Tumgik
#this is under construction and badly written
What does Ida do that makes Rosie’s heart skip a beat and melt like butter, and what does Rosie do respectively? How does Rosie like to be kissed, and how does Ida?
The way this ask sent my own heart all a pitter patter. ✨
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I love this couple so badly it’s not funny. I need them written and fully formed so we can all scream over particulars but until then, asks like these are my bread and butter.
What makes Rosie’s heart skip a beat over Ida’s actions? Well he’d keep you pinned under a laundry list of little nothings about her but for one, but maybe let’s go with three: he loves when she gets a little mad, honestly, about a good cause, especially if he knows that between the two of them they can open a can of whoop ass on the evildoers and give her an outlet. (Conversely he HATES when she’s angry and there’s nothing he can do to help it be constructive). One of the first things that made him trip into love with her is how she can go from discussing some of the hardest topics in life to a smooth transition into breezy and gentler subjects. She’s not deflecting, she’s not chickening out, she’s just able to balance both in life. “Coffee break?” was something she asked of him so casually after her first horrifying deposition it about landed him on his ass. And lastly, this woman and her music, trombone playing or insisting he learn some actual dance moves, he Loves Ida and her music.
As for Ida with Rosie? Rather simple, his voice over the telephone sends her batty. It started when she was still in denial of both the nature of their connection, his intentions and her own feelings for him. And now when he goes on business trips those phone calls can turn quite saucy, but besides that, it’s just the avid appreciation his voice holds for her when he talks and listens and hums to her over the phone. If he calls from the office you can be sure his greeting when he comes home will be even warmer than usual. He’s preheated the oven so to speak. She also loves to wind him up on a subject he loves and listen to this nerd explain it for the next three hours.
Kisses- Rosie honestly loves Ida’s rather violent, almost argumentative kisses that usually come after her huffed “why are you so wonderful” before she angrily smooches him. Ida loves the way Rosie will cradle her head when he takes her apart at his own pace, the tickle of his mustache, the way he’ll rub their lips together in a gentle press long before he begins to truly caress and kiss her. The noises he makes when their tongues finally meet.
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octuscle · 3 months
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Now open under new management (remake)
Edward Parker III rolled down the car window a crack. Peter, his driver, had switched off the air conditioning to save fuel. The fuel gauge was practically at 0.00. Here, in the middle of nowhere, they had no mobile network. The last Google message said that a petrol station would appear at some point. And Peter claimed that it should open in five minutes. Open from 10:40 am. Strange opening times. Edward's stomach grumbled. Something had gone wrong at breakfast. The car desperately needed a gas pump. And he needed a toilet just as badly. Then, like an oasis in the desert, a building appeared in the middle of endless cornfields and pastures full of stupidly staring cattle. It was 10:39:50 a.m. when Peter steered the car into the dusty gas station with the last drop of gas. At 10:40 sharp, Edward yanked open the car door and jumped out. And the moment his spotless Oxfords touched the ground, the neon sign flashed. Open!
Edward ran towards the little store where the neon sign was shining. He was far too intent on not wetting his pants to notice the leather soles of his shoes turning into a firm rubber tread. When he pushed the door handle down, he got something like an electric shock. He didn't care. The store was empty. His palm became calloused. His fingernails were black. There was a door at the back labeled "Private". Hopefully there was a toilet there. Thank God the door was open. And thank God there was a toilet. In the middle of a room full of tools, car tires and packages. It stank miserably. But Edward didn't care at all. He had already undone his belt while running, unzipped his trousers, pulled them down and dropped onto the dirty toilet seat at the last moment. And he had to shit like never before in his life. The stench was overwhelming. But the relief was immense. Edward finally relaxed again. But only for a second. Then his eyes fell on the dirty biker boots. They contained a pair of completely filthy jeans, pulled down as far as they would go. And what was even more irritating: his right hand was the hand of a construction worker, the sleeve of his shirt had disappeared. And the fabric of the right sleeve of his jacket was also coming undone. And on his chest and back, the color changed from a navy blue to a washed-out red. What the hell was going on here?
Even greater than the panic was the disgust at the stench. His left hand, still freshly manicured, reached for the toilet flush. And again he was hit by an electric shock. Panicked, he watched as his fingernails became dirty and his hand calloused. Edward's gaze fell between his legs. That wasn't his circumcised, shaved penis. That was a cheesy, hairy cock. Much bigger than it normally was. Edward had to get out of here! He hastily wiped his ass. A tight, hairy ass, sitting there on a familiar toilet seat. A man needs a good place to shit. Hehehe, this was a good place to shit. Stumbling, Edward stood up, his head spinning. He looked in the mirror. That was still his head. But the rest of him? His stiff white collar and tie knot vanished into thin air, revealing a well-toned chest. The last remnants of the finest navy blue wool on his upper left arm disappeared, and the transformation of his jacket into a washed-out and worn-out tank top was complete. I look like a fucking hillbilly, were his last thoughts before he grew a scruffy three-day fuzzy beard. His $100 haircut became a home-cut mullet. Damn, the greasy hair hadn't been washed in a while.
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Loud honking from outside. "Damn, I've taken a shit! Can't you wait?" Edward shouted. He wiped his hands on the dirty cloth stuck in his pants. Washing hands was for sissies in the city. He entered the yard of his gas station.
Hehehe, he knew the dirty truck that was parked there at the gas pump. "Pete's services of all kinds" was written on the door. And Pete Jr. was hanging in the cab with a visible bulge. "Eddy, don't you always promise the best service at your gas station?" said Pete with a grin. Ed spat out the chewing tobacco and licked his lips. "Go ahead, gas station attendant. The belt buckle won't undo itself!"
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Full service and guaranteed customer satisfaction. That's what Ed's gas station was famous for.
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xxblairexxss · 10 months
Text
Doudou (part 3)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 (Charles’s ending)
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader / Lando Norris x reader
Theme : Angst / fluff
Let me know what you feel and which side are you on!
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Charles explored the aisle of chocolates, scanning each brand while holding a basket that was halfway full with packets of chocolates.
“Mate, that’s a lot. You tryna get high on sugar or something?”
He turned around and was greeted by Lando, who had an amused curiosity expression on. “I never knew you were that big fan of sweets.”
“No, my sweet racks needed a restock. I wasn’t gonna finish everything in one sitting.”
“Great. I was gonna say I’m one call away if you were overdosed with all that.” Lando had realised Charles’s behavior had been more light-hearted and carefree during the winter break. He wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the break or it was you. The last time he hung out with you, you did mentioned that you bumped into Charles but didn’t go into the details of what you guys talked about.
And he didn’t ask you because he wasn’t sure if he would like to know.
“Hey, uhm, did something happen between you and Y/N?”
The question made Charles stopped looking at the rows of chocolate. Lando never asked about you, it wasn’t a topic that he would put on the table if you weren’t presence.
“Yeah, I mean, no. I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“Nothing. You just look different.”
“I haven’t heard her voice for so long, mate. Hearing her voice was enough to lift up my spirit even if the conversation I had with her wasn’t exactly how I wished.”
Your voice was his favourite song.
“I didn’t know you were this close with her.”
Lando was taken aback. He thought he sounded casual with the conversations but it seemed like some of his true feelings slipped off along with the words he had spoken. “No, we only shared a couple of texts and phone calls. It wasn’t anything more than that.”
“Chill, I was just saying. She deserved a good friend like you, Lando. I wasn’t gonna stop you from hanging out with her or anything. I just…wanted her to be happy and I know she’s in a good hand with her friends…. and you.”
But Lando knew Charles said that because he was far off, way far off compared to what you and him had been through.
ynusername
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ynusername bb face *(*❦ω❦)*
username belleee
username la plus belleee 😍
username Your hair is cuteee
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You scrambled through the cabinet to find that one thing that had always been there when you didn’t need it but vanished when you badly needed it, like right now.
“Ah! Here it is!”
The sound of doorbell broke the silence in your apartment. You had a slept over with your friend yesterday and the house was a mess. It wasn’t that bad but messier than usual. Your friend, Lia had decided to bake her own version of cake to celebrate your first job and to make it short, the cake wasn’t edible but it was the thoughts that was counted. So now your kitchen was a mess chocolate chips was everywhere, the dishes, the batter. It was best to say that your kitchen was under construction at the moment.
“Charles? What are you doing here?” You were in an oversized hoodie, your hair was a mess, your head was throbbing and your period cramp was like cherry on the cake. Complete set.
“Hey, I brought some chocolates for you…”
“Chocolates for…?”
“Your period cravings?”
You weren’t gonna ask how he knew about it because you knew he had always set a reminder on his phone. But you didn’t expect him to still keep the reminder on.
“You still set it on?”
“I never turned it off. I am not sure if you had a new favourite so I bought some of your all time favourite and some of them are new ones. It has new flavour written on the packaging but I didn’t buy any flavour that has fruits.”
Because you hate fruits and chocolates combination.
He rubbed on the back of his neck awkwardly and was going to walk away as you took the bag of chocolates and sweets but you stopped him.
“Do you…wanna come in?”
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You just wanna dug a hole and hide your face when the reality hit. You shouldn’t have invited him in because you were only humiliating yourself. You could see the way Charles blinked as he walked into your apartment.
“Did you get rob?”
“No….Lia came over last night and we were trying to bake to celebrate my first job but it didn’t go according to plan. I didn’t get to clean up the mess because I woke up with a headache and—“
“It’s okay. Give me that.” Charles stepped closer and and took the heating pad that you had in your arms, the thing that you were looking for before he rang the doorbell. “You should go and rest, I’ll fill up the heating pad and make ginger tea for you.”
“Can you make the tea with honey and—“
“Lemon, yeah I know, silly.”
He knew you couldn’t stand the smell of ginger tea alone.
The heating pad and tea did help to soothe some of the pain but you were still feeling awful. Charles had left you alone in the living room and you could hear the thud and clunk sound from the kitchen as he cleaned up the mess and cooked a simple and the only pasta recipe he knew that would be edible even if he cooked it horribly.
After all those ruckus, you were both now sitting on the couch with some random movie playing on the screen of the television.
“You really didn’t have to buy this much chocolates. I won’t be able to finish it.” You chuckled at the bag of snacks sitting on the coffee table.
“Yeah, I didn’t think I would end up with a bag full of it. The new flavours were the one that sold me out.”
“Do you wanna try some of it?”
“Yeah, sure.”
After spending like half an hour rating half of the chocolates, they ended up making you feel drowsy. Charles had noticed your head kept on falling forward as the sleep tried to win you over. He took the heating pad from your hand to change the water inside before pulling you to his side which caused you to jolted awake.
“Do you want to lay down?”
“Yeah. Can you hold me….?”
“Of course, doudou.”
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You fell asleep in his embrace, the embrace that completed the missing piece of comfort in your heart after the night. You had your ear against his chest and the sound of his heartbeat was a comfort to you. You could smell his cologne and feel the rhythm of his breathing as your head moved along with his chest as he breathed. You missed everything. You missed him.
“I haven’t washed my hair.” He tittered to your sudden remark which made your heart flutter.
“Is that what woke you up? It’s not the first time I have seen you on your period. I still think you look beautiful.” His palm went back to apply light pressure on your stomach.
“At any point in your life when we stopped talking, have you ever regretted what happened to us that night?” That was the actual thought that woke you up.
“Every second of it.”
“Charles?” You looked up.
“Yeah?”
“If our story was only meant to be up until this point in our lives, how would you take it?” You could feel your throat closing up as you imagined the end of us, the life where Charles was no longer in the frame with you. It was a hypothetical question. You just wanted to know what his answer would be.
Charles believed the question, or the possibility of you not being in his arms, either of it gave him goosebumps.
“Do you see yourself being happy after it ended?”
“That’s not the answer!”
“Answer the question first. If our story was to end here, where do you see yourself?”
“What if I can’t see myself ever being happy?
“Then I am still gonna chase after you. I have never prayed for anything so bad but I would beg for the universe that somehow, in any case that it could hear me, all I asked for is a chance to fix everything, to be with you again.”
“What if I see myself being happy after our story ended?”
“Then I would feel strange.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s just strange to see evidence of you changing and continuing on without me being there to witness it. But you said you would be happy. I think being given a chance to grow up with you and learn about love together was enough to shape me for who I am today so it would be selfish for me to ask for more chances to be with you when you are already happy on your next chapter of you life. So, maybe if our story was to end here, I’m gonna continue with my life, it’s gonna hurt, of course, but I’ll always go back to reread our chapter all over again and remind myself that you are happy, and that’s all that matters.”
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“I don’t think this is the right shape, Lando. Look!”
“Yeah, that one has double sided holes. But it can’t be this one.”
Lando had asked for your help and when you asked him to elaborate more, he said you should know once he came over.
He came over with a 10,000 pieces set of Lego. He couldn’t ask you out on a date because he was scared you would pulled away if you knew he liked you.
But he was very desperate to get to know you better so he came up with Lego. He thought 500 pieces would be too short so he went for 10,000 one.
“Oh, look! We did it! We did the first section. How many sections left?” You placed the small stacked up section away to start with the next one.
“I think we have….40 sections left. Yeah, 40.”
“What?! Ugh, that one took us 30 minutes because you weren’t helping.”
“Oh, yeah? I wasn’t the one helping or it took 30 minutes because you just picked everything that looked like the shape without double-checking and I had to go over the steps again to fix it back?”
“I call dibs on the first one!” You laughed. Lando couldn’t help but to smile at you, the sound of your laugh made him wish he could stop the time.
“Would you drink coffee or beer for the rest of your life?”
You straighten your back and sit up to look at him. “Why do you ask?”
“Nothing, just wanted to know your answer.”
“Coffee. I don’t like to drink. I only drink when I’m with someone I’m familiar with.”
“Why?”
“Why I don’t like to drink or why I only drink with someone I’m close with?”
“Both.”
“I was born with migraine. It was genetic. Beer would trigger my migraine. As in why I always drink when I’m with someone I’m close with, it’s because I’m a woman, Lando. Isn’t it not obvious?”
He cackled in response. “Oh, yeah. I just realised about it. It wasn’t that obvious, actually.”
“Lando!” You slapped on his arm. “And it was also because when I get drunk, I just become more….affectionate.”
“Interesting. Would you rather watch sports or play sports?”
You and Lando spent another hour making different sets of legos while answering some random questions like ‘comedy club or dance club’ or ‘skiing and skateboarding’ and Lando jotted down everything you said is his mental note.
Play sports, check.
Dance club, check.
Skateboarding, check.
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“There was this one time my dad sent me to a karate class and—“ You bursted out into another fit of laughter and rolled your body on the fluffy carpet.
“And what?” Lando has no idea what you were going to say but he had already joined you laughing. “Y/N, what?”
“And the next day I came to school, I punched my friend in the face because I tried to show her what I’ve learned.”
“No way! Are you kidding? What happened then?” He guffawed at what he just heard, unable to imagine you punching someone in the face.
“She cried, of course! And I got scolded by my teacher.”
“That was amazing!”
“No, it’s not! I have never felt so embarrassed.”
“That was some hands-on training, wasn’t it?”
“You could say that.”
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You and Lando shared more funny stories without caring about the time and for some reason, the night felt so short. It was already midnight when you started feeling sleepy, and so was Lando.
“I’ll get going so you can take your beauty sleep, yeah?” He ruffled on your hair before taking all his stuffs except for the Lego box.
“Thank you for today, Lando.”
“No, I should be the one thanking you. I had a lot of fun tonight.”
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landoprivate
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He thought you had a lot in common with the moon; it’s light, its beauty, and its distance from him.
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cemeteryry · 11 months
Note
Hi thank you for answering! So I wanted to request smut for Miguel with Trans masc reader who is on T, after taking the shot they are specially horny and get caught touching themselves by Miguel. If you feel uncomfy with anything, feel free to just drop it. Thank you very much 💚
i love this idea so much, i hope you enjoy!!
note: i hope everything is okay in here! i haven't written for a trans masc reader yet (even though I'm trans masc myself ...), so this was a first. please feel free to leave any suggestions, I'm open to any constructive criticism :)
caught in the act [miguel o'hara x male reader] (nsfw)
cw/includes: mention of getting a shot, getting caught masturbating, biting, slow turned rough sex, use of baby boy, pretty boy, etc., unprotected sex, afab terms
you had just taken your testosterone shot.
feeling good about yourself, you lay back on your bed. you stared at the ceiling and your mind began to wander from being proud of yourself for how far you've come to.. other things.
you couldn't help but think of miguel. everything about him was so attractive, from his build to the way he smiled (when he wasn't being a grump). but, what you probably found most attractive about him was his fangs. you so badly wanted him to dig his sharp canines into your neck.
the thought of all this was too much, you could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter the longer you fantasized about him. you closed your eyes and slid your hand under your boxers. you began circling a finger on your clit before dipping that finger inside of yourself. you were so wet just from the thought of him, you needed him, needed him inside you.
you stuck a second finger inside and slammed into yourself, aching for him to be the one to slam into you. moans growing louder, you began whimpering his name, "miguel.. please, i need you.."
you were so caught up in your activities you didn't even hear your bedroom door open. it wasn't until you heard a familiar voice that you finally opened your eyes.
"well.. isn't this a sight?" he purred, "you sounded so pretty, i just had to come to see for myself what was going on."
"fuck, i'm sorry, i didn't mean for you to see this, i had no idea that you'd be here, god this is so embarrassing i-"
he cut you off by nearly pouncing on you, now above you. "do you have any idea.. how good you sounded? how good you look?" he whispered into your ear. he spread your legs and rested in between them as he kissed your neck, resulting in a whimper from you. he took this as a sign of encouragement and began teasing the sensitive skin with his fangs. teasing your neck turned into him biting it, drawing blood, which led to you moaning his name out loud.
"fuck, miguel!" you yelled. it hurt but he'd lick over the recently bitten skin, attempting to soothe it somewhat.
he dipped a hand into your pants and began touching you while he nipped at your neck. he coated his fingers in your wetness before sliding three fingers inside, causing you to yelp from the large intrusion. he pulled away from your neck, looking down at you, "oh baby boy, too much for you?"
"please.. please, miguel, i need more.. i need you," you begged.
he smirked, "how could i say no to that, pretty boy?" he made quick work of pulling off his clothes and yours. before you knew it, you were fully naked before the man in front of you.
he drank in the sight of you, appreciating every feature and angle. "god.. you've got to be the most gorgeous guy out there.." he whispered.
he spread your legs open and pulled you closer to him by your thighs. he angled himself, then slid inside of you, savoring the first few moments of being inside you. he bottomed out and groaned, letting his head fall to your shoulder. "mi vida.. you feel incredible."
slowly, he began to move, taking his time. but, that didn't last long. his desperation for you got to him and he lost control. he was pounding into you relentlessly, making you cry out.
"fucking hell! i.. i can't.. it's too much, too much.." you whimpered, tears welling in your eyes.
he shushes you, "you can and you will, be a good boy for me, yeah?"
it's the use of "good boy" and you can feel your climax coming. you throw your head back and let him use your body.
his movements begin to grow sloppy and erratic. you can tell he's getting close. he looks as you, "fuck.. i'm almost there, where do you want it, mi amor?"
your eyes meet his as you bring your head back up, "in.. inside!" you could barely speak, let alone even think.
he gave a few last hard thrusts and then he was cumming inside you, leaving you full with his load. that's all it took to send you over the edge. you groaned and so did he as you two orgasmed together. he stayed there for a minute, coming down from the high.
you let out one last moan as you felt him finally pull out, along with his seed leaking out of you. miguel collapses onto the bed next to you, letting out a heavy sigh. he shifts onto his side, facing you. he smiles as he looks at you, "you have no idea how badly i needed that.. you felt heavenly, cariño," he praises.
"we need to do this more often," you say, breathless. he nods his head in agreement.
he gives you a smirk before sliding a hand in between your thighs, then inserting a finger inside you. he moves it a bit inside you, then takes it out. he brings the finger up to his mouth and sucks on it, tasting your combined fluids. feeling proud, he explains, "just had to taste us, my dear."
you look at him, mouth agape, arousal pooling in your stomach once again, "you better be ready for round two, mister."
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tomthefanboy · 2 years
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Last week I made a simple post saying I wanted a D&D version of this chart with a gnoll in the middle. I know that most of the time if you want something on the internet you have to make it yourself, but I couldn't figure out what each axis would be.
I wanted the D&D chart SO BADLY that I started boosting the posts about it with tumblr Blaze... Post 1  EVERY Post 2  TIER Post 3  OF BLAZE Post 4 
and after spending $250 I had a very wild week...
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...and had a lot interactions to sift through!
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Before I go too deep into the feedback and my reactions, I would like everyone to know that only ONE tumblr user out of.... (3604 plus 19895 plus 25938 plus 63883... cary the tens...) ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN THOUSAND THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY interactions actually had the combination of empathy, creativity, and reading comprehension to HEAR ME.
@emptymanuscript made me not one, but TWO D&D versions of the chart!
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LOOK AT THEM!
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Gnolls in the middle and everything! Fantastic.
This gives me the catharsis of being heard and a level of closure fitting with a $250 purchase on the internet. Especially when combined with all of these new friends (whom I will be spending the next month getting to know)!
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Hoooooowwwwwwwwwever... I still want a version that has the D&D creature types Humanoid on one side and Beast on the other side of the gnoll. so lets slip under the cut and take a look at the suggestions.
So first off, Axis 1. The X axis if you like maths. This is where I felt like Human to Beast would fit. That changes the chart into something like this.
This will be the basis for most of the charts going forward, meaning that in addition to the top and bottom creatures we place at the extremes of Axis 2 (the Y Axis) we will also need to consider monsters that are "half-humanoid" or "half-beast" versions of those types.
Since I started with creature types, lets start with the two groups of suggestions that actually involved the Rules As Written (aka RAW) D&D monster types.
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Fiendish - Celestial got a lot of hate from comments due to the lore of gnolls. Gnolls are the spawn of the demonlord Yeenoghu and reproduce through a wicked ritual. People claimed that this meant they could not be placed in the center of the chart this way. They were too hung up on the top of the chart being a celestial type creature, if you make the top of the chart a creature that's halfway between a demon and an angel (such as a chaotic neutral pixie) and the BOTTOM of the chart a creature that is full blood, bad-n-nasty demon (like say, Yeenoghu itself) then gnolls serve a pretty good middle ground. Then the corners would be creatures that are mixes of each of the sides (demonic beast, demonic humanoid, fey beast, fey humanoid) and you get a pretty solid chart like this;
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A smaller group considered the mortal natures of both Beasts and Humanoids and chose a different set of criteria...
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These don't have a unified voice but generally it was about an axis between what was natural/organic/normal and what was un-natural/in-organic/aberrant. Multiple creature types fit this bill at each end. Plants and fey are tied to living things while Undead, Constructs and Aberrations are based in inorganic and un-natural processes. We've already got fey in our last chart, so lets see how that looks on an axis against Constructs and Undead (both of these a created via magic like gnolls, so we'll leave out the alien aberrations and try not to think about them reproducing).
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Before we continue, let's take our first side bar.
There were some fools out there thinking they could shame me for spending my money on this, proving they don't understand budgets OR the internet. Only ONE of you out there thought to ask me for some money and I respected their hustle so much I gave them enough to blaze one of their own posts. Don't think the rest of you will get some though, even if you come at me with charities or shit, so don't try it. That time has passed.
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Such foolishness. Weep for them. Don't tag them. Definitely do not interact. I DO hope they get this blaze post as well though. (Hey @staff, you can do that right? It's not like any of them would have the mental fortitude to read this far after all)
From here we get into the more esoteric groupings. This is where the people who are VERY into D&D and the people who are completely unfamiliar overlap. Let's look at the physical descriptors first.
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Size categories are a thing in D&D and Gnolls are medium creatures like dwarves or elves and most humanoids. There's plenty of small monsters and plenty of big ones as well so it is relatively easy to find Large or Small creatures on the humanoid side and the Beast side and then a Tiny creature for the top and a Huge creature for the bottom.
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This makes for a satisfactory chart, but not one that captures the complexities of the original animal meme.
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The Softness and Hardness of a creature can be reflected in they shape and their stats. It may be acidic but the gently curves of a black pudding are pretty soft, just like the fists of an iron golem are hard. The corners of a chart like this are a bit trickier, there's all shapes of armored things you need to find softer partial-beasts and partial-humanoids. Oozes don't come in half measures so a different creature might be needed.
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Let's take a look at another side bar before we continue. There were a lot of people with something to say that were unhelpful in new and different ways.
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I'm sure there are dozens of you out there who had been thinking about a Third Axis (the Z axis) this whole time. That stops being a "D&D version of this chart"! Not applicable to this discussion! Same with anything that doesn't have gnolls in the middle!
Next up we have some suggestions for metrics along SOCIAL lines instead of physical ones.
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The lines here are very blurry. Gnolls work in packs but are not really social creatures. The destroy civilizations brutally but they do use weapons and magic items they find. They can speak language. The cuddle-to-kill spectrum is as skewed as the fiendish - celestial axis discussed earlier. Aside from player characters, gnolls want to kill and destroy things. I know the savagery is attractive to the monster-fuckers out there but they are 100% kill you. to go further down that axis you'd have to start looking into undead or outer planar beings that destroy the body, the mind, and the soul. So lets look at the Feral to Civil axis instead. Gnolls don't have as much infighting as some creatures. They are at least capable of teamwork to achieve their goals of mayhem so lets focus on that as a metric. Modrons exemplify orderly cooperation for a group cause but there's no CULTURE there. Just Law vs Chaos. We need a civil creature that is neither/both humanoid and beast and an utterly feral creature for the other side that will even turn on its own kind. Even more feral and unthinking than your average beast... But we simply can't ignore sexiness and willingness to cuddle in the equation... Metal to Cottagecore sums it all up best I think, so let's look for that.
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When you practice for an exam a lot people will tell you to trust your gut. I'm here to tell you to trust your first Blaze results. As much as I loved the thrill and attention of the higher tiers, the roller coast ride of the $25 tier was enough to get me where I needed to go. Let's see one of the first suggests and the most popular.
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Gnolls are a combination of brutal warrior and arcane origin story. There are certain gnolls with magical powers but in general they are not relied upon. This makes them a good middle ground. So we need a creature at one end that is a cunning spellcaster and an opposite that is a muscle-bound brute.  A number of arcane outsiders fit the first while half the giants fit the latter. But anything with a language is not quite dumb enough for an extreme. So there may be a need for outsiders on both ends if an unthinking/non-magical outsider can be found. BUT are outsiders by default eldritch magical creatures? Also, should I listen to the person that posted my face in their reblog more than the others? That seems important...
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As much as I'd love to have different creatures on every single chart as a weird flex, but the Tarrasque literally REFLECTS SPELLS and is one of the few creatures dumber than an ogre without being an ooze, construct or undead. On the other end, I had considered that the Death Tyrant or the Demilich with its Strength of 1 might represent the ultimate embodiment of mind over matter, but nobody has as many MAGIC spells and MIND powers as the Illithilich!
As we reach the final side bar, allow me to slap down a block of tags for all the people who left notes specifically asking to see how it ends. that way they get an alert even if this blaze doesn't get to them. @trickstercheshi​
@kippkap​
@musings-of-an-avimancer
@thatwingeddaydreamer 
@smokenmoths
@queuest
If you did a CTRL-F and just scrolled down to your name, I don't take it personally. I applaud your efficiency!
Let's see all the "none of the aboves" that my Blaze Train awoke as it shrieked across their dashboards!
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Not all comments are created equal.
Out of all the excellent ideas there was one that stood out to me early on and only got a few more people fully on board through the entire Blaze Train.
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Yes. That's right. We come all the way back around to physical descriptors. But it's not that simple! On the original chart, the rat, weasel, and raccoon are also mischievous and unpredictable with their grabby little hands. Meanwhile the quadrupedal Horse has evolved just as far in a different direction. Solidity and strength are in their hooves. Llamas and goats benefit from this power and stability but use it for wildly different purposes. There are also easy D&D creatures to pick out for each side without dabbling in lycanthropy or shifters.
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And now I can rest, knowing that I have the chart that I wanted all along. Now I just need to blaze this and see which chart people like the most and how many ideas people have for the Z axis on them. (you sick bastards)
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hi friend pls complete my request huehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehue
so you're alpha bangchan's mate and u are happily married with 2 kids but he accidentally hurts u when he's out hunting :D
I wish I never showed you my account
Previous asks, I am working on your stuff in a Google doc and I'm trying to make it good. This is just a joke because I think 8coupsstar is gonna kill me if I don't try and do this.
For future reference, I don't do omegaverse stuff.
Paring: Husband!Bangchan x Afab!fem!reader
Warnings: Minors DNI as there is smut, this is meant to be shitty please don't bully me😭 Unprotected sex, breeding kink, No hate to people that enjoy the omegaverse! It's just not for me personally
Words: 544
Summary: Weird omegaverse shit with smut and fluff.
Your husband Bangchan, whom you've been married to for many years and with whom you've borne children, has been missing you recently. Unlike other alphas, he doesn't just date you for sex or to get you through your heats, he has self-control.
Since he's been wanting to spend more time with you, he asked if you wanted to go hunting with him. Leaving your kids under the guidance of your friend at their house, you went out with him to hunt for food (I'm going to hunt for you). As he was stalking around trying to find something to kill, you wandered off looking around the forest that he took you to.
Suddenly you felt something pounce on you, pinning you to the floor. You felt a twinge of pain as you fell back and saw something on top of you. You screamed and scrambled to your feet as you backed away slowly. You were cornered. Tears began to fall. Just as it was about to bite you, the strange creature stopped and stepped back. 
It was Bangchan. As you dried your eyes with your sleeve, he cupped your face. “Baby I’m so sorry. I thought you were an animal.” “I’m sorry” “No, you aren’t sorry, you did nothing wrong.” “I was scared that you were gonna kill me.” “I know honey, I’m so sorry. I genuinely didn’t know.” “I know Chan.”
You could feel yourself getting faint and you realised only one thing could be happening. You were in heat. ‘Perfect timing’ you thought. As Bang Chan sniffed the air and you could see a bulge forming in his pants, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back to the car. “We’re going home,” he said. “It’s not safe.” “But I thought you wanted to go hunting?” “You’re more important.” 
When you got home, he ran you a bath and made you a snack. “Has your heat gone away?” You looked up at him while sweating, curled up on the couch. “Isn’t it obvious?” “Mhm.” He sat next to you and held your hand. “I’m so sorry baby, I just wanted to spend time with you and it went badly. I’m sorry for scaring you. I love you so much.” “I love you too.” You could see his boner reforming. “Can I make it up to you?” “How?” “I guess I can help you with your heat?” “Yes please.”
His dick was thrusting in and out of your aching cunt as you screamed his name. “Do you want me to fill you up baby?” “Yes Chan” You moaned in pleasure as his thrusts became sloppier and faster. “Cum for me.” You could feel your walls getting tighter as you reached your climax. “Are you going to cum in me Channie? Please?” “Of course baby girl.” He thrusted into you one final time and he shot his load deep inside of you. He groaned and carefully pulled out of you. 
“Was that good enough honey?” “It was perfect, I’m sorry about crying before and making you worry.” “It wasn’t your fault, it was mine.” “You shouldn’t feel bad, I really don’t care that much.” He hugged you tightly.
 “What did I do to deserve you?” “Everything.” “I love you.” “I love you too.”
Author note: I am so sorry that was the worst thing I have ever written I hate that so much It’s gonna haunt me for eternity. Like always, constructive criticism is wanted! If you liked this, please follow me for more fanfics that aren't like this one because I promise not all of my writing is like this. Also please send me some requests! <3 Thank you!
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theimpurelily · 7 months
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1: You Still Care
Word Count: 2,390
Notes: Second part of Forget-Me-Not
Next > | Table of Contents
Never in his life had Riftan ever felt such hatred for paper. Out of the countless correspondents he had written never before had he felt such trepidation toward putting his words on paper. There was no need for this, Riftan had long ago let go of any anxiety he felt towards his penmanship or grasp on the common tongue. So why, why after years of writing painfully boring correspondence for people he couldn’t tolerate, could he not write her one simple letter?  
It wasn’t for lacked of time, he had already been at Anatol for a few days now, having finally come home, finally away from the infuriated nobles at Drachium and finally away from Gabel and Hebaron’s constant pestering and ‘advise’ that he would never admit was possibly helpful. That not being said, part of him wished they had never opened their mouths. Their words did nothing but fill his head and dreams with visions of Maxi in ways he had never imagined before, leaving him too restless in the morning for his liking, like a teenager who couldn’t control himself anymore.  
It wasn’t for lack of content, not really, however nothing he had didn't feel suitable to write down. Telling her about the bandits they had dispatched on the way to Drachium might only make her worry and no force on earth could make him to tell her of the noble woman he had to kick out of his chambers on the first night they stated at the capital or how more than one noble whispered the word pagan not so subtly under their breath as he walked by.  
No, none of that was necessary to tell her. 
Riftan looked down at the letter in his hands, trying his best to ignore the several others that laid crumpled up or ripped apart at his feet. He knew he needed to finish by today, his men were already prepared to go for their possibly months-long excursion to remedy their money issue before he ‘ruined’ them as Ruth so eloquently put it. 
It was a necessary trip that he wasn’t looking forward to. 
No matter how hard he tried, some cruel force seemed to believe it necessary to keep him away from home. True, he would leave in a heartbeat if he knew the destination would lead to her, but this wasn’t the case and he desperately wanted to just be home for a moment. To have time to examine his lands and keep watch over the construction, to try and see some improvement in his work, to keep an eye on the people who had placed their loyalty so quickly onto his shoulders. 
As he rubbed his hand over his face with one hand his other started to run his thumb over the dried ink on the page, staying quiet for a moment before letting out a dejected sigh that echoed against the barren stone walls of his chambers. Out of every letter he had ever written, why did the one for her have to feel so…impersonal. 
It was a terribly short letter, with only real mention that he had arrived back at Anatol safe and on the progress of the wall's construction since she seemed interested in that before and made sure to inform her that he would not be home for some time, though he remained vague as to why and…not much else. 
It felt strange to write down anything of real detail. Part of him was still worried about the boy she had put her faith in with their letters. Until he felt secure, he didn’t feel the need to risk putting too much on paper. 
What good would it do if someone else read how painfully and pathetic he missed her? 
How often he found himself looking out at the barren garden and thought of her? 
How during his travels, he would catch himself remembering the feeling of her hair in his hands or how it looked shining in the sunlight as he watched the firelight dance. 
How badly he just wanted to hold her again, to be swept away by the sound of her voice or the smell of her perfume. Just let her presence sweep away the worries of the world where he could forget for just a moment of the people in Anatol who revered him in a way that  made his heart heavy, of Ruth’s worrying over his stay at Drachium or his constant nagging for them to figure out how to rebuilt his land before caused his fortune to run dry.  
He couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that crept up his throat as he set the letter down. He wished so desperately she was here, words always seemed to feel so meaningless. He would much rather show how he felt than write it down. But fate wouldn’t allow it, she wasn’t here, she would never be here. 
Without really thinking, Riftan slowly moved his hand to touch the stone hanging around his neck. If some day, he found the stone had turn smooth from how often he touched it he wouldn't be surprised. Lately he had found himself toying with it even when during the rare times he wasn’t wearing it and, more often than not, Riftan would wake up to his hand tightly clutching the stone, leaving little marks on the palm of his hand. He wouldn't mind if the marks never left, in some pathetic way it made him feel like there was some part of her that was there to greet him in the morning. 
He smiled a little at the thought of that, of being able to wake up with her face being the first thing he sees, her voice the first thing he would hear. Riftan felt his chest start to feel tight as he swallowed down any hope of that happening. 
She’ll never be here, just be thankful for what you are allowed to have.  
 Riftan let out a frustrated sigh as he eventually gave up and resigned himself to the fact that he would ultimately never be satisfied with any letter he sent off. A small part of him wanted to add in more, possibly tell her why he would be gone, however he felt a little…hesitant to do so. Though he knew there wasn’t any point in worrying. There was no need to make her worry or to think poorly of him that he had to resort to this, to hunting down monsters of the dragon subspecies. Harvesting the various profitable parts from high-grade monsters such as drakes, wyverns, and basilisks just so he could keep Anatol going for a year. 
Deep down, part of him knew she wouldn’t think that, there had been no look of disdain in her eyes when he mentioned him being a mercenary but still that small little voice, he had pushed down would still find its way back up, gnawing away at him each time he felt just a small hint of anxiety. 
Despite all this, the worry of his words and the wish to not put her in danger if the letter were to fall into the wrong hands he did give in and added one last line before sealing the letter. 
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In the end the excursion was more than worth it. 
Not only had Riftan and his men successfully gone about exterminating drakes and other subdragon, harvesting them for everything they are worth, they had also been able to accept commissions from nobles to deal with other threats. At one point, Riftan even found himself taking part in a sword tournament held at the border simply for the prize money. 
To no one's surprise, there had been plenty of criticism thrown his way as he ‘lowered’ himself, tarnishing his knightly honor. It didn’t matter what faceless nobles thought of him, it wasn’t as if they held him in high regard before. They seemed to only see him for his skin, marking him as less than, an imposter who was blemish on their high society. 
Though he may have been forced to spend months away from home, away from the letter he hoped was waiting for him, Riftan was able to amass all the gold in Wedon’s southwestern parts. This, of course, made Ruth extremely happy. 
“Soon, we’ll be the wealthiest in all of the southern region!” 
Riftan was busy trying to not stare a hole into the neatly stacked pile of unopened letters waiting for him to go through while Ruth practically bounced with excitement as he opened a chest of gold coins. 
“By God, did you stumble across a grave of a hundred basilisks?” said the mage, his eyes sparkling. “How on earth did you manage to obtain so much treasure?” 
Riftan shrugged, his eyes darting between the mage and the letters. “A historical site. Just luck, I suppose.” 
“You’re like a bloodhound with gold, I tell you!” 
The mage chuckled as he weighed the coins one at a time, after which the servants placed them back inside the chest before taking them to the vault. Riftan watched the process, trying to keep his mind off the letters. He would like nothing more than to shoo away Ruth or simply take the pile of letters and rush off to go through them until he found hers. The only thing holding him back was the fact he didn’t wish Ruth to notice. He knew Riftan, knew he hated receiving any sort of letters since they nearly always called him away from home. For him to suddenly wish to drop everything to read one would only bring attention to it. So, he kept his attention on the treasure being taken away until Ruth spoke. 
“Do you think that site was the tomb of an ancient queen? Every other treasure beside the coins are all female adornments.” 
Riftan flinched ever so slightly. Ruth leaned forward to inspect an elaborate crown studded with emeralds, rubies, diamonds, and topaz. Next to it was a pile of bracelets, earrings, diamond necklaces, rings, silver hair ornaments, and a gilded jewelry chest. As the mage said, they were all items meant for a woman. 
After thoroughly appraising the haul, Ruth grumbled, “You should have just sold them and returned with more gold. These would be a tough sell to anyone but the big merchant guilds, and they never come to Anatol.” 
Riftan did his best to appear nonchalant as he picked a plum from a tray. “I don’t plan on selling them. I will keep them in the vault.” 
“It would be more useful exchanging them for gold,” Ruth said, frowning. “Never mind the exorbitant cost of the wall. Do you know how much it costs to employ all the sentries and servants at the castle? The wisest thing to do would be to keep this value in currency in the event of an emergency.” 
“We should have enough to run the estate for now. They say precious metals only increase in value over time. We can sell them when the need arises.” 
Though the mage appeared unconvinced, he redirected his attention to counting the gold coins as though he could not be bothered pursuing the argument. 
Riftan let out a small sigh of relief and picked up one of the earrings, twirling it so that the light would catch and play with the sapphire stone sitting within the dainty jewelry. It was true that at least some of these ornaments had been discovered at the site. Most, however, had been purchased. He knew he would never hear the end of it if the mage were to find out. 
How I spend my money is none of his concern , he thought in silent rebuttal to an imagined reprimand. He knew some of the items would be useless, any jewelry he gave Maxi had to be easy for her to hide, whether in her room or on her person. Looking back, he knew the necklace was a poor choice in that regard. It was far too bulky and the chain too short for her to hide with ease. As he placed the small earring down his eyes went towards the crown and he nearly shook his head at the ridiculous purchase, but he couldn't help but smile at the time as he pictured her wearing it. 
As soon as Ruth seemed satisfied with how everything had been sorted and handled Riftan made quick work in shooing the mage out of his office, ignoring his complaints as he shut the heavy door in his face. When he could hear Ruth’s footsteps fading away down the corridor, Riftan quickly spun around and tore through the different letters, reading only the first few words of each one until he found one with delicate writing. 
He couldn’t explain why, but just holding her writing, tracing his thumb over the small crease on the corner of the page possibly done by her made him feel so unbelievably happy. He hadn't even read her words yet, but he already felt all exhaustion and homesickness fade away as he settled behind his desk to read the letter. 
Riftan had to chuckle a little to himself, her letter was just as mundane as his though somehow it seemed twice as long. She didn’t seem to skip out on any details, telling him how the boy did exactly what he was told without any issues, of her days in the garden playing with the cat.
She even went on to tell him of all the different books she had read written and filled so many pages with just her favorite parts and asking a few timid questions on if some of the monsters in the books where accurate or not and quickly told him that she was trying to avoid going too high up the library’s ladders (though he remember telling her to stay off them completely). There were several parts where she seemed curious as to why he was leaving his home so soon, but her words felt cautious as if she could tell he was hesitant to say anything more. It made him feel slightly guilty but that was quickly washed away when he read the last line of her letter that made his stomach flip and his chest warm up. 
Please stay safe,
I miss you as well.
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anonymouspuzzler · 8 months
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more cally o'pia stuff because it's my blog and i can do whatever i want forever. below the cut is a very rough broad written timeline of How Things Shake Out In Da AU. i hope you enjoy, very dry timeline notes
>20 years ago…
The Psychic 7 (namely Ford, Bob and Cassie) raid a hospital that is performing lobotomies on psychics. In the resulting scuffle, Cassie impulsively rescues-slash-kidnaps one of the patients, a 10-12 year old boy, Caligosto Loboto.
Ford and Otto eventually reach an arrangement with Cal’s birth parents, convincing them not to press charges and to release Cal into their custody. They’re secretly quite happy to be rid of their troublemaking psychic child and to not have to face the consequences of the botched lobotomy attempt.
Cal is raised collectively by the Psychic 7 (minus Lucrecia, who’s already left for Grulovia by the time he arrives), becoming a powerful psychic, voracious reader and writer, an amateur tinkerer, and very much a next-gen hippie weirdo. He’s particularly bonded with Cassie, who stepped into a maternal and teacher role for him early on, so she takes the role of his legal guardian on paper and he assumes her surname, becoming Caligosto “Cally” O’Pia.
20 years ago…
The Psychic 6 have their fateful battle with Maligula. Cal, by this point a teenager, remains behind to watch the Gulch and keep an eye on the then-ongoing construction of the modern Motherlobe. He ends up finding Ford, mind shattered, wandering through the woods one night. Cal is unaware of what happened to him but keeps watch over him until the rest of the Psychic 6 - minus Helmut, of course - return from Grulovia.
Helmut’s funeral is held. Cal is particularly affected, especially seeing Bob’s subsequent mourning and breakdown - Cal looked up to the two as a model relationship and they helped him realize his bisexuality, so the incident gives Cal significant hang-ups around emotional intimacy and relationships.
Cal becomes part of the first class of Psychonauts agent trainees after the Motherlobe’s opening, alongside Truman (who he sees as a sort of cousin-slash-honorary family member).
Between then and Psychonauts 1…
Cal graduates and becomes an official agent, though by this point he’s already started becoming disillusioned with the Psychonauts mission, due to the continued breakdown of his family in the Psychic 6. He deliberately puts on an ineffective, slacker persona to avoid being put on missions, despite being a powerful and capable psychic. By the time Cassie leaves the Motherlobe, his role is primarily head janitor and semi-official steward of the Gulch. He also writes for True Psychic Tales under a pseudonym.
As his disillusionment grows and he becomes less trusting of the other Psychonauts for help and answers, he adopts the Loboto persona to go undercover unofficially. He’s especially looking for more information on Grulovia and Maligula, since he suspects he hasn’t gotten the full story from his family or the official press.
Cal befriends Oleander after the latter becomes an agent, eventually progressing to a tumultuous on-off relationship, which becomes something of an open secret around the Motherlobe. Each of their unaddressed issues, combined with assuming the worst based on the other’s unaddressed issues, makes each successive breakup worse and sabotages their secretly-mutual hopes for a serious lasting relationship. The big breaking point occurs when Oleander is badly injured on a mission (losing his eye and gaining his facial scar), making Cal panic over the idea of losing him like Bob lost Helmut; he encourages Truman to reassign him to Whispering Rock, which Oleander finds out about and takes as a tacit rejection-slash-lack of belief in him due to his own issues.
Shortly before meeting Oleander, Cal also has an extended affair with a married woman that he breaks off when she objects to him also seeing other people on the side. He remains unaware that he fathered a child through this affair.
Just before Psychonauts 1…
Oleander’s father dies, which causes him to finally snap and start up the Brain Tanks Plot. Having learned about Cal’s moonlighting while they were dating, he blackmails “Loboto” into helping. Cal agrees so he can secretly sabotage the project from the inside and attempt to keep Oleander safe.
Around the same time, Cal also gets a lead about the Delugianaries and infiltrates them as "Loboto". He begins to learn more about Maligula’s history with the royal family and the movement to reinstate the lost prince.
Psychonauts 1…
"Loboto" interferes as best he can with the Brain Tanks Plot without revealing his true identity to the other inmates, nor making it obvious to Oleander what he’s doing. He leaves massive openings on the psychic radio communications in hopes someone at Whispering Rock will catch them, stations Sheegor and Crispin to intentionally create weak points for an intruder, leaves the kidnapped brains out in the open to be recovered, and intentionally stalls debraining Lilli (to whom he’s an honorary uncle as Cal).
When Raz finally gets to the tower, Cal secretly trails him to make sure Raz can get to the top safely and unopposed. Once he does, Cal bails to return to the Rhombus of Ruin and continue his undercover work. Unfortunately, his boss there has figured out his true identity as Cally O’Pia, and blackmails him into kidnapping Truman by threatening his family (namely Cassie, Oleander and Lilli).
Rhombus of Ruin…
“Loboto” kidnaps Truman, and much like with the brain tanks, does everything he can to sabotage the plot without getting caught. This mostly entails poorly packaging Gristol’s brainless body, failing to dispose of the brain case, and capturing the Psychonauts after they crash rather than leave them to drown. Recognizing Raz and realizing he can excuse not “knowing” to put him under high-security restrictions the same as the other agents, he deliberately leaves Raz the means to navigate the facility via clairvoyance.
Raz learns of “Loboto’s” true identity from Oleander after rescuing him, and ends up using Oleander’s PSI-Portal to enter Cal’s mind. There, he sees the projected "Loboto" persona and meets Cal himself, who plots with him how to fake capturing “Loboto” and escaping in order to rescue Truman without giving away his betrayal. He will not give Raz information on his employers, however, still fearing for the others’ safety.
The Rhombus’ self-destruct auto-engages when “Truman” is released, to Cal’s horror. However, Raz and the agents are able to escape with their “captive”, though he still refuses to talk about his employers.
Psychonauts 2…
Sasha attempts to use a psychic construct to get the information out of Cal. It goes very, very poorly. However, Raz does manage to learn more about Cal’s backstory and get a glimpse of his boss and Maligula.
Sasha continues to attempt to interrogate Cal through the first part of the story, to no avail. After the Lady Lucktopus heist, Sasha’s forced to release him, and he returns to monitoring the Forgetful Forest. He drives away the psychic bees when Raz disturbs them, and Raz can talk to him about the undercover work as “Loboto”, his upbringing with the Psychic 6, and his apparent complicated relationship with Oleander. (There’s an optional sidequest where Raz can go back and forth between Cal and Oleander uncovering and pointing out their misinterpretations of each other, eventually convincing them to talk things out post-game.)
Post-reconstructing Ford, Cal discovers the three in the Gulch and is looped in by Raz. Cal still can’t help directly out of fear of his family being targeted, but gives Raz some tips for trying to talk to Cassie and Bob, and moves to the entrance of the Gulch to keep watch and feign ignorance of Raz, Ford, and Lucy’s presence. Raz can go back to him after helping either Cassie and/or Bob, and Cal is grateful for their apparent steps towards recovery, and baffled yet amazed by Compton and “Nick’s” arrival (with a hint that he already knows what’s up with the brainless Nick).
While Raz and company are doing final preparations for the Astralathe, Cal is distracted by Augustus trying to make it through the Gulch (and experiencing distress due to his repressed familiarity with it), allowing Norma to sneak by and witness the Astralathe activating. She comes back with Truman, and Cal is forced to let them by, knowing Truman is actually Gristol. He also witnesses Lilli tailing them and, realizing everyone is at risk no matter what and he has nothing left to lose, Cal instructs Lilli to distract “Truman” as long as she can and get out of dodge with Raz if the worst happens.
Cal runs back to the Motherlobe to search for the brain case just as Sasha, Milla, Hollis and Oleander are about to leave in pursuit of the mole. Cal begs Oleander to help him and he reluctantly agrees. The two find the case hidden in the mailroom and rush out to deliver it just as Maligula’s storm is released; they end up finding and protecting Lilli during the storm, and turn up just after she reunites with Raz to help with re-braining Truman.
In the post-game, if Raz either already completed or completes the sidequest with Cal and Oleander, they will be found together in the Gulch cleaning up around the Heptadome, and will confirm they’re talking things out. Cal will thank Raz with a signed copy of True Psychic Tales, though Raz doesn’t quite make the connection between Cal and the author. Cal also reveals Truman’s punished him for the kidnapping and undercover work by putting Cal back on the active agent duty he’s worked to avoid, intending for “Loboto” to start doing officially-sanctioned undercover work to clean up the remaining Deluginaries.
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dolceaspidenera · 8 months
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Our Personal Take on Baldur’s Gate 3
Foreword
After many hours of gameplay and the initial excitement about Baldur's Gate 3, it's finally time to switch back on our brains' critical and analytical parts and express a more articulated opinion on the game.
Even though it’s likely that this letter will only reach a few people, we’ll try to get our thoughts out there for anyone to read.
DISCLAIMERS: what follows is intended as constructive criticism towards the game from fans who have little to no experience in game development beyond what is publicly and generally available, alongside a small taste of it during the academic career of one of the writers. This letter was written before Patch #1. If in the meantime, anything we've pointed out has been corrected, we'll be more than happy about that! 
Also, this post has no intention whatsoever to belittle Larian's effort, to whom goes our greatest appreciation and gratitude for making such a beautiful, rich, interesting, fun game, which respects us fans and consumers beyond what the market has led us to expect from other game-development companies. This game is simply beyond greatness in a gaming landscape filled with micro-transactions, poor and recycled content, washed-out stories, and live services, it’s clear how it's a work of passion down to the last single, accurately crafted detail. 
All the praise the game is receiving is absolutely well deserved, and since most of the good stuff has already been said, we've decided to focus our attention on the type of content we’d like to see more and that we felt there was a lack of.
We'll be discussing the following topics:
Interactions with/between companions;
Skill checks management;
Party management. 
Lastly, this post has been cooperatively written with @myopic-skull, but in the following, the singular first person will be used to enhance the experiences of each player.
Thanks for reading and sticking with us; we hope you will appreciate our ideas and points of view and beware of the long post under the cut.
Interactions and Dialogues
Scarcity of Dialogues Between the Main Character and Companions
After many hours of gameplay, I've been feeling a lack of dialogue with the companions. 
I must admit that I am one of those people who would gladly spend hours talking to everyone in the camp at each chance they get, while I understand that other people don't care about this aspect of the game and skip most dialogues to get back to the gameplay. Still, I think that dialogues are a fundamental aspect of RPGs.
Of course, worldbuilding and plot — of which there is definitely no lack in Baldur's Gate 3 — are also pillars of this genre, but after all, the strong relations you tie with the other characters and the affection towards them are what make you feel deep inside you that your choices have consequences, and that those consequences carry a huge weight, that let you realise that the stakes are high and that they would affect someone you've grown fond of and care about.
Please, Larian, grant me the possibility to spend more time with my companions, talk to them more, and get to know them better. It's frustrating how each time I go back to the camp, I'm hoping to read new dialogues and discuss the recent events, just to end up reading the same old default lines. I'm not saying that the characters are uninteresting or badly written. Quite the opposite! It’s because they are such interesting characters that I crave to know more and to discover every little detail about their stories and personalities, and above all else, to spend more time with them.
⚠ Spoilers about Act 2 ahead! Astarion's backstory is incredible. I love how Larian handled such a character. I've loved the revelation that for him, sex has been weaponized, that it's been a traumatic experience about which he never had any freedom of choice and that it's become second nature for him to use it to manipulate people. Also, I love that Shadowheart's story touches on topics such as religious trauma and how many small details about her she reveals to the Main Character — such as her fear of wolves, her favourite flower, etc. These are just a couple of examples of the fantastic work I think Larian has done. End of spoilers ⚠
The problem is that these discoveries and interactions are spread over way too many hours, especially in Act 2, while Act 1 seems denser. The evolution of relationships with the characters doesn't develop organically through many conversations that let you know more about them. It's mostly dependent on their personal quests, leading to many hours of silence or irrelevant dialogues, eventually leaving the feeling that the pacing is off. Even after huge events, there's been a lack of comments by the companions, usually only a couple of lines where you don’t get to answer anything.
Scarcity of Party Banters and Dialogues between Companions
I know it may not look like a big part of the game, but the small interactions between party members can go a long way regarding their characterization and building a sense of cooperation and group dynamics.
Sadly, despite the over 100 hours of gameplay and having reached Act 3, most of the time has been spent in total silence when it comes to the companions. Maybe just three to four interactions in the beginning, but definitely not more. Nevertheless, I can't be sure not to be experiencing a bug that may be causing this problem. In fact, I'm curious to find out what other people's experience has been when it comes to this, because I'm suffering due to this lack of interactions.
Thinking back to games like Dragon Age: Origins and Mass Effect — which I believe Baldur's Gate 3 to be the closest heir of — there were many more episodes where the party would talk to each other, helping with the immersion in the game's world. Moreover, they helped to flesh out the characters, to make them feel more real, and they were ultimately fun to listen to. This has always been one of the facets of this genre that I loved the most, and it's sad to experience so few interactions while playing Baldur's Gate 3. This feels like a missed opportunity, especially given the huge potential of its wonderful characters and the amazing voice actors who give them life.
The dialogues between Morrigan and Alistair in Dragon Age: Origins were extremely fun and entertaining, giving the illusion that the characters were more than a bunch of polygons and some scripted lines. Not to be forgotten are also the exhilarating interactions between Zevran and Wynne or Shale's rants against pigeons after spending centuries as a statue. And can we not think about the embarrassing and beautifully cringe conversations in the Citadel's escalator in Mass Effect? And these are just a few examples. They may seem like small details in the grand scheme of these games' massive plots, but these details are what make us care for the characters, what we think about with a smile while reminiscing about these games, and what makes these characters feel like old friends who made us laugh, cry, and think. It's strange how Larian has thought of so many other great details with Baldur's Gate 3, but has ultimately skipped this particular aspect of the Role-Playing part of the game.
Just to put it into perspective and give a better idea:
Dragon Age: Origins has almost 3h40' of banter. Party banter | Dragon Age: Origins
Dragon Age: Inquisition has close to 5h30' of banter. Party banter [complete] | Dragon Age: Inquisition
Baldur's Gate 3's early access appeared to have around 20 minutes of banter, and most of it is now in Act 1, while Acts 2 and 3 are especially empty. Party banter | Baldur's Gate 3 [Early Access]
Mutual Exclusion of Character's Interventions During Dialogues
I'm frustrated by the fact that the intervention or the comment by a party member during a dialogue prevents any other comments from any other party member from happening, especially when we know that there won't likely be any others when the dialogue is over and that probably nobody will react to it. I don't feel like this adds to the replayability of the scene or of the game. I think it just gives the sensation of missing out on content and the chance to get to know the characters better. Also, the interactions are so randomised that by reloading the game, we might hear the same line over and over again before someone else says something different. This is different from the feeling that choosing a different answer may open up new paths and lead to a different outcome. This is just a feeling of missing out on content and being locked out from all the possible experiences.
For example, I recently had to reload a dialogue due to terrible dice rolls — I know. Please don't judge me. The Dice Gods have hated me enough already while playing D&D irl. - The first time, I heard a comment by Shadowheart, while the second time Astarion, whom I'm currently romancing, expressed some concern for my character in his usual sarcastic, subtle way. If I hadn't reloaded, I would have missed this small but cute and interesting detail, which is also narratively significant.
Also, there are little to no interactions between the characters in this sense. The dialogue between Astarion and Shadowheart during the scene with Abdirak, Loviatar's follower, is exhilaratingly funny, and I would love to see more interactions like this one.
I love how each character is extremely supportive of the others when something big happens to them. But this is only shown when explicitly interacting with them, never in a spontaneous way between them or through party banter.
Skill Checks Management
We're a party and we're working together: why, for example, shouldn't the big, strong, muscular barbarian be able to intervene when the situation calls for some intimidation or the strength to kick down a door? I really miss this feature in the game, which would help a lot in conveying the sense of teamwork and of belonging to a real D&D-style party.
Party Management
Let's face it, it's tedious to manage the party.
Instead of relying on a quick and easy interface like the one from Dragon Age: Origins maybe, managing all the companions, swapping the equipment, levelling up, and changing who's part of the actual party is a hassle. You need to listen to the same couple of lines every time for each character. This can be fun the first few times, but it gets increasingly tedious as the game progresses.
Closing Remarks
Once again, we'd like to point out that we're exceedingly satisfied with the game. We love it and think it's worth every penny we've paid. Also, Larian deserves all their praise for building such a special and huge game, so far from what the market mistakenly thinks we deserve.
For many years, we hadn't experienced such eagerness to play; days go by thinking about the moment when we'll be turning on the PC, launching the game and getting back into the story. We had surrendered to the idea that, unfortunately, our love towards cRPGs didn’t align with that of most people and the market. We thought we would never play anything like Dragon Age: Origins, Pillars of Eternity, or Divinity Original Sin ever again.
These criticisms stem from our love for the genre and the game itself: we would love to spend more time with it and with its incredible characters.
So Larian, please, we beg you on our knees crying, grant us more content about the amazing characters you gifted us 🙇‍♀️🛐🥺😭
With love, MT, L and whoever agrees: fans of yours ❤
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shootingstarpilot · 6 months
Text
Fic Writer 20 Questions
Thanks for the tag, @merlyn-bane!
1.) How many works do you have on ao3?
Eight!
2.) What's your ao3 word count?
217,911
3.) What fandoms do you write for?
*sobbing* Star Wars, my beloved. The brainrot is real; I am consumed. When I was still on FF.net, though, I had stuff up in Harry Potter and How to Train Your Dragon.
4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?
back then, i was dauntless
how to bring him home
if i don't make it back (from where i've gone)
though some would harm you
like lightning changing hands
5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I absolutely do! I feel bad because I know I've gotten some lovely comments on chapters that aren't the most recent one, and those tend to get lost in the inbox, but I promise I'm working on it- if you get a response from a comment you left a year and a half ago, don't hold it against me 😅
I do it because I want so badly to build community here! I love getting comments from people, responding to something with a wee hint of a tease because I'm AWFUL and then getting a keysmash of a response and then exchanging snippets in the comments, truly, it fills me with delight- and I've met some absolutely wonderful people who I got introduced to by responding to comments-
Anyway. Community. That.
6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Oh. Hm. Hm.
I... guess it would have to be though some would harm you? Although I'm not sure if I feel confident in that designation, because it's very much part of a multi-work series. And I'm too much of a sucker for happy endings to write a stand-alone fic that doesn't have one, I think.
7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Oh, neural plasticity, for sure! Short and sweet <3
8.) Do you get hate on fics?
A bit. I can brush off the "actually the Jedi were the real monsters" assholes easily enough, but honestly, the comments that hit the hardest are the ones that clearly come from people who think they're offering ✨constructive criticism.✨ Not only because I didn't ask for it, but also because saying my work is "fatiguing" or "I'm sure there's a decent story here, but it's being buried under what you're trying to do with it-" there's nothing constructive there.
Side note: the person who left that last comment deleted it about half an hour later, because when I went to reply, it had vanished from my inbox. I don't know if they did that because they didn't want me to be able to reply, or if they realized that what they said was unhelpful and mean, but if they ever happen to see this-
I still got the email, prick.
9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?
Write? No, I haven't quite worked up the panache to try. Reading, on the other hand...
10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
I do have snippets of one crossover that I actually posted in an anonymous collection, ha- an old BBC Merlin/ Good Omens/ Supernatural fic that I dug out of my old documents. Other than that, no- unless you count the Prequels and the Clone Wars as different enough to qualify as a crossover.
11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of!
12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?
Also not that I know of- very much open to it, though!
13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
Since I don't think taking drabbles in tumblr chats to ridiculous lengths counts, I'd have to say no- I'd like to, though!
14.) What's your all time favorite ship?
Codywan. Fiercely, unwaveringly Codywan.
Just to reinforce this- 292 of my bookmarks consist of Cody/Obi-Wan. The next most common romantic pairing (Aziraphale/Crowley) has less than half that, at 121.
I'm a goner, and I can't even bring myself to regret it.
15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?
OKAY SO I've written snippets of a modern AU focusing on Helix, Needle and Stitch, and I'm totally gonna take this opportunity to rage about it. I'm probably never gonna finish it, but it gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling, so, hey- what else is fic for, really, if not for indulging yourself?
At first, it's just Needle and Stitch. It's just been the two of them, for as long as Stitch can remember. Needle's only a few years older than him, but he's raised him, kept him in school, kept a roof over their heads and food on the table-
Food on Stitch's plate, at least.
Then, one night, Needle does not come home.
A hit-and-run, the nurse tells him, although the words will not trickle through until much later. A coma.
He will not, they say patiently, come home for some time.
(There is so much that needs doing.)
Helix, meanwhile, is studying physical therapy at the local community college and working part-time at his brother Ace's bakery.
It's during one of these shifts that a skinny little twerp comes in and hands him a job application.
(Rent and bills and Needle Needle Needle-)
It doesn't take Helix long to realize something is... off.
Ace tells him not to push it, but-
The kid's a good worker. Great, as a matter of fact. He's never late. Stays past closing, too, if they've had a rush. He tells Helix about his brother and nothing else.
(His brother hasn't come to visit.)
Everything that's not sold at the end of the day gets packaged up and given out. They only toss in the dumpster what's really, truly inedible- stuff that got dropped in the kitchen, scraps left over from customers-
He thinks it's raccoons, at first, until he peers in and sees Stitch flatten himself against a heap of bags in the corner.
They package up leftovers for him, after that. A bit more than leftovers, maybe. Ace sets aside sandwiches. Helix buys him a thermos and tells him it's been in the lost and found for over a year. They make sure he eats.
(Needle's getting transferred out of the ICU.)
Stitch is trying. He's doing everything he can, and more besides. But Needle's life is too expensive and he's buckling under the weight.
(He hasn't even grieved. Not really. No room. No time.)
Eventually, something has to give.
He does.
(He hadn't expected someone to be there to catch him.)
Featuring:
Helix stumbling into adopting first one, then two idiot kids
Ace being a supportive brother
Needle finding his way home
Mace Windu as Needle's (unfairly attractive, Helix thinks) neurologist
Obi-Wan as a hospital social worker who gets assigned Needle's file
Cody as Obi-Wan's husband, Helix's cousin, and children's book author (Stitch's favorite)
(listen I am WEAK for author!Cody, truly)
(Helix was totally the one who got them together and he regrets it every day of his life.)
Sheev Palpatine as the epitome of the evil of the American healthcare system
The Melidaan crew running a long-term, non-profit care facility that offers both in-patient and out-patient rehab services
16.) What are your writing strengths?
(I'VE PUT TOO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS. SHIT.)
17.) What are your writing weaknesses?
I am, apparently, really good at writing breakdowns. >:3
18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
Dialogue does not come easily to me. I have to work a bit to hit my stride. But I think it turns out well enough!
Hm. Coming from a purely technical perspective here, I think the reader should be able to understand everything that's spoken in a fic. If a character says something in another language, then I think the best way to convey that is, "X muttered something Y didn't catch," or, if the listener recognizes that it's at least in another language, "X muttered something in French."
If the reader should understand it, then something along the lines of: "'I knew we shouldn't have trusted him,' X muttered in French."
If the POV character doesn't understand the language, it doesn't make sense to provide the reader with a perfect transliteration of what the other character is saying. The character wouldn't have that knowledge. It can really take me out of the fic when two characters suddenly start conversing in written-out sentences in another language, and I have to scroll all the way down to the footnotes for translations.
19.) First fandom you wrote for?
But then again, that's just my opinion- I'm sure others have their own thoughts on this!
20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?
Harry Potter.
Hell, I have to say like lightning changing hands, if only because whatever fic I'm writing at the moment is my favorite. It's the act of creation that does it for me!
(Also because it's such a good opportunity to explore so many relationship dynamics.)
No-pressure tags for @jedi-enthusiast, @themonopolyhat, @shadow-pixelle, and @foreverchangingfandomsao3!
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the-drayster · 2 months
Note
Pelipper mail!
A sheet of construction paper cut into a heart (badly). Written on it, large, is “SELF LOVE /p”. Under it (significantly smaller) is “Happy late valentines. Hope you and Crispin had a good one :) -Drayton”
@arven-sada-turo
I LOVE YOU OTHER ME (Slash platonic)
We did!! I got him a Child. Quickball says hi.
Are you still being a dork about Arven by the way?
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octuscle · 6 months
Text
Now open under new management
Edward Parker III let the car window down a crack. Peter, his driver, had switched off the air conditioning to save fuel. The fuel gauge was basically at 0.00. Here in the middle of nowhere, they had no mobile network. The last Google message was that a petrol station would appear at some point. And Peter claimed that it should open in five minutes. Open from 10:40 am. Strange opening times. Edward's stomach grumbled. Something had gone wrong at breakfast. The car urgently needed a petrol pump. And he needed a toilet just as badly. Then, like an oasis in the desert, a building appeared in the middle of endless cornfields and pastures full of stupidly staring cattle. It was 10:39:50 a.m. when Peter steered the car onto the dusty filling station with the last drop of gas. At 10:40 sharp, Edward yanked open the car door and jumped out. And the moment his spotlessly clean Oxfords touched the ground, the neon sign flashed. Open!
Edward ran towards the small store where the neon sign was shining. He was far too focused on not wetting his pants that he didn't notice the leather soles of his shoes turning into a sturdy rubber tread. As he pushed down on the door handle, he got something like an electric shock. He didn't care. The store was empty. His palm became calloused. His fingernails black. There was a door at the back, labeled "Private". Hopefully there was a toilet. Thank God the door was open. And thank God there was a toilet. In the middle of a room full of tools, car tires and packages. It stank miserably. But Edward didn't care at all. He had already undone his belt while running, he opened his trousers, pulled them down and dropped onto the dirty toilet seat at the very last moment. And he had to shit like never before in his life. The stench was overwhelming. But the relief was immense. Edward finally relaxed again. But only for a second. Then his eyes fell on the dirty rubber boots that went well above his knees. Inside, pulled down as far as they would go, were a pair of completely filthy jeans. And what was even more irritating: his right hand was the hand of a construction worker, the cuff of his shirt had disappeared. And the fabric of the right sleeve of his jacket was getting coarser and dirtier from bottom to top and the color was slowly changing from navy blue to a kind of beige. What the hell was going on here? Even greater than the panic was the disgust at the stench. His left hand, still freshly manicured, reached for the toilet flush. And he was hit again. He watched in panic as his fingernails became dirty and the calluses moved down from his fingertips. Edward's gaze fell between his legs. That wasn't his circumcised shaved penis. That was a cheesy, hairy cock. Much bigger than it normally was. Edward had to get out of here! He hastily wiped his ass. A tight, hairy ass, sitting there on a familiar toilet seat. A man needs a good place to shit. Hehehe, this was a good shitter. Stumbling, Edward stood up, his head spinning. He looked in the mirror. That was still his head. But the rest? His crisp white collar and tie knot vanished into thin air, revealing a hairy, muscular chest. The last remnants of the finest navy blue wool on his left upper arm disappeared and the transformation of his jacket into a dirty, much-worn, rough work jacket was complete. I look like a fucking redneck, were his last thoughts before he grew a badly trimmed goatie, his $100 haircut turned into a self-cut buzzcut that he hid under a bandana he hadn't washed in a long time.
Loud honking from outside. "Damn, I've been shitting! Can't you wait?" yelled Edward. He wiped his hands on the dirty cloth stuck in his pants. Hand washing was for city wimps. He stepped into the yard of his gas station.
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Hehehe, he knew the filthy and dented truck standing there at the pump. "Pete's services of all kinds" was written on the door. And Pete was hanging in the cab with a visible bulge. "Eddy, don't you always promise the best service at your station," Pete said with a grin. Ed spit out the chewing tobacco and licked his lips. "Go ahead, gas station attendant. The belt buckle won't open by itself!"
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Full service and guaranteed customer satisfaction. That's what Ed's gas station was famous for.
Inspirations found @pitstainsandpas and @fanofshoes44
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gumnut-logic · 2 months
Note
🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?
🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?
::rolls up sleeves and brainstorms all over the keyboard::
If you want to do it, do it. Don't hide. Everyone had to start somewhere (wanna see my first ever fic? I was 18 and the internet did not exist, also, it was really badly written; you can find my second ever written fic here - its TOS Trek). We've all been there and we are all learning. Don't be scared, Thunderfam at least is here to support. For you fanartists out there, check out How I learnt Portraiture and then check out this post to prove that I can paint, honestly, really I can :D
If you do encounter negativity - block/ban. In fandom, if you can't say something nice, shut up and go away. Don't like, don't read, and mind your own business. I'm all for self curating your online experience. The only time constructive criticism is polite is when you know the person and they've asked. Like I have several members of Thunderfam I come screaming to while writing with the question, does this suck? These are my sanity checkers - Gavii, unfortunately you have taken on this mantle and suffer on a fairly regular basis. Nutty by name and nature.
Works in Progress - anyone who has known me here at all knows I leave a wake of WiPs behind me. Some I get back to, some, not so much (I promise to pull Alex out from under that building, I do!). WiPs are part of the way an artist works (I have so many in so many media, omigod). Because fanfic is published close to the leading edge of creation, its gonna happen. Fanfic is written for fun, after all. The key is to not let them beat you up in the head. Yes, there is unfinished stuff, but it doesn't mean you can't write something else in the meantime. Don't let it stop your muse. I am notorious for unfinished stuff and the real world hates it. But this isn't the real world, THIS IS FOR FUN. I know the marketing theories and the regularity of posting and popularity and what is at stake if either not enough is published regularly or if too much unfinished stuff disappoints the reader. But again, if you let the WiPs hang around your neck too much and badger you, they will drown you. It will become a job, a burden, something you hate. So don't pressure yourself. Work with your muse and see what you can wrangle out of it...at your own pace. You might be surprised what works.
The Terry Pratchett method - I don't know if it is true or not, but there is a post flying around Tumblr somewhere that claims Terry Pratchett, famous author, only aimed to write 400 words a day. This is something I have found extremely useful. If you want to write something, don't set the bar too high so you fail. Set it at a reachable level, even 200 words or 100 words. Honestly the hardest part is actually sitting down and starting. Before you know it you will have passed your low goal and blown it out of the water 3000 words later (my highest number of words in one day was 7000 - I tend to edit as I go, so it slows me down). Rarely do we have an entire day we can write, cos life keeps getting in the way. So do it in little bits. I'm doing this method with my crochet at the moment. Lots of little bits make big bits. This is how I've written many of my longer fics. Heh, I used to have fifteen minutes in the car before work, so I'd pull up on the side of the road and write as much as I could in that time. Sometimes having a limited time helps with that as well.
But the biggest thing you can do to improve your writing is to get to know yourself very well. I'm on the autism spectrum and likely have some forms of ADHD or Executive Dysfunction (I literally cried the day I found out it had a name as to why I couldn't finish things). It's taken me years to work out how to get work out of myself. How to avoid fighting myself (a fight I never win). To learn what works best for me and how I can herd the cats in my brain into them doing what I need them to do. Find out what makes you tick. Find out what sparks your muse, what way best enables you to write. Try different times of the day, different places, bribe yourself, time limit yourself, lock the family out of the room, go to the beach, write on paper, go mobile, write on your phone, scribble notes, anything that can get your brain doing what you want it to do. Sometimes reading fic can do it, showers and manual work are great for idea sparking - let the brain idle and it comes up with all sorts of interesting things. Very late night writing can be a doozy of a trip :D Find what works then do it - until it changes and you have to find it again because yes, my brain does that too, drat it.
And that is probably enough babbling from me :D I need to go find Virgil and a pick up with his name on it...or Gordon's...it's still gelling in my brain :D
I hope this helps someone, even just a tiny bit. Writing is hard work, don't let it drown you. Also, we all have up and down days, just because something sucks today, doesn't mean it will feel the same tomorrow. Never give up, never surrender, and if you do give up on one thing....ooh, look there's another one to play with.
Thank you for asking ::squishy hugs you lots::
Nutty
(who despite this will still have days where the writing will not work...in which case, I'm gonna do something else for a bit until brain decides it wants to play....stupid brain, do it on demand, you pile of goop)
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ankhmutes · 5 months
Text
Sunny's Boys: The Indecent Mr. Miller
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Joel Miller. Construction worker and handyman of King's River. He's definitely keeping himself busy ...
Chapter two of Sunny's Boys is under the cut please, minors DNI. thank you!
Warnings: badly written oral sex, and public sex (ish?) and protected P in V sex. I think that's it?
Sunny was not happy that her brothers were in town; they were definitely going to cramp her style. So she decided to take advantage of their lack of presence and see what she could get from the construction boys. More specifically, Mr. Joel Miller. He was the lead of the crew that usually came in on friday nights, ready for the weekend…..
“The usual, Mr. Miller?” you asked with your usual devilish grin, hoping to tempt him sometime. You felt it could be tonight, you felt it in your panties, from the way he smiled at you. He always had a drink, then a cup of coffee afterwards. He was so practical, predictable… and sexy. You knew he fucked half the girls in the town, and probably some of the lonely housewives as well, from what you had heard at the occasional smoke break from the bathroom window. You were surprised at how much the ladies would gossip when they thought they were alone in the bathroom. You couldn’t help yourself… you were curious. You had to see what it was all about. 
You grinned and leaned over to pull the best bottle of whiskey, and poured him a couple of fingers of whiskey over a large block of ice. You knew just how he liked his drinks. You were thrilled that he had come tonight, you had put on the perfect pair of panties– a pair you had eyed online and bought on an impulse, and they made you smile. You felt that this pair of panties were made only to be worn once… and that was tonight. 
“You know, I’ve heard some interesting things about you from some ladies.” you said with a smile, setting down the glass on a napkin. 
“That so?” he asked as he looked right at you with his brown eyes. You licked your lips. You liked how this was going. This was just like Shane, but nicer energy. Dirty, and down for a game, no strings attached, but not as demanding. Shane was fun, but he required so much attention, and you liked to be spoiled… or spoil others, you thought as you swallowed at the thought of what lay beneath the denim. 
“Mm-hm.” you murmured as you walked down the bar to give Rick Grimes a bud light, turning to wink at Joel and saunter off over to the Dixon Brothers playing pool in the corner. You smile at Daryl and Merle, refilling Daryl’s coke and Merle’s beer, bantering with Merle as you let him call you sugar-tits and sweetheart, and whatever else comes out of his mouth. You knew men like him, they were fairly harmless as long as you knew how to handle them. After all, you had grown up around men, having two older brothers. You grin at Merle and threaten to cut him off if he doesn’t behave, and he quiets down, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray. 
You make your way to the Teller table, saying your hello to the mechanics, giggling at Jax and Opie’s running commentary on the shit that Tig had pulled in the shop that kept him and Chibs at the shop tonight. You told the boys you’d pack a couple drinks and burgers to go for them if they were coming back to the shop. That earned you a fifty dollar tip, and you didn’t ask questions. You loved those boys, but knew if you asked questions, the tips would stop coming. 
“You’re a busy girl tonight, aren’t you?” Mr. Miller commented as you made your way back behind the counter, putting the orders in the register. You nodded with a sly grin, looking up at Joel as you leaned forward, just enough for him to stare down your shirt right at the lace on the cups of your pink lacy bra. 
“I’m busy- but not too busy for a quick break tonight, enough for a …. Nice snack.” you say with the confidence of a Winchester. It was clear you had gotten Joel’s attention, at least. Joel licked his lips slowly and cocked his brow with a slow lazy grin that slowly turned predatory. You shivered, seeing the heat in his eyes. 
“I like snacks.” Joel said with a nod. “I’m a very patient man.” Joel leaned back in his seat, eyeing the rest of the bar. It was a slow night, but not as slow as he would have liked it to be, you could see it from the way he eyed all of the other clientele. “People like you need to fuck people like me.” Joel said cockily as he sipped his drink.
“As long as Dixon behaves, I’m sure it’ll slow down.” you say with confidence and a bit of heat coloring your words as you wink at Joel, waving at Rick, who put down his card for his tab. You take the card and slide it through the machine, thanking Rick for being so sweet and patient, being sure to slide your pink manicured nails slowly over his hand as you hand back the card. You could see Rick swallow slightly, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he put his card back in his wallet. You watched Rick saunter out of the roadhouse, your eyes moving to the Dixons, who were getting louder as time went by. You let out a sigh, and tilted your head over at the Dixons. 
“Can you take care of that problem for me? I’ll make your food on the house for you if you do.”  you tell the T & M boys, who all shared a look and and smirked. “Behave! You know the Dixons are all bark and no bite.” 
“Oh no, girl- we know, because we are the bite around here.” Jax said with a smirk, winking at you as he nudged Opie, the two boys sauntering over to the pool table. You didn’t want to hang around for that part, grateful that Rick had already left so no one would be arrested tonight. You hurried to the back to get the bags of food, slipping in a sexy note on a napkin for Tig and Chibs, making sure to kiss it with your pink lipstick, thanking them for being such wonderful customers of the Roadhouse. 
“Here you go, boys.” you say brightly, hurrying out of the back with the bags packed in a cardboard box,  for the T & M boys, making sure to give Jax and Opie a kiss on the cheek each, your lipstick shining brightly on their cheeks. 
“Anytime, sunshine.” Jax nodded and took the box, cheering at the sight of a six-pack of Miller Lite as a bonus, the door slamming behind them. You knew Bobby wouldn’t mind the extras, keeping the regulars happy guaranteed a steady income, as long as no questions were asked, of course. 
“Ready to settle up, boys?” you ask as you take two large mugs of steaming coffee over to the Dixons. Merle grunted a comment you didn’t quite hear, but you were sure you didn’t want to hear it anyway. Daryl nodded and put down a 50, telling you to keep the change for your tip. You nodded and kissed Daryl on the cheek, telling Merle he can get his kiss later when he behaves next time, calling him a naughty boy, with a saucy wink to show him that you weren’t entirely too upset with him…. This time. The Dixons left after that, leaving you and Joel alone in the bar, or at least alone until the next set of regulars showed up, the late-nighters from the casino over on the Rez, and the hospital staff. 
You sauntered up lazily to Joel, leaning against the bar as you gave him a good look-over. Joel smirked as he leaned back in his chair. You glanced at his drink and on impulse, you picked up the glass and drained it of its contents in a quick gulp, licking your lips as the glass was placed softly back on the napkin. 
“What’s on the menu?” Joel asked as he stared right into you, down to your wet core. You could feel the heat in his eyes as they moved slowly over your body, as if he was undressing you with his eyes ever so carefully. 
“We’ve got maybe a half hour, can I interest you in a quick snack?” you smirked as you let your body do the talking. “It’s…. All you can eat.” you say as you hop up on the bar, making sure your legs were spread ever so slightly. Joel took the hint, smirking as he slid himself in between your legs. You weren’t exactly sure what happened, but him kissing slowly up your inner thigh was bliss. His beard tickled all in the right places as you felt his hot breath tease over the cloth that hid your wet slick from him. 
“All I can eat, hmm?” Joel asked with a cocky smirk as he looked up at you, hiking up your skirt and eyeing the pink thong, tearing it off in a quick motion, burying his face in your wet warmth, licking you right up so you wouldn’t leak on the counter. He set you just on the edge, his mouth and tongue doing fast work on keeping your slick flowing. Leaning back, you could hear the metal of his belt clinking, a zipper unzipping and you leaned forward to take a peek. 
He was loaded. Definitely loaded, you thought as you eyed the monster that had been lying dormant all along. Joel grabbed a condom from his pocket, fitting it sunugly on his cock. 
“I’m polite. I wouldn’t want to make a mess for you to clean up.” he said with a shrug as he slid his hands up, cupping your ass as he slid you off the bar, and right on his cock. You felt your soul leave your body, the way he filled you up… 
It was indescribable. You could see angels sing, and you didn’t want him to stop. You held on for dear life, sliding up and down on his dick, riding him like the dirty man he was. Your breasts bounced with each stroke of his cock, his mouth hungrily nibbling at your boobs, leaving marks everywhere. You held on, your arms around him and your hands gripped him hard, scratching up his back as you came as you rode him, your pink nails marking your presence on his back. If the scratches had bothered him, you couldn't tell or even care, you were feeling bliss on his dick.
You didn’t mind, not after he slid out of you and bent you over the bar stool, fucking you hard, practically plowing you into the bar. You couldn’t hold back the whimpers and they filled the empty bar, accompanied with the sound of flesh smacking flesh. You nearly cried at the feel of his balls slapping against your wet dripping cunt, and you couldn’t hold back. 
“Joel.” you cried, tears running down your cheeks at how hard you were coming, the wetness pulsing around his cock as he let out a loud groan, and you gushed around his cock, wetness dripping off of his drenched cock as he slowly slid out of you. 
“Fuck.”
“Clean ‘em up and maybe we can have round two after closing.” Joel said as he cleaned himself up, throwing away everything in the large bin behind the counter. You wordlessly nodded, wondering what the night would bring… 
“Jesus, Sunny, you gotta stop this. You got a problem.” Dean whined as he met Joel at your hotel room door. Joel was just leaving, buttoning up his flannel shirt. “Joel.”
“Dean. Sam.” Joel said with a smirk and nod, pulling on his tattered cap. “Don’t worry, she’s decent.” Joel chuckled as he left the hotel room, rolling your eyes at your brothers as you went up to the door, leaning against the door-frame clad in your fuzzy pajama pants and tank top, and holding the door open for Dean and Sam. 
“Don’t worry, I won’t fuck the whole town. I’ve got standards, you know. I can’t help it. It’s the Winchester charm they all fall for. You’d know that, wouldn’t you, Dean?”
“Shut up.” Sam whined as he thrust a bag of donuts in your direction. “Don’t encourage him.”
“It’s not like I’m challenging him to a screw-off or something. That would be gross, you need to grow up. I just got needs… and intel.” you said with a giggle as you dug into the bag of donuts. You’d let your brothers suffer just a tiny bit until you told them what you had learned about King’s River from Joel. Apparently, Joel fucking bored and lonely housewives had some benefits for the case you were working on with your brothers. 
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lchufflepuffcorn · 4 months
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Meeting you pt. 7
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(Not my gif, credits go to its owner/creator)
Author's note: Hi !! I think it's been like a year or so since I posted anything about this series... It's been worked on, don't worry, I'm just awful at being consistent.
Words: 2716
Warning: None... longing... badly written emotions... all other warnings from this series...
Masterlist OGW Masterlist
Serie Masterlist
Part one Part two, Part three, Part four, Part five, Part six, Part seven.
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In the night's secret
No sound but the wind- Editors
↺͏͏         ◁◁͏͏        ll       ▷▷        ⋮≡
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It took a little while for the three vampires to plan the perfect cover story for their situationship. Philadelphia was really the town of miracles for Alice's imagination. She'd come up with the story that Jasper was her brother and that (Y/N) was her sister-in-law. It always bothered (Y/N) that the short girl with her was so good at covering up the truth. But this time, the story was adequate and sensible for humans to understand. 
Soon after leaving Philadelphia, the trio stayed in Toronto for a short time. The trio resided in a two-story building owned by a lovely older couple, who took them in without asking many questions. 
"My brother doesn't talk much." Or "My sister-in-law is so discreet." Would say Alice when they were shown the apartment. The lovely -but quite nosy- Mrs. Grant quieted down after that. And (Y/N) remembered why she disliked living with humans all over again. Because the biting envy and bubbling thirst (Y/N) felt from Jasper was one thing, combining it with Alice's and the poignant curiosity from their neighbours was nothing short of unbearable. 
Jasper was not much of a talker, and added to what (Y/N) knew from Alice's vision was not helping her communicate with the man. But the crisp and cold waves of nervousness she could feel wave off of him each time they talked weren't either. 
Every time. (Y/N) knew that the conversations he forced on them were out of duty and under the encouragement given by Alice more than anything else. 
It usually looked like this: 
“It was nice today.” 
"Hmm. Yes, the wind wasn’t as bad as yesterday.” 
Or: 
“What did you buy at the market?” 
“Oh, just some clothes. You really need some new ones too…” 
But slowly, the cold, shaky feeling echoing in her chest melted into a sparkling and lukewarm wind behind the skin of her neck, and the conversations started to center around things they both liked. 
 And then, after some months, (Y/N), Jasper, and Alice went to Alberta, where they had no trouble constructing their own small house not too far from the Slave River. It was hidden from society, perfect for the diet (Y/N) was trying to convert the other two. 
And then, after some months, (Y/N), Jasper, and Alice went to Alberta, where they had no trouble constructing their own cabin. Situating it not far from the Slave River to add to the illusion of their rustic lifestyle. It was mostly hidden from society, perfect for the diet in which (Y/N) tried to convert the other two. It was also less complicated for Jasper to control his thirst for human blood if no humans were around. Plus, the surroundings were beautiful. (Y/N) liked hearing the birds in the early morning and having water run nearby. 
''East from here, there's three of 'em.'' Jasper's voice said, floating in the wind and through the bushes around them. 
The three of them were running in the forest, searching for prey. Jasper had smelled some moose earlier, but now they were chasing a bear and her cubs. (Y/N) did not hunt with the others often. She preferred to do it alone. But it was always fun to see how Alice and Jasper would try and compete for the first kill every time. While she didn't participate in their games, she liked watching them. It brought life to their undead lifestyle. 
Running through the tall grass and between the tree's roots easily, (Y/N) spotted a rabbit. She lounged at it with ease. It didn't bother her that the animal was little. Smaller animals were more accessible for her to catch without butchering her clothes. (Y/N) didn't like to get dirt on her. Plus, rabbits never travelled alone. She would have plenty to feel full at the end of the hunt, and she wasn't in a hunting mood today, so it played in her favour. 
It had been months since Jasper joined Alice's and (Y/N)'s little clan. He'd been charming and kind and helpful. Even if he thought it hard to change his diet -he often complained about how the animal blood tasted- he still tried his best. It was January seventeen now. A new year had started, yet Alice was deflating each day more to see that neither of her companions wasn't getting any closer. She found it infuriating.
Alice had seen hopeful moments, like when Jasper renovated the cabin. He'd taken (Y/N) words and requests to heart. Or when (Y/N) had consoled Jasper about one of his slip-ups, her hands brushing through his hair as he cursed himself in low growls. (Y/N) had nothing but encouraging words to give him. Then, of course, she gave him a stern talk about how she controlled herself by thinking about things humans did when she couldn't see them. Or again, when he was reading on the porch and (Y/N) was lost in her world, humming a melody only she knew. Alice had to confess that she'd never seen Jasper smile so softly before that afternoon.
(Y/N) liked to think that Jasper took his time to court her. She liked it that way. They had all the time in the world anyway. As she caught a second bunny, plunging her sharp teeth through the fur and into the skin until its still-warm blood flowed into her mouth, (Y/N) got a glimpse of the naked ring finger on her left hand. The familiar shine hadn't caught her eyes as it would usually have.
She'd removed the enormous wedding ring from her finger two months ago, preferring to wear it around the chain on her neck, where too rested a medallion with the triplet's picture.
''Ahah! You owe me ten dollars, Whitlock.''
Alice's laugh took (Y/N) out of her reverie. She looked in the direction her voice came from. The vampire couldn't see them anymore, but she knew they would come back in her direction soon enough. She let go of the now-empty rabbit she was still holding.
Raising from her spot on a tree root, she patted her dress to remove whatever could still stick to the fabric. Jasper's head popped out from behind the bushes. An amused smile lit up his face as he looked over the pixie-like vampire. The blond man stopped as he reached (Y/N)'s height, offering her his arm.
''If I could have the pleasure, miss.'' He said with a smile on the corner of his smile. (Y/N) responded to his smile with one of her own.
''If I must.'' (Y/N) teased the man, accepting his arm by wrapping her own around it. 
The comfortable warmth of the calm he feels, yet a subtle hint of burning cold passion that resists in the pit of his stomach, made her eyes shine. The group walked back to their cabin. Their slow pace is now a sharp contrast to their earlier race. 
''We'll have to get new shoes; you can't be comfortable in those old things,'' Alice called, referring to the boots (Y/N) wore. They were from her time as a nurse for the Second World War. Those boots were still in perfect condition. The older woman wasn't letting her things get hideous or unwearable. Still, she obliged at Alice's request.
''I think we could go in town this week.'' (Y/N)'s butterflies now associated with Alice exploded in her stomach as the girl's face illuminated with a smile. The tiny vampire held onto the other girl's hand before stopping all of her movement.
(Y/N) stopped walking to ensure that Alice wouldn't tumble over the snowy ground. Jasper stopped, too, getting closer to the girl in alarm. He was still getting used to Alice's gift. One of his hands met the small of (Y/N)'s back to help walk over some roots, but Jasper's attention was on Alice too. 
''It's alright.'' She assured, starting to walk again.
''What is it?'' (Y/N)'s tone was worried. Since the other girl had revealed to Jasper and her that they were mates, (Y/N) had asked Alice not to hold secrets about her visions anymore. Especially if it concerned other people. But Alice only smiled at her, walking to the cabin. Jasper, ever the gentleman, held the door of the cabin open for both girls to enter it. He closed and locked the door behind him after following them inside. 
 Jasper was never much of a talker. So the girls had come to realize. But it was alright. His actions spoke louder than every word he could have said. The man walked to where both the girls were seated, but he stayed back a little. On the table was resting the piece of a rocking chair he was building at the moment; he took place behind it.
''We'll have a visitor soon.'' Said Alice before (Y/N) could reiterate her question.
''Visitor?'' Quipped Jasper, ''in this part of the woods?'' Alice shot him a smile.
''(Y/N)'s old friend, my mate, I think.'' This got (Y/N)'s attention. She, too, was wondering why they'd have a visitor so far from civilization. There were only two people who knew their location, and those people were Thade and Esther. The older vampire's face darkened with a frown.
''Which friend?'' She asked. Her hand went to the necklace she wore, holding onto the locket hiding the triplet's picture. Not all of her friends were recommendable frequentations. But Alice only smiled and rose to leave the room. (Y/N) sighed but couldn't ask anything more.
The cabin was somewhat small. Not that the vampires minded it. It was big enough to maintain purpose: not living outside like homeless people. They might not be in any states now, but they could still live comfortably. It had one large room and two smaller ones behind the wall. It gave them the chance to have their place if need be.
Her ring finger slipped into the wedding monument she still had, then back out. A comforting habit (Y/N) took since she started wearing it around her neck. 
So it couldn't be Thade, that was for sure. But, on the other hand, Thade has been married to Esther ever since (Y/N) could remember meeting both of them. So maybe it was Gabriel. Last she'd heard of him, he was somewhere in France teaching history at a university. So that left – in the reasonable choices of friends (Y/N) would leave Alice with – either Gregory or Elliot. But would Gregory come to visit her out there in the woods? Esther, she knew the man was still bitter from their encounter during the First World War, as she was on the Allies' side, and he was on the Nazis.
That only left Elliot.
''What are yeh thinkin' about?'' Asked Jasper from his seat. He could feel her doubt just as she could feel his concern for her. (Y/N) turned her gaze to the man. He was still working on the rocking chair's part. Jasper's eyes shot up in her direction, staying for a second before wandering away. 
''I wondered which of my friends was to be Alice's mate.'' She answered honestly.
The man hummed.
Jasper's hair seemed more strawberry blond in the candle's light than the honey colour they had in the sunlight. His frozen features, kinder in the natural glow, were darkened by the dancing shadow of the flame. The now yellowish eyes he now had matched his hair. (Y/N) could only imagine just what the man's past was to make his face so stoic and emotionless while she could feel every change in Jasper's humour. Even from where she sat, the woman could see on his arm -uncovered as he worked, littered with bite marks. (Y/N) never asked about it, just like neither of the vampires with her wondered about her story. They didn't know about Alice. She could not remember anything from her past except for her first name.
''I meant to ask,'' continued the man after a short silence. ''What's in the locket? You always play with it.''
''Old memories.'' (Y/N) rose from her seat and walked to the table, taking place in the chair facing Jasper.
Usually, the seemingly young woman had no trouble talking about her experience and life. Some things were too hard to speak about, and nobody had ever asked. 
(Y/N) wasn't proud enough to assume her story could interest him more than any other. Tugging the long gold chain gently from her dress to present the locket better to the man in front of her, (Y/N) opened the locket to show the picture inside.
Alice shuffled closer to the both of them. 
Three small boys were staring at Jasper and Alice now, a serious expression on their juvenile faces. The man thought they couldn't be much older than eight or nine years old. He guessed that it had been taken late in the eighteen-fifties, early sixties, from the black and white picture and their clothes.
"The first boy on the right is John, the second, the one with the hat's George, and the last one on the left is Lowett." (Y/N) let Jasper take the locket in his and, it wasn't to see any better the photos, but more like a reflex.
"Were they yours?" He asked. The man could see little resemblance between the triplets and the woman sitting before her in the rocking chair. But there was still something in the expression and the posture that reminded him of her.
''In a way,'' (Y/N) answered. "I didn't birth them or bite them, but they were my children nonetheless." 
Jasper's eyes met hers. Alice smiled and got up. She silently walked to one of the other rooms, closing the door. She knew of this story and didn't want to put (Y/N) in more stress with her emotions in the room again. 
''They were vampires?'' (Y/N) smiled at Jasper's expression. But, then, his incertitude swung in her throat like a monkey to a branch. She shook her head.
''They didn't live long. And brought my creator's death with theirs.'' Jasper's expression didn't change. He looked conflicted. (Y/N) continued, shrugging. ''It doesn't matter now. It was a long time ago.'' 
''And the ring?''
(Y/N)'s smile faltered a little at his question. Then, from the other room, they heard Alice sigh. Her disappointment was bitter in the other girl's throat. ''It was my wedding ring when I was still human.''
Jasper went quiet after that, concentrating back on the rocking chair part. (Y/N)'s eyes followed his movement; she tucked the neckless back into the collar of her dress. Outside, the sun was already setting, and from the windows, the woman could see the timid shine of the slow rising of the moon in the sky. 
She suddenly felt the nip of boredom in the back of her chest. Like she was dragging the world around with her. It made her realize just how cruelly their house missed books, games, and music. If only she'd asked Esther to send her the harp she'd left in her care. But it was too late now. Her friend and Thade were travelling the world in search of his past. The man had felt the need to reconnect with his civilization now that the Second World War had ended. 
Maybe they could buy a radio once they'd gone to town. But, then, the music would fill the house at every hour of the day. (Y/N) missed the time when giggles would fill the homes she was in. She missed her son. 
Sons. 
Cocking her head slightly to the side, her hands resting on the table. The woman's eyes slowly clouded; Jasper recognized the look for when he'd meet her dazing out outside the house. He decided not to push his questioning further and worked silently on the rocking chair again. Alice came out of the room, her gaze unfocused but lucid enough to walk. When she didn't have full-blown visions, she would sometimes lose herself in the pathways of many shifting decisions of the people around her. 
In the silence, (Y/N) isn't aware that she started humming. Her finger played with the locket she'd tucked in her collar. It was a habit she couldn't seem to lose now. She hums the song Alice heard her sing to Esther years ago, and the girl can't help but sigh. 
Jasper just smiled. 
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navree · 1 year
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Why do people (especially here in tumblr) hate Tyrion so much?
I mean, from what I've seen, quite a lot of people like Tyrion, considering he's a well written character and his storylines are both some of the most compelling and the most central to one of the two core plots (the politics side of ASOIAF, while Jon's the one most central to The Others side). I think we also need to divide it up into show Tyrion and book Tyrion, because the reason people dislike show Tyrion is that he turned into a little idiot once D&D had to actually write out his plans himself and it's incredibly frustrating to watch him continually be such a fuck up but the narrative still treating him like he's in the right. Also his issues with Dany make no sense even before The Bells, which is also a heavy factor.
For book Tyrion, I mentioned it in a prior ask, but Tyrion's chapters can be genuinely hard to read. Tyrion is incredibly misogynistic - I don't consider this a flaw in the writing, GRRM is being incredibly purposeful with it and it's there for a reason and a lot of his actions are understandable, and Tyrion where he is in the books right now is in the midst of a darkening downward spiral for the furtherance of his arc - and even ignoring his actions, his constant thinking about how he wants to be violent towards various women he dislikes or sexually assault them (him constantly talking about wanting to rape and kill Cersei for thinking that he killed Joffrey when he knows she genuinely believes it, unlike Tywin who was using it as an excuse to get rid of him is particularly galling for me) can literally be draining. For me at least, it can be an actual trial to get through some of Tyrion's chapters, not just because the misogyny he exhibits is so constant, but also because this isn't a way of thinking that's isolated to ASOIAF.
The series tackles very real world issues, but still within the confines of a world and system most readers are never going to experience. It is highly unlikely that most of the readers are going to experience what it's like to live under a feudal system modeled on Middle Ages Europe and all the issues that entails, but men who feel that women owe them sex just cuz they're having it with another man (like Tyrion says to Cersei in ACOK), men who hit a significant other for saying the wrong thing (like Tyrion does to Shae in either ACOK or ASOS), men who take their own anger at their misperceptions out on other women (like Tyrion killing Shae in ASOS), men who immediately feel sexually violent when angry at women (like how Tyrion thinks about Cersei in ADWD), men who still have sex with women who are clearly not into it or in a position to consent because their pleasure matters more to them (like Tyrion with the slave in ADWD)? Those are very real men, that any female reader of ASOIAF can run into or have in her life.
There's also other stuff, I don't know how popular these reasons are but this is from my perspective, that Tyrion does that sometimes make me roll my eyes, mostly just things like not realizing that summarily banishing Janos might read badly to the general populace, or his tendency to be kinda rude to people who serve him like Pod (he's highborn, it's not unexpected but still aggravating), or even the fact that, for as smart as he is, he's nowhere near as smart as he thinks he is, especially when it comes to interacting with other people. Again, all of these are purposeful parts of Tyrion's character, they're not being done accidentally, but if I'm looking at Tyrion as a person, separate from a character constructed by an author (which I do generally try to do, since I think there's a difference between liking a character as a character and liking them as a person, similar to how I can find certain historical figures interesting but still dislike who they were as people), these also aren't things I particularly like about him.
I've said this before, but I don't think Tyrion is all bad. There's stuff I like about his arc, about how he's written, about what he means as a character and the things he does, and his place in the narrative, but as a person? No, I don't like Tyrion, and the reasons I don't like Tyrion are reasons that other people do share. It can be tough spending time in his head, what with all the aforementioned misogyny, and that can be enough of a turn off for people, especially socially conscious readers or female readers who have to deal with the real life misogyny Tyrion's is inspired from. That doesn't mean that no one likes Tyrion (most people I know actually do like him quite a lot, and he's an incredibly popular character, as well as the author's personal favorite), or that someone's a bad person for liking him, but there are reasons for the dislike some people have, and for me at least, these are mine.
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