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fuckyeahgoodomens · 9 days

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The PledgeManager has launched!

Thank you for bearing with us. We’re happy to say that, as promised, the PledgeManager has officially launched!

In case you missed it, we detailed earlier this week that the publication of the graphic novel has been pushed back from its original July 2024 estimate into Spring 2025 - you can read the full update here. We also want to take a moment to say that we have seen the outpouring of love and support on Kickstarter, and across various platforms, wishing Colleen well in her recovery and the time needed for the graphic novel - a huge thank you from all of the team for your understanding and patience, and for the genuine community and care we’ve seen these past few days. We appreciate you all.

PledgeManager

With this in mind, we think it’s important to underline: though PledgeManager has launched, you do not need to pay for your shipping fees immediately.

The PledgeManager is there for those who missed the campaign to order the graphic novel, and indeed for any backers who would like to upgrade, get some other add-ons, or the new items. You, as a pre-existing backer, should receive an email with information via Kickstarter and/or PledgeManager to inform you that this is now open to you - note, these are sent in waves of smaller batches, so if you don't get yours immediately, don't panic! It will likely take between 12-18 hours to process all the backers.

You are, of course, welcome to pay your shipping right away if you'd like, however we completely understand that you may want to wait until closer to the fulfilment time, or when more solid dates are confirmed, before actioning this.

For this stage, we have compiled a quick FAQ below covering some key questions:

Will the whole project be moving from Kickstarter to PledgeManager? No. This is just for the fulfilment side and logistics - all updates will still remain here.

Do PledgeManager backers get everything that Kickstarter backers do? No. While the remaining tiers will be made available for those who missed it, with certain stretch goals (e.g. additions to the book, loot boxes, etc), Kickstarter backers have a number of exclusives such as the Good Omens HQ discount code for when the store launches, and the backers only events.

My PledgeManager address will be different to what is listed on my Kickstarter. Is that fine? Yes. We are handling all logistics through PledgeManager and, as such, that is the only place where we will need your address. If you move or need to change any details, that will be the place to do so.

Can I change my address? Yes. You can update your address until we are at the shipping stage. We will keep this option open for as long as possible to ensure maximum flexibility around this.

How are shipping fees calculated? It is based on both weight and the country it is being sent to. We have been working over the past months to streamline processes and bring the costs down from their original starting point.

Do I have to pay just now? You do not need to pay immediately, but payment will need to be made prior to your items being shipped. You now have a bigger window during which you can make payment. As above, we will keep updating you on the progression of the publication schedule, should you be waiting for firmer dates before doing so.

What about taxes and import duty? UK: VAT is included in the costs UK backers pay, there should be no extra tax charges. US: We believe (but cannot guarantee) that imports under $800USD in value should not attract import duty, those pledges above may be taxed at import. EU & REST OF THE WORLD: If taxes or duties apply to your pledge, these will need to be paid at time of import into your country. We’ve spent months trying to integrate the costs at this stage, but in having the project open across the globe, it has proven too complex to be able to fully refine and cover all instances and locations, and we’ve been advised that this is the best route forward. We know a lot of international backers, particularly in the EU – for example – will already be used to this process, and we will keep you all updated on any developments on this front. For all of our backers, we are working hard to make labelling and declaring all of the contents of your pledges as transparent as possible, in order to make taxing and importing as easy and affordable as possible.

I want to buy the new items, but am waiting to pay shipping. Are they limited? The pins, mugs, notebooks - all the new items specifically added to the PledgeManager are not limited and will be available regardless of whether you get them now, or months down the road. The only limited items are the remaining tiers that have moved over from the Kickstarter (e.g. the Obsidian Tier) that were limited to begin with, and a very limited run of the Alien Parking ticket. Everything else is fully available, in perpetuity.

Will you be adding extra items to the PledgeManager? No. What is there at launch is all we plan to include at this point - any new items afterwards will instead originate via the Good Omens HQ store.

Will Kickstarter backers get items first? Yes. We will have a staggered approach for fulfilment: Kickstarter backers, then PledgeManager, then everything that is moving to the Good Omens HQ store will subsequently be made available.

You can also view the more general PledgeManager FAQ at terrypratchett.com.

We will keep PledgeManager and logistical notes present in all the monthly updates going forward, but felt this warranted a dedicated one-off.

These are available as part of the PledgeManager. Another beauty from our pin designer, Carl Sutton.

Thanks again for your patience. Back in the April monthly update.

In short: :)

The Good Omens Pledge Manager has launched:

those who missed the Graphic Novel Kickstarter: Now you can order the Graphic novel, not all things that were in the original Kicstarter are available but there is stil a lot of options and fuckton of lovely ineffable add-ons! :)<3

those who participated inthe original GO GN Kickstarter: you should an email (Dunmanifestin needs more information to fulfill your reward) with a link that logs you (if not log manually) into the pledgemanager and lets you edit the order (add new add ons) (yep, my wallet weeps :D<3)

The addons:

I mean... how can one resist for example these I do not know... :D

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #graphic novel #graphic novel kickstarter #merchandise #good omens merchandise #wahoo!

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clockwayswrites · 3 months

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Not So Imaginary

Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6Parts 7-8 WC: 1177

“I brought you some more books to read,” Jason said as he entered the room.

After Danny had shown that they were clearly a person (a kid at that) and answered a few questions, they had been moved to an actual room on the Watchtower. Jason was pretty sure part of it was how he refused to leave the cell until Danny was moved, but he didn’t really care as long as it got his friend safe.

Danny looked up with a grin. They were pretty solid today, sitting cross-leg on the bed with feet and everything.

“You’re back,” the artificial voice spoke out from the tablet like device in Danny’s hands. It was a version of something called a SGD, Bruce had said, and was used by people who had trouble with verbal sounds. They didn’t know if Danny would always need it or if they’re vocal cords would come back as they continued to solidify.

“I am. B said I could stay a whole three hours today too as long as I ate a snack while I was here,” Jason said, holding up one of the bags he had.

Three hours still wasn’t a lot, but it was better than the one it had been the rest of the week. It took a lot of begging, but B finally agreed that Jason was well enough for a test to see how it went. Danny was still draining life force from Jason, and only Jason, which made certain Leaguers nervous about letting the two of them close. Jason had done everything he could to let it happen: he’d begged and argued, he’d eating everything Alfie wanted him to, he rested whenever Bruce wanted him too which was all the time, and he even agreed to stay benched for as long as it took.

That last one had really helped convince Bruce and Dick that Jason wouldn’t back down from helping his friend.

“Good. I am happy. What do you have?”

“You liked the Hardy Boys, right? I have a few more of those and I found you some science mags you might like,” Jason said as he flopped onto the bed next to Danny. He could feel the odd tingle travel up his arm as he leaned into Danny.

“Thank you,” Danny said with a wide smile. The tone of the electronic voice didn’t match the brightness of that smile, but it was alright. Jason could also feel how happy Danny was.

“You’re doing okay?”

“Yes.” There was a long pause as Danny found the right words. They were pretty quick already with preset phrases, but odder things still took longer than regular talking would. “WW took me to observation deck. We watched stars. She told me stories of stars from her home.”

“Yeah?” Jason asked, trying to keep his voice from hitching around the word. He couldn’t bug Danny with that yet. “You like her? Wonder Woman?”

“Yes.” The reply was quick, but Danny was watching Jason with furrowed brows. They pushed a sense of question through their bond.

“I’m fine. Just thinking through some shit,” Jason said with a wave of his hand. “But Wonder Woman is really cool. She’s my favorite too.”

Danny set the tablet aside so that they could run their fingers through Jason’s hair. It felt odd, what with not all of the fingers always being all of the way solid, but a good sort of odd. It seems Jason couldn’t just Danny’s concern aside.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

Danny let out what for anyone else would have been a sigh and gave a little nod. They shorted through the bag of books Jason had brought and found a Hardy Boy’s to hand over to Jason.

“What me to read to you?” Jason waited for the nod. Apparently it was really important to let Danny choose things right then, or so the adults said. “Okay, move over a bit, yeah? You’re hogging all the bed.”

Danny placed their hand to their chest, face screwing up in an affronted expression. It didn’t work though when Jason could feel the amusement through their bond.

“Yeah yeah, I’m a brute, now shove over,” Jason said with a laugh. He worked his way up until he was lounging against the head of the bed.

Danny didn’t move.

“You’re a brat,” Jason accused.

Danny gave a silent laugh, humor bumbling up in their bond, before they flopped over right onto Jason’s chest. Jason let a huff of a sigh, but ran his fingers through Danny’s hair like he knew they liked before he opened the book to start read about another adventure of the Hardy Boys.

It was easier to feel the drain like this, when they were so close to each other and touching. Jason had tried to avoid spelling that out too much to Bruce. He got that his dad was just worried, but he was afraid if B knew he’d tried to keep Danny away.

As it was Bruce was trying to send Danny away.

Jason brushed the thought aside, focusing on doing his best to give the characters good voices for Danny. At least it was a distraction from all the rest of Jason’s thoughts. Two chapters later the stopped to ask, “Want a break or do you want another chapter?”

Danny rolled over and off Jason’s chest to flop onto the pillow next to him and Jason froze. His shock must have been clear because Danny scrambled up off the bed until they were floating above Jason.

“No! It’s a good thing. Just… you’re getting some of your color back,” Jason explained. He should really stop staring. He should take Danny to a mirror to see or something, but it was just that… Danny was beautiful right then. He found himself reaching up to brush his finger tips of the bright freckles that were scattered across Danny’s cheeks and nose like a galaxy of stars.

Bright teal eyes blinked back at him.

Jason cleared his throat. “Right, sorry, let’s go let you look.”

Danny floated to the side, landing on their feet as Jason stood, and followed behind behind to the small attached bathroom. Jason guided Danny in front of the mirror. White was spreading into their hair now.

For a moment Jason was worried that Danny was frozen in shock, then the other leaned in close to the mirror, touching the surface before bringing their hand up to their own face. Suddenly Danny was moving, spinning weightlessly around Jason as they gave a soundless whoop.

“I know,” Jason said with a grin of his own. “Look at you! You’re really coming together now! I knew you could do it. I knew that you could come back.”

Slowly, Danny drifted back down so that the tips of their toes brushed against the floor. They rested their forehead against Jason’s.

He didn’t need words to understand what Danny was trying to say.

“Don’t have to thank me, stardust. I’ll always come for you just like you’ll always come for me.”

--- AN: Oh ho, is Jason starting to realize he has a crush? And what isn't he telling Danny? Hopefully this part is good, the weather is giving me such a migraine/making me super dizzy so my eyes are crossing some! (Yes, I'm resting, on the couch with a cat!)

I really should have made an update post for this... this supposed ficlet just keeps going! 7K now! Aaaah well. Anywho, stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #dead on main #not so imaginary

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betterbooktitles · 2 months

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"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.

Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.

Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.

While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.

Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."

Consider subscribing to the Screen Time newsletter.

Other articles include:

An essay on Claire Dederer's book Monsters and movies made by monsters.

Writing inside a Toyota Service Center.

Writing mistresses.

#writing #essay #essays #lit #literary #funny #lol #drugs #books #humor #reading #better book titles #dan wilbur #bibliophile #pot #d.a.r.e #just say no #comedy

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lazywriters-blog · 3 months

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QUIET + QUIET = NAUGHTY

YANDERE ALHAITHAM

Summary: Alhaitham used to be your mentor, and after leaving him behind and pursuing another career, he finds a way to bind you to him. [This was sitting in my drafts for so long that I decided to just publish it so if it's bad, my bad lol.]

Warning: This may contain triggering content, read at your discretion. Implied rape, forced pregnancy, and manipulation. Alhaitham is a piece of shit in this-

You had a dream that didn't feel like one.

Your mind is clear and you remember something was amiss the night you fell asleep, so you are certain whatever glimpse you recall was truthful. You could never imagine yourself having a wet dream about someone you disapproved of.

Despite the man's appearance attracting you to him, there's just something about him you don't like. Perhaps sitting here and watching him read his book made you a crazed fangirl, but you were a decent human being with decent expectations.

And alhaitham was one exception you'd avoid till the end, even with the tolerance level you had, he went past above and beyond that.

Seeing him so far away from you felt odd, having a realistic dream was different but feeling it and knowing you felt it was different! You couldn't make up such fantasies even if you wanted to. You did not invite him into your dreamland and never would, he's the type of man with stoic feelings and selfishness with good reasons for it.

You also had a hate-love relationship with the scribe, he's an asshole who nagged you to do everything perfectly when you were in front of him and made you feel unqualified. You'd admit you weren't good, but the humiliation was taking it a bit too far when he'd speak loud and clear for everyone to hear and think about it.

You aren't a failed test subject to show.

Nonetheless, you had forgotten about it and moved on to a better place in life, so his abrupt existence was cutting it too close.

But, trying to talk to him just seemed wrong. Comforting him seemed childish, and unnecessary when you could live on with the fact you had a wet dream about him, but past that, he's close to an enemy to you.

He closed his book and settled it on the table, folding his arms and glancing straight toward you, so he knew you were here. Copying his position you glared, feeling something nasty within you grow and you had no shame in expressing that to the man.

Grinning wide, you tilted your head and quietly mouthed 'Fuck you.' briefly pulling up your hand and pointing a middle finger, throwing him one last look you got up and walked away.

If that incident earned you a bad reputation, you knew exactly who was behind it.

The next sign you discovered that your dream wasn't as fake as you made it out to be, was when you woke up nauseous and threw up, you figured it was a mash of bad food combination that made you queasy.

And denial was hard, how were you going to explain it even if it was true? 'I think it has something to do with the wet dream I had with my enemy and I think I'm pregnant?' just thinking about it you feel delusional you couldn't fathom how crazy you would sound to the others, you weren't lost in the head.

You had your toes on solid ground and weren't making stuff up on thin air, nor because you were living alone and thinking having a new member would cure it.

You'd never be that desperate.

"You are showing clear symptoms of pregnancy." He's saying it and you don't like the tone of his voice, he's saying it to get revenge for your past interaction, you are sure.

"Your skin is glowing, and the bump you are trying to hide isn't doing much," he added, like salt to a wound. You forced a smile, thinking to yourself that staying indoors today would have been so much better than facing him in all his selfish glory.

"And would you happen to know who did it?" You sniped back, "How do you even know that I've gotten fat unless you've been watching me, pervert, learn to lower your eyes."

"It shouldn't take a genius to know that a woman is carrying a child. It's a blessing you're hiding."

"You're saying it as if it's your child." she would know after years of suffering under him, that he would make her the fool and him the trustworthy one, and she didn't want to give him a chance. So if he wants to play dumb, she'll cut him open.

He chuckled, a rare gesture from him she saw only once, "Should we have a paternity test?" why did he sound so smug and certain?

"Is this your indirect way of saying that I'm crazy? That you impregnated me?" he stayed quiet and satisfied, all the trouble he was causing her and the damage it would bring to her reputation was unnerving, he was doing it on purpose. She was sure!!

"You are a monster." She could strangle him right now if they weren't in public.

He smiled, not breaking eye contact and continuing to maintain it. "Who would believe you?"

#yandere imagines #yandere #yan yan #yandere drabble #yandere oneshot #yandere alhaitham #al haitam x reader #alhaitham #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #al haithem #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines

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ramons-elevator · 10 months

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Bad mentioned on his stream that all the dead eggs lives impacted how different we treat the eggs on the server and I realized that EVERY egg death changed history on the server and how we treat the eggs.

Juanaflippa- Obviously her second death made everyone very weary with the beds (and the admins bc i believe they made the beds harder to break). But her third death with sweeping edge and how everyone needs to be careful around the eggs with swords.

Tilin - Their death kinda goes hand in Juanaflippa about how NOT TO USE SWORDS around the eggs. But also Charlie went into eggxcile because of Tilins death and that snowballed into Gegg. Also helped with Luzu’s character and how he switched to Arin and with the computer/Code.

Chayanne- Technically chayanne lost their first life to neglect BUT the nightmare Phil, chayanne, and Tallulah had i believe introduced ‘nightmares’. Also it made the admins disable some born in chaos mobs and made Philza even more paranoid about the island than he already was.

Bobby - his death was the first permadeath we had since the trio died. It hurt a lot and made Forever realize that his death could have been prevented. Thus making Forever build the Ninho and make everyone very cautious of everything.

Ramon - same with Chayanne’s were his first death was to a Blaze but his nightmare was significant. It made the admins make solid ground rules about certain things and make sure everyone knows the rules about reinforced bases.

Leo- Her death with whales made everyone realized how fucking beefy and super dangerous the whales are. Also that you shouldnt just AFK anywhere. That you should try to be in a safe place before AFKing.

Dapper - His first death was SUPER significant. It made people realize that the code is learning and adapting. Thus made Bad, Forever, Cellbit, and Etoiles go to Luzus computer and explode it. Which lead to Forever getting pieces of the computer and getting the motivation to try to bargain with it. Which lead to Cellbits betrayal and enderchests getting banned. It also gave the most insane book by Cucurcho which is “Perfect for you or for me?”

Richarlyson- His first day nightmare gave us that the eggs have first day immunity. Then his actual death showed us that uhh fuck bulls and that Mike blames himself for Richas death to this day. Also gave us Imortalyson and kinda Richarlyson’s mindset of ‘fuck it we ball’. All he has ever known is one life.

Trumpet - THE MOST IMPORTANT DEATH ON THE FUCKING SERVER HOLY SHIT. Yes Trumpet died from neglect but his death lead to the Theory Bros. For those who dont know, Bad went to Maxs house to comfort him about Trumpets death and one of the ways he tried to get Maxs mind off of Trumpets death is talk about how weird the island is. Thus Bad and Max theorizing about the island and the rest is history. Also it lead to Max and Bad interacting more and kinda making Max talk to more people around the island.

Tallulah - Her nightmare with Phil and Chayanne has significance as stated above. But her death with the Code is significant because it was the first time Forever saw an egg’s death. It deeply upset him and made him a lot more serious about the eggs. Also again made Philza more paranoid.

Pomme- She hasnt died yet but her nightmare I would say is pretty significant. Kinda with Ramons nightmare, it helped give the players, admins, and audience some more rules on things and what the admins can/cant do. It also made everyone realize “Holy shit theres a weapon that does 50000 damage and will one shot you and destroy your armor” which is terrifying on its own.

Everything is so significant on this fucking island and every egg is extra significant to this island. No death is taken in vain. They truly shaped the island and everything we know about it

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp chayanne #qsmp trump #qsmp trumpet #qsmp tilin #qsmp tilín #qsmp bobby #qsmp dapper #qsmp ramón #qsmp ramon #qsmp leonarda #qsmp juanaflippa #qsmp tallulah #qsmp pomme #qsmp richarlyson

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cameronspecial · 3 months

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I Will Try Something, Rafe

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Suggestive

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Y/N just finished a romance book and now she wants to recreate a scene from it.

A/N: This is inspired by A Million Kisses In Your Lifetime by Monica Murphy.

Masterlist

Rafe loves it when Y/N reads romance books. It always gives her and him ideas to incorporate into their own love lives. He has fallen victim to scrolling through BookTok and Bookstagram looking for new reads for his angel. Y/N even started using sticky tabs in her books to mark certain places during her readings for Rafe to look at later. Once she leaves the book on his side of the bed, he’ll flip through the pages and take note of everything she wants him to be aware of that she likes. Y/N’s recently read A Million Kisses In Your Lifetime and she wishes to bring one of the scenes to life. While Rafe is at work, she gets everything set up for what she has planned. The room is lit only by the candles she bought for this occasion. She looks down at the white button-up shirt of Rafe’s that she threw on and smoothes it down. The rose petals on the bed are arranged perfectly. She has all of her lipsticks on his nightstand and she can’t wait for her fiancé to come home.

The front door yawns and his strong steps reverberate around the house. “Angel, I’m home. Where are you?” he screams out into the seemingly empty house. She calls out to them, “I’m in our bedroom, Rafe.” She fluffs her hair up and her eyes widen, noticing that she forgot makeup wipes. She swears up a storm, running into the bathroom to get them. Panic fills her as Rafe’s footsteps approach their room. She scrambles to get back to her bed but slips as she crosses the bathroom threshold and flops onto the solid wood floor with an oomph. Rafe’s gaze is first on the decoration of their room, which is a little more romantic than when he left this morning. His eyes land on his angel on the floor and immediately rushes to her side. “What happened? Are you okay?” he worries, helping her up. She pouts a little, “I’m fine, I just slipped. I am disappointed that I ruined the surprise.”

He chuckles and kisses her forehead, “Don’t worry, you could never ruin anything. I love all this. Whatever it is.” She relaxes against the feel of her lips. “I finished my book. I want to replicate something,” she whispers to him. Rafe nods, “Of course, what do you want me to do?” She doesn’t reply with words as she guides him to stand with her. He observes as she silently unbuttons his shirt. His feet shuffle against the floor and she pushes him onto the bed. They scoot up so he is sitting against the headboard and she pulls his shirt off his shoulders with a kiss to his collarbone. “Pick a colour. I will try something, Rafe” she instructs him, holding out her hand to display all of her lipsticks on the bedside table.

He smirks and dangles his hand over the selection before choosing one. He uncaps the lid and brings her closer by her chin. The waxy material of the makeup glides against her lips. Once he is done, he tries to lean in to give her a kiss, but she stops him. It is his turn to frown and he watches as she leans down to leave a lips-shaped stain on his pale skin. The vibrant red he picked out stands out like a gaping wound. She leans back and uses a wipe to rid the colour of her lips, gesturing for him to pick another colour. He does so and they repeat the action over again. They spend the rest of the afternoon painting his skin with her lip prints of different colours until he has a heart over his left pectoral muscle. She looks at it with satisfaction and takes out the Polaroid camera he bought for her. She brings it to her eyes, pressing down on the button. The shutter tells them that she is successful in taking the picture and they both watch it print out. Rafe takes it in his hands and brings her down to lie on his right shoulder. The photo develops to reveal her hard work. “This is my new bookmark,” she announces to him. She sets the picture on her nightstand and he flips so he is hovering over her. He uses one hand to unbutton the shirt of his that she is wearing. “Now, it’s my turn to this skin red for my own bookmark, Angel,” he informs, diving into a passionate kiss.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife

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sophieshyacinthgarden · 25 days

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If You Loved Me You’d Share Her

Relationships: Predefined Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Steve x Bucky, Reader x Steve x Bucky

Summary: You wake up to you, Steve, and Bucky’s shared home exhausted after a long night of activities with your boyfriend. His best friend has certain remarks to these acts. And soon you’ll find out maybe three isn’t a crowd despite what everyone thinks

Warnings: Smut, dubcon, threesome, cream-pie, voyeurism, and double penetration

It was a typical summer morning in your lovely home. You were lounging out on the small patio, reading a book in the sun. Your boyfriend’s best friend, Bucky, was in the kitchen, making breakfast. While your boyfriend, Steve, had just came back from a morning run, pushing through the door as he untangled his headphones from his ear. You watched as Steve walked over to see Bucky flipping pancakes and then, moving to step out onto the balcony towards you. “Morning, sweetheart.”

“Hello, darling,” you reply, closing your book shut. You loved how Steve looked in the sunlight, he resembled an angel, glorious and strong. Every muscle, perfect facial feature highlighted by the golden light. He nodded his head towards you signaling for you get up.

You get up from you lounge chair and Steve takes your place. He’s motions for you sit in a spot between his legs and happily do as he tells you. Your heart jumps a bit as Steve’s hands move to your waist, pulling you into him more. “Did you sleep well?” he presses his lips to your hair, his breath ruffling the strands.

Bucky was humming some light tune that you didn’t recognize as he carried a plate of breakfast out onto the balcony for you both. It was filled to the brim of pancakes covered in golden syrup with a side of colorful fresh fruit. You think back to Steve’s question,”I’d say so, but I’m in incredible pain from last night’s… activities.”

Your boyfriend’s best friend smirked a bit at the insinuation. Steve, however, just tilted his head to the side,”Activities?” He tried to keep his voice neutral but failed, a smirk growing on his lips despite his attempts to remain serious,”Were you out late last night with someone else?” He couldn’t help but reminisce about the way your body moved below him last night, the way you’d moan his name, tug on his hair…

“You know exactly what activities I’m going on about? And the only on at fault is you,” you say pointing at his chest.

Steve’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his smirk remained. Bucky knew exactly what you were implying, and he wasn’t going to make it easy for you two. He simply laughed a bit, setting the plate of food onto the balcony railing,”You two were a bit loud last night, you know.” Steve shot him a look, but said nothing in response. His gaze remained on you.

“Yeah well not only does Stevie have stamina for days, but he has some big personality traits due to that super soldier serum, if you know what I mean,” you tell the two men,”And I’m sure you do too Buck.”

Bucky choked on a laugh. Steve rolled his eyes, and tried to ignore what you had said previously. “We were loud?” He repeated, before adding, “We weren’t that loud-“

The other super solider was still snickering, but stopped after he saw Steve’s look. Your boyfriend then turned back to you, his hands going to your hips. “Were we really that loud? Are you complaining?” Steve asked you wondering if you don’t like how loud you two tend to be in the bedroom.

You laugh slightly,”No I’m not complaining, I love it when you do that to me. And I love all those sweet sounds you make too.”

Bucky laughed again, before saying, “You know what else was loud?” Steve rolled his eyes again, but didn’t really push the conversation, instead looking at you for your response. He ran his hands up and down the sides of your torso, moving them over the top of your legs.

“What was loud Bucky,” you ask him, slightly grazing Steve’s thigh. Steve slightly tensed at your touch.

Bucky grinned slightly as he said, “Your screaming.” Steve didn’t let it get to him, but there was a slight change to his expression that caught your attention. Bucky gave him a look, as if he was expecting a reaction.

“Why did you wish you were the one making me scream like that?” you ask him a smirk on your face.

If there was one thing Bucky enjoyed, it was torturing Steve on an emotional level. Hearing this only made the smile that had been playing about his lips widen a bit. Steve was starting to get irritated, though he hadn’t said anything just yet. It seemed like he was trying to stay calm in order to keep you from enjoying this. Bucky then asked, as he started to slowly move his hands up Steve’s thigh,”Are you jealous?”

Your breath hitched slightly at seeing the way your boyfriend’s best friend was touching your boyfriend. “Maybe,” you choked out.

Bucky smirked. “Only maybe?” he teased. Steve rolled his eyes again, trying to keep a stern look...though it was very obvious that he was at least a bit hot and bothered. He was still being careful not to let his jealousy show too much, but the slight tension in his body said more than enough.

“Okay, I am,” you say stroking Steve’s growing bulge in his pants.

Buck then leaned back against the railings. He was still grinning at the tension he was setting up between the two of them.

Steve’s eyes went wide when you grabbed him by the bulge, and the tension turned into nervousness. He looked down at your hand wrapped around him for a moment before his gaze returned to you. “Are you…” he started, but then cut himself off as he felt the jealousy in him begin to fade, replaced by an intense lust.

His friend grinned, moving his other hand to grab your thigh as well. “What if we give you a repeat of last night?”

“I think that’s the best thought you’ve ever had,” you say. You shift in your seat and straddle Steve who began to blush immensely. You grind onto his crotch searching for friction, you moan at his bulge brushing against your clothed folds. You had just gotten up so you were wearing nothing, but a short nightie and panties, a decision that you were proud of making.

Bucky began to grow hard over the sight of you and Steve dry humping. He palmed his growing tent becoming impatient,”Keep going.” You moan at his words. Your panties feeling soaked leaving Steve’s running shorts wet with your slick.

“Can we please take this to the bedroom,” you ask,”I want to feel both of you.” Both soldiers moan at your words.

Steve stands up and picks you up from around the waist,”I thought you’d never ask.” Bucky follows you two absolutely ecstatic for what was to come. Your boyfriend opens the door of your shared bedroom and lays you onto the bed’s satin sheets lightly. The two super soldiers stare at you with a hunger like lust that you’d never had been able to imagine.

Bucky looks at Steve as though he was asking him permission to touch you. Steve didn’t answer with words instead he simply nodded. Bucky ran his metal hand up your leg approaching your inner thigh. His thumb slightly grazed your soft panties causing you to moan. The cold sensation made you buck your hips towards his thumb.

“Now, now don’t be needy,” Bucky teased. Delicately he moved your cotton panties to the side and plunged his digits into your tight pussy. You began to moan, your folds enveloping his fingers. He began with one and moved it around feeling your gummy walls.

He wanted you to be prepared for his cock so he added another two fingers. It was different than Steve’s. With Steve his fingers were hot and soft while Bucky’s were cold and rough. He curled them causing you to buck your hips up towards the ceiling. “Bucky,” you moaned out. You felt a warm hand pull you down. You look up and were greeted by your boyfriend’s blue eyes.

“God, you’re such a slut. Getting all wet around her boyfriend’s best friend’s fingers as he watches. I bet you like this don’t you, me watching you, it turns you on you little whore,” Steve tells you. You were taken aback at his words. Never in your life had Steve called you such filthy names. You assumed Bucky had brought this dirtier filthier version of your boyfriend.

You came close to you climax when Bucky pulled out his fingers. You moaned at the empty feeling, upset that you had missed your climax. “Let me cum please,” you beg him.

Bucky shakes his head,”You’re not cumming until this pretty pussy is wrapped around both of our cocks,” you sigh,”Now strip for us.”

You carefully untie the bows of your nightie revealing your white lace underwear. Steve lunges towards your pussy and grabs your panties by his teeth. He drags them down your legs carefully and putting them in his pocket. He takes off his shorts as well as his running shirt leaving him only in his boxers. Bucky follows his impression and does the same.

Bucky reached behind your back and unbuckled your bra. He grabbed your right tit in his hand and squeezed it. Steve reaches for you left tit and begins to kiss around your nipple. He grabs it into his hand and puts in his mouth causing you to moan. The hot and cold feel from both boys causes you to feel overwhelmed in the best way possible. Both boys begin to kiss their way across your boobs and eventually meet each other halfway. They face each other and began to kiss passionately.

Steve palms Bucky’s dick and they make out in front of you. You whine desperately,”Please let me in.” They look at your desperate cries and chuckle.

Bucky pulls down his boxers and pushes he down to the bed. His length is unbelievable, he’s thick and girthy with a pointy tip. “Okay, Angel this is it,” he says. Tapping his dick towards your entrance, he becomes consumed by your folds. You begin to groan as he pushes his way in.

He’s thicker than Steve yet not as long, but he still fills you out in all the right ways. Slowly but surely he gets a steady pace slamming in and out of you. Steve approaches you from behind unclothing his cock. His length despite you seeing it a ton times is still impressive. Long and veiny everything you would need a cock.

Steve approaches your other entrance preparing himself. He enters quickly, making you hitch your breath. The two soldiers kept slamming themselves into you causing you to moan out their names. The boys met over your shoulder and made out passionately your hand becoming wrapped around Bucky’s hair. Bucky’s hand immediately went to massaging Steve’s ass.

You feel your climax coming and you moan as the knot in your stomach is undone. Your fluids enveloping the boy’s cocks. Soon you feel the hot strings of their cum fill your belly. “Fuck,” Bucky moaned out.

The three of you fall collapsed to the bed feeling tired and fulfilled. Steve got up and got a towel from the restroom so the three of you could clean up. He grabbed you and Bucky’s hands and lead you to the bathtub for relaxation. “You know we should do this again sometime,” Steve asked the both of you.

“I agree,” Bucky said smiling like a maniac,”If you’d loved me you’d share her.”

You look up at them and smiled,”Ditto.”

It’s safe to say that from now on you and Steve’s nightly actives will have a third member.

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etoiile · 5 months

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MYSTERY MAN

starring itoshi rin!

synopsis: you decide to go watch rin's football practice for the first time, much to his delight. his teammates struggle to figure out who you are and what you've done to their usually very grumpy rin.

requested by @checkoutmyflow! i hope i did your rq justice ^^

notes: first time completing a request! sorry for the wait >.< ALSO this is gn!reader :)

admittedly, you weren't much of a football fan, even though your boyfriend was a professional college player. you didn't really understand the sport, as you hadn't played it since second grade gym class, but for some reason, you had decided that today, on this sunny tuesday afternoon, you were going to drop by rin's practice alongside a football-for-dummies book to watch and hopefully learn a little about the sport he was so enamored with.

it would appear that they were in the middle of a practice match, as his teammates and him were wearing different colored pennies, and there was someone keeping score on a whiteboard.

you sat down on the bleachers quietly, not wanting to distract anyone from the game. your eyes scanned the field quickly, almost instantly finding rin's unique dark green hair. you tried your best to keep up with what was happening, quickly flipping through your book whenever someone did something cool to try and find it, but it proved to be quite difficult, and you found yourself very confused at the sport's intricacies.

despite your lack of understanding, the one thing you could observe and comprehend was how alive rin looked whilst playing. he was sweating, shit-talking, and scrambling around the field non-stop, clearly very tired, but his eyes had a certain glimmer to them that you didn't get to see often, and he moved around the field with immaculate grace and precision. you watched as he skillfully maneuvered around the field and how he seemed to be able to calculate exactly where his opponent would go. you didn't have to understand the sport to know that this field was a place where itoshi rin shined like no other.

rin took hold of the ball and began dashing across the field with it, his shiny hair blowing behind him. his eyes began darting around the field, his brain taking in and calculating every factor necessary to victory.

his brain certainly didn't expect to see you, his lovely s/o who knows nothing about football, sitting on the bleachers.

your eyes made contact for a brief moment before rin tripped over his own feet and flew forward, making literally everybody on the field stop what they were doing.

a brief moment of silence washed over the field before laughter soon took its place, his teammates jogging over to him asking if he was ok, and what the hell just happened as they howled in mirth.

he grumbled some excuse with red cheeks as he looked away, clearly very mortified. his coach decided to call a break, seeing as everyone had already stopped playing, and he grabbed his water before practically sprinting over to you.

"y/n," he breathed as he came to a stop in front of you, puffing a little from fatigue. "you're here."

you giggled. "hi, rin. i thought i should come watch one of your practices. i want to get to know all the aspects of your life, after all."

he leaned in closer to you to brush his hand against yours as you two chatted a bit. anyone could see the way his eyes softened as you spoke and how his shoulders relaxed at your every move. anyone even being his pretty-damn-stupid team.

in the distance, bachira, isagi, chigiri, nagi, and reo murmured amongst themselves, wondering about who you were - the mystery person mr. im-better-than-you-and-grumpy-all-the-time rin looked so happy to see.

"his sibling, maybe?"

"nah, i'm pretty sure sae is his only sibling."

"oh! what about his parent, then?"

"dude, do you have eyes? way too hot to be a parent."

"his lover, maybe?"

there were a solid 5 seconds of silence before they burst out into laughter once more.

"get out. itoshi rin, an s/o? no way in hell, dude."

"i doubt he could even keep anyone for more than a month. they'd get tired of his attitude real quick and leave just as fast."

"rin-chan probably isn't capable of loving anyone, after all."

despite their adamant denial of your relationship with rin, they could all notice rin's demeanor. he looked happier, more at ease, gentler, kinder, and overall, he looked like a normal person. who were you, and what had you done to their rin?

coach blew his whistle, and they watched as you gestured for him to get back with his team. they then watched with their jaws on the floor as he, itoshi rin, POUTED and SWEETLY PLANTED A KISS on your forehead before jogging off.

they all exchanged looks of pure shock as rin jogged back to them.

they all gave him a shocked look as he raised a brow.

"...what?"

𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 ©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍

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avatarmerida · 1 year

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Found this deep in my drafts. I know we’re all trying to avoid spoilers rn so here’s some lighthearted silly human realm huntlow to distract us from leaks and such. There’s no plot, just Willow after dentist ✌️

———

“All right Willow, sweet heart, you’re gonna sit out here with Hunter while Amity has her turn, okay?” Camila said as she guided Willow to a seat beside Hunter in the waiting room. The night before, Luz had shown the girls what rock candy was and while she was at school, certain incidents had taken place resulting in an emergency trip to the dentist.

Hunter had offered to accompany them, hearing the word ‘emergency’ and shifting into solider mood. Camila assured him there was nothing to worry about, but she realized that after the visit she may need help keeping the girls intact as they may feel rather... loopy.

“How was your trip to the human tooth healer?” Hunter asked, extending his hand to help guide Willow to her seat.

“It was... bright,” she stumbled a bit before plopping on the couch beside him, staring at the ceiling as though she was hypnotized. “Woah.”

“Are you feeling okay, Captain?” Hunter asked, following her eyes but seeing nothing to warrant a reaction. He had peeked into the room where they had taken her and where Amity was now and saw a collection of small weapons lined the table. He trusted Camila and knew she would never put any of them in harm’s way, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly concerned, given Willow’s current state.

“They needed to look at my teeth closer because of reasons and I think they thought I was gonna bite them so they gave me a potion to make me not bite,” she explained, barely understanding what they had done even when she wasn’t under the affects of anesthesia. “But I can still bite, see?” She demonstrated by moving her mouth and biting the air.

“What kind of potion did they give you?” Hunter asked.

“I dunno but I felt this way the last time, the felt last time I- Ugh,” Willow tried to compose the sentence. “The last time I felt like this, Amity had set my mind on fire.” She finally managed to say calmly, despite Hunter’s immediate reaction to the subject matter.

“What?” Hunter exclaimed, closing his book. “Why would she do that?”

“Secrets,” Willow whispered, pointing to her temple. “To hide the secrets hiding in mah mind.”

“Well that’s not what’s happening now is it?” asked Hunter, worried and having little knowledge about what a dentist actually did .

“I don’t think so...” said Willow, placing her hands on her ears seeing if she felt the heat she had felt then. “Oh no, what if my secrets all fell out? What if I lost them?!”

“Well, can you remember them still?” Asked Hunter, feeling as though the situation was dire, scanning the floor for fallen secrets (whatever those were supposed to look like).

“Are you trying to find out my secrets Hunter?” She said, squinting her eyes at him and growing more loopy as she slowly swayed side to side in her seat.

“What? No of course not, I-.”

“You think I have secrets about you,” she giggled, twirling her finger in his face before gently booping his nose, then adding in a hushed dramatic whisper. “Because I doooo.”

“Y-you do?”

“Yup,” she she said, popping the ‘p’ and making herself laugh even harder. “Yup yup yup.”

“Well if you can remember them then that means they’re-.”

“When you came to Hexside, remember that?” Willow asked, her tone calm once again as she traced the pattern on the chair with the tip of her finger. “When we first met the first time? Remember?”

“Yeah, I do.” he said with a laugh, feeling confident her ailment wasn’t as dire. Willow suddenly was hit with a fit of bubbly laughter that she tried to suppress and Hunter found himself joining her, the laughter contagious. She motioned for him to come closer and he cautiously obliged as she leaned over and rested her chin on his shoulder and sighed.

“I thought you were cute,” she whispered her secret directly in his ear, cupping her hands around it so it couldn’t escape.

“Oh? R-really?”Hunter stammered, clearing his throat. “Are you sure you-?”

“Oh, wait wait oooh,I love it when you do that!” She squealed, placing her hands on his cheeks and squeezing his face.

“Do... what?” Hunter said the best he could, his mouth squished.

“When your face turns all red like that!” She said as though she was marveling at some great stunt. “And it reaches your ears. It is veeeery cute.”

“You... notice that?” Hunter asked nervously, hoping the obviousness has been all in his head, knowing this happened often around her .

Willow nodded vigorously, so quickly she made herself dizzy. “Woah, why is the room spinning? Hooty what did you do?”

“You did say the potion they gave you was pretty strong maybe you should take it easy,” said Hunter, his concern for her outweighing his embarrassment. “Are you in pain at all?”

“Nope,” she said shaking her head, but once she started it was like she couldn’t stop and she shook her head even faster. Hunter reached out to stop her, worried she’d make herself dizzy all over again.

Successful in his efforts, he suddenly realized his hands were on her face. She stopped and looked at him with bright eyes as though this has been an attempt to gain her focus. If his face was red before, he could only imagine how it looked now.

“Um, do you want me to get you anything?” He asked as he went to remove his hands, but before he could she placed hers over his to keep them there.

“Do you wanna know another secret?” she whispered dramatically, and Hunter swore her eyes were sparking.

“Um, maybe now isn’t the best time,” he chuckled nervously. “I think this might be the potion making you say all these things and I don’t want you to feel embarrassed when it wears off.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” she insisted. “It’s about you.”

“Okaaaaay ha ha,” said Hunter, quickly removing his hands from her face and placing them at his sides. Had she found about the grimwalker thing? A nasty rumor from his Golden guard days? Did she think his haircut didn’t actually look good? “What about if we watch something on the television box?”

“No, no you were reading and then you stopped cause I came in,” said Willow dramatically. “You should read again. I’ll be quiet.”

“Did you... um... I can read to you if you want?” Hunter offered bashfully, thankful she has seemed to dropped her desire to discuss her secret about him. “It’s just a book about wolves, so if you don’t want to-.”

“Oh please please please,” said Willow excitedly, placing her head back on his shoulder. “I can turn the pages for you.”

“Are you sure? I know my voice isn’t-.”

“I know how to turn pages, Hunter.” She said, playfully rolling her eyes and making herself more comfortable beside him. “Tell me the secrets of wolves.”

“Okay, well let me go back to the first chapter,” said Hunter, trying to downplay his excitement that can out whenever wolves were involved. “There are some really cute pictures of baby wolves, look!” He turned the book towards her so she could see. When he went to observe her reaction, he found her eyes were not on the book but were locked back on him. He held her gaze for a moment before turning his attention back to the book. He could feel her eyes still on him, but he pressed on to begin reading.

“I still think you’re cute,” she whispered, loudly enough where it was clear that she wanted him to hear but softly enough that he could pretend he didn’t hear her, just in case it truly was just the potion talking.

#huntlow #winter toh #toh #the owl house #willow park #hunter toh

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trulycertain · 4 months

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I couldn't help wanting to write something ridiculous with spawn!Astarion learning to turn into a bat. And then I got thinking about how the tadpole nerfs spawn powers. AU, post-canon, Tav/Astarion. About 1.3k?

Lora's feeling out a new riff, trying to work out if there's enough of a solid foundation for it to become a song, when there's a thunk and tinkle from the kitchen.

Shit.

She sneaks through, knowing that Astarion's probably doing the same, if he's all right. If he's not… best to take in the situation.

A vase rolls past her through the doorway. There's a small flappy sound, like someone's just pulled a sheet of leather taut. What -? An undead, perhaps? She pokes her head round the corner.

There, sprawled on the kitchen countertop where she normally chops vegetables she'll be the only one eating, next to a fallen jar of herbs, is a bat. Big, albeit not as gigantic as some she's fought who turned out to be vampires in disguise; still, it's got an impressive wingspan, one of them hanging off the counter like a curtain. Or, she thinks, absurdly, the way Astarion likes to dramatically hang an arm off a fainting couch, while he's reading a book. He'll not be impressed by that comparison.

Her unexpected visitor is albino, and… fluffy. Really fluffy, chest like the world's smallest thick fur rug, or like it's got a little proud collar. Small, clawed feet are sticking inelegantly in the air, not quite spread-eagled (spread-batted?), as if it's going to try and jump back onto them. But who's heard of bats standing?

…Unless it's a vampire lord. But there aren't any of those after them - well, not anymore. And they're usually better at the whole bat thing. Less of crashing into Astarion's favourite vase.

How in the hells did it get in? It's not like she left a window open; both she and Astarion are a tad too paranoid for that.

It's not dead, at least: its chest is moving furiously. Makes sense. Bats are smaller, probably with a faster heartbeat. If it's in pain - well, she hopes it's not in pain.

She's got no idea how to escort it off the premises. It's not that she's got a problem with bats - more that she's certain neither she, nor the bat, signed up for this. An angry wild animal? She has visions of it hanging from her finger by its teeth. Though honestly, she had a similar vision with Astarion, and things turned out pretty well there. But they're only borrowing this place for a while - she called in a favour. That favour probably didn't include bat tenants.

Edging closer, she notes that it doesn't seem to be moving. Knocked itself out? Oh, that's not ideal. Though maybe she can sneak it out before it wakes up… No, from what she can see - one red eye - it's just staring at the ceiling. Almost glumly, if a bat can be glum.

And then it spots her, and… lifts its wings to hide its face. In embarrassment.

White fur. Red eyes. The way he looks when he's caught between trying to brazen it out or stalking off to hide his cringing.

“...Astarion?”

Its - his ears twitch, and he raises a wing, holds it there. The way he'll raise a hand in acknowledgement and Don't even say it.

She blinks, and whistles a few notes, hits a high C - there. Speak with animals. That should do it. “Are you hurt?” she tries; it’s been a while since she’s done this spell without a lute.

“Only my pride,” he mutters, mulish and with the slightest nasality - makes sense, between a flat snout and fangs. “I think your basil came off worse than I did.”

She stares. Definitely strange, hearing that familiar wry voice come out of a bat. “What happened?” He’s normally so pretty - the kind of pretty he endlessly preens about. The pinkness of his nose is oddly adorable against white fur, but she suspects he’s ended up as a vampire bat. Apparently, vampire bats look like they’ve crashed face-first into a wall. Which he most likely has, but she suspects that’s no explanation for the horseshoe-shaped nose and his little squinting eyes. It's sort of cute. If you're very, very drunk. Or if you're overly fond of a grumpy vampire.

“Nothing we need talk about,” he says hastily. He rubs a thumb over his face. “I’m sure I’ll work out how to change back in a moment.”

“You’re not stuck like this, are you?”

He casts a narrow look at her with those blood-red eyes - different, and yet so very familiar. “Darling, are you saying you wouldn’t love me if I were a rodent?”

“Astarion.”

He stretches a wing experimentally: pale, thin skin and white fingers. “I don’t… think so. There’s already a sort of - itch under my skin, like I just have to yawn hard enough and, pop. But first, I need to brood.”

“I thought only Cazador could turn into a bat.”

“Into a cloud of bats, my dear.” He gestures at himself with a folded wing, more stiffly than his usual - difficult, when your arm doesn’t bend the same way. “Do I look like a cloud?”

She can’t help her grin at that. “I don’t know. You are all white and fluffy.”

He sighs, loudly. When she reaches out a slow, careful hand, however, he doesn’t move - even in this form, he’d dodge. Or she’d get an annoyed warning nip for her trouble, she’s sure of it. Fangs are second nature to him. As is how to be gentle with them, by now.

She says, “I love your ears.” She strokes a fingertip carefully over them; they twitch underneath it. “Look at the size of them!”

“Ugh. If you’re about to make an elf joke, I have one word of advice for you: don’t.” It’s deeply surreal watching a bat roll its eyes.

“I wasn’t! Is your hearing better like this?”

“Much.” He makes an expression that’s probably meant to be a grimace, but on a slightly squashed bat-face, it’s not so different. “I can hear the tavern three doors away. Their bard isn’t nearly so good as you.”

She strokes between his ridiculous rabbity ears, just with a finger, lightly; big as he is for a bat, he’s so tiny. Even tinier than usual. She'd hate to hurt him. “Have I mentioned I love you?”

“Yes, yes, I know you’re weak to flattery.” But there’s warmth in his voice.

“Do you want to hop up? I feel like you won’t want to turn back into yourself on the counter.”

“Please. That test flight - flights, really - was exhausting. No-one warned me there would be so much flapping. I thought creatures of the night would be fonder of a smooth glide, but no.”

She holds out an arm - and then there’s a bat clinging to her woollen shirt with thumbs and little claws. Clinging being the operative word. He climbs up her a little uncertainly, holding tight while she stays as still as she can, until he arrives on her shoulder, flopping there with a dramatic sigh.

She heads through to the lounge, and beside her ear, a small voice says, “I’ve been able to do… more, since our wriggling little unwelcome passengers were removed. I don’t know if it’s that or simply not starving. Honestly, I thought the bat thing was a myth. For spawn, anyway - we get the rather inferior part of the ‘vampire powers’ arrangement. But the claws have come back, and the agility. I’ve never felt so strong. It’s… strange. And a little intoxicating.” She can’t quite raise a brow at him when he’s so close to her, but he clearly gets the idea, because he adds hastily, “As in, I’m rather happy. Not as in ‘I’m about to become a cackling vampire lord.’ We’ve... covered that one already. It’s more - is this what it’s meant to be like? Being a spawn? Not a starved slave?” His voice is soft, with a genuine, non-snarling curiosity to it. A little amazement. She feels him shuffle just a bit closer to her, wing curling a little around her back.

Sometimes he doesn’t like to be touched when he’s thinking about the bad old days, but this clearly isn’t one of those times. At that, she has to sit in an armchair, and reach up, offering a hand to her shoulder. He clambers onto it, with the kind of instant trust that makes her chest ache - though he does give her a puzzled look while he shuffles about to get comfortable and sits on her knuckles. He folds his wings neatly, primly, in a way that’s so him she’d laugh in any other circumstance. She sneaks over her other hand and strokes his pointy pale head, runs a soothing couple of fingers over his back. She feels sad for him, but also, Lathander, he’s so fluffy. She could happily do this for a while.

The flap of wings startles her. What - ?

Being hugged by a bat is more like having a very strange necklace. One that hooks its thumbs into the back of her shirt collar, accidentally tugging it wider, ears twitching against her neck in a way that’s almost ticklish, tiny heart fluttering against her collarbone. She holds him there with a hand, thumb stroking through his fur. He murmurs, “I just wished, and this time…”

The smallest cloud of mist blooms. She blinks, and the world is suddenly rather heavier. It could be the rogue sitting side-saddle in her lap, his arms around her neck, grinning at her. He blinks in a little surprise.

“...there I was. Hello, darling.” Leaning in, he brushes a swift, smiling kiss to her cheek.

She reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, the way she knows he likes even if it ruins his pomade. “You were very cute.”

“Of course I was. I was adorable.” He winces. “Aside from looking like I’d run face-first into a carriage.”

“You were cute!”

“Hm. Good for scouting tucked-away places that the owners don’t want us to be, however.” His happiness takes on a fiendish edge.

“You’re going to pick locks with your little thumbs?”

The idea seems to delight him rather than offend. “Once I learn how? Absolutely.” He swoons dramatically, leaning back over the chair arm. “Now, darling, I find I’ve utterly run out of energy.” He darts her a look from under his hand. “It must have been the transformation. I don’t know if I can even find it in me to stagger to bed.”

She raises a brow. “Really?”

“Really. I’m just… utterly drained. It’s a mystery.” He holds his arms out. “Would you mind?”

While she’s carrying him through to her room, she says, “I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh?” he asks smugly, arms still wound around her neck. “And what’s that?”

“You’re going to pull me in with you.”

Pouting, he says, “How dare you. I’ll have you know I’m an honourable man. Well. I'm a man.”

“You’re going to pull me in with you and make me cuddle you to sleep.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds disgustingly juvenile. True, but juvenile.”

“This was easier when you were less than a kilogram of fur.” Not that she minds him being a bit heavier. It’s a relief, compared to how bird-boned he sometimes felt under all the muscle in the early, hungry days.

“I can fix that.” There’s a tiny poof! and then… a self-satisfied bat fluttering awkwardly to sit on top of her head.

She reminds him, “Watch the hair while you’re surveying your kingdom.”

“I could get used to this.”

“I’m never getting used to this.”

#batstarion #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #Astarion #BG3 spoilers #bg3 epilogue spoilers #My fic #lora mctavish #Stupid ridiculous fluff (and I don't just mean how fluffy he is)#baldur's gate 3

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bugmomwrites · 1 month

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Weary

Dr Flug x Reader

Stealing my sister’s bf’s HBO password is the second best thing I’ve done this week. Whipping up a solid drabble in 30 minutes and refining it into a whole oneshot in the same night takes first place.

There’s like, one innuendo towards the end but everything else is straight up fluff. Story came to me after reading yet another shady thing a certain airline I won’t name did, but it sounds like “we ain’t going”. I am changing the names so I don’t end up dead in a van somewhere, but if you know you know ;)

—•• •—• ••—• •—•• ••— ——•

“…And then what happened?”, Flug yawns, looking up at you through his goggles. You smile gently, kissing the front of the bag where his forehead would be.

“Well, according to some sources…the former production and safety manager’s exact words were ‘if anything happens, I didn’t do it myself’,” you respond, reading the article off your phone. Using the same soft voice you use when you read picture books to a sleepy 505, except it was a news article turned Wikipedia rabbit hole.

You two had gone from listening to him explain the differences between a 767 and an Airvan, to him resting his bagged head in your lap as you click on various entries and articles, bouncing information back and forth. The person, a known whistleblower who had retired from the controversial airline a few years ago, had tried many a time to draw attention to the company’s shady practices. For him to die so suddenly, especially as more inside secrets came to light, was too fishy for the public to ignore.

“I’m no detective, but…”

“Assassination?”, you finished for him, raising a brow. The two of you exchanged knowing looks.

“Does the Dreamweaver have flexible wings?”, he grumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist to bury his head further into your tummy. It tickles, but you try not to laugh lest you disturb his rare peace. Moments like these didn’t happen often, and you knew if any of the others were to see you like this, Black Hat would tear you both a new one, and Demencia would never let you hear the end of it.

A few more minutes go by, occasionally filled in with fun facts about the company’s various other incidents that had made the news in the past. You click off of yet another one where a plane was literally falling apart mid-air, having to make an emergency landing in a massive blaze. That was enough internet for today, at this rate you’d never want to hop in a plane again. You carefully set your phone to the side after checking the time.

“If I were him, I wouldn’t have let them get me.”

“I know, Flug.”

“And I would have documented everything.”

“Mhm”, you rest a hand on his back, your own eyes growing heavy.

“I’d go down there and put them back together myself. I’d personally take all of their shitty scrap parts, and make a better airplane than any of those so called professionals,” he says disdainfully.

You smile as he heaves a long sigh, like the weight of the world rests upon his weary shoulders; which isn’t far from the truth, if the way Black Hat nags him and Demencia torments him on a regular basis is any indication. Not to mention raising a son/care bear/science experiment through it all. But even if it’s not quite the whole earth, at the very least it’s the whole company. Everybody ought to give him more credit, himself included.

“If anybody could do such a thing, I know it’d be you, Flug. You’ve always had a brilliant mind.” He hums softly at the praise, feeling quite chuffed to know that at least someone in the manor besides his own son appreciated him not just for all he does, but who he is.

It’s quiet again for a few moments as he drifts in and out of consciousness, your hand gently rubbing his back until he speaks up again a few minutes later.

“And I’ll make you my co-pilot.”

This takes you by surprise, the hand rubbing his back stopping briefly as you let the words settle over the two of you. Reading between the lines was something you found yourself doing almost as often as reading his expression through his paper bag, the man still not quite comfortable enough to outright say all the things he’d had bouncing around in his head to you just yet. Your hand resumes as you test the waters, stuck between delicate hope and fear of possibly scaring him off.

“I…don’t know how to fly a plane. Nor do I have a pilots license.”

“Me neither, but I’ll show you how to do it in the cockpit. I’ll make sure you have a smooth ride for your first time.”

A pregnant pause falls over the both of you, and your whole face heats up, mind processing his words only to take a nosedive into the gutter. You open your mouth to respond only to be met with quiet snores from below, Flug blissfully unaware of the effect of his words.

‘Looks like the week finally caught up to him’, you think. Odds are he might not remember something like that when he woke up, but you could tease him about it later on. For now, you stretch your arms over your head and attempt to make yourself as comfy as possible without disturbing him, sleep beginning to overtake you as well. You glance down once more to where he dozes peacefully for the first time in years, committing it to memory before joining him in slumber.

“Buenas noches, Flug.”

—•• •—• ••—• •—•• ••— ——•

#bug mom writes #dr flug x reader #dr flug #villainous #reader insert #villanos #Villianous x reader #505

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sanjis-moulinrouge · 7 months

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Unplanned Rescue

Sanji x reader | Fluff

Summary: The reader goes out to explore a village but inopportune events happen and needs to be rescued.

a/n: I needed some fluff and cute interactions, hope you like it. English is not my first language, so my apologies if something sounds unnatural.

cw: mild swearing

During the first weeks you’ve built a solid friendship with Usopp and Nami, the reassurance they offer you makes you grateful to have found them under past difficult conditions. You’ve already set routines that keep your interactions balanced and fun.

Part of the routines involve going shopping every time you arrive to a new land, you help Nami to select clothes or jewelry. Usopp sometimes takes you through foreign places to assist him buying tools that might be useful to invent artifacts. He's a great inventor and storyteller, long walks and talks makes you feel at ease.

Now, you long to reach land to go out with them somewhere.

“Guys, we are getting close to an island” Usopp calls out. “Y/n, it’s exactly what you wanted”.

“AAAAH! where are weee?” Luffy shouts as he runs towards the lower deck.

“Oi, someone is desperate to put her feet in the sand” Zoro adds, staring at you.

“It’s better for Sanji not to see that shining face of yours, y/n. Otherwise he's not going to shut up about it” Nami stresses laughing.

You feel your face turning red, looking around to make sure the cheff is not there, silence was your only way to pass Nami’s comment over.

Once on solid ground, Sanji goes out to watch the landscape from the upper deck. His figure is delightful to watch from your viewpoint, you couldn't help but notice him lighting a cigarette. He is the sweetest man, but your shyness has stopped you from getting to know him as you'd would like to since the first day you saw him.

He’s been aware of your self-imposed distance, but despite that, he’s always been kind, so kind that you’d like to tell him many things stuck in your chest. You’ve been avoiding doing any task with him, even going for groceries. His beauty is crushing, it makes your body weak.

“U-hm the weather is nice… You go, I’ll stay here. It’s my turn” Sanji shouts to the crew. Gaze fixed on him, you are the last one leaving the ship.

“I’ll prepare a delicious meal and drinks for you, y/n-chaawn and Nami-swaan!” you hear Sanji's sweet voice while waving his hand.

“Ugh, he’s so loud sometimes… y/n, would you mind going ahead with Usopp? I’ll find you later” Nami says, rushing to the opposite side of the road.

As you walk next to Usopp, you see Luffy’s and Zoro’s silhouettes moving forward in the distance.

For some reason, Usopp’s stories couldn’t catch your attention this time, there was internal noise pending that couldn’t longer bear.

Sanji is in your thoughts. Somehow, you have to leave your insecurity behind to allow him to know you as the others. At the moment, you wish to return to the ship to listen to Sanji’s stories about the All Blue. You were aware he hasn’t had the best childhood, there were parts of the story of his life that were missing, you felt the need to complete the puzzle of the straw hats’ personal stories.

When Usopp entered a shop, you decided to check the other stores around, you entered a large hall and luckily got to a place you like, libraries. You have some berries specially saved for occasions like this. Books about philosophy, mythology, romance were selected, but something was missing, something special, a gift... a cookbook. You've finally decided to offer him something valuable, you are certain that he’s going to appreciate that detail.

Leaving the library you realize that Usopp isn’t around. You perceive something is going on, people murmur and disperse through the small village, agitated kids run to their houses, and there's not much time for night to set.

“Bandits have come to sack the city!!!” someone screams.

You immediately think about sightings of The Going Merry in the area, but Usopp’s disappearance was strange.

Trying to remember the way back to the ship was hard. You followed your nakama without being conscious of the path, your mind was blank.

You stare at the place trying to keep calm, after a while you decide to go down a busy street to feel safer. The locals seemed to have regained their composure after a while, but now you're the one who's confused.

“Shit, I can believe that I also lose my sense of direction...”

Night has fallen, in a single desolate part of the city, you start to feel a non-human presence behind you. Walking faster doesn’t seem to help, beasts breathing sounds down your back. In a desperate act you start running, but two wild dogs reach you, attacking one of your ankles. The pain is unbearable, they wrestle and tear part of your leg. Distressed, you begin to hit one of the creatures with the bag full of books. As they release your ankle covered in blood, you stand up as fast as you can. You take refuge in a grove, to go unnoticed. “A-gh crap, this looks awful, I need to go to the ship.”

It’s already past midnight, the full moon illuminates you completely. The pain stuns you and the area is fully swollen. You already accepted that you have to wait until dawn, you have no idea if the early commotion at the village ended, the real reasons or real bandits behind it, you can't risk showing yourself as a foreigner, as a pirate. “Damn it hurts, fuck.”

The pain was so strong that you fell asleep under the bushes.

“y/n! psss, please… wake up” you listen from afar. “Darling, darling… Ahhh, fuck… your leg, beauty... please.”

Your unconscious body feels some generous warm hands. “Aargh, Sanji? Is that y-”

As you open your eyes you see Sanji's ethereal features, he is on his knees holding you in his arms, his fingertips caressing your face and head softly, your body trembles. Bursting into tears you sob “I’m sorry!”

“No, sweetheart. I should have come with you. I-I was restless on the ship… we've been looking for you for hours”

You felt a bit embarrassed that he sees you in that condition, a new unintentional connection with the charismatic cook has been born. You’ve always wanted that but not under these circumstances.

“We have to go back. I need you to get comfortable in my arms. I'm going to get up on the count of three… two… on–”

“Sanji, wait” you interrupt. “I-I’m so sorry for my avoidant behavior these months.”

His blue eyes are filled with amusement and curiosity. He looks captivated as your eyes meet. “It’s fine, honey. We all have different things to attend” Sanji chuckled warmly.

“No, don’t you get it?”

“W-what-” his brow furrowed. “What are you trying to say, y/n?” his gaze fixed on you again and later on your lips. His face was so close to yours that despite your physical pain, it felt satisfying, time stopped… It was a moment of vulnerability for both of you, he was nervous, blushing, his body irradiated warmth.

Lost in your thoughts, as you wrap your arm around his neck to make yourself more comfortable, you push your cheek towards his and give him a small kiss on his nose. His cheeks instantly heated up and he replied with a faint kiss on your lips.

“We’ll need many days to make up for lost time, my love” he cooes.

“Oh, I have a gift for you” you whisper as he gently takes you back to the ship.

#sanji x reader #one piece #one piece sanji #one piece x reader #sanji x you #black leg sanji #opla #sanji x y/n #reader insert #sanji fluff #one piece fluff #sanjis-moulinrouge-fiction

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dduane · 9 months

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The Novel as Cake

I was reading through the 'writing' tag on your blog, and came across your wonderful post about how you outline your novels using Cherryh's 'Shopping List' technique. My question is - how do you decide/come up with the 10 things in the novel? I have about 3-4 things I know must happen in my idea, and other random details about the world. But what is important enough to be one of the 10 things? And also, how do you generate your ideas for those 10 things? - Asked by Anonymous

…Okay, let’s take this from the top. (And for convenience’s sake, let’s stay in the shopping-list idiom; it’s useful enough.) (ETA: the blog entry that discusses the Shopping List outlining method is here.)

Let’s say you want to make a cake. …This cake also being your novel.

To have a solid story (in the western-novel tradition, anyway), you need at least two things: plot and theme. The plot is what happens. The theme is the why of what happens, and (to a certain extent) the book-wide spectrum of thought and emotion that underlies that; the answer to the question “But what’s the book about?”* …Think of this duality, for the moment, as the equivalent of having both liquid and solid stuff in your cake. You’ve got to have both or it won’t rise. A book with a plot but no theme has no soul.

So: you’re going to make a cake. What kind?

As an example, I’m going to ease myself out onto a limb here and equate “chocolate-chip devil’s food with chocolate buttercream frosting” with “epic-fantasy quest fiction with strong political, exoreligious, and quasiromantic components.” (A favorite for me, over time, as some folks will have noticed. I just can’t get enough of those chocolate chips…)

So how do you determine the ten things you need (or whatever number you like, but ten works for me) as major ingredients / sections?

Well, ideally from some familiarity with what has gone in other/similar cakes/works of fiction in the past: because (in genre fiction, anyway) you have at least some reader expectations to manage. If you haven’t been reading in your chosen genre, you really should be. ...Now, this doesn’t mean you have to do what other people working in the genre have done. Indeed, at all times you remain at liberty to “flip the punchcard” and do exactly the opposite of what everybody else has been doing, if that’s what suits you. But they’ve set out possible recipes for you, so (as a beginner at this work) it'd seem wise to examine those recipes and see what’s in them that might be useful for you. Once you’ve been doing this for a while, you don’t need to go looking, just as an experienced baker doesn’t need to run for the recipe book every time they want to make a cake.

Naturally you can substitute ingredients, add some or lose some, when you’re creating something new; just as you like—while always making sure you don’t throw away anything routinely required/expected in your genre. (Such as, for example, the Happily Ever After at the end of a genre romance.) But certain basics must be in place, things that make what you’re creating recognizably A Cake, as well as your own additions and embellishments.

In this case, that could be:

For a cake: flour, milk, eggs, butter, baking powder, cocoa, chocolate chips, vanilla extract, seasonings, a little bit of salt (because without that, even the sweetest cake tastes just a little insipid somehow)

For a novel: a protagonist/pairtagonist (is that a word? It is now…); an antagonist (not necessarily a character: an antagonistic or stymie-ing situation that keeps the antagonist from easily getting what they want/need will do just as well. This is where at least some of the interior drama will derive from); a change in interior or exterior conditions that sets events in motion; a “ticking clock” or similar construct that means the desired result must be achieved within a certain time or before certain conditions change or expire; various reversals or hiccups in the flow of the story that will inject a sense of realism (because when does anything ever go perfectly smoothly…?); a crisis point at which everything assembled against the protagonist rises up to be dealt with, and the protagonist rises up to meet the challenge and deal with it; and finally, a set of resolution events that (even if it doesn’t absolutely finish the story proper) brings about an end state that will leave you, and any theoretical reader, satisfied with the completion of the current story arc.

…Needless to say, this is an incredibly oversimplified take on the kind of strategizing needed when you’re creating the recipe for a novel that won’t simply collapse the minute you take it out of the oven. But starting simply is often best. The more you do this kind of work, the easier it gets.

Now: “How do you generate your ideas for those 10 things?”

There are a lot of possible answers to this, but the simplest is: Make them up out of nothing, as usual. :)

…This isn’t meant to sound like sass. You made up those first three or four things you came up with out of nothing, and now (because they’ve been there for a while, probably) they may well have started to acquire a kind of secret, temporally-based superiority in your mind—starting to feel somehow more valid than what needs to come next to fill in the gaps. This kind of creeping sense of validity-via-temporal-primacy is a commonplace when you’re in mid-process, and I invite you to ignore it.

Just insert those three or four things into your shopping list in (roughly) story-temporal order, and then spend some time thinking about what kinds of events could usefully come between / flow from them. Hints:

Events that could realistically have been caused by the ones you’ve got already, and could also realistically be seen as causal to later ones you’ve already established, are always useful. Ideally, you’re trying to establish a chain of events in which none of them look accidental, or coincidental (because readers are rightfully sensitive to plots that only work because all the characters are idiots, or keep having “lucky accidents”). What you’re working toward is an event flow that seems, when viewed in completion, inevitable: as if it couldn’t have happened any other way. You will almost certainly not achieve this easily, early on in your novel work, and maybe not at all. But it strikes me as a good thing to be striving for.

Events that badly screw things up for the main characters are also always useful. Heroes do not become heroes by having everything go their way. Their heroism is achieved and manifested by having things go to shit around them again and again and AGAIN, and nonetheless still finding their way through all that shit to do what needs to be done. The lines attributed to the Confucianist philosopher Meng-tse (sometimes translated from Japanese into English as “Mōshi”) are a touchstone in this regard:

When Heaven is about to confer a great office upon a man, it first exercises his mind with suffering and his sinews and bones with toil: it exposes him to poverty and confounds all his undertakings. Then it is seen if he is ready.

So put your protagonists through the wringer. This is the greatest service you can do them: showing who they are by showing what they're made of.

A variant on this theme: Spend a little time thinking, “What is the absolute worst thing that could happen to these characters in this story / in this world?” And when you’ve figured that out, stick it into one of those gaps as a Main Thing—ideally one between the story’s midpoint and its already-planned crisis, if you’ve got that in place—and then start thinking about how to best exploit it to show how terrific your characters can become if you kick them around a bit. (Addendum: you are allowed to have one Absolutely Terrific and Beautiful Thing happen to assist your characters in recovering from this awfulness. Because they deserve it; but also, all invented worlds [if you ask me] should have beautiful things in them—things to long for, things that make your reader wish they could live there. And that you find beautiful, and worth returning to. You are absolutely allowed to keep yourself entertained, and emotionally refreshed, while you’re creating.)

…Anyway, take your time about getting those gaps filled in. It may take a little while: laying down basic story structure is worth not rushing, if you can avoid it. Once you’ve got everything major in place, the secondary lists will follow more easily.

HTH!

*This is a hilarious oversimplification, but my job at the moment is not (as the saying goes) to explain the workings of the entire universe while standing on one foot. :)

#writing #outlining #the Shopping List #how-to #suggestions #writing process #themes

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ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her · 26 days

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Sapphic vampire fiction mini reviews, ranked from least favorite to most:

House of Hunger: Bland characters, a story that barely scratches the surface of the implications of its premise, and a central relationship with nothing underpinning it make for an aimless story with a climax that hits like a limp noodle. If the dynamic between a vampire and her indentured maid appeals to you, try The Wicked and the Willing instead.

An Education in Malice: For a Carmilla retelling, the titular character really lacks bite. Laura at least has some interesting contradictions in her, and De Lafontaine could be quite compelling if we saw things through her eyes, but the central relationship isn't built on a lot, and Carmilla herself is really disappointingly bland. The prose comes off as overwrought and melodramatic in the first act, and the constant leaning on poetry feels gratuitous, but it picks up steam and becomes appropriately gripping by the one-third mark, and it carries the book enough that I had an enjoyable but rather shallow experience. I struggle to think of a reason to recommend this over In the Roses of Pieria, which plays with similar thematic and aesthetic elements much more adeptly. Also, it's a pet peeve of mine when a story makes a point to establish a specific historical era for its setting but has characters that feel utterly modern.

The Deathless Girls: This book does a much better job with its sense of time and place, and the characters and their motivations are quite strong. I only rate this one low on this list because the main characters don't actually deal with vampirism as a condition until the very end of the book. On its surface, the premise might seem quite similar to A Dowry of Blood, but there's actually very little thematic or narrative overlap.

Ex-Wives of Dracula: An excellent exploration of the queer teenage experience in conservative small town ~2015 USA along with some pretty novel twists on vampire and horror movie tropes. Strong, vibrant characters with a rich, messy, and compelling relationship carry a solid mystery plot and some pretty pointed critiques of its setting, but the actual climax and resolution don't quite hold up to the quality of the rest. Also I simply must warn anyone who didn't grow up in the time and place this book explores about the profound and casual bigotry and nastiness of that setting, which this book replicates to a T.

The Wicked and the Willing: A thrilling and compelling dark romantic drama centered on a British vampire in 1920s Singapore, her newly hired and desperate to escape poverty personal maid, and her majordomo who is struggling to keep her conscience under control after years of aiding and abetting her mistress's dark appetites. Extremely strong character writing pairs with deft exploration of themes of colonialism, entitlement, class divisions, sexism, and the ways in which certain types of status can and cannot afford one leeway to be nonconforming in other ways. Intermixes diagetic and non-diagetic BDSM very organically also, if that's your thing.

In the Roses of Pieria: Rich prose dripping with atmosphere follows an obscure academic as she digs into a series of ancient correspondences and discovers a millenia spanning love story between two vampires. The character writing is solid, if not quite as impressive as some other entries on this list, but the quality of the prose more than elevates it. The text makes elegant and powerful references to Sappho throughout, and the whole experience is heady and compelling in ways that I struggle to describe in greater detail. Funnily enough, the vampires are the least interesting part of the world building. This one has a sequel coming, and I can't wait.

A Dowry of Blood: A darkly enchanting epistolary novel that takes the form of letters written by the first of Dracula's wives to him as she attempts to make peace with killing him. She unpicks a delicious and horrifying knot of feeling and history as she revisits their millenia together, recounting and reckoning with the manipulations and abuses that defined the good times and the bad. The characters are evocative and rich, the narrative voice by turns sparse, longing, furious, contemplative, and mournful, and the story simply springs to life. It accomplishes an incredible amount in approximately 200 pages, and I absolutely cannot recommend this one enough.

#the wlw review #im sure there are countless more sapphic vampire stories #but these are the ones ive read #ignoring a few outliers that don't really explore vampirism

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sgiandubh · 3 months

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Onlies at large

Sometimes (often, even), I can't sleep. And when I can't sleep, I get easily bored, if not focused on something. And there was nothing of particular import on Netflix or Amazon Prime, yesterday night. Aaand, as I don't have access to my bookshelves back home, I went looking for a light something to read myself to the Land of Nod.

I am, since forever, a solid reader of non-fiction. Memoirs, diaries are a special interest, too. So I just wanted to see if there were any nice memoirs of people who went to Scotland in search of a new life/love/whatever, Under The Tuscan Sun -style. Everand/Scribd is a decent starting point for the such, at 2 AM.

There weren't and I wonder why. But as I was browsing around, lo and behold, I found a tiny, self-published memoir by a certain Ninya (not her real name, of course): Scotland with a Stranger (2020).

Great literature it is not. It is naive and the narrative line sounded really, really meh to me: a 43 year old Alabama depressed divorcee finds healing and a renewed purpose for life, while traveling to Scotland with an improbable companion.

So, I skimmed and skimmed and skimmed (FFS, when is she going to PACK, this one?). Then, I found this and no, I am not sorry AT ALL for the length (passages are bolded by me).

Thank you Baby Jesus, she finally made it to her EDI flight:

'(...) I noticed a little emblem on the shirts of many of the women on this flight. It looked like mountains and said Peaker. All the women were laughing and chatting and carrying on like they had known each other forever.

“Is this your first trip to Scotland?” I tried to make small talk with the lady next to me.

“Heavens, no! It’s my sixth.”

“Wow,” I said. “It’s such a big world, but you keep coming back here?”

“Yes, it’s just incredibly beautiful. I never get tired of it. There is no other place as magical on earth.” She smiled wistfully. “I’m actually coming for a gala.”

“A gala?” I parroted back to her. I thought galas were reserved for Barbie movies. In my social circle, no one I knew ever attended a gala.

“Yes! It’s called My Peak Challenge.” She leaned in closer, excited to share. “Have you read the Outlander series?”

“Funny you ask that because I just downloaded the first book.” It seemed like required reading when you went to Scotland. I loved to read and had nothing but time due to my social media fast, so it was sitting unopened on my iPad.

“Well, the character of Jamie is played by Sam Heughan, and he is the founder of My Peak Challenge. It’s not just a club; it’s a movement, and every year they have a gala in Edinburgh. People come from all over the world for this event.”

The germaphobe next to me chimed in. “This is my first year, but he has truly changed my life. I’ve lost twenty-two pounds.” I was impressed, having weighed nearly two hundred myself at one point. Losing sixty of it was one of the biggest accomplishments of my life.

“Losing weight is so hard,” I commiserated with her. “How did you do it?”

“The boring way, eating right and exercising.” She laughed, and I laughed with her because I knew too well it was the only way that worked long-term.

She continued on. “My Peak Challenge is a training and nutrition program where we support and challenge each other, but it’s not just that because Sam has raised nearly two million dollars for charities all over the world. He’s just incredible.” She was practically swooning and literally fanning herself. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was hot, or because she was.

That nutrition program must include the Sam Heughan is a God Kool-aid.

“This conference includes a meet and greet and a gala and a special workout that Sam leads. He’s just an amazing human being,” she gushed. She clearly was in love with Sam Heughan.

“I have been chosen to introduce him,” the sweet older lady to my left said. “So, I’ve got the next eight hours to figure out the words to say to introduce the man who has completely changed my life.”

“Yes!” She went on. “It’s an incredible organization. He’s really affecting change on a global level.” (sic!)

Great. I am stuck between two evangelists at a Sam Heughan-is-the-greatest-human-in-the-world presentation.

“We have a Facebook group, and everyone is just so awesome and supportive. It really is a family.”

“And how much does it cost to be in this family?” I asked skeptically.

“It wasn’t much,” she defended, quickly changing the topic. “Nearly every penny is donated to charity. He is changing lives,” she stressed so incredibly seriously I had to cover my mouth to stifle a giggle.

Is this a cult? It sounds like a cult. I am trapped on an airplane for the next eight hours with the Sam Heughan cult.

Luckily for me, headphones exist. It was an overnight flight, which meant I could close my eyes and pretend to sleep, and there were movies to be seen.' (Ninya - Scotland with a Stranger: A Memoir, Chapter Thirteen).

For some reason, I doubt Ninya ever opened that OL first tome, on her IPad or elsewhere. But the point of my post is not to poke fun at SRH, MPC and all the gracious Peakers who read and often comment on this humble blog (@ladyjane-lj, @rosfrank immediately come to mind and I am sure they are not the only ones).

The reason I quoted this passage at almost full length, despite the paltry writing skills and abysmal grammar/spelling on display (Sweet Baby Jesus, please make people see the real difference between affect and effect, thank you and amen) is that we are dealing here with a unique perspective on a sizeable chunk of this fandom. You see, Ninya has no damn agenda to promote, in OL terms. She is not a shipper, but she is not an Anti, either. She couldn't care less if S+C=❤️, or if Tait rhymes with Fate (it rhymes with Bait, if you ask me). She doesn't know anything about OL, its cast, its Best Fans Ever, you and me and her.

And this is precisely why her perspective is so damn interesting. She is a mere passer-by, who failed to be grabbed in by the OTT Only Mommie gushing and who saw possessiveness and objectification disguised as love. She saw the most problematic, hypocrite and unimportant side of this whole experience and this whole fandom. And it's terrible and I am really sorry she did.

Maybe someone else than us reads this. For once, I wish they did, for it is an unadulterated, faraway echo of Real Life and the Real World. Selling that Toy Boi image is WRONG, *** and PR and TPTB. It's counterproductive and a total turnoff to real people who can't be arsed to even look for the Balmaclellan Adonis on Google, just because this fan substack is really, really embarrassing.

Of course, they blindly buy the booze, religiously sign in year after year to just about everything he sells around. Of course they show up every single time and pitch their tents on the rude city pavement in front of God Knows Which liquor store in Whoville, America. But they also show up with baked lasagna, pinch his ass (Madame Tussaud's, anyone?) and geriatrically swoon front row, cackling and giggling and catcalling like they were 12. It's also because of these women that OL lost its fabulous innocence and authenticity and it's because of these women we do have the Global Merry-Go-Round Seasonal Shitshow that keeps all of us (sickly, I am the first to admit it) engaged here.

Finally, this is also why I am closely following all the business side of this ahem, universe. It's the road less traveled by and of course, probably the most rewarding.

Shoot me, the very moment I turn into Neilie. Let it be clearly known beforehand. And no, please do not resuscitate. I'd be too ashamed.

#fandom #shitshow

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