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#one of the many edits I have in my drafts but this is quite good
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NaNoWriMo Day 7 — Entry 1
Word goal for today: 11,667
Word written: 421
Current total: 11,922
Progress: 23.8% ◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
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boiohboii · 9 months
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Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)
Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic
When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life
or
in which we finally get to see the roles reversed
N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it
masterlist
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Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others
itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!
Comments on this post have been disabled.
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Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others
F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.
username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH
username: yn doing God's work
username: yn serving justice
username: that's what we needed
username: hot girl shit
username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her
username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles
username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?
username: another one
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Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others
itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy
username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?
username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice
username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song
itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚
username: and I oop-
username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!
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Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others
itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️
username: FINALLY!!
username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose
username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️
itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.
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Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others
F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.
username: good for her
username: charles is so lucky
username: I love how she always stands up for him
username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.
username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.
username: this shit was so heartbreaking man
username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim
username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it
username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒
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badassindistress · 10 months
Note
do you perhaps have a pattern for that gentleman's corset? asking for a friend
Hi!
Unfortunately, I do not have a pattern to give you, but I do have a way for you/your friend to draft your own.
(If you really do just want a ready pattern, I'm pretty sure my #binding stays or #flattening stays tags include some etsy shops that have binders with corsetry methods)
I'm presuming you are here because that 5 year old post of the binder with elizabethan stays method is going around again (left). I've also since made a pair of stays that flatten nicely as well (right).
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The left pattern was drafted with the free Custom Corset Pattern Generator from elizabethancostume.net. You just input a little extra breathing room in the waist and the bust measurement you can comfortably squish your chest down to.
However, that was many years ago and I have since had more success using a Mariah Pattie's circular drafting technique. It has so much less measuring and math and it gave me a better fit.
Here's my post on that technique, along with her video.
And here's my post amending that to a binder instead of stays.
In short, all you need is:
a large piece of paper
a string
a pen
a measuring tape and
the measurement of your waist circumference
the measurement of your chest bound down circumference
the measurement of the vertical distance between your waist and chest.
You draw out the pattern following the video + my explanation post (this takes me about 30 minutes vs the hour or two for drafting the usual way). Then I make it longer with a cm or two at the bottom and at least 3 cm on top. One change I've made since that post was to pinch out a little dart at the arms to make it lie smoother under clothes. One day I'm going to experiment with adding straps to this design, but today is not that day.
I kept mine quite low, because I wanted a 18th century round chested look, but with straps and longer stays you could probably go flatter (depending on how much you have to flatten of course).
This is what it looks like under a waistcoat tailored according to a menswear manual:
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i'll also drop here the posts of other people who've I've talked about their binders using corsetry and tailoring methods: horsehair canvas summer binder, there's another one about how convenient ribbons are for easy adjustment but i can't find it (EDIT: found it!)
Good luck and do let me know if you've advanced this research any further!
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berry-potchy · 10 months
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I went through my drafts and found this. I typed this during a moment of weakness for cliche chick flicks and fuckboy Miguel:
This is not edited and messy but I just wanted to share that I'm thinking about a very typical and silly high school coming of age romance setting with the popular broody bad boy x wallflower good girl except that Miguel is already so down bad for (obsessed with) good girl who btw is chubby and cute.
What's on my mind rn is kid Miguel and kid reader were childhood best friends/sweethearts. You were neighbors and your families were close. One day, for some reason you had to move away. This was maybe when you and Miguel were like 7. You were inconsolable during moving day and Miguel's poor little heart broke at the sight. He confessed to you then and asked you to be his girlfriend and you said yes and you kissed him on the cheek and you guys hugged until your parents had to pry you off each other so you can leave. Your parents felt really bad that they had to separate you from your best friend and what they thought was pretend boyfriend but the move was a canon event.
You weren't able to keep in touch, you weren't able to make many friends in your new place either. Like you had friends but they kinda have their own separate friend groups that you're not a part of. You were kinda just there, mourning your loneliness. Growing up you always had that ugly feeling of missing out and the "what if I didn't move back then?" in the back of your head. But one day, you're already like what? Last year in high school? You get a notif on your IG that a Miguel liked a photo you posted from a few months prior (it's a rare photo of you wearing something that shows off of your curves and feeling it). It's odd. You've posted a lot more photos since then. You check the profile and it's your Miguel... but he grew up HOT. Tall, wide, jacked, but it's the same Miguel with the pretty brown eyes and dark loose curls that he now styles slicked back. You follow him thinking he won't notice because of all the pretty girls who comment on his pics but never get replied to. But he followed you back immediately and sent you a 'hey' on DM. You didn't know what to say at all so you just stared at it until he replied ':/' followed by 'see you soon. you better have something to say to me by then.'
Later that day your parents drop the bomb that you're moving back to your childhood home. Next to Miguel.
Not to get into too much plot I just really wanna think about Miguel welcoming back his girlfriend and wanting to make up for lost time which gets you super flustered by his advances and shamelessness. You can't quite tell if he's just teasing you about the girlfriend part but the flirting definitely feels for real.
Your parents telling you to keep the door open when he goes up your room to hang out and you get embarrassed, stuttering that you're not planning on doing anything sexual. Miguel however shrugs and goes "I wouldn't trust me in a room with you either. I would eat you up"
And during lunch at school you cant find a seat, you try to look for Miguel but the scary popular kids are flocking around him. He looks like he's so bored but perks up when he sees you walk by and grabs your wrist to make you sit with them. Some random girl mockingly goes "oh sorry there's no space for you here" and you feel humiliated. Miguel shuts her up with a glare and makes you sit on his lap. No one dares to speak up as he tries to feed you with the snacks from his tray. He's squeezing your thighs enjoying the feel of you on his lap while he goes "I remember you liking this (insert snack or boxed drink here) so I got you an extra one, chula"
There's really nothing else to this I just thought it was cute and had to share.
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shirefantasies · 3 months
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Can I request a How Many Kids They Want for the characters from The Hobbit? I’m curious to hear what you think!
Heck yeah! I already made a placeholder for it in my drafts cuz I had to let’s GOOOO! Last post pre-surgery, crazy that we’re only 3 days out 🥲
How Many Kids Do They Want? The Hobbit Edition
Balin
Certainly not a future he ever expected, but it’s not such a bad one, is it? How big his family is is a question Balin wouldn’t mind deferring to his partner, especially as he would never be the one bearing them! But probably not more than three if he was really pressed for an answer.
Dwalin
Girl dad. I said what I said. Secretly wants to settle down and adores the idea of domestic life, especially with a sweetheart of a partner who he can take care of. This transfers to his children, who Dwalin is the fiercest papa bear to! No one will touch a single hair upon his daughters’ heads. I can see him having two or three little girls, very unusual for a dwarf and a bit unexpected to him, who would have said he wanted sons. The moment he has to pull a knife out of his little girl’s hand, though, the very same one that held a doll on the other side, Dwalin realizes what he wants has nothing to do with boys. Raises the toughest girls this side of the mountains!
Thorin
Does not mind the idea of a small family, more time and love to give each member as king. Thorin is fiercely loyal and dedicated, so he wants to shower his partner and child(ren) with as much as he possibly can. Thus he would prefer only one or two children. While he hopes for a son to continue on the line of Durin, growing up with a sister gave him a soft spot and respect for femininity, too. A boy and a girl sounds perfect to him, Thorin’s little prince and princess. He would have such a hard time not softening his harsh ways and one hundred percent spoiling them, but the last thing he wants is to raise spoiled royalty with no humility!
Oin
Oin is so the type of father to have a big family and brag about them all the time! Five or six children. He’s the default carer when they get sick, being so good at treating any ailment or pain that they run to him upon feeling any sort of ill. Not picky about if he has boys or girls, ending up with two girls and three or four boys. All of them are welcome to become his apprentices and several even grew up playing ‘doctor’ for years beforehand! Literally Oin could be handling someone halfway to bleeding out and he’s still standing there staunching it saying how he has the best kids ever.
Gloin
The proudest father and family man in general! Cannot wait to have a family of his own and absolutely wants a son to be his mini-me. Has a special bond with his son as we all know. Gloin is happy to even have one child, but could be persuaded to go up to two or three. Would raise the toughest, shrewdest daughter as he shows her the ropes of getting out of uncomfortable situations and having the confidence to stand up for whatever she wants!
Bifur
A family is a future he never grew up expecting being a manual laborer and warrior. Parts of him weren’t even sure how long he’d live unless he got tough, which of course he did! One son sounds good to him, someone to pass on stories of battle and his ancestors to and shape as a fighter, though he also hopes if he has a family they would not be so forced to see war.
Bofur
Envies his brother’s family a bit, not that he wants quite so many! Bofur would be happy with two or three or four. He loves the idea of having a little girl, especially if she’s a tiny version of his partner, he would just melt at the sight of her. Total, though, he’s down for three or four, multiple but still small enough to feel cozy! Absolutely the type of father who lets his daughter dance with her feet on his and teases the kids whenever he can! Makes little hats for his sons so they can match.
Bombur
Going by the fanon/actor canon here as always, a lot. He’s so good with wee ones and just adores them, so he is down for as many as he’ll be allowed, even up to thirteen or fourteen! Because of this, he naturally wants several of both boys and girls, especially because girls are rarer among his people. So playful with them and a master of getting down to their level as a naturally lighthearted and whimsical person. He loves when the little ones help him cook or bake even if it gets messy!
Dori
The most caring father ever, forever doting on his children and making them feel loved, even if it’s a little much! His perfect number is two, one of each if he’s lucky but he’d be happy with two of the same, too. Dori grew up caring for both of his brothers for enough years, after all, but he also has the sneaking suspicion that with dwarven culture, his love for the finer things would be more likely passed on to daughters! Likes the idea of teaching skills like sewing or jewelry-making to whoever his offspring are.
Nori
Kind of suspects if he had a child, it might not be legitimate, but in the end he takes the plunge of settling down, feeling the urge as he ages to keep his bloodline on. One or two is enough for him, though, sons if he can help it, which being a dwarf he practically can! Realizes carrying a wee bairn around has a charm that lets him get away with even more than usual, and as they age teaches his little boys how to play games and even to cheat a little.
Ori
Softer, more caring than his middle brother, someone who fantasized about having a family if someone would have him. His vision is of four children, two of each. So patient with all the buzzing questions and curiosities of their young minds. All of them, boys or girls, will have the most enriching environments full of art and writing, being raised with culture over getting taught to fight. Since self-expression is encouraged, though, you can bet it’s a loud home!
Fili
Even beyond the weight of cultural expectations, Fili wants to experience being a father. Doesn’t have as strong a desire for a son as most kings and princes do, honoring his mother and what a great queen she would make. In fact, he loves the idea of raising a future queen more than king in some ways. She would be strong, resilient, free to be herself and not fall to the shadows beneath anyone if Fili has his way. He definitely wants more than one, though, and in fact ends up with twins, too! Identical twin sons he encourages both to train and explore as well as to mess with everyone by lying about which twin they are.
Kili
This dwarf loves his mother and is just dying to show his children the love he got and respect his partner especially if she’s the mother of his children! The idea of a family makes him happy like nothing else, for despite all his flirting and seeming like he wants to have fun he really wants to settle down with the love of his life. He wants at least one of each, loving different things about having a son and daughter. The kind of father who would play dress-up with his daughter and spar with her just as much as his son! All in all, he’s pretty open on numbers, but he wants at least two and the ideal range in his mind is around three to five.
Bilbo
Didn’t think he wanted children for a long time, but Bilbo is definitely the sort to change his mind if he meets the right person. Still would prefer a smaller family of one or two children, though, as more would be overwhelming to him and he wants to keep his home in order! Boy or girl, his kids would learn so many skills ranging from folding handkerchiefs to cartography. No strong preference from Bilbo on what he wants, per se, he more just hopes to have things in common with them and be able to bond.
Thranduil
Torn between his desire for an heir and not exactly paternal ways, Thranduil really only wants one child. All his attention can be focused that way, too, because at his heart he does know that duty makes it hard to be as involved as he could be with family and it would not be fair to have a massive family he can’t spend time with. Likes the idea of a son, again considering an heir, but a little girl would have the woodland king absolutely wrapped around her finger and get every pretty little thing she wants.
Bard
Pretty obvious on this one, but he would want three! Not so picky on having sons or daughters, especially when his legacy already has pressure upon it. In truth he’s the sort who wants ‘the full experience’ and says he’d want to try for one of each. Teaches all of his little family valuable skills, wishing them the best chance in life. They’ll learn to heal, defend themselves even if it’s not fighting, simply keeping safe.
Beorn
Intimidated as he is by the prospect of having children in a world that was so cruel to his people, his papa bear instincts run deep through his veins. I can see him having twins or even triplets, like a little litter all his own. I see triplets, two boys and a girl. Beorn cannot help the way his often harsh expression softens at his little ones, the hopeful smile that creeps onto his face at the thought of continuing the Skin Changers’ legacy through his sons and daughters, his name-bearers and the one who will choose her own.
Taglist: @kilibaggins @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart | Message/Reply to join 🥰
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tojifile · 11 months
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Kibutsuji Muzan: Succubus Survival
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Hush.. just one more..
Genre: Romance // Muzan x succubus!reader
⚠️: Heavy suggestive and sexual references, kinky reader, immoral, not fully consensual, DO NOT BIND THE CHARACTERS TO REAL LIFE MORALS THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION
A/N: I'm so frustrated rn, this is like the 3rd draft I've had because it would suddenly post and answer privately ??? It was so annoying, so now I'm editing this on a private post. I love the request so much and thank you for requesting it but I will not be writing anything until I get my new device, I hope there'd be less mishaps there.
REQ: @cursetopia
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Each night, in the houses of young noblemen—loud cries echoed through the corners of their rooms. You loved seeing tears fall down their cheeks as pain turned into pleasure until they couldn't tell the difference.
"Good boy.. just one more and you'll be free." You whispered in his ear cunningly. You were on top of him, freely guiding his body as you moved yours. His yogi was messily hanging from his body while your kimono fought to stay on your shoulders.
You used your blood demon art: Pearls of Restraint, which stuck to their name. They restrained his movement and ability to speak as you moved your hips in a quick and steady pace, chasing your own high as you ignored his pleas.
After a while you finally got more than a taste of your release. He immediately passed out from exhaustion. You fixed his yogi gently and put the covers over his body.
You stood up and fixed your kimono. You stood near the headrest and hovered your hand over his head, you made a motion, as if you were tugging on air. You pulled out a pearl from his head.
The pearl held his memories, you took the pearl and added it to your necklace—he was just one of the many men you've seduced into a soul-sucking night, literally.
You left his room through the window. You hid in the night sky, running swiftly yet quietly through the roofs to avoid getting caught. You ran to your room, in the most exclusive house in all of the entertainment district.
You disguised yourself as an oiran by day to avoid suspicion and to keep living amongst the male noblemen of Japan living in Kyoto, who—in your opinion looked better than the others.
Once you reached your room you were met with a calm glare, given by Muzan. "Darling~ you're finally back, come here." He spoke with calmly with a faint smile on his face as he patted his lap, insinuating that you should sit on him which you happily obliged to.
He stroked your hair gently, propping his chin on the top of your head as he held you tightly with his unoccupied hand as you sat on his lap. "Now then, let me ask you a question darling." He spoke, you hummed in response to let him know you were listening.
"What exactly do you want to achieve with sleeping with different men each night?" He asked, you took a moment to think of an answer but then realized he could read your mind so might as well just say what comes to mind.
You held your face as you kept an innocent smile on your face, "Survival, their souls and energy, if you're asking for practicality, my lord. Although if you meant to ask about my sexual desires, I love to see their reactions, it's quite.. adorable." You spoke happily as you looked up at him. It seemed like even the thought of their reactions turned you on.
Muzan found your answer amusing, he chuckled and continued to stroke your hair gently. "Adorable.." he whispered as he softly kissed the top of your head.
"Won't you be a good girl and show your lord this 'energy' you speak so highly of?" He spoke suggestively, he put you down in between his legs, "Go on my dear, I'm sure you have enough energy now." He held your cheek as he spoke, leaning down to you, offering you a soft kiss.
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Spontaneous post: 07/09/23 23:34PM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time
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gollancz · 1 year
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Why I'm Not Allowed On Twitter Unsupervised Any More: A Photo Essay
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Key Notes:
Since this was posted I discovered that the books had briefly been available in the UK under the name Peter Beagle rather than Peter S. Beagle in the mid-90s, which is why they didn't show up on the British Library search
The article by Tor.com @torbooks: Peter S. Beagle Has Finally Regained the Rights to His Body of Work
If you want our gorgeous limited edition, I believe there are still a handful left (except for the US and Canada, sorry lads), and you can get it here. I'm not kidding when I say I got a little teary-eyed when these showed up.
[Image Description: A tweet thread from the Gollancz twitter dated 20th July 2022, which goes as follows -
Tweet 1: You may have seen that we're printing a Brand New Edition of The Last Unicorn. We're very excited! I was asked to tweet about it. I wasn't asked to do it quite like this, but I also wasn't asked NOT to do it like this, and I have the twitter login so whose fault is that? (Thread emoji, and gif from the film Scream reading 'The Call is coming from inside the house!')
Tweet 2: Imagine, if you will, you are a small child in the UK during the late 80s/early 90s. You might look a bit like this, or you might have had parents who didn't choose suffering (ask my mum about The Saga of the Hat) (an image of a small girl approximately 3 years old wearing a blue dress and a big white hat)
Tweet 3: Imagine you have a cool older cousin, one who, as you get age, introduces you to fantasy films like Ladyhawk and The Princess Bride and has a post the whole family knows as 'the vampire and the naked lady'. She's extremely responsible for the way you turn out as an adult.
Tweet 4: One year, for your birthday, this cousin buys you a video. It's the first video that is yours, not to share. It has a bright yellow cover. The butterfly scares you. But you watch it on a loop. You don't realise how special it is, but it's a seed that burrows into your brain. (An image of a VHS of The Last Unicorn)
Tweet 5: A decade or so later, in your teens, you rediscover it. None of your friends have heard of it, despite also being fantasy-inclined. That's odd, you think. Is this an outlandishly weird title? Then you get older and you realise: no, it isn't. (Principal Skinner meme reading 'Am I out of touch? No, it's the people who don't know about The Last Unicorn who are wrong')
Tweet 6: Time and tech march on, you get a DVD of the film. You realise it's got Christopher Lee in it! And Angela Lansbury! Your mum tries to get you to listen to songs by America other than the soundtrack, but the only one that really sticks is the other one they did about a horse. (Gif of Walter White from Breaking Bad singing along to Horse With No Name)
Tweet 7: You realise that the film is based on a book. Like The Princess Bride, which you've also read (after spending longer than you're proud of trying to find an unabridged edition). 'Neat,' you think, 'I'll have to read that!'
Tweet 8: And then you can't find it. Because, as mentioned previously, you're in the UK. The Last Unicorn was published for the first time in 1968. But, if you look at the British Library's National Bibliography (super neat resource btw), that was, uh, about it. (screenshot of the search results from the National Bibliography showing four editions of The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle, one from Gollancz in 2022, one from IDW in 2019, one from Tachyon Publications in 2018, and one from Bodley Head in 1968)
Tweet 9: The Tachyon edition is the unfinished first draft of the story. The IDW edition is a gorgeous graphic novel. But in terms of the novel? I don't know how many reprints it had (if anyone knows, I'd love to find out), but there's a good chance it went out of print in the 70s.
Tweet 10: The film, however, was released in 1982. Although it didn't make it to the UK until 1986. Conservative estimates could put that between 10 and 15 years since the book was last available in the UK. This gives you a generation in the UK who only know the story through the film! (A screenshot of the IMDB page showing the different release dates for The Last Unicorn around the world)
Tweet 11: The screenplay was written by Peter S. Beagle, and made by the legendary animation directors Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass. That's right, the guys behind Thundercats and 2 out of the 3 films based on The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.
Tweet 12: The Book has been in print in the USA (and possibly all of North America) constantly since its publication, so it seems baffling that people in the UK haven't heard of it. As the internet became more prominent, however, it became easier to just... import a copy of the book.
Tweet 13: But! This also isn't quite as simple as you think. You see, until last year the rights to The Last Unicorn were tied up in legal limbo. And the US edition of the book contained changes that Peter wasn't happy with. (Link to the Tor.com article about the rights)
Tweet 14: Back to you, the 80s/90s kid, who is now an adult, happy that unicorns are A Thing again and you're living your best life. You're very easy to buy presents for. Your partner despairs of unicorns. You get a job working in books about magic and space. (unicorn emoji and photograph of a collection of unicorn memorabilia, including three different versions of The Last Unicorn)
Tweet 15: You mention that one day you would like to publish The Last Unicorn. That if you did, you would like to do a really beautiful edition of it. And you would like it to be purple. Because since the film is what you know, you associate it with purple.
Tweet 16: And, after taking a very circuitous route, here we are! This is the original text, that was first published in 1968. Reading it after you have only seen the film is the strangest experience - like being introduced to a very dear friend that you have never met before.
Tweet 17: Peter's screenplay kept the voice of the story so well, you can hear the characters when you read the book. But now there's so much more depth, softness and warmth to it. The butterfly doesn't seem so scary any more. And, it's beautiful. And it's purple. (Image of a hardback edition of The Last Unicorn, with a black base, purple background, and a linocut image of the unicorn in her wood. On the black cover underneath is a foiled unicorn with the moon and butterfly, the page edges are sprayed purple, and the endpapers are black with silver butterflies)
Tweet 18: Anyway, I've taken you on a three day trip that could have been done in a single tweet, but that's what happens when you let me drive. This edition is the limited exclusive one only available through the Gollancz Emporium and you can preorder here: (link to Gollancz Emporium)
Tweet 19: But there is also a standard edition available through all booksellers! You'll be getting the author's preferred text, with an introduction from Patrick Rothfuss. There's also a brand new audiobook and it will be available in eBook for the first time ever.
Tweet 20: It's like going from famine to feast, and I wasn't able to talk about this for months so now I am able to talk about it, I'm going to make the social media team cry. UNICORNS. SPECIAL EDITION. PURPLE. The End.
Tweet 21: Additional behind the scenes bonus detail - I did take this cover to the art meaning while wearing a unicorn onesie.
Tweet 22: The comms team wrestling me away from the twitter account: (gif of Ross from Friends shouting 'Stop typing! Stop typing!')
End ID]
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nosnexus · 3 months
Text
As promised, some of the changes I made with composition of the last piece (when I remembered to capture it)
First draft was the kids tumbling through the air chaotically in various poses. Riz running to his extracurricular activities, Kristen hunched over , etc (Gorgug, Fig, and Adaine managed to keep their initial poses with some tweaks). The Stress crystals were going to be tumbling through the air with them.
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I ended up scraping the composition just because it didn’t quite have a good flow with some of the poses I chose. And I mean, look, Gorgug is like kneeing Kristen in the head, Fig is kneeing Fabian in the armpit, Riz looks like he's gonna be kicking Fig in the elbow - it's a hot mess, people.
Then, originally, I had the wheel the kids were on as a roulette wheel of sorts, that was going to be backlit with the various downtime activity icons (I adjusted one or two to be more applicable to the kids' activities). And the middle area had a constellation of Cassandra that was positioned behind Kristen's head like a halo - I played around with cracking the wheel with the red crystal light and having it distort the picture of Cassandra too.
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I really liked the roulette vibe, but it ended up making the piece too busy with too many contrasting colors and really took away from the characters. I had the idea of a cork-board/dartboard given to me by my partner and the brown + teal + red crystal glow looked VERY nice, so I rolled with that!
Bonus alt compositions and initial sketch from the Party Politicking piece! I was originally really wanting a hard forced perspective and was going to include Cassandra and YES! on the ground in the empty space surrounding Kristen. After staring at it for too long I felt it was a bit too cluttered and I could convey the tone well enough with Kristen's expression and with color, so those (dope) extraneous details weren't needed.
That being said, I still like composition of the shadow of the shrimp jump cast over Kristen.
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Thanks for joining on a very chaotic glimpse into my process! If there's one thing I've learned with these covers it's: EDITING IS IMPORTANT
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peachybun-bun · 2 years
Text
Wound Up
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the graphic above was edited by @chogiwapadada
do not remove the watermark and do not repost
pairing; joshua hong x f reader
genre; smut (minors dni), enemies to lovers, co-workers with no power dynamic
notes/warnings; unprotected sex, lots of teasing and pet names, lots of bickering, spitting in the face (not during sex), spitting on the pussy, impact play, oral (f receiving), fingering, creampie, joshua is big enough or strong enough to carry the reader, talk of consent and consent given (this was important to me with the genre), aftercare
word count; 3.8k and some change
a/n; there was quite a bit of care put into this fic given the dynamic of enemies to lovers. i hope you enjoy it.
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You can almost feel the pretentious smirk on his face as he stands next to your desk. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was as he sighed and rested one hand on his hip before he leaned to rest the other on your desk. “I’m busy Joshua.” You sigh out the words making the overly attractive man laugh as he gives you a good look over. You were cute in your tight pencil skirt, black heels, a different colored button up each day. Today you had opted for a lavender and it looked so nice with your skin tone.
“That’s why I’m here Y/N. I’m here to help. The boss thinks you took on too much when you took on this project. Say hello to your new partner.” You drop your pen looking up from your draft to scoff at Joshua Hong as he keeps leaning on your desk far too close to your face for your comfort. His cologne invades your senses causing you to furrow your brows when you can’t help but think how good he smells. “I don’t want a partner. I can handle it just fine on my own. You can tell him that you changed your mind.”
Joshua laughs at the level of spite in your voice as he practically watches smoke come out of your ears as your fingers grip the pen in your grasp. “I told him you wouldn’t want one and he insisted. So, I’m afraid it’s late nights and cold pizza for us for the next few weeks Princess.” You scoff at his gall when he calls you the name before you groan and push your office chair away from your desk only to stand and storm away from the man.
“Y/N…” You can hear the mirth in his voice which only fuels your anger more as you make your way into the supply room. You try to slam the door in front of his face but his foot is faster catching the door causing you to gasp when he pushes the door open and makes you stumble backwards towards the shelves holding printer paper, staples, and pens.
Closing the door, Joshua raises a brow at you and turns to look at you raising his hands in question. “Are you this much of a child? You can’t stand to work with me for a few weeks? You have to storm away and have a temper tantrum in a closet like a little brat?” You scoff at him as scolds you like he has any room to talk. “You’ve done worse and I was coming in here to get a breath and also…I needed…”
Joshua watches your brain turning as you glance around the room before reaching for a pack of paperclips. “You needed paperclips? I know for a fact you have a box on your desk. You are lying to me. It’s cute how fucking flustered you get around me.” You take a breath as Joshua moves closer to you crowding you against the shelves as he looks down at you. With your eyes narrowing you don’t think before you spit in his face making him laugh as he closes his eyes when you mutter out a “Fuck you, Hong.”
Nodding he wipes your spit from his face and puts his hand on the other side of your body as you stand completely still in front of him. “I promise I will return that favor one day. Now be a good girl and take your paper clips back out to your desk. I’ll be there in a few minutes and we can work like adults.” You roll your eyes at him and shoulder check him hard as you push past him only to hear him laugh again when you leave him alone in the closet.
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Two weeks into the project you had endured too many late nights with Joshua Hong. You refused to admit how many lingering glances had been shared between the two of you. Now you were sitting at your desk which was even closer to his as he groaned over his keyboard about being bored at 8 pm. “Shut the fuck up Joshua. You are the one who said you wanted to finish the section of the article before we went home. I was happy to leave at 5. Unlike you I have a life.”
Joshua shoots you a look with a raised brow as he swivels his chair around and rests his elbow on the desk. The pen in his fingers twirls once, then twice, before he bites at the cap in thought. “Is that so? What is it that you do for fun outside of the office Y/N? Think about what color button up you will wear the next day?”
The pen flies out of your hand towards Joshua before you even consider what you are doing causing the man to laugh as he dodges it nearly hitting him in the face. “So fucking spiteful. Did I hit a nerve? You haven’t had dinner. Come on.” You look up at him as he moves to stand shoving his hands into his tan dress pants before gesturing with his head. “What?”
“I just told you, it's time for some food. You are all wound up, you are going to pop a vessel or break a nail. We are done for the night.” Scoffing you move to stand pushing past Joshua making him laugh again. “I really fucking hate you. Why don’t you just tell me that you want me to quit Joshua? You make my life a living hell.” His laugh falls short as his brows furrow when he follows you towards the door when you go to grab your purse.
“I’m not trying to make you quit Y/N. Don’t be such a wimp.” His hand grabs your purse before you can along with your jacket making you stomp your foot when he offers to help you put on your jacket. Not willing to fight him you slide your arms into the jacket and swipe your purse from him angrily as he meets your eyes.
“You either want to kill me or fuck me. I think I know which one it really is.” You scoff in his face as he smirks at you before you are out of his grasp and out the door with him following close behind. “Goodnight Joshua!” His laugh travels too close to you as you realize he is following you. “You don’t live this way.”
“Correct, but you do, and there is a great little sandwich place on the way to your house. We can pick up some take out and take it back to your apartment.” Stopping in your tracks you turn to look at Joshua almost challenging him as he has to stop short before running into you. “You are just inviting yourself into my home?”
The smirk on his face makes you want to slap him but the look in his eyes that matches your challenge makes you want to see what will happen next. “I’ll even buy you dinner, look at me….a goddamn gentleman.” Rolling your eyes at his words you turn without an answer shoving your hands into your pockets as you start walking again assuming he is following behind you.
You weren’t sure what the sandwich was that you ordered, just that it was the most expensive thing on the menu. Joshua scoffed at you and raised a brow when you walked away making him keep to his word when it came to buying dinner. Taking out his card he couldn’t help but smirk as he glanced over to you as you crossed your arms waiting impatiently for him and the food.
“Lead the way Princess.” You glance up at Joshua with a scowl at the nickname before looking at the bag of food in his hand. You hoped it put some dent in his bank account, not that it mattered. How much damage could a $20 sandwich really cause? The point was it made you feel better.
Joshua laughs when once again you don’t speak to him, instead you just start walking towards your apartment. Your hand reaches into your bag as you climb a few steps and open a door holding it with your foot only to let it close on his shoulder when you don’t wait long enough for him to get fully inside. “So hospitable.”
“Oh I’m sorry my gentle little Prince. Did you get a boo boo? Need mommy to kiss it and make it better?” You turn to walk backwards with a smirk as Joshua’s face actually shows some surprises at your gall. “Mommy huh?” You raise a brow in challenge before turning away from him at his words when you reach your apartment door pushing it open letting him figure it out as you make your way in.
Joshua manages to push the door open and even takes off his shoes, placing them neatly by the door before following you towards the kitchen before finding you standing in front of an open fridge as you take out two beers. Your eyes meet him briefly as he smirks, taking out the sandwiches sliding your overpriced concoction towards you as he trades it for the beer. “Enjoy the truffles.”
You hum out a response as you sit on a stool at the island making sure you pick the one the farest away from Joshua. The man to your left laughs as he slides his sandwich and drink down before moving closer to you making you groan. “In my own fucking house?” You turn your head to meet his eyes as he takes a bite of his sandwich, challenging you once again.
“Fine…” You speak the word through gritted teeth before picking up your own sandwich finding it awkward just based on its size. “Can’t handle large things?” You glance at Joshua when he speaks before narrowing your eyes when you take a harsh bite of the sandwich making him suck in a breath. “I don’t think the sandwich is going to bite back, baby girl.”
You make a face not only to the taste of the sandwich but also the fact that Joshua calls you yet another pet name. Sitting the sandwich down you swivel your stool towards him before picking up your beer, taking a long sip from the glass bottle before letting your tongue rest at the rim as his eyes watch you amused.
Joshua smirks before wiping his lips, putting his own sandwich to the side as he tilts his head. “You look like you want to say something Y/N. Do you want to talk about why you are so frustrated with me? Why are you so tightly wound up?” Your eyes narrow slightly as Joshua turns towards you, his hand daring to move towards you, running his fingertips along your arm.
“I don’t want to say anything to you, but you can leave at any time, Hong.” Joshua laughs and bites at his lip when you bite at him with words once again. “That’s so cute…if you want me to leave tell me to. I’ll leave, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do. However, until that moment, why don’t I tell you what I know to be true.”
You scoff and roll your eyes trying to cross your legs but Joshua kicks out his leg putting his knee between yours stopping you. Furrowing your brows you glance down only to feel his fingers on your chin tilting your head back up. “You are so wound up because you are horny. You are frustrated with me because you want to fuck me just as much as I want to fuck you. I’ve been dreaming of fucking the attitude out of you since I laid eyes on you.”
With your legs pushing against his, Joshua glances down at your thighs and tsks at you. “You are so sure about yourself Joshua. You think you are God’s gift to the world, that just because you are attractive every woman has to throw themselves at you. I won’t do that.” Joshua’s eyes meet yours once again and he tilts his head as his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip making your mouth part for him.
“And it drives me crazy. I want to turn you over my desk every single day and push this skirt up to your hips and fuck you until you only know my name. I don’t want the others.” You smirk at Joshua before letting out a small laugh and you nip at his thumb when he dares to push it into your mouth making him hiss out a curse.
“Another boo boo for mommy to kiss?” Your words are patronizing as you use a voice you would use to talk to a baby making Joshua growl under his breath. “Where is the bedroom or would you prefer I fuck you on the kitchen island?” You smirk as he leans in to ghost his lips over yours, his grip on your face tighter as you consider your choice. “Down the hall to the right.”
Joshua is off the stool and you are over his shoulder before you can think. A gasp falling from your lips as his hand runs over your ass. “I can fucking walk!” The man laughs before his hand comes down over your clothed ass making you let out a small yelp. “And daddy can carry you, Princess. You are going to need your strength.”
Your back meets your bed with a thud making you lose your breath when your body bounces a couple times. Joshua glances around your room quickly before looking down at you with dark lustful eyes. His hands sliding along your knees up to your thighs as he pushes your skirt up, “Tell me if you want this?” You pause and feel the ache in your core as his hands reach your hips making you nod. “I want it, fuck.”
Joshua’s hands move to grip your panties under your skirt before jerking them down your legs making you gasp out a moan at the sudden movement. His eyes follow the lace before he lets his gaze move back up between your legs to your pussy. “Oh baby girl…you are dripping.” You groan in embarrassment at his words but watch as he tugs on his tie undoing it quickly before discarding it with a toss of his hand.
His eyes lock with yours as he makes quick work of his shirt making you bite at your lips when you see his torso for the first time. “Like what you see?” You shake your head no and Joshua laughs before you feel a sharp slap to your inner thigh. “Fucking liar.” He watches you arch off the bed with a lewd moan before your hips roll towards him. “Let’s make a deal, we both stop lying to each other and we both get what we want out of this relationship.”
You moan out a “Whatever…’ only to feel another sharp slap when Joshua moves to crawl towards you up the bed. “Don’t act like a child and I won’t treat you like one.” You look down at him as he stares up at you, level with your core, his hot breath hitting your wet folds as he scolds you. “Fine! Ok! You look good. Fuck.”
The sound of your moans when his mouth is on your pussy is like music to Joshua’s ears. You sound like everything he could have dreamed and more as your hips roll to meet each harsh movement of his tongue and lips. He only pulls back and looks up at you making sure you are looking at him when he speaks. “Do you remember spitting in my face?”
You scoff and roll your hips towards him not thinking this was exactly the time to be talking about a fight from a few weeks ago, but a bite to your inner thigh brings your attention back to him as you squeal out a yes. “I bet you do, and do you remember my promise to return the favor?” You nod and watch as he spits over your folds before slapping his fingers harshly over your clit making you scream out his name into a moan when your orgasm hits you like a freight train.
“Now that's what I want to hear. Cum for me.” You whine at Joshua’s words when two of his fingers slide into your walls as you are already clenching into your orgasm only making you buck down harder towards him. “Please!” Joshua’s brows shoot up at your beg as his thumb circles your clit when he pushes you towards a place of overstimulation.
“Are you going to beg for me? Oh Princess…I never thought I’d hear that.” You curse your lack of resolve as he smirks at you when he moves around to the side of the bed. His hands move to help you remove the rest of your clothes. Your hands move to his belt and Joshua tsks before taking a step back letting you work. “Another thing I’d never thought I’d see. Your hands on my pants. I like it.”
“You are so cocky. It’s making me lose my sex drive Joshua.” He laughs at your words before grabbing your face making you look at him once you have pushed his pants and briefs down til he can step out of them. Your hand wrapped around his rather impressive cock. “We promised not to lie to one another. You say you are losing your sex drive and here you are, your hand pumping my cock.”
You scowl at him pulling your face from him before taking your hand away as he raises a brow at your defiance. “Do you want me to leave? I can leave you right now or I can fuck you so hard we forget what we were even fighting about.” Groaning as you feel how your pussy throbs at his words you reach for his hand making him laugh as he crawls over the bed only to pause. “You want me to use a condom?”
Shaking your head no, Joshua smirks and nods before leaning in to kiss you harshly as he drags your hands up over your head pinning them there. You can’t help but to moan into the kiss as your fingernails dig into his hand as he shifts to using one hand to pin them both. His free hand moving to grab his cock as he drags his head through your folds slowly.
“Shua…put it in!” He laughs against your lips at your words as he teases you when you lift your hips and put your leg over his hip trying to gain any upper hand in this situation. “So bossy.” You start to speak when he lines himself up with your entrance and finally pushes into you with one long slow thrust before bottoming out. You gasp a breath and hold his hand tightly, your eyes shut tight as he stays still for a moment letting you adjust.
The stretch quickly becomes pleasure and you roll your hips up making him groan on your lips before he leans back to look down at you with a smirk on his face. “Needy too.” You whine out a “shut up” making him laugh before his lips are on your neck leaving small kisses before he lets go of your hands in place of his hand moving to grab at your breast when his mouth sucks and bites at your collarbone leaving deep red marks.
“Oh…fuck…” You whimper the words as his hips slap against yours. Your head pressed back against the pillows as your fingernails rake along Joshua’s back making him hiss into a loud groan against your shoulder as he leaves another dark mark. “I’m gonna cum.” He nods in agreement as his thrusts start to become messy and quicker. “Where do you want it?”
You consider it for a moment and hold your foot tighter on his ass making him grunt as he furrows his brows and smirks when he meets your eyes. “Inside?” You nod before gasping for your breath as you lose yourself to your orgasm closing your eyes. Joshua watches your face in awe at the fucked out look that washes over you. The look of bliss that radiates from you on to him as he feels the coil that was building inside of him finally give way.
His mouth connects with yours as he mutters against your lips when he fills you with his cum. You whine to how full you feel and how your body is so tense but as he starts to slow his thrusts and you relax you feel like you are floating on water. “So fucking good.” Joshua’s voice is low and almost trembles as he pulls back to pull out of you.
He can’t help himself as he moves to pull your legs apart to watch as the mixture of cum starts to drip from you. “Oh baby, that is so pretty. I almost wanna fuck it back into you.” You groan and kick at his leg making him laugh as he moves to lay down beside you for a moment before sitting up. “That door leads to the bathroom?” You don’t even look as you figure he is looking at the only other door in the room. “You are a fucking genius Joshua.” He rolls his eyes at you before sliding off the bed and going into the other room where you can hear the sink turn on.
Turning on your side you watch the mirror and Joshua as he gets cleaned up. You can’t help but to narrow your eyes in thought at what had just happened and what it might mean. You didn’t know what you wanted it to mean. Joshua glances into the mirror meeting your eyes before smirking and wetting a washcloth before moving back into the bedroom raising a brow.
“What?” You eye him and the washcloth as he sits down and starts running it over your face and chest. “I’m getting you cleaned up.” You scoff and furrow your brows as he runs the washcloth between your legs with a shrug before looking at you with a raised brow. “I’m not a complete asshole Princess.”
“You could have fooled me.” Joshua laughs at your words as you smack his hand from between your legs and you slide off the bed moving towards the bathroom with the washcloth in hand. “You want me to leave?” You leave the door cracked as you take care of cleaning yourself up considering his words. A smile on your lips as you put some fake annoyance in your answer. “It’s already so fucking late, you might as well stay.”
Joshua smiles at your words and lays back on your bed putting his arm behind his head as he looks up at the ceiling sharing many of the same thoughts you had. He wasn’t sure what all this meant and he wasn’t sure he wanted the bickering to stop because you were sexy when you were all wound up.
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dduane · 1 year
Text
Damn it all, I lost someone's ask
I saved it to draft (so I could deal with it at more length) and it vanished.
The person was saying they wanted to tank up on Young Wizards printed books but were having trouble, due to unavailability of all but "the first one", and prices for both hardcovers and trade paperbacks being all over the place at independent suppliers.
Briefly: this has been a problem for nearly the last decade, and more so since the books' US publisher (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt) was ingested by another larger publisher.
Distribution on these books has always been dodgy, and frankly it's become more so over time, as their publisher keeps changing hands, staff leave or are fired, and sales staffs turn over. Additionally, all the books have appeared in multiple formats over the years, and not all of the books necessarily in all of those.
Confused yet? I know I am, and they're my damn books!
Dealing strictly with the Harcourt editions here: the first three appear only in mass-market paperbacks, with covers by two different artists. The fourth one then appears in mass market and an unusual small-format hardcover. Then (when the series took off with that publisher) all the MMPBs were repackaged, and (starting with the fifth one) were preceded by Harcourt hardcovers. Additionally, as the books were doing quite well in the early 2000s, the sales staff thought it would be a good idea if there were "digest format" editions aimed at younger readers. (These books were only physically larger than MMPBs, with bigger print: no text was ever Reader's-Digest-style abridged/condensed.) And there were only six of these, as the later books were thought to be "more adult" and hence not a good fit for this format.
After that, the remaining three books all went to hardcover-and-paperback, usually a year apart. The digest editions were allowed to gradually go out of print; so were the hardcovers, as demand for them fell off. And that's where we are at the moment, with (as far as I can tell) the MMPBs only being reprinted in small amounts when stocks fall low enough to warrant it.
This situation doesn't really support the books being easy to find. Additionally, older editions of the hardcovers from previous publishers (and older trade paperbacks, ditto) are still out there, and can be had... but at what will look like weirdly high prices. The early Dell hardcovers of So You Want To Be A Wizard, Deep Wizardry and High Wizardry, due to their small print runs, are rare, hard to find, and usually go for hundreds of dollars. (This link at Abebooks will show you what the situation's currently like for the Delacorte hardcover first edition of So You Want To Be A Wizard.) For a long time there was no US hardcover of A Wizard Abroad until SF Book Club published one set from the text of the UK Transworld/Corgi edition. (sigh) And so on. (There's a page over at the Young Wizards site dealing with this wild assortment of covers and formats.)
Now, all that said: Over at Signed Books Direct is our storefront for copies of both the newer and older books. Except for the rarest ones, we sell them at cover price (and are happy to do so, because FFS nobody needs this many of their own books). :) I acquired a lot of these from Harcourt when word came down that warehouse space was tight, stock was being winnowed, and I could have these on the cheap—or, it was heavily implied, they would be pulped. And as someone who due to a weird confluence of circumstances had half the print run of her (strongly-selling!) first novel pulped in the warehouse, the mere word, even after forty years, makes my blood run a bit cold. So I laid out the necessary cash and gave those books a home. And when people find ones they want, I sell them on to new homes with great pleasure.
So the thing for you to do (O person whose ask was in an evil hour eaten by Tumblr) is use the SBD contact email on this page to query me about what you're looking for. I'm presently in the middle of reorganizing the store's inventory so it reflects what we've actually got. The website's about to be reorganized to reflect what's on the shelves in the boot room, but that's not gonna happen this week.. so don't take what you see on the site seriously. Query me about what you're after, and as soon as I've had a rummage in the shelves, I'll get back to you.
HTH!
(And for those of you wondering, "But what are you doing about the distribution problem?" ...right now the answer is: "What my agent and I can." More news as it becomes available.)
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parachutingkitten · 5 months
Text
Plastic Women: So, what is my point?
A note for those who somehow would like to hear more from me about the video
The mega video started out as a final essay assignment for a children's media college class. The prompt was ten pages on a topic related to children's media that tied into one of our weekly discussions. Being as obsessed with ninjago as I am, I was obviously going to write about it, and one of our weekly topics had to do with children's media's relationship to gender. I had a lot of thoughts on the female characters of the show, so I decided this essay would be a good opportunity to get those off my chest. Plastic Women: Female Representation in Lego Ninjago was the end result. It was a good essay- maybe I'll post it some time. The only problem was that my initial first draft was nearly a dozen pages long- and I had only just finished my thoughts on Nya. I decided that a paper analyzing the arc of the central female character would be perfectly adequate for the assignment, tightened things up a bit, and submitted it. I knew as soon as I did that the rest of my thoughts would have to come out- and that's what the four hours you've(presumably) watched is.
Being that the original point of the essay was to fulfill an assignment requirement, pinpointing the end goal of the video was a weirdly difficult struggle in the production process. I knew I had a lot of thoughts about the women, I knew it felt important that they get out into the world, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why. Why is this so important? What's my point in making this? Why do I have this drive behind things? I offer up a couple explanations in my video. Part of it was to help improve consciousness of these issues, to stress that female representation is actually important in male targeted media. To help encourage better practices for the show's future, to get people think analytically about the media they consume. These explanations seemed to satisfy me, and I still think they're all very important and valid, but even as I sat down to record the outro, there was this nagging feeling that I hadn't quite gotten to the core of why I was making this. What was driving me to put in a year and a half of effort, scripting, refilms, and endless, endless editing in order to get this out? Because while I do care about all of those things, it doesn't ignite that same passion source of where this video is coming from.
Unfortunately, the realization only really hit me after posting the video- after reading the comments. Unfortunately, the negative ones. I don't want to overstate how much hate the video has gotten, it has been widely well received, but I have my fair share of suspected (or self described) children and pre teens calling me an idiot for overthinking things in the comments. Some of these are obviously only responding to the title and thumbnail, and it's quite fun to scroll through the comment section and point them out. But of the people who have the most plausible deniability for actually watching at least part of the video, the most common criticism was by far the run time. Why am I dedicating this much time to a show which is obviously not a raging hate letter towards women? I'm labeling this thing as sexist when there's a whole season of the lead female fighting sexism. There are so many worse things that might deserve this run time, but ninjago can not be that bad. This is obviously ridiculous.
Now there are a couple of responses I have to this sentiment. First of all, the series is insanely long. I have to not only analyze, but explain all 15 seasons for those who (understandably) haven't watched it all or aren't as obsessive as I am. That's gonna take some time regardless of what angle you're doing a deep dive on. Have you seen the length of some of the show recap videos alone? Second, the video as a whole is a retrospective, not purely a criticism. I spend quite a bit of the run time praising the things which I do like and shrugging at things I think are passable. Third, I state up front that I am purposely looking for all interpretations of the text, because they are all interpretations that a young audience could potentially take away. Even if it's not surface level, if it's one or two layers down, I'm still interested. That means it's not logical to blanketly call the show sexist, because it's not openly promoting these ideas, and that was never my goal, I think I made that clear. In many ways I believe that if this were a "Ninjago is sexist" video it would be a lot shorter. Part of why the runtime is so long is because there is a great deal of nuance to how this show treats its female characters, and nuance takes time. If it were as simple as "Ninjago is obviously misogynistic" I would point to the problem spots and we wouldn't need a discussion. I wouldn't have to analyze. It would just be a statement of fact. But that's why the video's title is much less specific and accusatory. "More misogynistic than you remember" is a lot more open ended. It has some misogyny in there, and it's more than your child brain likely noticed. That doesn't mean it's necessarily overwhelming or defining for the series, it just means that it's there- and that amount is going to differ depending on the viewer and their personal interpretations of the text. I for one thought that the Racer 7 plot line was an obvious dismissal of female struggle, but apparently it's not as clear a universal a reading as I thought. Maybe it's my life experience as a women in a male dominated field that put that front and center under a undeniable spotlight for me, but that doesn't mean that's the universal experience of the show, nor should it count against the show so strongly as I feel it.
But this criticism is finally what made it click for me. I'm not criticizing the show because it's obviously sexist. Quite the opposite. I'm criticizing it because it is trying to not be sexist. I'm criticizing the show because it wants to be progressive, it's trying to include female characters, it is including messages and plotlines specifically to try and uplift women- and it's failing.
I am past the point of feeling the need to point out that andrew tate is wrong for seeing women as lesser. That's not an interesting take, that's not a new idea, and if you need that told to you, you are likely beyond help from a youtube video. I am not here to dabate if female representation is valuable, I am taking that fact as a given because it is a conclusion which I feel is inherently correct. If you have not yet come to this same conclusion, the purpose of this video is not to convince you that it is. That can be someone else's job. This is not a 101 class, it's got some prerequisites, because without them, you aren't going to appreciate my points. I am interested in giving ideas to people who already know their basics. It's not my fault if you're a few decades behind in your ideas on film theory. The efficacy of what constitutes positive female representation has already been debated and outlined for decades by people much smarter than me. I am not here to make their points, I am here to make my own.
I'm not here to point out the problems of blatant sexism, because that has been litigated to death; I'm interested in the problems of sexism today- because yes, even when sexism isn't blatant, it's still a problem. I am interested in breaking down subtle sexism. Accidental sexism. Systemic sexism. Sexism from people who are trying to be inclusive, because they are the ones who will actually take feedback. The sexism that is baked into our media culture, so deeply ingrained that it seems rather acceptable to show sexual assault on a kid's show. I am interested in why a show which so obviously repeatedly tries to incorporate feminist ideas into its plot can so easily rid its female characters of agency. It's not that I made the video to say something about ninjago, it's that I made the video to say something about sexism in media, and used ninjago as my example. It. Is. Everywhere. And perhaps even worse, it is ridiculously easy to accidentally end up in your work.
I do hint at these ideas throughout the run of my video, but I really wish I had known this was where my drive was coming from at the outset, because if I had, this idea would be pressed constantly. Tropes older than the film medium seep into the most basic of plots and position females in passive roles by default, and if you don't know that, you are going to ingrain these ideas into your work. It might not be blatant, it might be quite subtle, but it may also snowball into something egregious, like happens in skybound. It was supposed to be a season (partially)about fighting sexism, but ends up framing our lead female as an object, removing all her agency, and turning our leading man into an extremely objectifying character who never grows out of his possessive behaviors. Like I say at the beginning, this is a cautionary tale. It's active proof that doing the bare minimum in not being offensive in female representation requires an amount of effort that many people don't realize is necessary. It is almost never that the show outright says something sexist, it's that the plot structure and character progression do not think to include its female characters. It is not the text, it's the subtext. And you might not think that subtext is influential, but the very fact that you think it's not is the most terrifying thing about it. Our brains absorb so much more than we know, and the fact that these patterns and stereotypes are seeping in subconsciously without our recognizing it, is perhaps even more dangerous than outwardly sexist media in some cases. Consistency in these patterns is bound to rewire your brain- and you won't even notice.
That's the point I think I failed to emphasize throughout the run. How easy it is. How ridiculously easy it is to fall into these problems. "it's like you see sexism everywhere!" well, yes. It is everywhere. That's the point. It's baked into our culture. It's a corner stone in our media. It's systemic. That's the problem- that it's near impossible to find something that doesn't have it because it's a founding principle of most of human culture. That's why reverse sexism is not nearly as big a deal btw. Sure, shows aimed at little girls have a lot of underdeveloped male love interests, but they also haven't been stuck in that position for centuries upon centuries of human storytelling.
I don't feel the need to prove that the label of misogynist or sexist is befitting of the whole series, because for one, it's not, and for two, that wouldn't do anything. Ninjago is a symptom of the problem. It is not the problem in and of itself. Blacklisting it for being bad doesn't help anything, and I think I made it abundantly clear that was never my intention or desire. My intention was to show you just how prevalent this casual sexism can be. How this subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) undercurrent can be found in something as unexpected as a children's show which actively brags about the strength of its female characters. The goal was to open your eyes to how consistent it is, even if it's not potent. It was to lay out how the patterns tend to present themselves, so that maybe you'll be able to better identify them elsewhere. Because they are elsewhere. They're everywhere. It may not be in as high a dosage as it used to, but collectively it is still a staggering, saturating amount. And if you are an artist looking to make something that doesn't have this subtext, I'm here to warn you that it is likely a steeper up hill battle than you initially presume.
Misogyny is everywhere. I just happen to know a lot about ninjago, so that's where I chose to go in depth in breaking it down. It's a case study- and I think a quite interesting one with a lot of nuance at that. It's what I felt I could contribute, and I have to believe that's enough to justify its existence.
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pagemasters · 2 months
Text
Fantasies He…
BABY’S FIRST FIC!!!
Author’s notes: So after reading so many for years I thought maybe it’s my turn to take a crack at it. There’s I think 3 parts to this, with the first one having basically no smut and mostly platonic fluff between Az and Feyre, but part 3? Can’t say the same thing for the middle Archeron sister lmao
I swear this started out to be one part but the story told me otherwise, part 2 is fully drafted I’m just revising and editing
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I’m a very visual person, so enjoy the floor plan of the nursery and a rough sketch of what I think her mural would be and the star! I am a painter if it wasn’t obvious so the whole portion on starfall stars is actually based on how Bob Ross paints his northern lights, just with modifications BUT I haven’t tried it myself for this specific purpose. Also the colour of Feyre and Rhys’s stars are the colours of the first ones that hit them during Starfall btw! I love the platonic relationships between the inner circle and we don’t get enough of it
If you enjoyed it I would love u forever if you let me know!! :)
Ps. Omg dialogue is so difficult to make realistic but also in character, none of that “hey big brother” etc. shit you see in tv shows where you’re like who tf says that to their sibling ?? Ps.ps. I haven’t taken an English writing class for 5 years so if punctuation was wrong let’s pretend it wasn’t LMAO
I CANT FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO AO3 LINK BUT IT’S ON THERE WITH THE SAME USERNAME LOL SORRY
Summary:
Azriel spends the day with Feyre, only to get caught in the rain on the way home. Good thing the townhouse is empty. Or is it…
CHAPTER ONE: DAYDREAMING
The rain finally decided to make its appearance as Azriel stepped out of the River house. Taking a deep breath, he let the soothing scent wash over him as he relaxed his wings. 
The meeting with Rhys was short, just a weekly update on the goings around the other courts and allies, nothing that required the full inner circle to make an appearance. Something he knew after centuries of this work should be a good thing, but it doesn’t stop the pang in his chest at the missed opportunity of seeing her. 
Not that he didn’t try to catch a glimpse of her. He did take a walk through the beautiful home his brother had built for his mate after seeing him, the smell of cedar and masonry long since faded from the construction days; replaced with flowers and candles and the dinner his shadows whispered Nuala and Cerridwen were working on. The scent of paint lingered though, and he discovered the reason why as he got to the residential wing. His High Lady wasn’t in her studio, but he found her nonetheless with a brush in her tattooed hand. 
“I think you missed a spot.” Az said from the doorway, trying to repress his smile at her startled reaction. Even though Feyre and Rhys opted for doorways fashioned with wings in mind, he kept his drawn in tight, not wanting to risk smearing her paint as he stepped inside. 
“Rhys won’t let me use the step ladder without him holding it. And me. And the bump.” Feyre twisted to look up from her spot on the floor and smiled in greeting before lowering the brush to pat her stomach in emphasis. She gave her mate’s antics an affectionate eye roll and shake of her head before releasing a heavy sigh, glancing back at her work. 
“If I remember correctly,” Az teased, “you are prone to falling quite spectacularly.”
She let out an indignat squawk so loud he had to bite his lips to prevent laughing, her body spinning so fast to face him fully that paint ended up splattering from her brush to the white drop cloth. 
Their flying lessons had ceased for the most part since the war, so watching her fly into a tree or eat rocks wasn’t as common an occurrence— but that’s not to say that still doesn’t happen. Knowledge he happens to be privy to not just as her flight teacher, but as the spymaster, something she’s very aware of if the narrowing of her eyes and mouth hanging open are any indication. 
It’s hard not to notice the similarities between the sisters, when even with your eyes closed the cadence of their speech was also similar. But it was never so apparent between youngest and oldest Archeron as when Feyre’s eyes pinned him in place, the expression of mock outrage was so much like Nesta’s it was almost comical. 
“Ruuuude,” she said, drawing the word out in a whine with pouted lips, no doubt remembering the amount of face plants he’d witnessed when she first began to fly. “I see how you treat your High Lady, Shadowsinger. Just wait, it’s not too late for me to paint a little something in your bedroom.”
“And here I thought pouting and grumbling was beneath royalty, at least you can say you’re a tree hugger.”
She gave him a gesture that was certainly beneath royalty, and he didn’t hold back his chuckle this time. 
“What gave you that idea, have you even met Rhys?” 
“Oh trust me, you should’ve seen him when we were kids.” He said, grabbing her hands to help her stand. “He discovered in a book that while bat wings look identical to ours, the anatomy of their wing is labeled similar to that of the hand. So for them, their talons are their thumbs. After that, he took it upon himself to hang upside down in silent protest whenever he was mad, but didn’t want his mother to wash his mouth out with soap for swearing.”
“He did not.”
“Mhmm, until his faced turned purple.”
“And where were you and Cass for all this?” Feyre said through her giggling, a wide grin of unrestrained joy plastered on her face. 
“He couldn’t have done it alone, a thumbs down by yourself would look stupid.”
“Ah yes, because the three of you hanging upside down like overgrown bats isn’t ridiculous.” She cackled, “How long until he gave it up?”
“A few weeks. After Cassian passed out in the middle of camp and we all got broken capillaries on our faces. Still, a better alternative than the awful tasting soap in Illyria.” 
“What, as opposed to other tasting soap?” He just shrugged, smiling. 
Rhys’s mom’s reaction to warriors dragging them across the rocky ground home was as lively in his memory as she was when she berated them when her son fessed up. She was less thrilled to hear the real reason than Devlon was having passed out children strewn about the place, but she never did call them out on the lie they fed to Devlon about it being a dare when he came banging on their door. That night though when they were more lucid, she brought them on foot to one of the mountains surrounding their outpost and stood them at the opening of a cave. He still remembers the eyes he felt on them, the warning bells ringing from his shadows as she gestures her hands out and said, “If you want to act like bats, you can join them; or you can toughen up, learn how and when to pick battles and what hills are worth to dying on. Because there will be more people who will piss you off, but this is not an option when you’re leading armies. So,” her hazel eyes meeting each of theirs, “What will it be? Do you want to stay here or take the soap and fly right on home.” Needless to say they bolted home with the taste of pine tar suds coating their mouths like a film no amount of water could rid them of the taste. He could still feel the eyes of whatever was in that cave the entire way home, but thank the cauldron he could fly at that point. His heart ached at the memory of the female, the one he knew picked a low cave for him to make her point, just in case. The one his shadows caught a few times after that upside down on the couch after a rough day when she thought she was alone. 
As Feyre’s amusement continued with eyes glazed over—no doubt having a silent conversation with Rhys—Az cleared his throat, his shadows pulling back as he gestured to their surroundings and asked, “So how’s the nursery coming along?” 
“It’s going great,” she replied after a moment, her laughter subsiding as she surveyed the mural.  “I know it’s not geographically correct, and that Starfall and the time when our courts insignia’s stars show don’t overlap, but I couldn’t not include them. I want  him and any possible future child to see the night court as I did when I first fell in love with it and their dad.” 
Indeed, while he knew Rhys was already in love with her, he got to watch Feyre love him back as much as he deserved in real time the longer she was here. And the way she captured the land they all loved so much here was… breathtaking. 
On the wall that held the doorway he just stepped through lay the mountain with the moonstone palace atop it. The first place she saw here. They both knew where the doors to Hewn city rest below, but it was covered by the landscape. As if there were no room for nightmares in this room, even if it was a court this babe may one day rule. 
“I have no idea how you made that mountain so realistic,” he said to her in awe, pointing to the painting adjacent to the wall they just looked at. 
“The crib is going to go right below it when the rooms done. I want it to watch over him.” She replied almost reverently as she looked up. 
The mountain was the tallest of the three she painted, and it looked just as it had on his trek up there with his brothers during the rite. Physically it was practically stone for stone, those three stars lines up overhead perfectly, but the energy differed. Instead of the cold and foreboding thing he remembered on the way up, it seemed almost… euphoric? As if the wild joy and love Rhysand, Cassian and he felt as they made their way to the top and won seeped its way onto the painting. Like the unyielding strength from that mountain and what it brought out of them would guide and protect him, just like it did for the three winged dots surrounding the monolith at the tip. How that was even possible was beyond him. 
He could barely tear his gaze away, but snickered as he saw the tiny but recognizable building at the base of it to the right. “The cabin, huh?”
“Of course, gotta prep him for one day kicking all of your asses during your snowball fight.” She added, blushing. “I put few snowballs flying just for good luck.”
Though he knew the other reason the cabin was significant to Feyre and Rhys, the thought of his future nephew joining their game warmed him. But It did make trying not to focus on other non-winged and winged babies that could one day join in the snowball fight impossible. Children have always been an abstract idea, a figment he knew existed but besides Rhys’s sister, he wasn’t around. And after what happened to her… He thought for a long time he would never have one of his own, but that sentiment start to change in recent years. He could avoid it most days though, but being surrounded by the baby stuff made the hypothetical harder to ignore. The thoughts on if he’d have his own little ones propped on his hip and curled into his chest with their chubby cheeks and inquisitive eyes. If they would have his hazel or her golden brown ones, or something different if they adopted. Would their little hands or clothes or hair get caught in the scales of his armour just like hers did when he took her on her first flight to the town house from the House of Wind, when he held her for the first time. Would Elain… Az paused, stopping that train of thought before it just twisted the knife even further, seeing more things he can’t have. 
His shadows began to circle him, and if Feyre noticed she politely didn’t comment on it before pointing out what she was working on when he interrupted her. 
To the right of the cabin and right were she was sat Velaris, and it really did look like a city of starlight with how she painted the glowing nightscape. He could make out the four markets that were the heart of the city, with extra emphasis on where the town house sat along with the new residence they were currently in. Bisecting through it all, the Sidra River looked so realistic he could probably skip a rock across its surface. It flowed like a living thing, reflecting the lights from the buildings on its edge and even the stars above. Two of which weren’t normal stars. 
Above the city proper and even the flat topped mountain that held the House of Wind was the beginnings of starfall. 
“How-“Azriel could barely get out, “how is this even possible?”
“Perks of now being immortal; plenty of time to practice. And having a husband with wings who takes you to get aerial views.” She simply said gesturing to their city, as if she didn’t create magic with swipes of colours. 
“The green one is mine, and the light blue one is Rhys’s. I’m planning to get everyone to add their own star to the wall.” Now looking him, she smirked. “Which means you came at a perfect time, Shadowsinger. Your turn.”
He gave her an unbelieving expression, shadows instantly vanishing. “You can’t be serious.”
Her eyes twinkled with mischief, “if I trust Cassian with a paintbrush, you’ll be fine. He’s coming by in a few days when he gets a free moment, Nesta and her two friends are keeping him busy with training.” Nesta is keeping him busy with more than just that, it’s a wonder he even has energy to train them. 
But looking at Rhysand’s mate, Azriel saw her glow in a way different from her powers. Feyre radiated joy as her hand cradled her stomach despite barely showing, not caring about paint getting on her already splattered clothes. For his brother, for the friend beside him and his nephew in her womb, he removed his jacket and let out a resounding sigh in defeat. “What do you need me to do?” 
So Feyre excitedly brought him over to her pile of paint tubes on the drop cloth. She grabbed the white and as he selected the colour phthalo blue she went off to prep the clean, dry brushes and a fresh palette for him. 
“So pick the area of the sky you want your star to be, I’d like to keep the inner circle’s additions mostly above Velaris, but I’ll add tiny ones fading out once everyone is done. Amren and Mor are away, Cass is busy and who knows if or when Nesta would want to contribute. That means besides Rhys and I, you have the pick of the litter.”
“What about Elain?” He asked, trying to keep his voice and face as neutral as possible when she handed him a 3 inch brush already dipped in his blue. 
“I’ll drag her in here after dinner when she gets in from the garden. The colour of the sky is already dry which is the important part, so there’s no time constraint on when everyone adds theirs besides my due date.” She gave him a knowing smile which he dutifully ignored, along with the disappointment in his chest as she confirmed Elain wasn’t in. “Now I want you to cover a large area of where you generally want the shape of the star to go, it doesn’t have to be perfect but cover much more than you think you’d need to.”
He hesitates, “won’t this cover up your sky? It’s a dark colour.”
“Just trust me.”
He followed her instructions, cringing as his brush made contact with her beautiful wall and went over the faint background stars she had already done, but relaxed when he saw they were still partially visible. 
Az looked back at her, seeing his shadows lazily inspecting them, as if they wanted a part in the activity their master is occupied with. Feyre playfully eyed the curious one that grazed her hand as she took his current brush from his scarred hand to switch it. “Now with this fan brush, I want you to coat it in the white paint. And as you do so, get a feel for how the bristles bend and move.”
Doing as High Lady said, he got her guidance once he brought the loaded brush to the wall, being sure to dab, not swipe the white in a near full coverage circle followed by a line over the shade of blue he had no idea how to pronounce. 
“So this is where the magic begins,” she stated when he finished and passed a third brush over, a flat paddle one identical to the first and this time a cloth. “You see that perfectly clean teardrop you made? You’re gonna ruin it.”
At the alarmed look he gave her, she just cackled. “I knew you’d make that face, Rhys did the exact same. I want you to very lightly swipe the brush starting at the largest end of the teardrop and out towards the tail of the star. That’s the only motion you’ll be doing. And after each swipe you can gently wipe off the brush before starting again. You can also practice the strokes around the mountain until you feel ready like Rhys did, the sky there is also dry.”
With a deep breath, he took a step away and tried it until he felt like he got the technique she wanted down. This was for his family, he reminded himself, he will not let his nephew down. And despite getting her nod of approval, he still felt like he was going in blind as he did what she said and his jaw dropped. 
Well shit. Now he understood why she wanted him to put down the colour he chose first. 
“The blue is actually transparent; so while it looks dark in the tube, it blends out much lighter. Especially with white under or overtop. You’re doing wet-on-wet blending.” What was once just a bright blob over blue so dark you couldn’t see it on her perfect walls, he could now see how the white faded. How the light and the dark mixed until they became one. So Az wiped the excess off his brush, and continued on and on until it looked similar enough to what she and Rhys created. They fell into a rhythm, Feyre handing him back the fan brush to brighten or a new one with bristles so impossibly soft as they worked as a team. She barely had to tell him what to do now, so with next to no pressure he feathered it out vertical rather than the almost horizontal strokes from before, until only a streak of blue light remained. They could’ve been at this for minutes or hours, he had no idea. He didn’t even question her instruction to use a densely bristled tool he could’ve sworn was a toothbrush to flick on watered down white paint for the star trail. 
“This is incredible, Feyre.” He stated, stepping back at last.
“That wasn’t me, that was all you my friend.” She grinned at him. “Once everyone’s is dry, I’m adding a sheer shimmery paint to make them pop, but even without it you did a beautiful job.”
He felt heat rise to his face, and inclined his head in thanks without removing his eyes from the wall. 
“You certainly have an eye for this, Az. Care to quit and become a painter? I could use an assistant.”
A chill went through him, and he started to turn in her direction before the window caught his attention. Dusk must have fallen along with the rain who knows how long ago. About to rub his temples, Feyre squeaked out a warning before he remembered the task at hand and looked down at himself. The plain black long sleeve shirt covered in splatters didn’t matter, he goes through them like water for work but the paint coating his skin made his stomach drop the same way her jest did. Much different than the red he was used to seeing there, all the blood he still couldn’t wash away.
He can paint a picture with his knife, but nothing like Feyre’s ability of creation. Each slash he makes as delicate and precise a dance as any Nesta favours, but instead it’s to a symphony of screams. And unlike Elain… the only soil he sees is grave dirt. If the bodies make it that far. 
His work is never meant to been seen by others, it’s means to and end, a way to protect his family and his court. Unlike their work, where it would be a crime to hide it from the world.
“Tempting offer, Cursebreaker,” Az murmured, swapping the dirty cloth for a damp one his shadows brought him. Paying close attention to his siphons and not his scars, he still didn’t feel clean enough no matter how hard he wiped the paint from his skin. “Sadly, I don’t think your mate would be too thrilled to have to hire someone else to feed the creatures in Hewn City.”
She snorted, making a lighthearted comment about at least no one had to feed Byraxis, for now… The forced tease in her voice didn’t fool him as she realized she must’ve hit a nerve, but he appreciated her effort anyway.
“I do have to head out, but I’ll pop by soon to see the progress when I drop off paperwork.” He told her, his lips pressed to the top of her head and shockingly made contact with her hair in a brief farewell. Rhys must’ve lessened the shield knowing Az was with her, but not by much considering both her and the babe’s scent was still concealed. 
Feyre did invited him to stay for dinner which he politely declined. It wouldn’t be served for an hour, but he needed space and to fly to clear his head—still feeling like if he looked down he’d be dripping blood that didn’t belong to him as he made his was out. He did try not to rush out as he walk through the maze of supplies strewn about the covered floor, keeping his wings high even as his shadows tugged at him, but he had a feeling she knew his reason for leaving. Well, at least the other reason. 
Lightning cracks through the sky, snapping Azriel out of his memories. Damn, He must be more tired than he thought. If breaking one of the cardinal rules of flying—also known as “PAY ATTENTION JACKASS!” by his brothers when they taught him—wasn’t enough, he’s not even going to the right place. Despite not living there for years, he’d been heading towards the town house and not the House of Wind. 
The storm just seems to be picking up, but at least with the downpour he no longer felt the warm spray of blood coating him rather than the paint, he just felt nothing at all. Well, nothing besides wanting to get the fuck home. Az really didn’t have the energy to fly up a mountain or winnowing through this even if it wouldn’t be his first time. But considering how often lightning hits the rocks rather than the surrounding city, crashing at the town house is easiest. It’s for the best, with it sitting empty now. At least he’d be alone. 
Az pauses mid-flight though, when he notices the lights already on inside. And the smoke rising from the chimney only to dissipate in the rain.
What the hell? Who would be dumb enough to break into their high lord and inner circle’s home? It’s not like it’s broadcasted who owns the house but it’s pretty common knowledge after this long. 
At least storms can be a great tool for his field of work, it’s almost a blessing in disguise he plans to use to its full advantage. Landing atop the roof as gently as possible, he ensures his wing beat blends in with the rain like it has hundreds of times before. Using his siphons to unlock the door and slipping inside, the creak of the hinge merely just a gust of wind as he shuts it behind him. 
That’s when the smell of jasmine and honey hits him so strongly he has to bite back his moan. But it seems like he was the only one who did. 
Because mixed within that scent ingrained in his brain, is Elain’s arousal. 
And she’s…
Oh fuck. 
Fuck fuck fuck fuck
38 notes · View notes
sonkitty · 13 days
Text
Crowley S2 Hair Post #34
(For reference: The Sideburns Scheme)
Crowley, Good Omens 2, Episode 3, I Know Where I'm Going, Keys
...
Sideburns Check
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The sideburns are still short. The previous scene mostly provided a view of the left sideburn. This scene mostly provides a view of the right sideburn.
This scene is the second and last of the two in this private room with Aziraphale. As my theory goes, the sideburns are shorter here because of Crowley's and Aziraphale's relationship being very similar to human partners.
...
Brighter Red Streak Check
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Most of the camera work shows Crowley's right side for the hair. As such, there are not many cuts to look for the more saturated red streak of hair.
But the streak is playing games with us this round, for anyone looking for it.
The streak makes itself known when Crowley talks about the miracle measurement based on how many people could have been brought back from the dead. Then it is one evident streak where the top front hair is splitting. The streak is with the batch of hair to Crowley's left near his part.
The conversation moves on. Then when Crowley talks about getting Nina to do the love thing with Maggie, the streak is actually two streaks. One is where it is but not as saturated in its red. The other streak is with the batch of hair tilting to the right, still generally above Crowley's left eye. It's also not as saturated in red as the earlier version.
When Crowley reluctantly reaches into what is probably a pocket to get the keys, the stronger saturation for where the streaks should be are gone though the hair is at least a little lighter in color. The hair generally stays that way for the rest of the scene.
...
I have mentioned a theory that doesn't quite fit that the streak is an after-effect of a Big Miracle from the first draft or an earlier draft of the story that put the Book of Life into the matchbox. This scene making the streak definitely at its strongest visibility when talking about the miracle looks like the story is indeed hinting that the streak is at least related to the miracle to hide Gabriel where I speculated the characters tricked themselves into setting the alarms off in Heaven.
Another theory I have is that the streak is a result of the lightning in episode 1 even though it was visible for so much of the chronologically given story before the lightning ever shot out.
It's the same issue with the Big Miracle idea. Maybe things can change retroactively, at least in some scenes, or it's the blend of the two or more theoretical drafts of the story.
...
Hairstyle Changes
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In the cuts that do not involve the camera seeing Crowley from the door to the room, Crowley's hair is stronger in saturation, especially to Crowley's right. The lighting in general favors his right. The top hair sweeps in more with a curl upward. Above Crowley's left area of his left eye and near his part for his hair, this top hair splits with only some in the front tilting more strongly to Crowley's right. That way, some darker hair behind it is still visible. The hair that stays closer to the left is the hair that briefly gets that brighter red streak.
Additionally, on the right side of Crowley's head, at least two tendrils take shape that curl downward, then upward.
The hair is darker and lacking in saturation for the cuts where the camera sees Crowley from the door to the room.
...
Earthly Objects
(For reference: Earthly Objects | Earthly Objects Study - Crowley's Sunglasses)
If you've read Part 2 of my Earthly Objects posts, a lot of the below is going to be very familiar with the main edit being that I am paying attention to the pockets Crowley makes with his left arm and when the Tied Hands are visible. Skip ahead if you like.
A fascinating example I've found of rule-following by Crowley and Aziraphale is when Muriel intrudes on them. I can’t fully explain the mechanics of the rules because like I said, I really do think Crowley is an expert at this game. Whatever is happening here is advanced stuff. I'm going to walk you through what he does to get this scene where it needs to go. He does it with style.
Before Muriel intrudes, Aziraphale had already made sure to have a cup of tea visibly touching his hands to start the scene in the room. Crowley poses to indicate he is touching a blurred stack of books in the room, even if Aziraphale's body obscures confirmation of that touch while Aziraphale closes the door. Crowley's left arm is shown as him placing a hand on his hip.
That pose creates a pocket with the left arm and torso. Crowley's legs make a pocket between themselves and the bottom of the screen. Both tie strands are visible, including to their tassels. Once that door is closed, the tie claps and tassels of the tie will not be visible until Crowley is about to hand over the keys. His Tied Hands might even retie when he's doing that. Next is the cut where Muriel's back is shown, looking in on the room; the Tied Hands are visible then too.
During Crowley's and Aziraphale's conversation, Crowley's right arm keeps telling us he's still touching that stack and not moving away from it. Blurs, I believe at this point, allow a pass, and so this one seems to be allowing some kind of pass and then hold so long as Crowley keeps at it.
The story lets him without confirming that is the touch on camera. We are never going to see that confirmation. He displays his left arm and even says, "One fabulous kiss, and we're good," as if that's a clue he is allowed that one time to show that one arm until a certain thing is going to happen. The number could be a dialogue point in whatever is happening here. That left arm returns to implying its previous touch as well.
Crowley has an earthly object prepared for the scene. He fully intends to give over those keys despite his grumbling. It might be very important that the car keys earn a specific point because they move the story along.
Ready for the pass, he has those keys in his left hand, skin contact and all, perhaps a little blurry on a camera from behind him, but still, he's got them.
Muriel opens the door, crosses past the threshold of this private conversation, and says, "All done?" No earthly objects. No hello. No knocking. We have an outright intrusion here! At least there was a question, but it might not have been enough due to what Crowley does.
Crowley pulls the keys back toward himself immediately. From the view behind Muriel, his pose is returned to match what it was when Aziraphale closed the door at the start of the scene even though Muriel's blocking the blurred stack of books. The left arm pocket is not clearly shown from behind Muriel, but preceding cuts made sure it was known to be there.
Aziraphale's frustrated because of the rules. Crowley is going to do several things to handle this situation.
First, Crowley smiles and answers Muriel, then asks Muriel about being interested in humans being in love. That’s a question. Then he even stops Muriel from saying names. He's saying the names himself, so his implied hold with both arms might be allowing him to keep dragging out a lot of the dialogue until he gets what he wants. Assuredly, Aziraphale seeming to get quite turned on by this talk is about the love, but he's also watching the master of this game at work.
Eventually, Muriel brings out a notepad and pen. That's two earthly objects. Between both Muriel and Crowley, that interaction meets the requirements, regardless of the initiating question from the whole intrusion. Aziraphale has kept quiet the whole time though he at least smiles. Crowley's left arm readies itself for what comes next. His right arm is still implying the touch behind him.
Muriel's eyes move their attention from Crowley to the notepad. Spanning only a few frames after this shift, Crowley's blurred hand shows the keys for the touch and tosses the keys toward Aziraphale. Without checking frame by frame, it looks instant based on the notepad, not the eye movement from Muriel. He knew exactly what he was doing. There is a slight possibility that secretly trusted friend Muriel was actually giving him a cue, but I lean more toward that not happening myself. However, I do have an overall bias toward Crowley.
Aziraphale manages the catch, thankfully. You can tell he was nervous and is grateful. He winks. That gives one point to him for the keys in his hand and another point for the wink as a self-touch since he’s a supernatural being holding an earthly object. The pair need one last point.
Muriel's attention remains on their notepad for the entire toss.
Crowley's right arm maintains its implied touch throughout the entire scene, even after the toss is done. He does one last thing to close it all out. He gives a sour grimace to allow his cheeks an active touch on his new sunglasses. At least, I think that's how the sequence is intended to be.
So, my current guess is that the scene is three different interactions. The first is between Aziraphale and Crowley. They already had their points but the story doesn’t want just points (or, as noted, the implied touch may have allowed some kind of hold). Those keys needed a relevant pass between these two players. Muriel’s intrusion reset things, so that another interaction of three points between Crowley and Aziraphale was necessary.
Crowley takes over to be the one character to interact with Muriel, get them their own points without involving the keys in this intentionally isolated interaction. His precise timing is impressive. Then there’s the third sequence covered above (keys, wink, grimace). To help keep these interactions separate, Muriel should not see the pass.
Now that I suspect Crowley and Muriel are actually friends, the intrusion itself might have accomplished something I will never truly understand.
...
Muriel is pocketed between the shoulder-angel and shoulder-demon when looking into the room. They make little pockets with their arms for that part too.
Muriel uses an actual jacket pocket to get their notepad.
...
Story Commentary
The story did not show a night pass between Episode 2 and Episode 3. For me, I would guess it's a new day because Crowley's stopped wearing his turtleneck even though he can manifest it or stop manifesting it whenever he wants. Otherwise, if one bothers with the clocks and the sunlight, that also hints that the day has changed. Another eventual hint is Nina's clothing has changed.
Even though this room is the most private setting we know of for Crowley and Aziraphale, Aziraphale makes a point of using the name "Jim" instead of "Gabriel," whereas he was perfectly fine with saying "Gabriel" out in the street in episode 2.
Aziraphale saying he told Gabriel that bookshops are always closed on a Wednesday then implies this given day is Wednesday. That action helps ensure, intentionally or not, that Muriel and Gabriel continue having no visible interaction during the story.
Crowley has his third of three scenes mentioning "train," meeting a Rule of Three even though the word is said 4 times total. The word "train" and these complaints will not be said again.
This scene has Crowley emphasize, "We humans of Earth..." as part of the context that allows the short sideburns and the face touch to the sunglasses.
It's also a general clue that the sideburns are short based on "human" context, such as the nature of his relationship with Aziraphale and that Muriel entered the bookshop with the literal word itself.
When Crowley says, "waiting for a few days," his left eye is more visible than usual from the given angle with the new sunglasses. He's either giving Muriel a clue that they have to wait for the two of them to meet up again later or is using the power of suggestion—not quite as strong as compelling—for Muriel to wait on researching human love.
Even though we'll see that Muriel questions Nina after this scene, they will actually relay what Crowley told them ("waiting a few days because humans are weird, and that's how it works") instead of how their actual interaction with Nina went.
I really like this scene.
...
Muriel
This scene with the keys is the front bookend to the Muriel scene with Nina. Aziraphale's scene with the car is the back bookend to this scene with Muriel.
...
That's it for this post. Sometimes I edit my posts, FYI.
...
Main post:
The Sideburns Scheme
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writtenbyaris · 5 months
Text
my creative writing process as a planner 🌟
the idea:
story ideas come to me at the most random and inconvenient of times. right before i fall asleep, when i'm in the shower, during my classes, etcetera. my main rule is to always write them down, whether it's in my notes app or a slip of paper or a journal... i'll forget it if i don't.
i try keeping it simple at this stage and not thinking too deeply about it, otherwise it becomes quite overwhelming. sometimes ¡'ll make a pinterest board depending on what the idea is. if it's more of an aesthetic, then i can make a moodboard out of it to help inspire me more. however, if the idea is a plot of some sort, that can be a bit more difficult.
character and world building:
this is my favorite part. once i have an idea set in stone and i'm ready to work on it, i begin building the characters and the world around it. i figure out the mechanics of the idea and how it can relate to characters and the world they're in.
at this point, i'm definitely making pinterest boards, playlists, and picrews to feel more immersed in the skeleton of the story.
i still keep it as simple as possible, and try to enjoy it. when i try juggling too many things at once, i end up wanting to abandon the project. slow and steady is the key for me :)
creating the story:
now we get down to what being a writer actually is.. transforming the idea into a story. i have to at least come up with one major plotline to start. i usually write in my journal during this stage, but sometimes i'll use notion to organize everything and keep track of it all.
oftentimes, the main plot will come to me when i'm working on character and world building. sometimes it's even the idea that first popped into my head. the story is usually influenced by dreams i've had, my own every day experiences, and other media i consume.
arcs, subplots, themes, etc:
this stage is for the smaller details that are vital for the story to flow and actually work. it's like a puzzle that's finally coming together.
for me, a story isn't a good one without arcs and themes, so those are of utmost importance. subplots are necessary to make the world more immersive, give readers insight on the characters, and keep the story naturally flowing. everything has to be woven back in to the main plot or idea, though.
i will say, this is the stage that tends to give me the biggest headache :P
zero draft:
jumping into a first draft as a heavy planner is too scary for me. so i came up with the idea of a zero draft. basically- zero expectations.
this is the backbone of my story. in this stage, i'm basically just taking myself through the steps of the story. i organize the plot and subplots into chapters, and with each chapter i go through all the beats of each scene. literally every. single. thing. that happens.
i don't usually include dialogue in this phase, but i do mention when a character will be in a conversation. all the focus should be on putting a needle and thread through the story and tying it all together.
first draft:
the first draft is somewhat easier for me because i do a zero draft. so, i know everything that will happen in a chapter and just have to utilize my writing abilities to make it rhythmic.
this is the first stage where i write dialogue, so it tends to be corny. a lot of my writing can be cliche and basic as well. that's what editing is for though!
i usually stress the most when writing my first draft, because it's the first time the story is actually being written in the format of a novel. by the end, it's not always very good either. but i do not look back at all, which means absolutely no editing until the first draft is finished.
and so on…
once the first draft is finished, then comes draft two. it's enjoyable to be able to read your own work all over again, though it's sometimes embarrassing as writing does improve with practice.
i focus on one chapter at a time-reading slowly, editing, filling in plot holes, fixing anything that changed later in the story. i try to catch as many details as i can.
usually, after as many rounds of editing one likes, the draft would be sent to an editor and beta readers. then i'd look into publishing companies (can you tell i haven't gotten to that point yet? lol)
are you a planner or a pantser?
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selene-and-the-cold · 8 months
Text
Taking a Ride (OCs, M/M)
Good evening, snzblr.
I successfully talked myself into fleshing out that Victorian carriage ride scenario a bit more. In a perfect universe, I would take enough time to make it the perfect fic. In that universe, I would write a first draft, then edit this, let it rest for a few more days, then re-edit, and edit some more until it was perfect, but since these past few weeks are the first time I've written anything in AGES and I don't trust this muse to be around forever, I am currently working on the premise: getting it done "ok" is better than getting nothing done at all.
Therefore, I do present the very fresh and un-beta-ed version of this little ficlet, featuring two spanking new OCs Silas and Albert, who did not exist 12 hours ago, yet here they are, making out in a carriage.
Thank you so much @empresskaze for solving my name-conondrum. I literally spent half the day not writing, but fussing over the name for one of the main characters and probalby wouldn't have gotten anything done if it weren't for your wonderful suggestion!
***
Taking a Ride
"Alright, but you've got to promise to be quiet, Bertie“ Lord Silas admonished, and was rewarded with another giggle from his dear friend the Honorable Sir Albert Percival Wardington. Perhaps they should have left their Gentlemen's Club one drink sooner when Albert had still been mainly sober. But it was no use lamenting now that the damage had been done and Albert sat opposite him in the carriage, all tipsy giggles.
"My coachman has excellent hearing, so we've got to be quiet to be discreet.“
"I know, I knowwwww, I'll be as quiet as a mouse, you can trust me, Sy, I promise!,“ Albert declared, then pretended to lock his lips with an invisible key, hiccuped and giggled once again.
“Alright, I believe you. You are in luck that I've been missing you so terribly while you were away on business in Cardiff, my dear Albert... Otherwise I might not have agreed to take you back to your town house in my carriage with me tonight.”
Albert sniffled thickly. “Mbuch obliged...”
“Ah, but I presume I have to come over to your side of the carriage, my dear,” Silas mused, “Otherwise this wouldn't be a true reunion, would it~ ?”
It was scandalous enough as it was that Albert was so visibly, undeniably tipsy, but now to be sharing his carriage with him, doing what they were... well... planning to do? Many a good God-fearing Christian matron would be utterly scandalised.
Fortunately, no good God-fearing Christian matrons were present at the moment, so Silas proceeded to sit on Albert's lap, straddling him, and holding his silken cravat as a kind of rein to keep himself steady.
„Now Bertie, that's much better, isn't it?“
Albert nodded, then sniffled suddenly and rubbed his nose against his palm before he answered.
"Mbuch better. You were so very far away all evening, especially during that awfully boring game of charades.“
"Alas, they assigned me to the other team or else we could have been seated next to each other,“ Silas agreed, making himself comfortable on Albert's lap. Albert grinned, his gaze only a little bit out of focus, then grabbed Silas' buttocks to steady him as well as to make up for all the time without the opportunity of touching each other. Silas gave a little high-pitched squeal, at which Albert tutted. "Sshhhhh.... you've got to be quiet, Sy, or your coachman will hear you! snfff Don't you remember?“
Silas playfully swatted Albert's shoulder at his reprimanding words. "Oh, you! Perhaps you should attempt finding a way to ensure that I'll be quiet from now on, then...”
"With pleasure,“ Albert murmured, his lips so close to Silas's that he could feel his hot, urgent breath crest against them. Albert smelled of brandy, lavender and sandalwood, topped off with some of the cigar-smoke that permeated the Gentlemen's club, and that special something Silas couldn't quite place, but that was Albert's very own scent, which reminded Silas of long walkds through the forest. In short – like a heady, absolutely delicious mix.
The next thing he knew, Albert closed the gap between them and kissed him passionately, hot lips burning against his, while Albert's fingers dug a little deeper into his buttocks.
Silas smirked into their kiss as he could feel Albert's reaction to his closeness grow underneath himself. It seemed that Albert could not restrain himself as good as he usually could while he was tipsy. Or perhaps Albert had missed him just as much as Silas had missed Albert.
“Careful, we cannot afford getting too carried away. You need to be in a state that allows you to leave the carriage as a respectable man once we arrive at your town house,” Silas admonished still the voice of reason despite how much he wanted Albert. It had been weeks since they'd spent a night together. Silas longed for Albert's familiar weight next to him in bed, but it was tricky to steal a night for themselves without it being too obvious. Fortunately, they were both bachelors, so there were only neighbours and servants to worry about, not wives.
“Mmhmm.. I don't want to be respectable,”Albert protested, sloppily kissing a trail down Silas' neck. “I want to be thoroughly wanton and outrageously indecent-...ehh....hehh... Heh'SSHHuH!”
Without much warning, Albert had sneezed all over Silas's neck, who sat stock-still for a moment, his pulse throbbing in his veins. Hell's teeth, this had felt surprisingly good.
“B- Bless you,” Silas stammered after a few moments, relaxing once more.
“I'b sorry...” Albert sniffled thickly against his neck, his voice sounding decidedly stuffy all of a sudden. “I think I caught a bit of a chill id Cardiff. It was ghastly cold 'n rainy while I was there.. Hehhh....ESSHhhTsshU! Ugh... pardon mbe.”
Another sneeze muffled right into Silas, who sighed in a sudden bout of pleasure, then pulled away afterwards to take a proper look at Albert's sniffly face. This close, he could see the dark circles under Albert's beautiful blue eyes, and the slight touch of pink around the edges of his nose.
“Mhm.. it seems you did indeed catch a chill, my dear Bertie,” Silas cooed, taking Albert's face in his hands to study it with more scrutiny. ”Judging from the way you look, it is no small chill, either... but don't fret, I'll keep you warm and distracted until you're home~”
With that, Silas tugged at Albert's cravat to reel him in for another kiss, deep and slow this time. A little voice in the back of his head told him that sticking his tongue down the throat of a sick man was probably not the best idea, but this was his Bertie, who had been gone for far too long and who was in dire need of some comfort, so sod all the qualms about getting sick as well.
The carriage rumbled over the cobblestone streets while the two men continued to kiss and caress in the back of it. Hands and mouths traveled through soft hair and warm skin, dipped under folds of expensive fabric to explore, tease, and tickle as the two men celebrated their reunion.
A few times, Silas had to shush Albert, whose usually calm demeanour somehow melted away in the throws of passion. So much so that Silas had had to resort to stuffing a cravat in Albert's mouth once before. Fortunately, no such measures had to be taken today, and Albert could be silenced by hushing and kisses alone.
As the carriage rolled over a particularly bumpy part of road, all the jostling created an interesting friction between Silas' and Albert's laps, their bodies rubbing delightfully against each other. Albert giggled yet again, then bucked his hips with Silas on top of him, before he asked with a most seductive little pout: “Dod't you think you could sndeak out of the carriage and come home with mbe, Sy? Just for tonight?”
Albert's voice was heavy with congestion by now, and he had barley finished his question, when a pitiful sneeze shuddered through him, sending both himself and Silas a little forward in his seat.
“Hehh'ERRrrSSHHU'!!!”
“Mhm, bless you again,” Silas purred, pulling a fine handkerchief from his suit pocket to dab at Albert's nose. It had started to run considerably at some point during their heated kisses, but there simply just had not been the right moment to take care of it. Silas had been far too distracted by Albert's hands, lips, teeth, and tongue all over him. Now that things calmed down a bit, Silas took a moment to take in Albert's features. He was quite pale, except for he wonderful blush that their shenanigans and perhaps the slightes touch of fever had painted on his cheeks. He looked utterly delicious and adorable and Silas regretted more than anything that he would have to decline.
“I'm afraid I can't, Bertie. There is an important meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning. My father wrote to inform me that he'll travel down from our country estate to meet me tomorrow morning. Apparently, he wants to have a word regarding some urgent business. I'm sure it's terribly boring, but I am obliged to attend.”
Being a second son, Silas mostly had the pleasure and leasure to do as he pleased. No one excpected him to marry and produce an heir. This was all taken care of by his older brother Reginald, thank God! In fact, no one expected anything much of him, but Silas was not the type of person to waste his life away in complete idleness, so he took an interest in the family affairs and supported his father and brother in running the family estate as well as managing their land and tenants.
“Besides, I do belive you should take some time to rest, my dear. If I were to join you, you'd surely not get remotely as much rest as this cold of yours demands.”
Albert pouted, then sniffled dramatically, congestion shifting audibly as he did.
“Promise you'll get plenty of rest tomorrow?,” Silas asked softly, cupping Albert's cheek. Their joined carriage ride was almost over as the carriage had just turned into Albert's street.
“Only if you prombise to visit mbe od mby sickbed as soon as that dastardly business with your father is done and dealt with.”
“I will, I promise,” Silas assured, then stole one last tender kiss before the carriage began to slow down.
The two men hastily smoothed away any signs of disarray from their clothes as well as their faces, so that Albert emerged a few moments later from the carriage with his usual mask of bland disinterest in place, seeming for all the world that nothing noteworthy had happened that night – except for a few too many drinks and the early stages of a terribly contagious headcold.
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whiskyanndboots · 9 months
Text
SNAP Summary- You’d never seen Dean so angry, especially at you and he was a pretty aggressive guy. Companion piece to Not A Fool & Part 2
Pairing- DeanXReader Warnings- 18+ only, swearing, canon divergence, violence.
A/N- This has been sitting in my drafts for many months and I thought I should just let it be, not edited, sorry.
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The hunt, in your opinion, hadn’t gone too badly, or rather as badly as it could have. Both of you were breathing and still in one piece so you couldn’t really say it was a total fail.
You thought back to the morning two days ago when you and Dean had driven out of Harvelle’s farm, the sun was out and Dean was smiling wide in the passenger seat making jokes to try and coax you out of your bad mood. You’d stopped for food as soon as you drove into town, Dean had practically waxed poetic about some Baconater burger he’d discovered on his travels, he’d been right too, you’d have dreams about that burger. Then it was straight to business to get the low-down on the deaths from the local cops, the case was a slightly confusing one, the timelines were off somehow, but neither you or Dean could put your finger on it.
You wondered now if Sam had been here instead of you if the surprise ambush would have been avoided.
Dean had kept good on his promise to let you take the reins and up until the point where you were being strangled by one of three serial killing spirits in an abandoned run down house in the woods, it had actually been fun.
It had been a nice reprieve from how things had been before you went to Harvelle’s. Dean had been different, more closed off from you then he had ever been, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.
You and Dean had fallen into friendship quite easily, well after the initial drunken come-on and subsequent rejection on your part. Dean had even taken you out to buy cassette tapes, on one of their visits to Bobby’s, when you told him you were thinking of putting something more modern than a tape player in the Chevelle. He’d been passionately against you screwing ‘her’ up and even more offended when you told him you’d never listened to any Motorhead or Black Sabbath. So off you both went into Sioux Falls to a small old school cassette store where he picked out a bunch of Dean Winchester approved albums while explaining why you needed them, no Led Zeppelin though since the store was out much to Dean’s dismay.
As Sam and Dean were packing up to leave the next day Dean had walked over to you a little sheepishly and handed you a cassette of his favourite Zeppelin album with orders not to break it or there’d be dire consequences. Sam had looked slightly bewildered so you figured this was not a common gesture from Dean.
After that day you realised you may have judged him a little too quickly, yeah Dean was definitely a womanising, whisky loving, charming goofball with a whole lotta baggage, but above all that he was undeniably a very good man.
You had since genuinely looked forward to the sound of the Impala rolling into Singer’s Salvage Yard knowing that you’d get to hang out with Sam and Dean for atleast a night, well if Bobby didn’t banish you on the grounds of ‘serious shit’ they had shown up for. You didn’t mind about that at all since you weren’t interested in getting involved in any demon or angel business at the time.
Alot of good that did now that Lilith was on your ass.
When Dean found out Lilith wanted you he decided to start treating you as if you didn’t have a competent bone in your body. He was harsher with you and you weren’t really in the mood for his bullshit considering you were still having a hard enough time accepting that you couldn’t just tap out when it got too scary now.
So you had enjoyed the shift back to the old Dean for the last 48 hours.
You glanced over at Dean who was driving your car, you didn’t think it wise to argue with how tightly clenched his jaw was, it was a stark contrast to the easy smile you’d seen from him as he sat shotgun on the way here. Dean hadn’t spoken to you since he half carried you out of the burning house. You pulled away the jacket you were pushing against the gash on your shoulder, blood had seeped through the fabric of your long sleeved shirt starting up near your shoulder and ending near your elbow, you could just see the nasty cut through the rip. You didn’t even know what slashed you, once you entered the rundown house in search of bones to burn, in the basement according to a bunch a traumatised teenagers, Dean didn’t even have time to fully open the door to said basement before the ambush began.
You traced your fingers over your throat , it was already tender to touch. The feeling of being strangled was fresh in your mind, the tightening of whatever the spirit had wrapped around your neck from behind pulling hard and lifting you off the ground, gasping for air and desperately trying to get your fingers underneath it to loosen it’s hold. You don’t think you’d ever been so scared in your life, that was the first time you actually thought your number was up.
Movement caught your eye and you turned your head to look at Dean, his eyes were trained on the fingers on your throat, you dropped your hand into your lap and his eyes flicked up to meet yours. You took a deep inhale at the anger in them, you’d never seen Dean so angry, especially at you and he was a pretty aggressive guy. He quickly looked back to the road, but you saw his hand tighten around the steering wheel until his knuckles were white.
You were at a loss for any reason he was so mad at you, you did everything right, yeah you set the entire basement on fire in a panic, but it worked. Your own anger was starting to build inside your chest, you knew what was waiting for you back at the hotel room, you’d be getting a lecture about how this is the reason you shouldn’t be hunting alone. Honestly you will be the first to admit you didn’t want to hunt, you were perfectly happy safe and sound at Singer Salvage answering phones while Bobby was out on hunts and researching lore from Bobby’s infinite shelves of books.
Finally Dean swerved into the motel parking lot pulling the car into a space infront of the room he made you share with him, despite your protest about wanting a double bed. Dean turned off the car with a heavy sigh. He licked his lips like he was gearing up to say something, he moved to face you eyes flicking between your wounds, his face closed off again suddenly and he was out of the car before you could speak.
You followed him silently to the door as he roughly unlocked it and pushed it open, you closed the door behind you awkwardly standing with your back to it still pressing your jacket to your arm.
“How bad is it?” Dean asked flatly as he sat on his bed.
“It’ll need stitches” you replied, your voice hoarse.
“Shower” Dean gestured to the bathroom door as he ran a hand over his face looking anywhere but at you. You didn’t answer as you grabbed your duffel bag and slammed the door behind you.
You balked at your own reflection in the mirror, you’d been through it alright, you looked like hell. You leaned toward the mirror to inspect the bruise that was already a dark purple around your throat and winced. You let out a long sigh and got to work on getting your shirt off, some of the blood had dried so not a pleasant experience.
The cut looked pretty gnarly, it ran from the top of your shoulder stopping about half way down your bicep. After your shower you went through your bag finding the only black tank top you’d packed and a pair of grey sweatpants, you blowdried your hair grateful the smoke smell hadn’t hung around, you tried to focus on the task at hand rather than letting yourself get worked up at the conversation awaiting you behind that door.
You finally had to force yourself to leave the bathroom, Dean was sitting at the small table in the room, he was holding a bottle of whiskey that you knew was much fuller this morning. Dean kicked a chair infront of him forward gesturing for you to sit. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch” Dean said as you sat down.
“I figured” You replied taking the bottle of whiskey from him and taking a swig, your face screwed up at the burn in your throat, but you took another for good measure.
He took the bottle back of you and placed the opening at the top of your gash, you jerked away as the liquid ran down your arm, holy shit it burned.
“Gotta stay still” Dean murmured as he picked up the needle and thread
You quickly pulled your hair aside staring straight ahead trying to make your body relax as Dean used his hand to move your left arm where he needed. You felt the cold tip of the needle press against your skin and braced yourself. Dean hesitated for a moment before breathing deep and pushing it in.
“If you need to stop tell me” This was the least monotone he'd sounded all night.
“Just get it done” You closed your eyes and tried to breathe deep, you’d sit through this in one go from sheer pride at this point.
“How’s the face?” You asked, he’d gotten a nasty hit to the jaw and a bruise was starting to darken across his cheek.
“Fine” Dean answered bluntly.
You breathed out a deep sigh, no conversation then.
The silence was making you nervous, the suspense of waiting for him to say something, anything was getting too much. You dreaded the argument the whole car ride, but now that you were getting the silent treatment you were ready to hash it out
“Done” Dean said throwing the needle on the table. You felt your body relax in relief, it was still throbbing like hell.
You turned your head, the bruise on his face was not fine it was spreading further by the minute, His expression was tense and his movements sharp. He pushed himself out of his chair and walked towards the small kitchenette grabbing his wallet.
“Dean" you stood to walk towards him, resigned to get him out of this shitty mood.
“Hungry?” He answered gruffly.
“Dean” You said again more forcefully.
“I’m goin’ to get pizza” he darted past you for the door.
“You gonna give me an ‘i told you so’ or not?” You ran a hand through your hair, you were getting bored of this already.
“What’s the point of that, huh?” He whipped around so quick you stepped back even though he was five feet away from you, you weren’t expecting him to raise his voice so suddenly. He’d spent the last hour quietly seething, now he was boiling over.
“Well, you obviously have something on your mind, Dean” you dragged your voice out provokingly.
“Damn right I do, everyone’s lost their frickin’ minds sending you out here alone, especially you! You just want me to sit on my ass at Ellen's until I have to come find whatever's left of you in some Podunk back road town?” He crossed the room towards you, his face dark, you could understand why people and monsters feared Dean Winchester, but you’d be damned if you backed down now.
You leaned back against the kitchen counter arms crossed tightly infront of you. Your arm was throbbing harder from the movement and Dean’s asshole mood was really pushing you to the edge of your patience.
“What the fuck is your problem?” harshly left your mouth before you could stop it.
“You know what my damn problem is, if you were on this hunt alone-“
“No” you interrupted loudly “not just today, I mean in general”
Dean gave you an incredulous look that finally set you off.
“Are you really gonna stand there and pretend like nothings going on? I’m not stupid Dean” You tightened the grip on your crossed arms trying very had not to raise your voice.
“(Y/N) i’m- ” Dean rubbed his fingers across his eyes.
“Because you’ve been pretty damn distant lately and call me crazy I thought we were friends” you pushed yourself off the counter closer to Dean.
“We are, that’s why i know you can’t handle this”
“What do you expect me to do, just stand there and scream? ‘cause it sounds like that's exactly what you’re asking me to do!” You were yelling now.
“I'm asking you to stay out of it, lay low and let us deal with it, this isn’t your fight” Dean was yelling back at you, you'd never admit out loud the shivers that went down your spine at the deep timbre of his voice.
“It is my fight, Lilith made sure of that”
“Well if your best is anything like tonight you’re going to get yourself killed!“ He roared.
“Do you think i want this? I wanted to go home, do you know how scared I am?” Your voice broke but, you were too angry to be embarrassed about it “I’m very aware that when she comes for me there’s no stopping her, but i’m atleast gonna go down fighting"
“What do you mean there’s no stopping her?” Dean snapped back stepping closer, his face incredulous and strained.
“It’s Lilith, no one can!” Your voice sounded half hysterical, Dean of all people should know this.
“Just do what i say and she wont get anywhere near you, stop making this so fucking difficult!” Dean’s was was getting more rage filled by the second.
“Oh, so your gonna protect me from Lilith, are you?” You replied raising your eyebrow. Dean’s jaw clenched, he was so close to you now you could feel his breath on your face “how exactly is that gonna play out? because from what i’ve seen every attempt to stop her hasn't worked” You yelled the last part so loud you were surprised at yourself.
“If Lilith wants you she’s gonna have to go through me and she ain’t gettin’ through me” Dean’s bellowing, deep voice echoed across the room. The resolute way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, his expression was wrathful. The full weight of those words hit you so hard you took a deep breath in surprise, it hadn’t occurred to you that Dean was willing to put himself in between you and the most powerful Demon they knew.
“I-“ You opened your mouth to respond, but a strangled, embarrassing, noise left it instead, you couldn’t think of a response with Dean’s determined gaze staring you down. You could feel the heat of his skin on your own, suddenly you felt much too close to Dean and needed to get space between you.
You didn't have time to put the thought into action before Dean shot forward pressing his mouth hard onto yours, his hands grabbing your arms. It only lasted a moment before he was pulling back and letting you go, he looked as surprised as you must of, only you felt yourself following his mouth, heat burning red across your face when you realised what you were doing.
You stopped yourself from following through, startled at your own reaction, but didn’t move back. Dean’s eyes bounced from your lips to your eyes and back again before he once again moved to fill the space between you, mouth pressing over yours.
There was nothing, slow or sweet about it, your lips moved against each other harshly, needy and wet. His hands were on your waist then sliding up your back pulling you closer until you were pressed together, you still felt like you couldn’t get close enough.
Dean pushed you backwards until your back hit the kitchen counter, his mouth left yours pressing opened mouth kisses along your neck, it was all too much, your arm was throbbing with pain, your chest was heaving and small breathy moans and whimpers were leaving your throat as his hands slid underneath your shirt.
You were pulling at his flannel wanting him closer while your other hand ran through his hair, suddenly you were moving upwards as Dean placed you down on the counter, he stared at you for a moment, green eyes wide and full of want before smashing his lips back onto yours, his hands were back caressing a path up your spine while you held his jaw in both of yours.
Your shirt was being roughly pulled off, your arms suddenly over your head as his gaze took in the sight of your breasts, you hadn’t even bothered with a bra after your shower. He swiped his thumb over your hardened nipple making your body jump at the spark that traveled down to your core, his eyes flicked up to yours dark and needy as he kissed you again, softer than before. He moved his lips back to your neck as his one of his hands cupped your breast, he was driving you crazy. You pushed his flannel off his shoulders and yanked at his black t-shirt until he lifted it over his head.
A noise pierced through your clouded head, a phone was ringing. You turned your head to look to the side until you saw your phone lighting up on the kitchen table, before you could put together a cohesive thought Dean’s hand grabbed your chin and pulled your face back to him, tongue diving into your mouth.
His arm circled around your back and lifted you off the counter until you were pressed tightly to his chest, his skin against yours made you gasp as he let out a deep moan into your mouth, your legs tightened around him holding on. Your head was foggy, you don't think you’ve ever wanted anyone more than you wanted Dean right now.
He ducked his head down flattening his tongue across your nipple, you threw your head back and buried your fingers in his hair as he started sucking, too much, too much but still not enough. You’d never been kissed like this, never been touched like this before. He was so strong and broad, his arms full of muscle, he made you feel safe and warm.
“Dean” your voice sounded hoarse and breathless.
He dropped you down to the counter still pulling you close and making sure your skin was touching everywhere.
“Never thought you'd let me do this” He breathed between wet kisses “Never thought you’d want to”
“I do” You gasped desperately reaching for his belt, he let our a noise almost like a growl and grabbed at your sweatpants and underwear pulling both of them down your thighs at once, you were aching for him, you couldn't wait anymore.
Suddenly he was gone.
Dean had moved back and slammed his hand on the counter beside you before stalking across the room to a bedside table, to his phone.
That’s right your phone had been ringing, now Dean’s was.
“Ellen” Dean answered his voice annoyed.
Ofcourse, you hadn't told anyone you were both fine. A long deep breath filled your chest as you slid of the kitchen counter, knees almost buckling. You pulled your sweatpants back up, Dean was watching you closely still talking to Ellen chest bare and belt undone, you swallowed hard wishing he'd hurry up.
You were kicking yourself for not calling Ellen when you got back, she'd be worried sick by now, Bobby and Sam would be convincing themselves it wasn't silly to drive out here, Jo would be climbing the walls just like you would be if she was out here.
Cold, hard dread washed over your body like ice.
Jo.
You had promised Jo nothing was going on with you and Dean, that you didn't see him like that, you had promised it wouldn't be a problem and she had told you it didn't really matter, but you knew it did.
You told her to go for it and she'd shoved you away cheeks going uncharacteristically red and told you Dean didn't see her like that.
You told her he'd be crazy not to and she'd looked hopeful. She'd said "Sometimes I think he might, but there's always something in the way.
"Just....long day" Dean was saying to Ellen.
Dean was watching you, eyes roaming over your naked chest, swollen lips and surely messy hair. You covered your breasts with your arms feeling very vulnerable all of a sudden.
Dean was going to come back over here when he hung up that phone and you knew if he touched you again you weren't going to be able to stop this deep aching from taking over.
You saw the phone fall from Dean's ear almost in slow motion, already stepping back towards you looking purposeful, like he knew exactly what he wanted.
You darted for the bathroom door slamming it closed behind you and almost falling over in your haste, you couldn't do this. Not to Jo, not after you told her you didn't see Dean like that, told her to 'go for it'.
She trusted you.
"(Y/N)" Dean knocked on the door.
"I... I just need a minute" You called back panicked.
"Are you.. you okay?" Dean sounded worried.
"I'm fine" You moved to look at yourself in the mirror.
You looked ravished, your cheeks warmed with colour at the sight of your swollen lips and flushed skin, you covered your breasts ashamed with yourself.
You sat down on the toilet, head in your hands taking deep breaths, How did this happen?
You never thought Dean would want you like this, you couldn't say you hadn't entertained the thought. When you'd met Sam and Dean you'd had plenty, but after Dean had come onto you after one too many beers at Bobby's you'd rejected him and his invitation to be a notch on his bedpost.
If anything you'd thought your only chance with a Winchester was Sam, you got along wonderfully, but even that was a stretch, you never thought you were Sam's type let alone Dean's.
Men like Dean Winchester didn't want girls like you, they ended up with strong women like Jo. You were the girl who stayed on the side lines and did research, you weren't brave, you were terrified half the time.
Your not sure how long you sat there contemplating your betrayal until the sound of the hotel door closing brought you back to reality. You listened for movement for a brief moment before slowly opening the bathroom door. The hotel room was empty, Dean was gone.
You picked up your tank top from the ground, pulling it over your head as you walked to the window, pushing the curtain aside. The Impala was still parked there, no sign of Dean.
You weren't really sure what your next move was here.
It was surely going to be awkward conversations and half hearted embarrassed smiles from now on. Maybe Dean wouldn't even bring it up again, maybe once his head had cleared he'd realised this was a mistake too.
Maybe you wouldn't even have to talk about it at all.
You turned the TV on to distract your wandering mind, it had been probably half an hour before you heard keys in the door. Your body tensed and your heart started racing, but you remained sitting casually on the chair.
Dean walked into the room holding a pizza and a six pack, he stood there awkwardly for a moment like he was unsure if he should come in.
"Great, i'm starving" You smiled up at him willing yourself to be normal.
Dean seemed to relax a bit and moved to join you.
"Hope you feel like plain ol' pepperoni" He said while opening the box and grabbing a piece before thudding back into his chair and cracking a beer.
"What did Ellen want?" You asked while picking up a piece of your own.
"She was just checking in, got worried" Dean answered, the pizza seemed too thick to swallow.
You ate in silence for a while, pretending like everything was fine, just like you wanted. Naturally Dean didn't let things lie.
"Listen (Y/N)" Dean spoke with a sudden confidence as the credits for whatever sitcom was on started rolling on tv.
"Dean, can we not?" You pleaded turning to look at him imploringly.
"I don't really want to do this either, but I think we should clear the air" He answered.
"It's fine Dean" You replied lifting the side of your mouth in a small, reassuring smile.
"You locked yourself in the bathroom" He replied taking a sip of his beer not making eye contact.
"I just, I just didn't want to do something while things were....heated that we'd regret later" You couldn't even look at him while you said it.
"Regret" Dean mumbled looking down at the floor.
You were so bad at this.
"Dean, you're my friend, I hope you are anyway" You frowned, Dean looked up over at you surprised.
"Ofcourse I am" He looked half pained.
"Can we just pretend this didn't happen?" You begged.
He was quiet for too long, staring at you with that wounded look you hated.
"Sure" He took a long swig for his beer before wiping his mouth and standing.
"Going to grab a shower and hit the hay, long day tomorrow" He continued while grabbing his duffle-bag and closing the bathroom door behind him.
That had to be done, it was only ever going to be sex with Dean, you wouldn't risk your friendship with Jo for one night with Dean Winchester.
Being the one on the otherside of a locked bathroom door was oddly lonely.
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