdini

Tokischa ft. Sexyy Red - Daddy

Zach Seabaugh - Helium Balloons

COBRAH - 10/10

COBRAH - BAD POSITION

COBRAH - TEQUILA

Clinton Kane - PANIC ATTACK

Megan Thee Stallion - Cobra

Nick Wilson - For You It Was Him

Nick Wilson - Way Back

Ice Spice - Deli

Enchanting - Needy

SZA - Kill Bill

Kylie Minogue - Padam Padam

Summer Walker - Girls Need Love (Girls Mix) ft. Tyla / Victoria Monet / Tink

Tate McRae - exes

Tove Lo - I like u

Kim Petras - Je T'Adore

Doechii - Booty Drop

Kim Petras - Claws

Sam Smith & Madonna - VULGAR

Kim Petras - uhoh

Borgore x Cupcakke x Chase Icon - Abracadabra

Clinton Kane - DISAPPEAR

Nicki Minaj - Big Difference

Nicki Minaj - Pink Friday Girls

Charli XCX ft. Sam Smith - In The City

Reneé Rapp ft. Megan Thee Stallion - Not My Fault

Flo Milli - Never Lose Me

Kim Petras - Thousand Pieces

Kim Petras - Minute

Charli XCX - Speed Drive (jamesjamesjames Remix)

Chrissy Chlapecka - BRAT

The Last Dinner Party - My Lady of Mercy

Shania Twain - Waking Up Dreaming

Nicki Minaj - Fallin 4 U

Jessie Ware ft. Pabllo Vittar -Pearls (Brabo Remix)

Shania Twain - Queen Of Me

Chiké, Oxlade - Spell [Remix]

Anycia - REFUND

Lah Pat ft. Flo Milli - Rodeo (Remix)

Biig Piig - This Is What They Meant

Niall Horan - Save My Life

Bronze Avery - Sex In The Room

Ava Max - Cold As Ice

Peach PRC - F U Goodbye

Suzanne Sheer - Off Limits

Nicki Minaj - FTCU

Madison Rose - Girls Girls Girls

Kaliii ft. GloRilla - Can't Get 'Em

BIA - FALLBACK

Miley Cyrus - Jaded

Kylie Minogue - You Still Get Me High

Miley Cyrus - Violet Chemistry

Miley Cyrus ft. Sia - Muddy Feet

Bebe Rexha - Visions (Don't Go)

Coi Leray - My Body

Coi Leray ft. Saucy Santana - Spend It

Maiya The Don - Luv U Better

The Last Dinner Party - Nothing Matters

IDK ft. Jucee Froot & Saucy Santana - Pinot Noir

Tinashe - Uh Huh

Nicki Minaj - Beep Beep

Nicki Minaj - Pink Birthday

Duckwrth - Big Bewts

Nicki Minaj - My Life

Trippie Redd & BANKS - Saint Michael Myers

Tamera - Frozen

Shygirl & CoSha - Thicc

Ari Lennox - Get Close

Flo Milli - Fruit Loop

Mette - For The People

Amaarae - Angels in Tibet

Jamila Woods ft. Saba - Practice

Rachel Chinouriri - Maybe I’m Lonely

Jonah Kagen - Save My Soul

The OMG Girlz - Lover Boy

Karin Ann - A Stranger With My Face

Victoria Monet - Alright

2022's List

#ashnikko #rita ora #donna missal #charli xcx #troye sivan #taylor swift #nicki minaj #kim petras #ice spice #2023 #music #flo milli #beyonce #dua lipa #miley cyrus #meghan trainor #shania twain #summer walker #doechii #cobrah #serpentwithfeet #dove cameron #janine #clinton kane #megan thee stallion #saweetie #travis scott #madonna #tove lo #tate mccrae

[waheelawhisperer]

Every so often, I hear people say that Adam Taurus was wasted potential, and I am of two minds about this. While I certainly don't think he needed to be the morally gray revolutionary certain segments of the fandom insist that he was before the evil writers ruined him, I do think he (or, perhaps more accurately, the White Fang plotline as a whole) represents a missed opportunity - namely, he has no connection to Weiss whatsoever.

The conflict between the White Fang and the Schnee family/SDC is central to Weiss and Blake's dynamic in the early Volumes. They first fall out when Weiss reveals her racist attitudes at the end of Volume 1. During this story arc, we learn through Blake how the rest of the world (and Weiss's family/family company in particular) treat the Faunus, why Blake felt violence was the only solution left to her if she wanted to obtain equality, and we learn the effects that violence had on Weiss - the White Fang killed people she knew on a personal level, and her father took his frustrations out on her family. The end of Volume 1 establishes Weiss as an important component of the White Fang storyline and establishes the White Fang as an important part of Weiss's personal narrative.

Other parts of the early Volumes support this: Blake's first interaction with Weiss is dunking on her family company, Lieutenant Banesaw expresses pleasure at the thought of killing a Schnee, Roman Torchwick riles up a crowd, Weiss's big goal is to redeem her family name, etc. and we get more evidence in Volumes 4 and 5, where we see what Jacques is like in person and learn that Ilia lost her parents in a mining accident. All of this is setting up Weiss to be important to the resolution of the White Fang plotline, and yet she never really feels connected to it after Volume 3 at the absolute latest. She gets over her racism with minimal struggle, no one ever bothers mentioning it again (because that plot is done and it's on to the Next Cool Thing), and she and Blake eventually become comfortable enough with each other that Blake casually roasts her.

The reason (or one of the reasons, at least) Weiss feels so disconnected from the White Fang plotline is because Adam is the primary representative of the White Fang we see on screen, and Adam does not give a shit about the White Fang except as an instrument of his own will and power and vengeance, a tool which he can wield to make the world hurt the way it hurt him, something he can use to repay real and imagined slights tenfold.

I always find it funny when people say that making him abusive and self-centered violates his established characterization when:

A) He'd been on screen for like 5 minutes at that point and didn't have much characterization to contradict to begin with.

B) His literal first appearance involves him expressing his willingness to harm innocent people who were just doing their jobs (unless you think everyone who works for a crappy company is complicit in that company's misdeeds, but we see no indication that the workers on the train were doing anything more morally reprehensible than earning a paycheck).

C) His next appearance involves him showing up after one of Cinder's operations cost some of his subordinates their lives and got others arrested, showing no concern for any of them, and confirming that he'll ensure any dissidents fall in line.

D) The only scene that could potentially support the interpretation of Adam as someone that actually cares about Faunus rights takes place when he can't afford to lose face in front of his men. Considering everything else he does during his time as part of the story, it seems pretty clear that he's just posturing in order to maintain the loyalty of his troops.

The Adam his fans want to exist was probably real at one point, sometime long, long ago. He probably did care at one point, given that he was apparently willing to follow Ghira's lead until Sienna encouraged him to employ violence more readily, he started receiving accolades for his ability to kill people, and his newfound standing in a White Fang that was turning more openly to violence in general went to his head, but that Adam was long gone by the time he started playing a major role in the story. By the time Adam mattered to the narrative, everything was about him, not the cause.

On the one hand, making it so that Adam never interacts with Weiss is an interesting way to demonstrate how small and petty and selfish he is, how everything in his life is about how it affects him personally. He doesn't go after Weiss because she's less important to him than Blake and Yang, who (he thinks) hurt him more recently and threaten his power. The Schnees don't matter to him the way they do to his subordinates, even though he has an SDC brand on his face, because all Adam wants to do is hurt someone, anyone, the way the world hurt him. He's happy to attack the Huntsman Academies despite those not exactly being the fountains of injustice that plague the world of Remnant because they happen to be convenient targets that his allies are giving him the power to destroy. He's lashing out at whoever and whatever he can. Weiss doesn't matter. The SDC doesn't matter. Equality doesn't matter. Salem's targets or the consequences of attacking them don't matter. All that matters is Blake, who defied his power over her and made him feel weak. He targets her parents and maims Yang to hurt her. She's his priority even when he's in control of the White Fang. Even Yang only matters to him because she represents a threat to his control over, his ownership of, Blake. Ultimately, it's not even about Blake, it's about Adam's need to be powerful and in control.

On the other hand, Weiss is inextricably intertwined with the White Fang storyline and Adam is its primary representative, which means those narrative threads should've gone somewhere. The closest Weiss ever gets to confronting her family's complicity in the oppression the Faunus labor under is her conflict with Blake. She doesn't get a meaningful confrontation with any member of the White Fang besides a background character who mostly existed to give her someone to lose a fight to and her own teammate, who had already left the organization. The other side of that storyline, her connection to the SDC, fizzles out when her mother hands her the evidence she needs to get her father arrested with minimal effort and Ambrosius casts Meteor using Atlas as the projectile.

This is one of many reasons I hate the way they killed Sienna Khan off the way they did. If she'd survived, if Adam's faction had been a splinter group in truth, we could've positioned Sienna as the member of the White Fang with the conflict with Weiss and Adam as a more personal antagonist for Yang and Blake. We could've had Weiss express the frustration Sienna's White Fang caused her and given Sienna the chance to air her very legitimate grievances with the Schnee family, call Weiss a spoiled child, and all the other good stuff that comes with their ideological conflict. Give Weiss a real good look at who her family's hurt, let her come to terms with the damage Jacques caused to people outside her immediate circle, make her desire to redeem her family name mean something by showing her exactly what the world thinks of it. Hell, let her talk to Ilia. They had the chance for that, she was literally right there at the start of Volume 6, but I'm pretty sure by that point they were trying to close off the White Fang plotline as quickly as possible. I'm pretty sure the writers have never really been comfortable writing the fantasy racism storyline, which is a shame because I think it could've been really good if they'd knuckled down, done their research, and really engaged with it. Unfortunately, they didn't, and we switched gears to Salem on top of that and everything else kind of fell by the wayside.

Do I think RWBY could've told a good story if Adam really had been the morally gray revolutionary, the badass antihero, that certain people seem to think he either was or should've been? Honestly, yeah, it's not like that character archetype hasn't proven successful before, and edgy weeby characters can absolutely work, but also, like, I don't think RWBY needed to go that route, nor do I think it would have been significantly better if it had. Can't say I'm super thrilled about the decision to give Adam a brand on his face and then just... never really engage with that or acknowledge that literally being marked like livestock suddenly made him a lot more sympathetic and had implications for the worldbuilding, but overall I'm pretty fine with how they handled him.

In conclusion, goatman a bitch.

#rwby #analysis #adam taurus #sienna khan #ilia amitola #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #ghira belladonna #kali belladonna #jacques schnee

[quordleona03]

Fic Writer 2023 Review

I got this from @jaelijn, who generously tagged me - 30 questions about my fic writing through this year.

I hope for a better 2024 for all of us.

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

I wrote the first three chapters - well, I can hardly say "wrote" - of a fandom fusion - Blake's 7 scripts with MAS*H characters replacing them. To find them funny - even to know what's going on - you would have to be simultaneously a B7 fan and a MASH fan. Judging by the response on AO3, I would say there are about four such. Maybe less. I probably won't finish it - though anything's possible - and I doubt very much if I'll do anything like that again. The problem was that it was not very creative, but even so, it took up a fair amongt of time.

2. How many fics did you work on this year? (They don’t have to be finished or published!)

I wrote about 211,000 words of All We Know - pretty steadily through the year. I was writing the September 1962 section last January, and I'm writing the April 1963 section now. I'm publishing chronologically, so the section I'm working on now will be posted in April 2024 - after being proofread, edited, beta-read, edited, and so on.

I also completed three MASH stories - Crabapple Cove, Major Heart, Under the Apple Tree, and one Star Trek story, Kirk and Spock's First Kiss. M*A*S*H works in progress include Rosary, Nurse Doctor, MirrorMASH, and another strange crossover, Buffy the Vampire Slayer And Her Gay Foster Dads.

And there's Gray-Eyes, which is something else again.

3. What’s something you learned about yourself as a writer?

All We Know is easily the longest story I've ever written. I found that I can hold a story that length inside of my head and my heart, and keep writing it - and be confident I'll finish it. I found, too, that I do a lot of my writing inside my head before I sit down and stare at the screen. This last I always knew, I suppose, but now I really know it.

4. What piece of media inspired you the most?

Well, M*A*S*H, of course. Some lovely soul managed to upload All The MASH Episodes to the Internet Archive in such a way that they went unnoticed for over a year. (They are now gone- helpful people on the very public Mash subreddit started posting links to them, and whaddya know, once declared publicly, they're gone.)

I also watched some few episodes of E.R., most of the first episode of AfterMASH, a couple of episodes of Trapper John M.D., a specific episode of Sports Night, and I read Herman Wouk's Marjorie Morningstar and Kathy Hulme's The Nun's Story, among other relevant material.

5. What fandom(s) did you write for this year?

M*A*S*H. Star Trek. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Blake's 7, a little.

6. What ship(s) captured your heart?

Hawkeye/Mulcahy. Over, and over, and over again. Also, because they're so very sweet together, Sam Pak/Sidney Freedman.

7. What character(s) captured your heart?

Well, besides Francis Mulcahy and Hawkeye Pierce, 2023 was the year I got to like Trapper very much indeed, as I wrote him in October and in December. I saw a very old fanvid, Trapper Never Got To Say Goodbye, and watched a bunch of good Trapper episodes, and - I just got to like him. I also invented/discovered in my heart several newly adorable people: Sam Colquhoun and his daughter Barbara, Martine LeClerc, Pauline Morley and her partner Thea Schwartz and their friend Nadine Royer, Loretta Bradford, Doctor Jerome White and Doctor Aaron Elharar, Sarah Pargeter Pierce and her 12-year-old daughter Mary, Sister Maria Angelica and Sister Raymond, and of course Cathryn Jamieson.

8. Did you write for a new fandom or ship this year?

No. Well, yes: I gave Margaret Houlihan the best possible husband I could imagine for her. I like Sam Colquhoun.

9. What fic meant the most to you to write?

At the time? Gray-Eyes. Ongoing through the whole year: All We Know.

10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

Crabapple Cove. I got the idea and wrote it and giggled most of my way through writing it.

11. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

Well, besides Gray-Eyes, I only finished four stories this year, plus some bits of tumblrfic: Crabapple Cove, Major Heart, Under the Apple Tree, and Kirk and Spock's First Kiss. They were all very satisfying to finish.

12. What fic was the most difficult to write? Did you finish it?

MirrorMASH. I have got to a point in that story where I know how it ends, and yet I am really struggling to write that ending - because when it's done, I shall never write MirrorHawkeye again.

But there was an idea for a story I thought of - "AfterMASH, only like the Golden Girls, Max and Charles and Francis sharing a house…" - and Honoria of course - and I wrote the opener for it, and then realised that I didn't see a way to write any more of it. I could see it in my mind's eye as an endlessly enjoyable TV series - but to write another word of it felt like climbing up the Cliffs of Insanity with Fezzik on my back and Inigo on his shoulders. It was like contemplating a land war in Asia. I just gave up.

13. What fic was the easiest to write?

Kirk and Spock's First Kiss. I wrote it at a writer's workshop at an online K/S con, and the story just unpacked itself into dialogue.

14. What were your shortest and longest fics this year?

Kirk and Spock's First Kiss is the shortest - a perfect drabble of 100 words. All We Know is the longest - 261,000 words in the current document, 143,314 words published on AO3.

15. Rec a fic you wrote or posted in 2023

I'm very pleased with M*A*S*H goes to Pride - thinking through what each of our surviving friends from MASH 4077th would do at the world's first Pride March in New York City in 1970, and whether I think they are LGBT or ally or neither.

16. What were you go-to writing songs?

I was writing the first draft of Christmas in Maine (just posted on Christmas Day) in the middle of a really, really hot August (for Scotland), and I played a list of Christmas carols over and over. I was then writing a chapter from Sister Maria Angelica's point of view and I made a playlist of Christian religious music. Otherwise, usually Leonard Cohen, Janis Ian, Willie Nelson, Tracy Chapman, Johnny Cash, k. d. lang, and so on.

17. What were your go-to writing snacks?

Cashew nuts.

18. What was the hardest fic to title?

Well - All We Know. I'd been calling it "Virtues and Sins" til May, til I realised that if I was going to post the opening chapter in two months time, I really, really had to think of a proper title.

19. Share your favorite opening line

""What do you pray for?" Hawkeye asks: not every time, but often. And when he doesn't ask, he looks: he stares at Mulcahy's rosary sometimes as if he hated it."

20. Share your favorite ending line

"First and foremost: Francis J. P. Mulcahy, formerly chaplain 4077th MASH: without you, this book would not have been written, and without you, I would not have been here to tell it."

21. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

"Doctor Pierce - debauched him?" "It does seem unlikely, doesn't it?" Charles said. "But then whatever else Pierce lacked, it was not persistence or audacity. Good God, did he know the Irishman could write like this? How?"

22. Share an excerpt from your favorite scene

After a moment, Mulcahy laughed. He sounded more tired than amused. "All right," he said. "Should I move this chair?" He got up. Hawkeye caught him by the arm as he was about the pick up his own chair. "Let me." he said. "I know just where it has to be." He moved the chair around, where the light from the central lamp would be falling at the right angle on Mulcahy's head, and waved Mulcahy to sit down again. All Hawkeye had time for, that morning, was to check that there was no indication of a concussion, and no broken bones. He meant to give Mulcahy a haircut, but he wanted to check his scalp for cuts or bruises. "And what can I do for you, sir? Pompadour, bouffant, some stylish Victory rolls?" Hawkeye was gently combing Mulcahy's hair out with his fingers. "Perhaps a little scalp massage?"

23. Share the final version of a sentence or paragraph you struggled with. What about it was challenging? Are you happy with how it turned out?

Winchester folded his hands in front of him. He looked calmer. He also looked pompous, and embarrassed. "It appears I owe you an apology." "Thank you," Mulcahy said, after a moment's effort. "I didn't intend to say anything to upset you. I'm sorry. Is Hawkeye all right?"

It may not look very difficult, but the whole passage of Charles Emerson Winchester and Francis Mulcahy talking in Charles's study in December (in All We Know) was hugely difficult and very painful to rewrite and rewrite and rewrite. I was so hugely on Francis's side that I was having difficulty seeing Charles's side. I am very happy with how it eventually turned out. Jakrar is a wonderful person to work through a story with.

24. What’s something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

While writing the final September section of All We Know, back in February, I realised something about Charles Emerson Winchester's son, Charles Emerson Winchester Jr, that I genuinely had not realised previously, and while it didn't change the story much, it did affect it. (Our Charles's father and grandfather are dead at the time All We Know opens, so CEW III has lost his ordinal number and his son CEW is Junior.)

25. What did you use to write? (e.g. writing programs, paper & pen, etc.)

I use LibreOffice on a Windows 10 desktop. I can and do write on my laptop if I have to, but my favourite place to write is at my desk in the little room with the window that looks out only on the sky, facing the wall. I take notes on Notepad.

26. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

"Please don't worry," Mulcahy said. "We can find our own way out."

(You will find out why, next year.)

27. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

No.

28. How did you recharge between fics?

What is this "between fics" you speak of?

29. If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

I would thank my demonic proofreader Jakrar, who is enabling me to keep writing this story in the best demonic style, Ajay, who has been my closest fannish friend for getting on for forty years, and @rescue-ram whose fabulous pro-Trapper comments (and fic) make me very, very happy. Also, for ideas presented to me in 2022 and 2023 that I stole without conscience and used ruthlessly in my own words in 2023: FaustianSlip for Not A Second Time, @allcanonisrelative for Every time, I think of you, @yeats-infection for What the Thunder Said, and also Crystalrose and @topshelf2112-blog for their very different but quite illuminating takes on Charles Emerson Winchester in particular and his relationship with Hawkeye Pierce, which was not something I'd thought much about before I started planning All We Know.

30. What’s something that you want to write in 2024?

I want to finish All We Know and Rosary and Nurse Doctor and MirrorMASH and I would quite like to write a few more episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer's gay foster dads. And I look forward to getting more ideas for something new.

Posted at 31:12:23:23:12:31.

#my fic #i am writing #mash tv #star trek #buffy the vampire slayer #blake's 7 #but mostly all we know #All We Know #review of 2023 #happy new year #wishing all of us many stories finished and read

[topperscumslut]

Disaster (Nicky Harper x Reader) (Fluff)

Summary: Just a bunch of wholesome fluff cuz I don’t really feel comfortable writing smut for Nicky even if I age him up (reading it however… anyway). I already felt like I was thin ice with my aged up Five Hargreeves smut. Especially since Nicky only got to about 13/14 years old on the show so that’s how old he is in all the gifs I could use of him (unless I were just using a current photo of Aidan but I digress) (Aidan’s only two months younger than me irl so don’t cancel me plz). I imagine the reader and the quads to be about 19 in this fic cuz I personally am about to turn 19 but you can choose whatever age you like. This is a song fic of Conan Gray’s Disaster cuz I’m honestly still a little fried from last night writing this and woke up with Disaster stuck in my head and I’m kinda totally in love with Nicky/Aidan/Five again lol and thought this would be the perfect song for a kinda cute/a little awkward childhood friends to lovers fic. anyway enjoy sorry for my high ramblings

Warnings: lots of fluff, emetophobia (mentions of throwing up at a party)

Word count: 2.8k

Let me just set the scene

You had been friends with the Harper quads for as long as you could remember - or at least close to it. You’d met them when you were about 10 and had just moved to Boulder, Colorado with your family. Now nearly a decade later you were best friends with the four of them, and Tom and Anne almost saw you as a fifth child (well, sixth if you count Squishy Paws). You loved telling people about how you first met. It all started when you first came into Get Sporty with your family and saw four kids around your age. Dicky had immediately tried to hit on you, Dawn was excited because there was finally another girl in town, and Ricky was thrilled to meet another intellectual since you were in nearly all of his advanced classes with him. But Nicky? Nicky just liked you for you. You loved the quads and would never admit it to their faces, but you did have a bit of a soft spot for Nicky. There had been other guys here and there, but you’d kind of had a crush on Nicky on and off since you’d first met him - and right now it was full on.

I just left the party at Blake’s and it’s Halloween

It had taken Nicky long enough, but finally when you were both 16 he realized he felt the same way. He had sort of caught on that you had some sort of feelings for him, but Nicky had never really been with a girl before and didn’t really know what to do or how he felt. You, the quads, and Mae were all at a Halloween party of one of your classmate’s. You had tried to convince the quads to dress up as the Spice Girls with you, but that hadn’t exactly went well. Instead, you, Dawn, and Mae had went as the Powerpuff Girls - you as Blossom, Dawn as Bubbles, and Mae as Buttercup - Ricky had gone as Nikola Tesla, Dicky had gone as Elvis, and you’d helped Nicky come up with the very fitting idea of dressing up as Linguine from Ratatouille (with Squishy as his Remy, of course).

It was supposed to be an incredible night, but things started to go south before you ever could have expected it - and that’s saying something for the Harper quads. You were starting to feel a little gross not even an hour in, and started projectile barfing with Dawn holding back your hair only a few moments later. What do you know, Derek Moses had spiked the punch. Though the same couldn’t be said about you in the present day, 16 year old you had never drank before, and it was hitting you pretty hard. All of your friends were extremely worried about you, especially the quads.

“Look, guys, I’m the oldest, and I drove. I’ll take (Y/N) home and make sure she’s okay, you guys keep having fun.” Dawn had said.

“No, I will,” Ricky had argued. “Y/N needs someone responsible to take care of her right now.”

“No, I can take her!” Dicky had piped up, “I don’t have anything smart to say… I just wanna be a good friend.”

“None of you guys are taking (Y/N),” Nicky had finally added. “Ricky, the magician will be here any minute, I don’t want you to miss that.”

“Isn’t the magician just Blake’s stoner cousin?”

“Not relevant. Dawn, you shouldn’t have to leave Mae all alone! And Dicky, that girl over there is all over you, man! You guys stay here and I’ll take (Y/N) home, okay? I’m the only one who hasn’t had any punch and (Y/N) needs a safe, sober designated driver.” He smirked. “Plus, I’m her favorite.”

“Bullshit!”

“Hey, it’s only bullshit if it’s not true. Anyway, I have a (Y/N) to take home. I’ll be back soon, you guys.”

The potential of us, it was keeping me up all night long

What happened next you only ever heard of through the grapevine from the other quads, all of them laughing their asses off about it. Nicky was way too shy to ever bring it up again. Apparently you had - drunk off your shit - totally came onto Nicky on the ride home.

“God, what did Moses put in that shit? You’re wasted, bubs,” Nicky said, not taking his eyes off of the road but using his hand to gently rub your knee.

“Noooo, I mean it, Nicks! I want youuuu.”

He looked over at you as he pulled into the driveway, giggling slightly at your goofy demeanor and cute face. Even though you pretended you didn’t, you only remembered one thing from that night - what he said next.

“I would totally fucking kiss you if you weren’t drunk right now.”

This could be a disaster, there’s so many factors

Surely he thought you would forget. Surely Nicky didn’t actually mean it… did he?

You had stumbled out of the car, Nicky opening your door for you and helping you out. “But Nicky… this is your house, not mine.”

“Damn right it is. I’m not going back to the party. I’m staying here with you all night and helping you get to sleep. I’m gonna make sure you’re safe, okay?”

Like what if you freak out and then we’re losing it all?

Nicky had set you up in his bed with at least a dozen pillows and blankets and was now playing video games on his phone across the room, assuming you were already asleep.

“Hey Nicks?”

“Yeah bubba?”

“I’m uh… I’m sorry if I weirded you out tonight. I was drunk as fuck.”

“S’alright. Sobering up already?”

“Yeah, a little I guess.”

“Good. Get some rest, (Y/N). I’m here if you need anything.”

You woke up with your mascara and red lipstick smeared all over his nice pillows, but Nicky didn’t care. He was just happy you were okay and had even gone as far as to make you breakfast that morning, which his three siblings relentlessly teased him for. Nicky wasn’t sure what it was about that night. Maybe it was your cute Blossom costume, maybe it was the way he was able to protect you, maybe it was how flirty you had been with him (and how unexpectedly hot that had been), or maybe it was just because you were his best friend and you two had always been there for each other. He didn’t know, but ever since that night, Nicky started falling - hard. He just couldn’t help worrying himself sick that maybe you didn’t feel the same way. I mean, you were pretty drunk when you said all those things.

It’s the critical chapter where I say I love you and you don’t say it after

This could be a disaster

What Nicky didn’t know is that years later, you still hadn’t stopped thinking about him and that night. And what he’d said when he thought you weren’t paying attention…

“I would totally fucking kiss you if you weren’t drunk right now.”

The words were still playing in your head clear as day even after all this time. It still didn’t feel real and part of you couldn’t help but wonder if it was just wishful thinking, if you’d just made it up because of how drunk you were. Nicky Harper had wanted to kiss you.

But what if he didn’t? What if you were just remembering it wrong, hearing what you wanted to hear?

I’m a little bit plastered

You call me a liar, now I’m falling faster

Of course, with your inebriated state Nicky didn’t believe a word you said. What he didn’t realize was that you weren’t just spewing bullshit because you were drunk, you were just saying everything you were too scared to say sober.

You tried not to get drunk or high in front of Nicky after that point. For starters, it wasn’t really his thing and you respected that. But most of all you were worried you would let your guard down around him again and tell him everything you’d been trying to hide.

This could be a disaster

Those next couple years after the party flew by with stolen glances and the quads teasing Nicky whenever you were around. Before you knew it, you and your friends were already out of high school and that party from back when you were 16 felt like ages ago.

Tonight you were staying over at Mae’s house, just the two of you. You, Mae, and Dawn had girls’ nights all together often, but Dawn was on a college visit out of state, so it was just you and Mae alone.

You had hinted at your crush on Nicky to Mae a couple times but had never straight up told her. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Mae, you just didn’t want to put her under the pressure of keeping this secret from Dawn. And you definitely didn’t want Dawn to know - the last thing you wanted was a little crush ruining your friendship with your best friend.

Let me just lose my mind

Is it purely platonic to call me like every night?

You and Mae were in the middle of watching Mean Girls when you got a FaceTime notification. You paused the movie and jumped up to pick up your phone.

“Who the hell is calling this late?” Mae asked.

You blushed a bit. “It’s Nicky. He calls me every night since that one Halloween party to make sure I’m doing okay. It’s actually really sweet…”

“Oh, okay!” Mae smirked knowingly, “well tell Nicky I say hi, I’m gonna run downstairs and get more popcorn.”

You answered your phone as Mae raced down the stairs, locking eyes with Nicky’s pretty green ones.

“Hey Nicky!”

“Hey (Y/N)! How’s it going?”

“Going good. I’m just staying the night at Mae’s tonight. Hey, have you heard from Dawn?”

Nicky nodded. “Yeah, a bit. She said it’s a pretty good campus over there. She misses you, though. We all do.” He blushed a little.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you haven’t been here for a couple days since Dawn’s been gone and now we’re out of school so we aren’t seeing each other everyday. Ricky, Dicky, and I have been at each other’s throats without any female influence around.” You both chuckled. “I mean it though. I should’ve asked you sooner, now I’m wishing you had come over here tonight.”

You shook your head. “Look I’d love to Nicks, but my parents know Dawn’s out of town. They’d never let me have a sleepover with boys.”

Nicky shrugged. “I mean hey, we’re here every other time you sleep over with Dawn.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s kinda stupid,” you sighed, “they’re weird like that. I mean even the night after that party junior year on Halloween I still kinda bullshitted them and said I had stayed in Dawn’s room. They would have flipped shit if I’d told them I’d slept in your bed and would totally think there was something going on between us.”

Nicky laughed a little, “I mean they wouldn’t have been entirely wrong about that night, huh?”

You were now a stuttering and blushing mess, not sure what to say back as Mae entered the room with a popcorn bucket bigger than her head.

“You like yours buttered, right? Oh, hey Nicky!”

“Hey Mae!” Nicky said, waving. “Well, I don’t wanna distract from your girls’ night. You ladies have a good one, okay?”

“Will do,” you mused, “goodnight, Nicky.”

“Night, (Y/N).”

You hung up and turned to Mae, who was looking at you with a curious grin.

“Sooooo?” she teased in a sing song voice.

“So, what? C’mon, let’s watch this bus get Regina’s ass!”

Mae grabbed the remote out of your hand before you were able to unpause the movie. “Not so fast. What’s going on between you and Nicky?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Are you guys a thing? Are you guys not a thing?”

You rolled your eyes. “Mae, we’re just friends.”

“Just friends that call each other every night?”

You shrugged. “It’s nothing. He’s just being nice. I mean, it’s Nicky. You know what a sweetheart he is. It’s just what friends do.”

“And yet none of the other quads do that.”

“Well shit.”

Mae laughed. “(Y/N), everyone knows you and Nicky like each other. We’ve just been staying out of it because it’s not really our place, yknow?”

You chuckled. “Great. Everyone knows but us?”

“Well… yeah,” she sighed. “You should make a move! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could lose my childhood best friend?”

“Look, (Y/N), he totally likes you! I say you go for it before we all go off to college one day and it’s too late.”

“You’re right. But it’s probably better off said in person.”

You pulled out your phone and texted Nicky.

(Y/N): hey Nicks… can we hang out tomorrow? i have something to tell you

Nicky: of course! you can tell me anything :) see ya then

“And… send.”

And if you’re reading the text all night long

Nicky could hardly sleep that night after getting your text, talking with his brothers about what it could possibly mean.

“She’s obviously into you, dude,” Dicky said, “I mean, isn’t it obvious?”

“Yeah, even I see it,” Ricky agreed.

“And he can’t even remember the last time he talked to a girl besides Dawn, Mom, (Y/N), or Mae.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ricky rolled his eyes.

“Well am I wrong?”

“No Dicky we get it, you aren’t wrong!”

Nicky sighed. “I don’t care who’s right or who’s wrong. I’m just worried (Y/N) is going to say I’ve been coming on too strong and that she doesn’t want to be friends anymore…”

“She’s not gonna say that, man,” Dicky said, “she cares about you too much. It’s been years, you need to go for it! And if Dawn were here she’d say the same.”

“You’re right.” Nicky replied. “I’m gonna make my move when I see (Y/N) tomorrow.”

This could be a disaster

A day later, you and Nicky were sitting together on his bed, both nervous as hell.

“So… you had something you wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah.”

There’s so many factors

“Is everything okay, (Y/N)? You seem nervous.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… not sure how to say this.”

Like what if you freak out and then we’re losing it all?

“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what best friends are for.”

“I know… that’s what I’m worried about. Losing my best friend.”

It’s the critical chapter where I say I love you

“Oh. I see…”

And you don’t say it after

Faces close, bodies shaking in unison with nerves you finally spoke up. “Well… I’m not drunk right now.”

This could be a disaster

It took Nicky a second to realize what you were talking about, but then it hit him. “Y-you heard me say that, didn’t you?” You nodded “Are you saying I can? I mean- you mean- you want me to?”

You nodded as Nicky gently took your face in his hand and kissed you slowly. His lips were soft, and your head went a little fuzzy from euphoria as he carefully pulled you closer into him.

He pulled away, still holding you. “You should stay the night tonight. Tell your parents Mae will be here, I don’t know, whatever it takes. I just want you here with me.”

You smiled, arms around his shoulders, and nuzzled into his chest. “That works for me.”

#nicky ricky dicky & dawn #nicky harper #fluff #nickelodeon #ricky harper #dicky harper #dawn harper #nicky harper x reader #nicky harper fluff #aidan gallagher #conan gray #superache #disaster #disaster by conan gray

[grandhotelabyss]

Rearranging my bookshelves at the moment in chronological order. One thing I noticed is that after Austen... English literature kinda fizzled out. At least until the early 1890s when a whole pile of writers emerge all at once (Wilde, Yeats, Shaw, Stevenson, Conrad, Doyle, Hardy, H. G. Welles, and more; and almost immediately they're followed by a tidal wave of modernists). Whereas for seventy years, aside from the three big poets you're covering plus Alice In Wonderland, it's just Dickens, Eliot, and the Brontes!

Now, admittedly the 'just' is doing some heavy lifting — but so are those novelists, in carrying Shakespeare's language over a seventy-ish year period! And in terms of variety, they feel like both a less *diverse* ('sprawling 18C three-deckers' describes accurately, if dismissively, most of those novels) and, more controversially, a less *fruitful* crop than the bursting quarter-century from Blake's first illuminated manuscripts to Austen's death.

Now you did discuss the 'cultural studies' aspect of the Victorian era, which was very enlightening — but at the same time, Russian, French, and American literature each undergo what are almost certainly their greatest periods! Which makes sense to me considering the *imaginative* ferment I'd expect to be cause by the political and industrial revolutions of the entire period... like, those three countries didn't reduce to cultural studies!

So, three questions: 1) Who am I missing over that stretch from Austen's death to, let's say, Dorian Gray? 2) Do you think this reading is correct, or am I weighting things wrongly, either being too dismissive of the writers named, or giving too much credit to the writers at either end of the century? 3) What, if you can answer something so broad, was different in France, America and Russia?

(Sorry to set you a three-part essay question on a Wednesday night lmao, really I'm just fishing for any interesting thoughts you might have)

If I were to dispute your claim, I would do so in two ways: 1. I'd say that Dickens is so enormous, so much the iconic and canonical English novelist, the one who stands next to Shakespeare, that he carries the whole period; and 2. I'd say (and have already said in The Invisible College) that the Victorian Sage writers like Carlyle, Ruskin, and Arnold have the weight and intensity of the prior Romantic poets and subsequent modernists.

If someone else were to dispute your claim, someone else might say that there are a lot of great novelists in the mid-Victorian period, like Trollope, Thackeray, Mrs. Gaskell, and Wilkie Collins. Someone else might say this, but I could never get interested in those writers, and I doubt anyone thinks they're the equal of Balzac, Melville, or Tolstoy—or of Dickens. On the other hand, we now take the Brontës far more seriously than people once did—I would put them essentially on the same level as Austen and Dickens—so fashions in these things are always changing.

So I essentially agree with you that, except for the writers you name, especially Dickens and Eliot, it's a fairly flat period. I suspect the reasons are the ones the modernists would have offered, despite their sometimes exaggerated animus against the Victorians: the sentimentalism, the censoriousness, the middle-class piety, the imperial self-regard, the padded serials, and all the rest of it.

I've quoted on here before Seamus Deane's slightly offensive view of the matter in his Celtic Revivals, coming from Marxist postcolonial theory (and as I've also said before, this is particularly unfair to George Eliot, who, I must emphasize, translated Spinoza):

It is, I believe, easier to understand Joyce’s achievement in this respect by looking to the Continental tradition of the novel. There the theme of intellectual vocation was much more deeply rooted and was treated with a subtlety quite foreign to the evangelical, female puritan spirit which so dominated the sentimental English novel. Perhaps Middlemarch more than any other single work shows how the innate provincialism of the English novel deprived it of a consciousness of itself as a part of a greater European culture. This is something conspicuously present in the French and, even more, in the Russian novel of the nineteenth century. One could not imagine Crime and Punishment or Le Rouge et le Noir without the idea of Europe, especially Christian Europe, as a living force in them, in their traditions, and in the minds of their creators. But Emma and Great Expectations and Middlemarch survive happily, and more modestly, apart from that idea. Not until an American, Henry James, arrived on the scene was the novel in English Europeanized, and the Irishman Joyce countered this achievement by anglicizing the European novel.

So that "puritan" and "provincial" spirit explains the disparity between the English on the one hand and the Russians and French on the other, who were simply writing in different social circumstances for an audience presumed to contain fewer young ladies in need of moral protection. One might add the English empirical bias against big ideas, which authors as different as Blake and Eliot would so strongly protest.

In Love and Death in the American Novel, Leslie Fiedler says the European novelists held together an audience that consisted of common readers, mostly female, on the one hand, and highbrow intellectuals, mostly male, on the other. The Anglo novelist, by contrast, somehow let this audience fragment early on and had to address either one set of readers or the other.

The American case is particularly instructive: Hawthorne and Melville were neglected in their time, relegated to the margin by popular novels written in "the evangelical, female puritan spirit," of which Uncle Tom's Cabin is the most famous—but we just don't read these books! We read The Scarlet Letter and Moby-Dick instead of The Lamplighter or The Wide, Wide World. It's as if the English Victorian canon had been reduced to Sartor Resartus and Wuthering Heights. This causes the historicist critic to despair, and obviously a certain type of feminist critic too, who especially resents Hawthorne's line about "the damned mob of scribbling women," but what we can we do? We're interested in what we're interested in. And as I said in one of the IC episodes, it's not as if the great female writers of the 20th century wanted to follow in Stowe's footsteps either, since the puritan and provincial spirit was a much a prison for female authors in the 19th century as it was their place (their only permissible place) of articulation.

#english literature #american literature #charles dickens #victorian literature