#I may need to fully reflect on it later

[an-internet-introvert]

Help

#woop woop #I finally watched the new video #I eventually got to a point where I wanted to watch the video #I don't know #It has been an off couple of days where nothing has really been sparking joy for me #it was a good video though #I may need to fully reflect on it later #but I still don’t feel I was my complete self when I was watching it #idk #it did bring a small bit of joy making gifs though #still a bit of that void vibe in me though #dan and phil #dnp #danandphil #amazingphil #danandphilgames #dan and phil games #phan #daniel howell #dnp gifs #my gifs

[3hks]

Writing Character CHANGE

Character development is absolutely CRUCIAL to a story, but having spent more time thinking about this topic, I came to the realization that I misunderstood a lot of points other people have made when teaching how to write character development.

There are a lot of factors that play into character development, but in this post, I'll cover some overall, but the main thing concerns any change to your character! (Which is also a huge part in development, really.)

So with this post, I'll be teaching you MY personal tips regarding this subject!

*The Basics*

Before we really get into the developmental stage, there are some things you want to establish, in which I'll explain later!

A couple of flaws.

How your character views themselves at first.

Your character's morals/ideals and how they think.

These things may vary, but you want your readers to be able to at least roughly predict how your character will act during specific events!

*Change*

Character development is just about how your character changes throughout the story. I like to say that there are several different ways one may change, (we'll get into that later on) but your character should NOT stay the same as the same person during the exposition and during the resolution!

"During character development, your character should grow."

This is a common piece of advice; your character needs to grow. And while I've assumed for the longest time that I understood what it meant, it never truly clicked.

While they will use words such as grow, what they really mean is that your character should mature. By the end of your story, your character may not always end up as a better person. When I say mature, I mean that they have reflected back on their life and have understood the consequences that came with their actions (if any) or how they could've done things differently.

Your character will not always end up as a better, fixed person, but they should understand their world and themselves better.

*Negative/Passive Change*

Alright then, so how does a character develop if they don't necessarily change for the better? Well, I'll get into that!

No matter what, your character should have learned a lesson through their experience. Even if they haven't exactly improved as a person, there should be a moral they can learn from what they have gone through.

If not, then did they really grow?

Additionally, how did their qualities negatively impact themselves? If they are bad traits, then it needs to be clear. And the best way to achieve this is by demonstrating how it hurts your character! However, it is rather uncommon for a character to undergo little to no change after a story!

*Positive Change*

Let's circle back to the basics, real quick. Remember how I said that before any development takes place, your character should be anything but perfect? That same thing applies to after the change.

Do NOT create a flawless character by the end of your story. Instead, focus on one or two flaws that get fixed as the story continues. These don't have to be huge, life-changing imperfections, but they can be minor ones that still shape their life in one way or another.

"Fixing" too many shortcomings can make your character seem, well, out of character, producing a character development that's more forced. The same thing applies if you're attempting to FULLY alter a fault that's just too big. The change will be too noticeable.

What am I talking about? Here's an example!

Imagine a character who's incredibly closed off to other people, wanting to ensure that he never gets too close to others.

That's a pretty sizable flaw, no? By the end of your story, you do not want to completely change because you need to preserve character, but you can change it a bit. Does he have a few friends now? Does he understand that there are some people worth trusting?

He may still be closed off to majority of people, but at least it's not everyone, and that's a realistic change.

*Different Changes*

As I continue to read more stories and watch more shows, I have realized that character development is not always about fixing flaws or personality, but it can extend far past that line.

So listen up, because I feel like no one really talks about this.

Your character can change their IDEALS, MORALS, and how they VIEW THEMSELVES.

Hear that? If your character has strong morals, they will hardly stay the same as they reach the end. Remember the requirements I mentioned at the beginning?

See how it connects now? There is SO much more to character development than changing a few imperfections. Like I said in the start, your character needs to grow and mature. Things like new morals or ideals assist with that!

*SUMMARY*

In order to start character development, you need a couple of flaws, an idea of how your character looks at themselves, and their morals. This is because those are the main parts of you character that may change through time.

Growth = Maturing (gaining a better sense of who they are and the world they live in.)

NOT ALL CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT IS POSITIVE!

For negative or passive change, make sure to clarify how their imperfections affected or hurt them and have some sort of moral that follows.

YOUR CHARACTER SHOULD NOT BE PERFECT!

They should not be perfect in the beginning, and not perfect in the end! Do not 'fix' too many traits because you want to preserve character.

I think that's all! It's quite the post for something so simple, eh? But hey, character development is absolutely PIVOTAL to a story so I hope I at least explained the 'change' part of that well!

Happy writing~

3hks <3

#writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #writing tips #creative writing #writing inspo #writing advice #character writing #writing characters development #character development #character change #writing characters change #character building #tips on character development #tips on character building #advice on character building #advice on character development

[buckets-and-trees]

I’m so happy to see you back on my feed 😍 An ask for your sleepover! Do Cedar Trees!Steve and his Queen have any ::ahem:: spring rituals*? 👀

*Make it dirty lollll.

Title: Love That's Laid Beside Me

Collection: CEDAR TREES Characters/Pairings: King!Steve Rogers x Queen!Reader Word Count: 5k

Summary: With the first spring equinox, Steve shares a tradition from his past before he was royal. You broach something that's been on your mind for your future.

Content & Warnings: royal au, discussion of children, explicit smut - NATURE/OUTDOOR SEX (bahaha YAY), nipple play, cock stroking, brief cock warming, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, slight dirty talk (it's still royal Steve, so...), breeding kink, potential pregnancy

Logistical Notes: I knew the second you dropped this in my askbox that I wanted outdoor sex for the spring equinox, and when I started it, it was timely, but I have worked on this installment of their story now for six or seven weeks. I've rewritten it a couple of times, wrestled with parts of the emotional journey. Steve surprised me in the middle portion by opening up with a lot more nostalgia than I knew was going to insert itself into the story. And then with the rest of their conversation for the final third of the story, I went back to the drawing board a few times. Thank you @biteofcherry and @stargazingfangirl18 for being instrumental in talking through what I was working on with Steve and his queen at vital points when I needed it!

Narrative Notes: Steve and his queen were married in June, and this takes place during their first spring together. To read previous pieces chronologically, refer to the masterlist of this collection's pieces.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You look up sharply at the sound of your name. “Mmm?”

“You seem distracted, my love,” Steve says, his brow furrowed in concern.

You shake your head slightly. “I am sorry, it was perhaps a longer day than I anticipated it would be.”

“We can dispense with the dessert course if you are too weary,” Steve suggests.

You scoff. “Dare not speak of such a thing!”

He chuckles, and you smile broadly at him. “I withdraw the proposition,” he says, his eyes sparkling with mirth for a moment.

But as you both savor the exquisite chocolate mousse presented a few minutes later, you notice his frequent gaze on you is more scrutinizing. You do your best to engage again in the conversation.

Truthfully, you have been distracted, but you did not wish to draw his concern. In part it is because you do not want him to worry about you, but more so you yourself do not want to dwell on the issue that has begun to encroach on the edges your thoughts these past weeks. But the exquisite taste of chocolate and his striking blue eyes do serve to draw you back into the moment.

You do your best to gracefully scrape every last bit of mousse from the small crystal goblet, and once the service is cleared away, Steve stands and extends his hand toward you. You stand and go to him. This is familiar now.

He draws your hand to his lips, presses a kiss to the backs of your fingers, then tucks your hand in the crook of his arm. “May I escort you to your chambers to retire for the evening?”

“Yes, of course, my king,” you respond warmly and fall into step with him, leaving the dining room behind.

You have fallen into certain routines after dinner, and while the two of you do not do the very same thing each night, you do spend nearly all your evenings together, the only exception if he must be away on royal business. This evening you read while he sketches before darkness seeps through the windows and you two begin to get ready for bed.

Once you’re both fully freed from the entrapments of your elaborate day wardrobes, you catch Steve studying you again through the reflection of the mirror as you stand in front of your vanity.

“What is that look?” you ask, frowning at him.

“You are very quiet tonight.”

“Again, I am sorry, I must be tired.”

You can see in his eyes that part of him wants to press you further, but he chooses not to. At least not about that.

“Too tired for a little adventure?” he asks.

You turn and fix him with a playfully scrutinizing look. “Pray tell what adventure a king thinks he can get up to in the twilight hour when he’s in his bedclothes?”

“Come with me and find out.”

His eyes are full of mischief, and there is no way you could resist him with that look on his face.

He picks up your velvet cloak and hands it to you before donning his own.

You reach for some boots.

“No,” he stops you, “no shoes.”

“Barefoot?”

“Slippers should do.”

He grins and reaches for your hand. The two of you go hand in hand as you sneak out of your chambers. Steve gives the men standing guard a look that says they are not to appear to know the two of you have left or which way you have gone unless the situation is dire. As king and queen, you can only be so discreet on this adventure as you pass enough guards and servants that your movements cannot in any way be a secret. But it is still a bit of a thrill to skirt through the castle swiftly in the dark, fingers twined together, escaping out onto the grounds. You wind through the gardens as dusk turns starts to turn to darkness, beyond the stables and more gardens, past the royal orchard, and across even more ground until you ultimately reach a thicket of trees. This, you know, is the south side of the royal grounds, and if not for an eventual stone wall to secure the castle, it could have been any common forest you were ambling into.

The moonlight is just beginning to cast its silvery glow across the night, and it only adds another layer to the novelty of the moment. The two of you follow an almost-path into the trees, and it continues further than you expect it to go. It is clear Steve is familiar with this path, his steps through the trees and the brush steady and sure.

As you move along, your steps hadn’t been rushed once you’d escaped the castle proper, but Steve starts to slow significantly, and you step closer to him with the relaxed pace, able to walk with him rather than follow through this part of the landscape that is new to you. Steve brings your hand up to press a kiss to the back of it and smiles down at you.

“When I was young, my ma used to try and find ways to lift our spirits. We were so poor, but she never wanted us to want for reasons to be happy. She thought it important to make any occasions special as they came our way with our own rituals and traditions.”

Married less than a year, you are still learning much about each other in this relationship – there were so many things in the present, you had spoken of some hopes for the future, and much of the vast troves of the past lay behind you to explore. You knew his father had been killed as a soldier in a war between kingdoms when he was still a toddling child, and his mother had been lost to a plague just before he’d come of age. The few times he’d spoken of his mother, it had always been with such warmth that it made your heart swell and grew your affection for him even more.

“I don’t remember how old I was when she started this tradition, but one night instead of having me get ready for bed, she bundled me up enough to keep me from catching cold in the March evening air, put on her own cloak, and we ventured out into the night, just outside of the village, and into the forest. It was the spring equinox, and she said if we walked into the clearing, left an offering, and made a wish, then the magic that came with the awakening of spring would make that wish come true.”

He'd stopped at some point during those words, and as you look around, you see you are in a very small break in the trees – not quite big enough to be called a clearing.

There weren’t big festivities and royal duties around the equinoxes in the kingdom as there were for the solstices, but there were still rituals and traditions in the days leading up to and following, so you knew the significance of this day, and tonight was the last night where darkness held equal balance with the day, and then daylight would take the reigns for its share of the year.

“I love that you’ve kept that tradition in her remembrance,” you say, running your other hand up and down his forearm. “What sort of offerings did you leave?”

“It would depend on the year,” he responds, plaintive in thought, “sometimes whatever small token we could scrounge, others perhaps a specially baked good or honey if we could spare it. When I began to draw in earnest, sometimes I would leave a sketch for those forest sprites, or fairies, or deities, whatever you would believe ruled the trees.”

“And your wishes came true?”

His gaze lifts to the starry sky for a moment, then he looks down into your face. “Perhaps one or two, but some of the wishes were too foolish and did not need to be granted.” He laughs softly, and you grin and press closer to him. He then turns fully toward you to envelop you in his arms. “I think her wishes probably came true – she always wanted more for me, happiness, a good life. I have so much of that now.”

You reach up and gently cup his face in your hands. “I never planned on an unhappy life, but I think fortune granted us more happiness than either of us anticipated.”

“Indeed,” he says resolutely, bowing his head to capture your lips with his.

You kiss him back fervently. One of his hands moves down your spine, coming to stop at the small of your back, pressing you into him. You hum into the kiss, relishing the closeness and connection between the two of you.

Steve draws his lips away just before you’re at the point of breathlessness, but he presses his forehead to yours, and you continue to breathe each other in.

“I think I have something that would work for an offering,” you pipe up after a few moments of the tranquility in his embrace.

He doesn’t say anything but loosens his hold as you shift your arms back down and tug at the silk ribbon at the cuff of one of your sleeves, drawing it out of its casing.

“A fine token from my beautiful bride,” he remarks.

“And what are you giving up to the wood?”

“A piece of my heart,” he says with a grin.

You tsk at him and roll your eyes, but you do feel a small rush of heat in your cheeks and the butterflies stir in your belly because even though his tone was playful, there’s an undeniable intention in his eyes.

“No, what did you really bring, husband? I know you well enough to know you came prepared.”

He draws a small, folded piece of parchment out of his breast pocket, holding it up before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Come,” he inclines his head over his left shoulder, turning and stepping toward one of the nearby cedar trees. One of the branches hangs near shoulder height to you. Steve places the folded drawing onto the branch, holding it in place, and you step up to tie it to the branch without him needing to explain.

“I don’t get to see what you drew?” you ask as you arrange the loops for a bow and work the silk with your nimble fingers.

“If you tell a wish – or show it in this case, then it might not come true.”

You know he is not one to believe in silly superstitions, but you have your own wish you hope this ritual might help along, so you just smile and nod. “Fair enough.”

The two of you step back, and you admire the simple beauty of the ribbon and think you could very well tie many more ribbons to this tree in the coming years together. You hope that is the case.

Steve takes another few steps back into the open space between the trees, draws his robe off his shoulders, and spreads it out over the ground. You pull off your own robe and join him as he lays back and holds his arm open for you. He assists as you drape your robe over your lower halves. The air is crisp but not cold, but the warmth of his body against yours is wonderful, and you nestle into him.

The stars dotting the heavens are bright skirting around a full moon, and as the two of you gaze up at the night sky, you twine your fingers with Steve’s at your shoulder. You have maintained who you are, who you were raised to be, strong and steady, noble, regal, with your own sense of purpose and fulfillment, but the wholeness you feel when you are with Steve enriches your soul. You are not empty without him, but more full with him. Laying with him right now is a balm you did not know you desperately needed tonight.

Steve begins to speak again. “After she passed, I kept the yearly tradition for the equinox, but especially after I inherited this kingdom.”

His voice was another comfort. You loved hearing more of what made up this man who held your heart.

“I never sought the crown,” he continues, “but after I suddenly found myself king, I held onto anything that kept me grounded. Bucky has been a constant, but I spent much time in these woods to clear my head, work out answers I needed to sort through on my own, or simply sit with feelings or difficulties I could not suffer in the palace in front of anyone else.”

Given that admission, the semblance of a path and his familiarity navigating to this glen in the trees made perfect sense.

This man was strong and stoic, and your husband had the heart of a lion, but you could only imagine what it must have been like to inherit a kingdom and all the royal duties of being its king overnight. You had grown up as the second-born in a royal family, able to learn and prepare, with parents, governesses, advisors, tutors, and your royal siblings being brought up alongside you to prepare for a life of duty and the unique difficulties it would present for the entirety of your life. Steve had been plucked out of obscurity by fate with no training, orphaned, only a soul who had always worked hard and possessed a deep-rooted a sense of duty and desire to serve those around him in any way he could.

He speaks again, an abundant warmth in his tone. “In you I have found yet another boon and have had fewer occasions where I needed to seek out the solace of this place.”

You shift to your side to lean up and look into his face. This was not a surprise revelation. His words and actions have demonstrated consistently how much he values you since that night you had pledged your true love and affection to each other so many months ago, but him vocalizing this sentiment still means so much and makes your heart soar because your relationship is still so new.

You move down to kiss him, and he lifts his head to meet you halfway. He holds your face in his hands, and his thumbs brush gently over your cheeks.

He pulls back, presses another brief kiss to your mouth, then traces a finger over your parted lips. His blue eyes connect again to yours.

“I don’t know if you are holding back the thoughts that trouble you because I’m king and you think I have royal matters to occupy my thoughts, but something is on your mind,” he says quietly.

Your heart stings a little at his accusation – but he is not wholly wrong.

“Please,” he presses, “we said we would be husband and wife to each other, we vowed a true and unfettered love. As your husband I can see it, I know it, and it’s eating at me that I can’t share whatever is burdening you. Do not hold matters so important and worrisome back from me.”

Your throat feels thick and though you are still unsure of the words and the feelings yourself, you cannot deny Steve’s fervent plea to open up to him, and you trust that the foundation you’ve been building together will guide the two of you through however this conversation will go.  

Carefully, you settle back down against him, wanting to feel his closeness. You press the side of your face to his chest, over his heart, and drape your left arm over his torso. His hand trails up and down your arm tenderly, while his other arm holds you, patiently waiting.

You take a deep breath and then let your thoughts flow into words. “Are you at all worried that we have been married three-quarters of a year,” you begin, “time enough for me to be with child, and yet we have no heir on the way?”

He hums in thought, not immediately answering.

You know the silence is short, but it feels long because you anxiously await his thoughts.

“No,” he finally answers.

He does not elaborate, and though when Steve chooses to speak and when he chooses to keep his thoughts to himself is something you have noted and admired in his character as a king, on this matter you crave every word of his thoughts.

“No?”

He sits up and pulls you into his lap, arms encircling you entirely.

“I am realizing we have never spoken about this with each other,” he says.

“And?”

“And I imagine we have spoken about it or been spoken to about it with others before our union.”

You nod.

He furrows his brow slightly, studying your face.

“Steve,” it’s you ushering the conversation now.

“Is anyone pressing you on the matter?” he asks, tone serious.

“No,” you reply.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Truthfully,” you reassure him.

“Then truthfully, you asked if I am worried – but I had not realized so much time had already passed. The longer we are married, the more it feels as if I’ve known you for ages, but it also feels as if it has been no time at all.”

You nod. “I think that is one of the reasons I have been hesitant to broach the subject now since it has been many months and we had never once spoken on the matter. It had never crossed my mind, and I didn’t know if it had yours.”

You had wondered why. You wondered if it was a mark of selfishness, or merely a mark on how devoted the two of you had been in building your bonds as husband and wife in your time as newlyweds – newlyweds in a cordially arranged marriage that turned out to be a true love match.

He remains quiet for another moment, and you place your hand on his cheek, relishing the feel of his beard against your palm.

His tone is soft when he finally continues. “I want children, not heirs.”

Your melt into his embrace, heart skipping a beat. Why had you let yourself worry at all?

“But what do you want, my love?”

“I-“

His question gives you pause. You know the most vital duty of a queen is to produce an heir, but the way Steve looks at you in this moment, so intently, you want to give him the true answer, not merely the answer you were raised to give.

And it’s in those fervent blue eyes of his that you also seem to find the truth of it.

“I want to have children with you.”

He does not ask for you to clarify or repeat the sentiment because he knows you do not speak to placate him in any way, the same way you know he does not try to placate you now.

“You know that I was not raised to be a king or with all the expectations that come along with it. Since the time the crown was bestowed upon me, I did learn the import of all the duties that were suddenly expected. Bring peace and stability to the kingdom, serve the people, and much of that was tied to expectations that I take a wife to give the kingdom a queen, and ultimately produce an heir to secure the line of succession, so I can only imagine what the duties and obligations felt like if one had been shouldered with them from birth.”

You sigh. “I suppose it is a different kind of weight as it’s all I’ve ever known, and it wasn’t thrust upon me as it was you.”

“But that does not minimize its weight, nor am I saying it was an unbearable burden for either of us. But I did feel the weight of it for all the years I ruled alone before you, and yet I stood firmly against any pressure to rush me into matrimony. Call it patience or obstinance, but I was rewarded for my waiting beyond anything I hoped for in that wife being you, and I know I was not your first proposed marriage contract either.”

“You were not, but you were the first I felt confident in, even when it was an arrangement that was amicable, not one with romantic notions or intent.”

“With that,” Steve continues, “I can do nothing but trust that there is no need to rush fulfilment of any of our duties. If and when children come into our life, it will be precisely when providence deems they should.”

“How is it you always say such wonderful things?”

He tilts his head, and the look on his face turns so soft it makes your heart ache. “Your heart inspires my heart.”

You close the small gap between you and kiss him fiercely. This man continue to show he is more than you could ever have dreamed, worthy of anchoring your soul. Your tongue teases the seam of his lips, and he opens his mouth to you immediately.

His hands are a little cold, but you do not mind the chill of his fingers as one of his hands moves under the hem of your nightdress, lands on your knee, and begins to move purposely up your thigh.

“Now, we ought to give providence every opportunity to send a child our way, should we not?” he teases.

You laugh and tug at his shirt. “We should, my king.” He lifts his arms to allow you to pull off his garment. “My love,” you add more tenderly before kissing him again.

He eases back to the ground, pulling you with him, lips locked together. The sentiments shared between you, the always enticing closeness, the novelty of having Steve outdoors, the magic of the spring equinox, all of it comes together to drive the two of you quickly into a frenzy of immediate need and want. You shift to straddle Steve and reach down to tear at the front laces of his breeches. The places where your naked thighs tuck in on each side of his bare torso relish the warmth and the beauty of the skin-to-skin contact. He hitches up your nightdress and his hands caress up and down your thighs as you reach for his cock. Steve hisses at your cold fingers wrapping around his hard length but bucks up into your hand as you stroke him.

“Inside you,” he insists. “Need to be inside you, filling you, planting my seed inside the cunt of my queen.”

You gasp at his desperate words as he moves your hands away and lines up his cock with your entrance, slamming your hips down to take him in the space of one heartbeat. You were not as wet or prepared as he usually took care to take you, but both of you groan as he slots in to the hilt, and you throw your head back, a broken groan escaping your throat. The pain is surged with pleasure, and you rock eagerly against his pelvis. The friction sends a shiver down your spine, and you close your eyes.

Steve’s hands move from your thighs to gripping your hips. You lean back just enough to plant your hands on his sturdy thighs, as he drives your hips back and forth with more vigor. The grind as his cock shifts it angle inside your pussy has you panting quickly. He squeezes your hips. “Just like that, my love, take your pleasure, let me give you what you need.”

Your movement grows more frenzied, and you whimper, not quite able to achieve the release you crave. But he knows this, has made a study of your body since your wedding night, and he knows you need more. One of his hands moves up to palm your breast, while his other hand moves to your core, and his thumb quests for your clit, applying tight, insistent circles to the pulsing nub. The waves of pleasure build even more quickly now, and when your fingers curl against his thighs, he tweaks your nipple, pinching, and it pushes you over the edge. You cry out, and every muscle in your body seizes to absorb the ecstasy of your orgasm.

Steve smooths his hands up and down your sides, then moves them around to the small of your back and coaxes your body back down to his chest, his cock still inside of you. He presses kisses along your collar bone, up the column of your neck, and along your jaw, letting you catch your breath. His hands continue their sensual and soothing movements over the expanse of your back, and he cradles your shoulders in his hands when you finally adjust your head to meet his lips once more with your own.

When you suck on his bottom lip, his cock twitches inside of you, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Can I have more?” he murmurs against your lips.

You manage to nod and mewl in assent, rocking where you’re still joined together.

Using his gentle strength, Steve rolls you beneath him, keeping you on the plush velvet of his cloak, settling in the home he loves between your thighs. He cups the side of your face in his hands, and his kiss now demands, belying his eagerness. Though his lips move against yours, tongue licking into your mouth, entangling with yours, kissing, kissing, kissing until neither of you can breathe anymore, when he draws away, your mouth chases his. He grins, and his eyes dance with satisfaction as he presses his forehead to yours.

You’re his, you have been his, but the way he reverently gazes at you as he trails his hand down your neck, over your chest, cresting over your breast, down your ribcage, circling over your hip, and then coming to rest over your stomach, it’s filled with a fervent fire. His hand splays out fully over your womb, and he slowly draws his cock out halfway before giving an even slower thrust back in, clearly wanting you to feel every inch of his thick member and the action has him groaning and you keening beneath him.

“I’m going to fill this womb with my seed,” he vows with another thrust. “Going to keep you full as often as I can.”

“Please,” you beg.

He has never been shy with you, but neither spoken so directly of the physical or biological in your intimate moments as he has tonight, and it adds a new level of pleasure to the experience that fuels a primal part in your core. You thread your fingers in his hair and tug urgently as his thrusts begin to pick up speed. His kisses turn fierce bruising, and you welcome it. But when he can’t seem to keep kissing and breathing and thrusting inside you, he abandons your lips and buries his face in your neck, grunting as he presses on and on. The angle of his pelvis drags just perfectly across your clit as he adjusts and speeds up. Your walls flutter around him, and he rasps, “Go on, give me one more before I fill you up, my love.”

And his rough thrusts laced with his tender words, the way he grasps at your hip, his belabored breathing at your neck, it all overwhelms, and you release a debauched, shuddering moan when your second orgasm washes over you. Steve does not relent, and follows you over the edge with only a few more thrusts, the way your channel squeezes his cock giving him the final push, and he groans, satisfied, as he empties his hot spend inside of you. You don’t scratch, but you draw your fingers forcefully down his back, wanting to feel the tautness of his muscles. You knead his ass, holding him joined into you as he ruts slowly against you, wanting to deposit every last drop your insides milk from him in the aftershocks.

You feel deliciously spent and welcome his weight as he relaxes his body on top of you. He lays his head on your chest, and you hum and press a kiss to the top of his head, drawing your fingers back up to lightly stroke his hair, his shoulders. He caresses your sides, your legs where they are still wrapped around him, anywhere his fingers can reach, but now it’s all languid and soothing touches between you. The weight of him is so grounding in the afterglow, and it begins to lull you to sleep.

You are vaguely aware as somewhat later Steve lifts you up from the ground to carry you in his arms back to the castle. Your body was sated, and your mind as well. You have more to share with Steve soon. You should have had your monthly bleeding last week, and so the possibility that you were already with child before tonight was a very real prospect. Tonight served to quell any doubts you may have had about the prospect of you two becoming parents – that he wanted it, and so did you, and that you were both ready to pursue that journey – but you would wait a few more weeks to ensure it wasn’t a fluke before you told Steve.

And in the meantime, you knew there would continue to be more pleasurable opportunities to put a babe inside you if there wasn’t one already.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS NEW PIECE OF THEIR STORY!

As ever, I'm always eager for any morsel of your thoughts as to what you thought and questions about where they may go next...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #royal au #steve rogers x reader #royal steve rogers #aspen wrote something #cedar trees au #askpen

[comradekatara]

might be bit of a stupid question, and you may have even discussed it before. if so, sorry for asking again.

but: do you think aang forgives ozai, or does he just show mercy? aang seems to have a clear stance on the importance of forgiveness, however, the final moments of his battle with ozai are visually paralleled with katara's attack on her mother's killer - and katara is clear on the fact the she has not (and will not) forgive him. she just shows him mercy, i suppose.

do you think this sentiment is paralleled in these two scenes? do you think aang manages to actually forgive ozai, or is he just showing mercy in order to protect the values of his culture?

to be perfectly honest, the thought of whether or not aang’s decision to spare ozai is one of forgiveness never actually crossed my mind. you’re right that the issue of mercy is tied to forgiveness in “the southern raiders,” but i always read that issue of forgiveness as far less straightforward than a question of whether or not katara will forgive yon rha, and more so whether katara can forgive herself (and by extension zuko). as aang says, “revenge is a two headed rat viper,” and the reason he’s advocating that katara find room for forgiveness within herself is not because he gives a shit whether the man who murdered her mother will die or not (he doesn’t care if others kill as long as he doesn’t have blood on his hands, as evidenced by his relationship to sokka and toph), but whether katara will be able to live with herself after the fact. and he knows her, so he knows that she won’t.

by sparing yon rha, katara forgives herself for her own guilt in having to carry the burden of knowing her mother sacrificed herself to save her, lets herself rest and simply be a human person instead of dedicating herself to the pursuit of vengeance, to revenge kya’s foul and most unnatural murder. because of course katara has that instinct, and of course katara feels her mother’s death more personally than sokka does, and of course she feels a responsibility to right the wrongs that she (however inadvertently) caused in whatever way she possibly can.

she finally has the skillset and the intel that allows her to carry out her revenge, but in that final moment before she strikes the final blow, she hesitates and drops her weapon, her artform that she has dedicated herself to honing in a way no one alive has ever needed to (with the exception of hama, and even then). it’s a uniquely powerful moment in a show filled with powerful moments (many of them involving katara) because she is choosing herself over yon rha, over zuko, over the memory of her mother.

she lets the illusion that she is the hero of an adventure tale wherein good triumphs over evil fade away and she embraces her own humanity though acknowledging the humanity of her enemies. yon rha isn’t a uniquely evil cackling villain (unlike someone like zhao or ozai), he’s a person, an awful person, but nonetheless a human being. a soldier who acted as the arm of a vast and complex, terrifying machine. and by looking into his face once more, the face that haunted her nightmares, katara is able to see herself reflected in the face of the other, and finally fully realizes a tapestry of the world that can not be so neatly woven.

that is what it means to forgive. when she forgives zuko, it is not because zuko has done anything to earn her forgiveness: unlike with “the boiling rock,” where he genuinely risks his life to selflessly help sokka at his lowest point, he is the instigator of katara’s entire journey, and even though he is attempting to do her a favor because he understands her intrinsic desire for revenge born of guilt and rage and shame, it is not a selfless act (that comes later). but through forgiving herself, allowing herself to relax her rigid worldview of right and wrong, good and evil, she recognizes that even if zuko did do genuinely reprehensible, awful things, it isn’t in her best interest to hold onto that anger, and by allowing herself to feel less personal responsibility and shame over her misplaced trust in zuko leading to aang’s death, she is able to forgive zuko, but only because she had already forgiven herself.

when aang shows ozai mercy, however, the issue of forgiveness isn’t even really the right term for it. he’s not forgiving ozai nor himself, here, but rather powerfully asserting that mercy is not a weakness, but a deliberate choice, and one that is born of incredible strength of character, at that. he’s forgiving his people for “not fighting back,” he’s forgiving his culture for adhering to these pacifist values, and yes, he’s forgiving himself for not being the avatar that everyone expects him to be. he’s prioritizing his people and his humanity and his grief over what the entire human world wanted from him.

and crucially, before the lion turtle showed him his truest path, aang was going to kill ozai. he was resigned to this being his destiny. unlike katara, who fully planned on killing yon rha and only decided to spare him once she saw his face, aang didn’t want to kill ozai from the very beginning, and had to be forced into killing him, rather than being talked down. sokka tells katara not to kill yon rha as gently as he possibly can (and nonetheless immediately gets shut down for it), but then he almost bullies aang for not wanting to kill. sokka considers killing a tool that should be exercised with logical intent, katara considers killing an act that makes a statement, and aang considers killing a taboo that should never be violated. of course, aang’s stance on killing is a very culturally-specific one, which yangchen also adheres to as best she can, but also understands its limits when in the position of avatar. but aang cannot afford to simply be the avatar, because he must bear the burden of his entire people’s legacy.

so at no point does forgiveness for ozai come into play, because aang has no reason to consider forgiving ozai. his decision to take down the firelord is a tactical one, rather than born purely out of a desire for revenge. but he does mirror katara’s decision to spare yon rha in sparing ozai’s life simply because, in both cases, they prioritize themselves and the preservation of their own humanity over submitting to the logic of the men who have destroyed their lives.

#the-avatars-fury #asks #i love them so much wtf…. #analysis #aang #katara #aang&katara #katara&zuko #yon rha #ozai #idk who else to tag #sokka #i guess

[ineffable-rohese]

Neil's picks for Aziraphale & Crowley's Angelic Playlist were Cry Me a River (Julie London), The Book of Love (Peter Gabriel), and The Show Must Go On (Queen).

Three songs. Two about the aftermath of a break up, and one about coming together in love. So very clearly, we can infer a Crowley POV song, an Aziraphale POV song, and a song for the two of them and their happily ever after. (Song lyrics for all three after the cut for reference.)

The Book of Love is a perfect wedding song. It's a song to play under two people declaring their desire to spend eternity together. With lines about dancing and reading and it's perfect. It's originally a Magnetic Fields song that was released in 1999. Peter Gabriel recorded a cover in 2004 for the movie Shall We Dance about which I know nothing but the Wikipedia summary. But since we know how movies are important here... It's a standard rom-com with a bored Richard Gere secretly taking up ballroom dancing after following a pretty lady from the train (J-Lo). His wife (Susan Sarandon) thinks he's cheating, turns out nope, just dancing, drama ensues, he gives up dancing but eventually his wife becomes supportive and he realizes he loves his wife. And dancing. And they live happily ever after, with both of them getting what they want. Maybe we can draw some parallels here? But I think the song speaks for itself better than its connection with what sounds like a standard early 2000s romcom.

The individual songs are where it gets interesting.

Cry Me a River was first released by Julie London in 1951, but became popular after she sang it in the 1956 film The Girl Can't Help It starring Jayne Mansfield as an aspiring rock 'n roll singer. Again, relying on Wikipedia here, but there is an interesting bit about a blossoming forbidden relationship, wiretapped phones, and someone editing the recordings to keep the love affair secret. But again, it's probably a stretch to look too deeply into the movie.

The song has a very classic jazz feel. It's from a decade and a half later, but if you were, say, an angel who enjoyed Moonlight Serenade or A Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square, it has a similar feel. You definitely wouldn't say it's bebop. The lyrics are about someone who was in love and had their heartbroken. Their former love (who never shed a tear over the break up) has returned and wants to make up. The singer essentially says "you love me? Prove it. Cry me a river like I cried when you left." Which, fair, but in our context, ouch.

The Show Must Go On is a Queen song, and we know how much Queen we hear in association with Crowley in particular. But this just isn't any Queen song. It was written by Brian May about Freddie Mercury's struggles as he neared the end of his life, and it was recorded in 1990. (Coincidentally or not, the year Good Omens was published, a book co-created by friends, one of whom would die too soon, and the other of whom would reflect on his friend's end of life struggles as the story was told more fully. Yes, I'm crying about this.)

In the song, the singer is fighting to reach a place of freedom, away from empty spaces and heartbreak. They are fighting with pure will, and even though their heart is breaking they smile and carry on because the show must go on.

What I really appreciate here with the POV songs, is that they are cross-coded. Queen is Crowley-coded, but the song about someone fighting through heartbreak to achieve something vital, while forcing a smile for the audience? That's absolutely Aziraphale in Heaven. And the 40s/50s jazz ballad is absolutely Aziraphale's style, but the jilted lover who may be willing to give their love a second chance but needs to see proof that the lover cares as much as they do is Crowley all the way.

It's almost like... Well it's almost like even in their separation, they are each carrying a piece of the other. The book of love has music in it, indeed.

The Book of Love

The book of love is long and boring No one can lift the damn thing It's full of charts and facts, and figures And instructions for dancing But I I love it when you read to me. And you You can read me anything.

The book of love has music in it In fact that's where music comes from Some of it's just transcendental Some of it's just really dumb But I I love it when you sing to me And you You can sing me anything

The book of love is long and boring And written very long ago It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes And things we're all too young to know But I I love it when you give me things And you You ought to give me wedding rings

Cry Me a River

Now you say you're lonely You cry the whole night thorough Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you

Now you say you're sorry For bein' so untrue Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you

You drove me, nearly drove me out of my head While you never shed a tear Remember, I remember all that you said Told me love was too plebeian Told me you were through with me and

Now you say you love me Well, just to prove you do Come on and cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you

The Show Must Go On

Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on Does anybody know what we are looking for?

Another hero, another mindless crime Behind the curtain, in the pantomime Hold the line Does anybody want to take it anymore?

The show must go on The show must go on, yeah Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on

Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance Another heartache, another failed romance, on and on Does anybody know what we are living for? I guess I'm learning I must be warmer now I'll soon be turning, round the corner now Outside the dawn is breaking But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free

The show must go on The show must go on Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on

My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies Fairy tales of yesterday, grow but never die I can fly, my friends

The show must go on The show must go on I'll face it with a grin I'm never giving in On with the show I'll top the bill I'll overkill I have to find the will to carry on On with the show Show Show must go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on

#ineffable playlist #good omens #good omens meta #ineffable lovers #ineffable divorce #queen #peter gabriel #julie london #neil gaiman #terry pratchett

[t-tomuras]

∞ ─── • 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐲

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x F!reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injuries / burns (non descript), bathing as foreplay ig, vaginal penetration, shower sex, creampie, reader somewhat referred to as 'princess'

Notes: I do not know, that's all

The second horrible mission Gojo experiences as an adult is the first one after your promotion to first grade sorcerer. The mission details were cut and dry: eliminate the curse responsible for multiple disappearances near the docks in the warehouse district. It was a suspected second grade, potential first grade; nothing either of you had never encountered before and with Satoru at your side it may as well have been simply flyheads. 

Satoru had only attended because he’d nothing better to do and he enjoyed spending his time with you, neither of you fully taking the mission seriously. Forgoing the veil with the thought it would be an easy task, in and out in less than an hour with no collateral damage. 

For the most part, it was. Smaller curses within the vicinity signaling the information was correct, that the curse you were looking for wouldn’t be any stronger than a second grade if not weaker by how easily the small fry were dispatched. Your cursed technique took care of the majority of them, Satoru joking lightheartedly about needing more recruits to handle missions like these before the tone of the night changes drastically. 

The only thing you remember before being knocked unconscious is the horrendous smell of rot. Like a body thick with bloat, abandoned in the water to be forgotten followed by a bright light that rivaled daybreak. 

You wake later in Gojo’s arms, ears still ringing and unsure of just how long you’d been unconscious. When you can finally force your eyes to focus in the dim lighting, you can see half of Satoru’s face is burned and most of his torso is exposed. The fringes of his uniform still sizzling when he alerts to the sound of your movement, breathing a sigh of relief like he himself isn’t injured. He may as well not be, hardly feeling the injuries at all any more and later, after he’s taken you to visit Shoko for assessment, he’ll use his reverse curse technique to heal and it’ll be like he was never hurt in the first place. 

Pushing back the thought that he should let his body scar as a physical reminder for his arrogance this time around. But he can’t breathe too much life into the past right now, not with you slowly rousing.

First making sure you were alert and responsive before hoisting you into his arms as he stood, cracking a joke to lighten the mood as he always did. Softening heavier moments and it seems to work with how you crack the slightest smile while rolling your eyes at him before he makes the trek to the highway after calling for extraction. 

He lays you down in the backseat first, a tenderness in how he cradles your skull as explains what happened before you were knocked out. The throbbing in your head begins to makes sense as he details how a special grade curse essentially launched you into a wall after suddenly appearing from the bay; its power bolstered by the cursed object known as Sukuna’s finger. 

After that the trip back to Jujutsu Tech is silent, both of you solemnly reflecting to yourselves on your mistakes in this mission. Satoru blames himself, blames himself for not reacting faster; for not voicing aloud his minute sensing of another cursed presence.

Blames himself for promoting you to first grade at all. Because you were supposed to be on that mission alone. 

His chest tightens as he looks down at you with your head in his lap, stroking gently at the cool skin of your forehead as you blankly stare at the passing scenery in the night to remain conscious. Listening to him, for once, when he comments that you could have a concussion while Gojo fails to fight away the images of you like this with a more grim setting. Of your eyes lifeless and unblinking, your chest no longer rising and falling as it draws slow breaths, of your pretty face marred like his was now. 

Or worse, not having a body to bring back with him at all.

Satoru begrudgingly takes you to the showers first, quieting your complaints of being filthy the moment you both arrive back home. Leaning into him heavily as opens the faucet and waits for the water to warm. Sighing contentedly in his arms as he walks you both beneath the steady stream at the soothing temperature. Feeling as though this were enough to heal you of any ailment regardless of its severity, though you’re sure Satoru would beg to differ. 

Careful as he cleans away any evidence of the mission; meticulous as he washes away your own blood from your skin, some of the curse’s blood, some of his own from how tightly he held you. 

He starts just below your jawline, squeezing a generous glob of your body wash into his palms before deft digits massage along the curve of your throat to stop at your shoulders as your head lolls at the treatment. Working out any knots and chuckling breathlessly as you gripe about any sore spots he finds. Though he cradles you delicately as he tilts you under the spray to wash away the sweet smell. 

The process starts innocently at first, following your nightly routine that you’ve only mentioned to him once like he’s done it for you a million times. That he’d do it for you a million more if you asked. Until he moves lower and you sigh when his hands ghost over your ribs, thumbs brushing just below her the undersides of your breasts. He should think better of it, would if you hadn’t had a festering desire between the two of you. His continuous teasing and knack for getting under your skin but making you smile or laugh as he does so only building the mounting sexual frustration from bruising kisses cut short up until this moment. Not a soul around to interrupt either of you now and as you stare at one another, the magnetic pull between you becomes unignorable. 

But he’s nothing if not insufferable in everything he does, but you love it don’t you? He knows it as Gojo watches your reaction intently as broad palms cup breasts, corners of his lips upturned as he lathers the plump flesh before tugging at your pebbled nipples. Cooing at you when you lean into his touch, allowing his arms to slide back to your ribs and along the curve of your waist. Landing on your hips and holding fast for a moment as you tilt her head to look up at him.

Allowing your hands slide up his bare chest until they rest on either side of his throat, crushing you too him as he walks you backward. Chuckling as you hiss at the constraining coolness of the shower tile before your touch jars him. Your hand coming to graze carefully at the burn to the left side of his face before Satoru grabs your wrist to halt your venture. Tilting his head slightly into your palm to lay a kiss there. 

It’s when you both pause long enough to look at one another that the gravity of tonight truly sinks in. Understanding that death is not only plausible, it is inevitable. That just because you’re both strong, that Gojo is the strongest, doesn’t mean there couldn’t be that one bad day. The one to end all days to come, one singular instance of misfortune or a miscalculated move that would cost you your lives. 

The moment breaks, his lips are on yours with a fever and you return the sentiment heartily. Nipping at his bottom lip before Satoru dips lower, kissing at your throat as he hands explore your body. Pressing into you insistently as his hand slips between your bodies. Cupping your mound with a groan before his fingers play in your slick, pressing into your clit until your hips will jolt into his out of sync with his ministrations. Toying with you until it’s too much for him, until Satoru can’t wait anymore. Adjusting your body quickly for you to give him your back, your palms splaying out in the wall and your breasts crushed to the cool tile. 

Quickly rutting his hips into the curve of your ass while he tilts your head to continue kissing you. Hand cupping your jaw so his tongue can swipe over yours, swallowing any whines or moans before he’s gripping at the fat of your thigh. Forcing you to spread your legs the slightest bit as he slips between them. Flushed cock nestling comfortably between your folds as he rolls his hips slowly, leaky cockhead kissing your clit and pulling more sweet sounds from you as he coats himself in your slick. 

Pulling his hips back just enough so the mushroomed tip can catch on your entrance, grasping his cock as he prods into the welcoming heat. Guiding himself home before sinking into you in one thrust, groaning long and low into your ear. Sending a jolt of pleasure right to your clit from the sound. Satoru sets an unforgiving pace quickly, his pelvis causing resounding smacks against your ass as he thrusts into you near desperately. 

Nipping at your shoulder periodically, dotting the sharp pain between sweet kisses. Feeling his demise build from the delectable squeeze of your welcoming walls with the honeyed cries of his name. 

“Satoru, Satoru, Satoru,” quick and punctuated with each pointed thrust, one hand coming around to press and roll into your puffy clit. Causing your hips to buck out of sync and your cunt to squeeze him dangerously. His other hand coming around to cup her throat, cradling the column as he applies light pressure at the base but mostly he lets it frame like a sweet necklace there. Feeling the delicious calls of his name through the vibrations of your vocal chords before you gasp in his hold. Body going rigid for only a moment before going lax in his embrace as your orgasm washes over you. 

Gojo groans at the feel, eyes rolling from the way velvet walls flutter around him. Creaming his cock and sending him over the edge shortly after, painting your cunt in shades of pearly white. His hips stuttering as he works you both through the euphoria. 

He has to brace himself against the wall, palm flat and crushing your body between himself and the wall as he teases you. As he tries to prolong your release by toying with your oversensitive clit and succeeding as another orgasm rips through you, earning an appreciative groan from him. Fucking into you until you’re both twitching and Satoru has to pull his spent cock from you. 

Taking a moment to just enjoy the soothing spray of the still warm water down your backs and the release of tension from a hasty coupling. Satoru’s lithe weight against you is comfortable as he still supports you both. Trailing featherlight brushes of his lips from your right shoulder, to the base of your neck and ending at your left. 

Though you whine when he turns off the water, missing its warmth already and not finding his body heat alone enough to suffice. He wraps you in a towel then himself, taking your weight with no protest as he teasingly calls you ‘princess’ (his princess, though) before carrying you up to your room.

#vixen drabbles #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you

[fishnapple]

CRYSTAL READING : Shine the light on your hidden fears and give them a hug.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Feedback is much appreciated ❤️

Book a personal reading for you.

Reading for each group below :

1. Strawberry quartz

I keep seeing the troupe in movies and books about the pairing of an innocent child with a jaded, big grown-up who ended up travelling together through some fateful encounter, like the series Sweet tooth in Netflix (recommended)

Your outer appearance and the image that everyone sees may not fully reflects who you really are inside. This is a subconscious fear that you yourself not really aware of.

A fear of letting your vulnerable side, your childlike, innermost pure part of yourself out into the open. Some part deep within you yearns to let go, to be able to just exist without fear, worries and restrictions, to feel as one with people, to be soft and be taken care of. Somehow you find it’s hard to accept it, to act in that way would be considered as ‘weak’ by you. So you try to drown out that inner voice by speaking in a louder voice to the world.

In the eyes of the world, you show no trace of fear and insecurity. A confident, secured, friendly image. Your words hold weight, people listen to you but sometimes your communicating style would be perceived as rough and forceful. The repressed part in you would somehow find some ways to sneak out, to be expressed. If you ever have had some sudden emotional outbursts, some hurtful words blurted out unconsciously, take a deep breath and think carefully about what is the cause of it. Anything that is perceived as restriction coming from others would trigger a lash out, like a challenge to your unshakable confidence. Your inner-self has been already under so much restrictions by yourself, any outside force would just put more oil into the fire.

Just your acknowledgement of this part about yourself would help tremendously. Instead of always trying to be strong and powerful, being more open to the tender part of yourself would bring a wave of awareness to other people also. You have the potential to be a great teacher that can bring changes. You can show to others that sometimes it’s okay to be weak, it’s okay to just float, to feel lost sometimes. Let the child walks with you side by side, not fearfully hiding behind.

2. Flourite

The stone that represents you landed right on the center of the chart. Somehow whatever fear you are having, there is this part of you that is just immovable. The lesson is to always find the way back to that center place.

You have a very open aura that is warm like sunshine. Others could see your optimism clearly. You express what you believe in without reservation and judgment, the same is applied for other’s belief and opinions also. But then later on, you would sometimes have doubts about how would your way of living your life and your beliefs are perceived by other people.

You stay true to yourself. Your authenticity is shining, because it’s so visible, there are bound to be some clashes with others. Not everyone can agree with your way readily.

Your fear would be about saying something that is considered outlandish and then be judged harshly for it. Would your closed ones and people around you accept your authenticity with open arms? Would their affection decrease when they are not agreeing with you? Would you be considered weird if you speak the truth? Those would be some doubts that you have.

But there is something that you need to consider. Would a clash in opinions or the way you live really would bring estrangement? Of course, you will always be judged by someone. You can’t control other’s judgment, but not everyone is like that. Some will embrace your quirks lovingly. Maybe you can’t charm the mass, but there will be some crowds that will appreciate what you have to offer, your insights, your compassion, your generosity, your authenticity.

If you seek a sense of belonging in people, just find the right people for you. Know that differences don’t have to mean solitude.

3. Amethyst

So scattered and distant. I sense a fear of hopelessness, that life would one day becomes bleak and empty without meaning.

Loneliness and solitude.

Fear of having the loved ones going away, of having the love in your hands to offer but don't know whom to offer that love.

Fear of losing control of one's life, being pushed around by outside forces. That would be some twists of fate, sudden change and lost that make you feel helpless and can't act against them.

I get so many fears in this group, it feels so heavy, I wish you peace and love. I don't know your age but the energy feels young, a young heart having to pass a mission from the early days, have to endure so much and carry a burden on the mind so that the a resilient spirit can be forged. Imagine a story about a young one going on a quest to gather lost treasures and making friends along the journey, there would be both loss and joy. I think that the treasures that the main character, you, seeks and need to bring back home is your inner child, the guiding light within you. By having that light back, even when you travel alone in the dark, you won't feel lost and powerless.

In the face of confusion and loss, keeping a light and tender heart, talking with friends, making something, cook your favourite dish would help you feel more connected with life. Keep your faith in the joy of life, there is always something worth living for.

If you feel that life is moving too slowly for you and crave some changes, think very hard about what you really need from that change, maybe you have been holding that treasure all along.

4. Citrine

I'm seeing a Torii gate of Japan (image below) with the sun rising behind.

Venus stone is standing in front of it, small and distant. I feel a certain fear concerning learning, self-worth and life enjoyment.

There is a gate being open in front of you but you are afraid to cross over, the light of the sun is calling you but you are hesitant.

Is there anything you long to say or to learn but couldn't find the right time or opportunity for it ? Something you enjoy learning but fear that it would take so much time and works, that it would take you away from your safe and familiar environment.

This is the hurdle that you need to pass. Always keep the inspiration steady, follow it and don't look around, you will find you self passed the gate already.

You may have a fear of facing changes, big one, both with relationship with people and in your career, people's perception of you would change if you make some big changes.

This is a call to focus on finding more about what you want to learn, what you are taking in to form your own life's philosophy, finding the "meaning of life". It needn't be something grand, the meaning lies in each step you take.

You may find yourself becoming more interested in spirituality, being fascinated by other cultures. There would be some hidden force at play here, nudging you toward the gate.

Take one step at a time, you may find help and abundance along the way, with so much opportunities to connect and trading thoughts with new people.

*The Torii gate*

5. Obsidian

A kite is flying. There is some kind of fear concerning relationships. Once a relationship has taken off, you fear that it will be scrutinized and judged by everyone around you, maybe you even fear that it goes against the moral code of your society.

There is a desire to be free of restrictive rule and the fear of being overshadowed by some authority figure deep within you.

I sense a lot of overbearing and harsh energy around you. Maybe they come from your teacher, some kind of mentor, someone you look up to, a feminine figure close to you or someone in the role of a nurturer but their nurturing style is quite dominant and smothering. They may mean well but their words are sharp and cold that could deal a heavy blow to your sense of self worth and shaking your confidence. Making you stay behind them under the name of protection.

The message for you would be about finding your voice, be the authoritative voice for yourself, step out of the shadow. Especially in relationships. Whether it is romantic or platonic, relationships with families and authority, be aware of any imbalance in the power dynamic at play. Be mindful of the role as "helper", who is serving whom, who is getting served.

Maybe you would develop some kind of obsessive routines or perfectionism in how to carry out your job to counter-balance the feeling of passivity and the lack of freedom.

Having control of your daily life to strengthen your sense of autonomy, from the small decisions such as what to eat, when to sleep to big decisions like how to do your job, what habit and routine to practice and adopt.

Love.

#crystal reading #lithomancy #pick a card #channeled message #pick a pile #fears #intuitive messages #divination #psychic reading #tarot #astrology #astrology readings #tarotcommunity #tarot reading #spirituality #fishnapple #horary chart #tarotblr #pac #witchblr

[bitchesgate3]

Disclaimer: I have not romanced Minthara nor have I fully played the Dark Urge.

One thing I've experienced whilst having Minthara in my party since Moonrise is that there feels like there are narratively TWO Mintharas. And the Durge break up makes sense for one and not the other.

This 1st Minthara: Upon rescuing Minthara, all your initial conversations are deeply emotional. And later ones at camp are so deeply insightful that her maturity and experience compared to the other companions really stands out.

She understands the plots going on and the subterfuge and conspiracy. She reflects on her experiences with the Absolute, her understanding of the Chosen 3, her gratitude about being saved by Tav, her time under Orin's thrall, and gives us glimpses into the emotions that run through all these experiences.

How does a merciless woman grapple with being shown mercy? Her specifically. Not Dror Ragzlin. Not Priestess Gut. But her - singled out - for mercy?

This Minthara feels like she makes sense of these experiences for herself, to find a life to carve out on her own - integrated with her indomitable spirit. She is a dynamic and nuanced character and makes her a must-have companion for me on ANY playthrough.

However, another Minthara exists.

Minthara is most likely intended to be Chaotic Evil. She comes across as Lawful at times, but I think she was de facto made to be compatible with any type of evil, hence she must be chaotic. As opposed to Lae'zel who with Lawful Evil and disapproves if you are dishonorable in some way.

Astarion in EA was more overtly Chaotic Evil leaning Neutral Evil, and probably more conventionally chaotic because some of what he approved of felt like evil for shits and giggles. Following his whims and entertainment.

Minthara on the other hand is certainly calculated by comparison. She understands that seeding disorder is a way to destabilize an existing power in order to obtain it for one's self. This knowledge of undermining pairs extremely well with the overarching mindflayer plot. So while she may inevitably seek more secure power for herself, her ambient dialogue options encourage chaotic evil in this way.

And that's where this 2nd Minthara character comes in. She is the only companion that consistently disapproves of every "good" aligned decision the other companions make. She encourages you to make deals with Gortash and the Emperor (THE master manipulators), and has all these big plans for world domination right out the gate that she sort of assumes you're on board with.

The most egregious thing for me is that she grants approval for the silliest evil actions in the game.

It's clear to me that being opportunistically evil, selfish, and self-serving makes sense for a character like Minthara who utilizes chaos and fear for her own goals, but I find that because she is the only character who could possibly align that way, Larian gives her EVERY possible [calculated] chaotic evil approval that comes up.

So this 2nd Minthara ends up saying the most contrived, cartoonishly evil dialogue responses that really breaks immersion because it feels as if she's only saying that because she's the only companion who can.

That being said, I don't mind this "2nd Minthara"/Chaotic Evil Minthara existing and actually being a part of her character (because clearly this is intended and part of the authors' vision), but when the 1st Minthara seems to hint at possessing divergent thought while this 2nd Minthara seems stuck in her ways, I can't merge the two entities as the same one.

I actually think the game needs to add flags similar to Gale and the Crown where the more you agree with Minthara on her disapproving of the companions defying their dominators/approving when they align with them, only then you will get the Durge break up if you defy yours.

Just adding those flags - not even adding new content - would be an easy fix and I think would help justify why these two Minthara's even exist.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #minthara #larian #the dark urge #character analysis #text #my think pieces

[berberriescorner]

"Through It All"

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: There aren’t many things that put Rio on edge. Most people see a calm, cool, and collected individual. Keeping a level head is his specialty. What happens when the person he loves most needs him to be strong for both of them? Get a glimpse of what it’s like seeing him hold someone down through thick and thin, in sickness and health. If you know, you know.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND AUTHOR’S NOTE**

Warnings: Angst…like seriously. You’ll understand once you read the author’s note. This fic contains sweet, soft, fluffy Rio. The fic includes some of my crazy humor with a smidge of the character’s inner thoughts. If reading about gynecological procedures makes you uncomfortable, this may not be a fic for you. It doesn’t go into great detail, but it is mentioned and sheds a bit of light. If mentions of the ins and outs of fertility is a soft spot, please read with caution. It isn’t my intention to bring anyone down, but this story is based on parts of my own experiences. Again, the note will explain more.

Author/Personal Note: Okay. Where to start? So, as some of you may know throughout the past two years I’ve been getting cycles of iron infusions. This year, after making several complaints and an ER visit or two. I had an ultrasound performed, which led to me getting surgery months later (the procedure I had done recently). I’ve been spending my days at home recovering, and it’s given me time to reflect. Damn, it’s been a rough couple of years, but I’m so thankful through it all. It’s difficult having a plethora of health issues. This situation put so much added stress on top of it all. As a woman, hearing you have a fibroid. Learning it’s best to get it removed to protect your fertility is scary as hell. You get it done, get sent home, and though you have loved ones taking amazing care of you. It’s still a difficult, challenging process. At times, it’s lonely. No one but you can fully wrap your head around the emotions and feelings the body is going through. It’s pretty wild.

Anywho, sorry y’all. Let me stop rambling and get to the point. We all know how overactive my imagination is. Being stuck in bed, my mind has been wandering. I thought to myself why not take this experience and channel it into a fic. I’m hoping that this will also be a comforting story to anyone who’s been through the same experience. Here is a look at how I envision Rio taking in the experience with his lady. I plan to write at least two more parts for this. Happy reading my lovelies! I wrote this on a whim, in celebration of my birthday, so ignore the grammatical errors my loves. I may come back and do some more editing. Depends on how I’m feeling.

Word Count: 1,800+. 

Inspired By💜:

Random fun fact: Toni Braxton and I have the same birthday😆. Happy Birthday, Queen💓.

Everything was still as a deafening silence fell across the room. It was as if each occupant was afraid to utter a single word. Your mother pretended to distract herself with a Kindle book as your father paced the floor quietly. They’d share a glance each time they checked their watch, smiling at one another in comfort and reassurance. 

Then, together, they directed their attention toward the chair in the far right corner. It was tucked in a tight corner next to a window, giving little relief and comfort to your husband, Rio. He, too was anxious, but no one would ever know it. He was always able to still his facial features. Never one to give his emotions away. The only person who could read him wasn’t in the room. You were on the other side of the building and the reason for your families’ nervousness. No longer able to stand the constant glances and silence, Rio stood from his seat. He released a breath, rubbing his palms against his jeans. Turning to your parents, he stated, “I’m going to grab a quick cup of coffee from the cafeteria. Would you two like something?”

Your mother, a gentle, nurturing soul, responded for both of them.

“No, baby. We’re fine. Don’t worry. I’ll come find you if we receive news.”

Rio ducked away in a vacant spot in the cafeteria, hands folded over top of the steam of the coffee. He searched for peace and solace until a jolting vibration exploded in his jacket pocket. Fumbling for the phone, he answered without looking.

“What they say ma-. Oh, my bad. Wassup? Everything good?” Rio listened patiently before snapping. “You know this is something you could’ve handled yourself, right? I don’t have time for the three stooges bullshit today.”

He instantly felt a slight pang of guilt. Rio realized that the stress and worry of his current situation were influencing his mood. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed. Inhaling, he continued, “My bad bro. She’s been in for three hours, and it’s got me tweaking. Nobody’s giving us any damn answers. It’s a non-invasive procedure, but it’s still considered major surgery. I just need to hear she’s good.”

“It’s all good, boss. I know you’re worried about wifey. She’s a strong woman. Boss lady’s going to be alright. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. Call me as soon as you know something,” Mick responded.

“You're right. Thank you for holdin’ shit down.”

He laid his phone on the table, burying his face in his hands. The last few moments he spent with you were on repeat in his mind. Rio returned to the present, hearing the chair opposite him slide backward. His eyes connected with your father’s, and he readied himself for wherever the conversation would go.

It was no secret that the two hadn’t always seen eye to eye. The two men sat for several minutes before your father started speaking.

“I’ll be honest with you, man. You’re not at all what I envisioned for my daughter.”

“You seriously want to have this conversation right now?”

“Now wait, son. Let me finish.”

Hold up. It’s son now? Where is this going? It didn’t even sound disrespectful. It doesn’t sound like he’s trying to play me on some sucka shit. I’ll hear him out.

Rio nodded his head, giving your father the floor.

“I may not know all you do for a living, son, but I know you’ve managed to make a comfortable and safe life for my baby girl. When it comes down to it, that’s what I’ve always wanted for her. It took me some time to come to terms with it, but I know, without a doubt, that you’re doing everything in your power to make her feel protected and loved. Let me just say what I’m getting at,” he chuckled. “You’re good at hiding it, son, but I know you’re worried. Hell, so are we, but that’s alright.”

Rio’s head dropped, shoulders slumping. He took the opportunity to be vulnerable finally. Your father’s acceptance allowed him the space to do so. He felt a comforting grip land on his shoulder. Your father finished, “Baby girl is going to be alright, son. With all your love and support, she’ll be back on her feet soon. Now, you take a few more moments to yourself. Don’t be surprised when her momma wraps you up in a big hug when you head back. She’s worried about her favorite son-in-law.”

Rio chuckled, “I’m her only son-in-law, sir.”

“Even better. You ain’t gotta share. That sweet woman sure knows how to smother people in love.”

“You’re daughter is the same way. It’s one of the many things I love about her.”

“Which is why you understand my reasons for being so guarded. That’s my baby girl. Enough with that ‘sir’ shit too. Call me pops. My son may not like that, but I get a kick out of irritating him anyway. He’s overprotective of his sister.”

“Y’all gon’ try to take me out if I ever mess up, huh?”

“What I look like snitching on myself? Let’s not ever get to that bridge, son.”

The two men shared a laugh, but everything turned serious when they saw your mom power walking towards them. Rio's heart began thudding in his chest.

“Ma, what’s wrong? Did-.”

“Relax, sugar,” she cooed, rubbing a hand against both men’s arms. “The nurse said the doctor should be ready to talk to us in about fifteen minutes. Let’s head back to the waiting room.”

Fifteen minutes came and went. Your mother couldn’t help but crack a smile at both men. They both started fussing about how long the surgeon was taking. She felt sorry for the man once he approached them. The doctor, attempting to apologize, was cut off by an impatient Rio.

“You good, doc. We understand these things take time, but excuse us for being anxious. We were under the impression this would be about an hour-long procedure. How’s my wife?”

The surgeon explained himself. “That’s what we anticipated, but the process took longer. Your wife’s last ultrasound a few months back showed a fibroid the size of a plum. Sadly, it grew to the size of an orange, which would explain why things grew more difficult during her last few cycles. However, you’ll be happy to know that we managed to do it laparoscopically, and everything looks great. She’s being taken to recovery now, but we’ve decided to keep her overnight.”

All three of your family members asked, “Why is that,” in unison.

“We just want to keep an eye on her for the next twenty-four hours. Given gas was used to see things more clearly, we’d like to monitor her. We’ll need to see that she gets up and walks to get things flowing. I just want to be sure she gets it moving out of her system. Also, since she’s anemic, we just want to be extra careful. I promise everything went well, and she should be ready to go in the morning.”

Each family member felt at ease. The trio waited for an invitation to your recovery room. Though he wanted to be the first person you saw when you woke up, Rio encouraged your parents to go first. The two visitors' only rule irritated them all.

Your eyes fluttered open, and your parents laughed at the slurred responses given to your nurse. Your parents took turns kissing your forehead, expressing encouraging words. Your father, now at ease, left the room in search of Rio.

“You might want to hurry back there. She’s still a bit loopy. Baby girl has been asking the nurse, where my husband? You got my baby acting ratchet in this hospital,” he joked.

“Aye, she was like that when I met her,” he laughed, walking towards recovery.

Rio slid behind the curtain, laying eyes on the most precious sight. You were in bed, laid back, eyes closed, singing off-key as your mother held your hand, laughing. The nurse stepped beside him, giving a small giggle.

“She’s been looking for you. Ma’am, the man of the hour is here.”

Your eyes popped open as you halted the song. “My husbannnd! Hey baeee,” you winced, given the pain and having a hoarse voice.

“Mama, you back here wildin’ ain’t you? How’s our little patient doing, ma,” he directed toward your mom.

“Crazy as ever. This girl opened her eyes, looked at me, and called herself whispering. Loud as ever, she asked me if she still had a uterus. Her daddy would’ve turned red if he were capable.”

They both shared a laugh as you did your best to shrug shoulders. Wanting to give you two privacy, your mom went to sit in the waiting room. Rio turned to you, holding your hand. His lips brushed across your knuckles, and he shivered at how cold they were. Wrapping his hand around yours, he tried warming the digits.

“My momma ain’t answer my question though,” you mumbled, eyes closed.

Rio smiled, “What’s that now, mama?”

“My uterus. Sis still in there, right?”

“Yes, darlin’. What makes you think it’s not?”

“I signed them papers, man. In the event of a ‘mergency, they were going to take shawty,” you sassed, words still slurring.

Rio did his best to hold back a cackle. Clearing his throat, he replied, “Mama, you straight. Everything went according to plan. There was no emergency. The fibroid is out. It was bigger than expected. That’s why it feels like you were out for a while.”

“Aight bet. So when we making babies,” you asked, wincing again.

“First off, sit still, mama. Your body is pretty sore right now.”

“Baby, I’m drugged up! I don’t feel nothin’.”

“Second. You’ll be recovering for four to six weeks. You’re not going to be in any type of mood for all that. I believe the surgeon said no sex for two to three weeks. No babies for at least six months, darlin’. They just sliced your uterus open and stitched it back together, mama,” he explained, running his thumb across your lip.

He laughed at the pout etched on your face. Rio caressed the side of your face, kissing you gently. “On some real shit. I was worried out my mind over you, mama. I’m so glad you’re good. You’re my world. The clock kept ticking, and I was about to lose it.”

Your eyes connected with his, “I’m right here, papa. I’m good. We gonna be good. No matter what,” you whispered. Even through the drugs and drowsiness, you could feel his angst. Rio could read between the lines. He knew what you were trying to communicate. It had been on both your minds heavily. Your eyes connected with his. Rio saw the unshed tears you were holding back, and he swallowed hard, nodding his head in agreement. No matter where this path led, Rio knew, in his heart, that he loved you with everything in him.

Baby or not, we’ll still feel fulfilled and happy. My life’s purpose is to love and give you the world.

This piece was both personal and therapeutic for me to write. I truly hope you all enjoyed it. Please be sure to comment and reblog, it's appreciated. Now I'm about to go eat some birthday cake and read some amazing fan fiction😆.

Divider credit💜 : @firefly-graphics

tagging💜 : @4everbrookemarie @darqchilddaydreamz @astoldbychae @sunshine-flower

@nightlywords7 @starrynite7114 @amorestevens @fineanddandy

@rio-reid-whoreee @that-one-anxious-mango @novaniskye

@alertyoulikeitsamber @1andonlytashae @lovedlover @blkbutterfly816 @banana123pudding

#berberriescorner #through it all series #part one #rio x black!reader #rio x woc!reader #zaddy rio #daddy rio #rio good girls #good girls rio #rio x reader #rio x you #rio fanfic #rio fanfiction #spotify #manny montana #black fanfic writer #i love my mutuals😍 #it's my birthday #Libra SZN #Spotify

[utilitycaster]

The Twins in the Feywild

or, the adaptation is good, actually:

The thing about the Feywild arc in the Legend of Vox Machina is that it's not just a simple condensing of 20-ish hours into perhaps one hour; it's also at a notably different point in the story, and is changed to reflect that.

[as a sidebar: I am not tagging spoilers for Critical Role Campaign 1, as the episodes in question are 5+ years old. This post does have a large number of them, and in general, if you are new to CR and found this via the TLOVM tag, welcome! My blog will have spoilers for the campaign.]

In Campaign 1, after the Sunken Tomb and the encounter with Kamaljiori (who survives in the campaign, incidentally), all of Vox Machina heads towards Westruun. Grog has his (also different from TLOVM, also condensed in a thoughtful way that may be discussed in a separate post) struggles with Craven Edge, and they all encounter the Herd of Storms, deal with them, and kill Umbrasyl. The episode after they have killed the first of the four dragons responsible for the Conclave attacks, Umbrasyl the Hope Devourer, is aptly named Hope; they then go to Vasselheim where Vax formalizes his relationship to the Raven Queen, and then deal with Hotis back in Whitestone. The Deathwalker's Ward's flight power is also activated. Then they go to the Feywild, together (though Pike stays behind again due to Ashley's schedule.) In general, Vax has made peace with his decision, and the party is, for the most part, much more optimistic than they are here.

Here, all four dragons are still at large, Keyleth's spell was interrupted, Vax is still on edge, and the last thing they saw was Pike, impaled on Grog's sword. They are doing far worse.

So, understandably, Vax is in a sour mood the entire trip. This significantly changes his role, as he's less able to offer support for Vex. Keyleth is also more insecure.

The episode in Syngorn in the main campaign, which was also, notably, Critical Role's first ever live show with the tech hiccups and nerves that implies, is actually pretty funny. We do get the twins' encounter with Syldor - more on that later - but a large portion of the episode is dedicated towards stealing hats and trying to find a threshold crest for Garmelie (with Keyleth and Percy eventually outsmarting him on a technicality, in true Fey fashion); and the party accidentally implying and then fully leaning into implication that they are polyamorous and need a room so that they can have an orgy. I've seen indications that Syngorn was much grimmer than that; while the twins were understandably frustrated with it, it was far from a dark episode.

With the caveat that I have not read Kith and Kin, Syldor Vessar is one of the characters in Critical Role canon whom I feel the fandom has the most warped perception. He is a dick, to be clear; but on a scale of living character parents, he is treated with a vitriol the far worse Howaardt Darrington and Thoreau Lionett oddly dodge, and it says something that Tary and Beau never to our knowledge attempt to interact with their fathers again, whereas Vex maintains a distant and at times contentious but minimally cordial relationship with hers. (It's not unique for parents in this show to be given the madonna/whore treatment, as others have noted, and parents who fall most towards the middle of that false dichotomy tend to bear the brunt of it - see the Calloways and the Gentleman - but Syldor's treatment is, to be honest, inexplicable and weird.)

In "Heredity and Hats," Syldor is not warm or pleasant, but he does, in fact, apologize at length for his behavior and accepts that the twins have reason to hate him when he offers his assistance. (1x60, 47:58) He also accepts Percy's correction of Vex's title in full, and indeed, seems pleased by it (1x60, 55:22). He is not a good person, but he is, by the time the twins see him in the Feywild, a penitent one. And, in this episode, Vax is the one who is largely unconcerned with Syldor, with the implication he's already given up on him and doesn't particularly care, whereas Vex is much angrier.

However, that's all very difficult to convey in TLOVM in under ten minutes, when Vex's upcoming showdown with Saundor hinges on her insecurity surrounding how she was perceived in the past and her ongoing struggles with powerlessness. So in that, Syldor is far more dismissive, and Vax, who is still, as mentioned, in a very angry place himself, is, well, angry. It is a different tack! It also is a very smart choice given that in a campaign that lasts hundreds of hours, the rule is show don't tell; and in an animated series that must compress this into a tiny fraction of that time, that rule is lifted. This is not a time for the subtle background of Vex's C1 arc. There is no time for the subtle background of Vex's C1 arc. What matters is that the adaptation is consistent within itself; achieves the general, for lack of a better term, vibes and major plot beats of the original campaign; and can reach an audience unfamiliar with the source material. We can't make Syldor fascinatingly complex and Vax blasé here, so we don't, so that we can understand why Saundor is able to cut so close to the core of Vex before she's able to pull away.

It's different! And, yes, as someone who does like something very long-form and subtle and show-not-tell, I do prefer the original! I also think that within the limitations of an animated show with 6-hour seasons, with the assumption that the Feywild arc starts here (that is, with Vax still where he is emotionally, Umbrasyl alive, and Grog, Scanlan, and Pike absent), trying to otherwise keep things the same would feel artificial and unsatisfying, and fail to serve Vex's story. It is changed to heighten it in a medium that needs heightening because there's no time for breadth, and you can dislike it, but criticizing it for not being identical to the original is a particularly egregious missing of the point.

(It's also worth keeping in mind: have you rewatched this arc recently? Are you even comparing it to the story as it was, or are you comparing it to the story you remember, because, like it or not, Vex's story was always very much about her relationships to Syldor, Vax, and Percy, and her need to be liked; her flaw was that she simultaneously desperately needed people and hated herself for it.)

#i made a shitpostier version of this i've queued but like. hm. #i think the best way to put it is that a lot of people REALLY love to Strong Female Character Vex (and Keyleth) #while thinking they are absolutely not doing so #and it is. shall we say. irritating. #tlovm #tlovm spoilers #long post #critical role

[campgender]

i was scrolling your “life is in your home too” tag, which I love btw, and saw a post about how you learned to be a good dom from experienced expert doms by reading how they dom and some of their best scenes, do you think you could point me in the direction of some resources for me to study that too? thanks in advance, if not, thanks anyway!

(post referenced is here - link 1)

first of all tysm for this ask (+ your incredibly kind follow-up), it was a delight to receive + i’ve been wanting an excuse to talk about a lot of this for a while so i very much appreciate the interest!

as always please keep in mind that i am Just Some Fem, nothing is universal including when it comes to D/s & i can only speak to what works for me. i try to focus on starting points rather than specifics but ultimately my advice will always be limited by what i needed to hear & wasn’t told, which may not be what’s helpful for a different person. with that being said, here’s some suggestions!

i’ve posted a previous reading list (link 2) with relevant recs; particularly the practicality + sex writing sections have the kind of thing you’re looking for. specifically, The New Topping Book (2003) is a solid starting point; i definitely have my issues with it (haven’t read it recently enough to recall many specifics but i have the sense of general pervasive racism & ableism) but it did a good job at making me think & i appreciate the supportive tone they were going for

another book added to my tbr since then is Coming to Power (link 3), released by SAMOIS in 1983

other authors whose sex writing has been influential in my life: Sandra Cisneros, Natalie Diaz, Joan Nestle, Judy Grahn

the fic At The End of His Rope by Letterblade (link 4) is genuinely some of my favorite sex writing of all time & accomplishes the incredibly impressive feat of representing a broad array of dom styles & changes over time in the same piece

my “impurity culture” tag (link 5) houses the building blocks of my sexual ethic

i’ve found many of those foundations by poking around the incredible bodies of work original & archived @newsmutproject @woman-loving @gatheringbones

for me, studying sex is the same as studying poetry – reading for craft is a different process than for pleasure (not that there isn’t a great deal of pleasure to be found in such practice, especially for sadists – perhaps that’s why as a child i never resonated with Billy Collins’ “Introduction to Poetry,” like i love tying poems to chairs & beating them idk what to tell you). so, keeping in mind that these are suggestions not requirements, here’s how i read for + work on craft:

there is no such thing as too much journaling. this can take whatever form you prefer – voice memo, discord message to yourself, the noble notes app, your own personal sexy red string corkboard, a vast & stunning array of other approaches i can’t even begin to imagine. i personally have an elaborate web of spreadsheets & google docs lmao. what matters is developing a collection of ideas you want to play with + a practice of continually reflecting on past experiences.

pay attention to structure, not just content. find a scene you think is disjointed and pick at the seams, brainstorm better transitions. then find a scene that flows so smoothly it carries you with it and figure out what makes it work.

rewrite a scene you’re drawn to or affected by to suit your own preferences. i first did this when i couldn’t shake “Interlude 3” (link 6) from my head after reading The New Topping Book; you can read my variation on the theme here (link 7) if you’re interested.

write or think through a scene fantasy you have from negotiation to aftercare. obviously it’s very difficult if not impossible to fully script a scene in advance; the purpose isn’t planning something you’ll later do but rather getting used to coming up with ideas to get from one disparate moment / act to the next.

revisit a scene you’ve read, written, thought about, etc and list the physical & mental acts that are required / expected of the sub (eg, kneeling for 10 minutes; making eye contact; counting to 30, etc). then rework the scene for a sub who has the same interests & goals who cannot do 20% (or 50%, or any) of these acts.

revisit a previous scene and list the places where you think a sub might safeword & why. then rework it with the sub safewording somewhere that isn’t any of these places.

i also recommend keeping in mind that like… for me, reading about ethical sex can often be a very distressing process for the same reason that it’s liberating: because it proves that things i’ve experienced are not the way sex has to be. i’ll tell this story in its fullness one day but the first time i read S/HE by Minnie Bruce Pratt i literally had a flashback to events i’d repressed for years, it was devastating, i’m so grateful for it. hell, in the process of compiling resources for this post i cried twice editing this quote (link 8) because between reading that book the first time & now someone did “respond with scorn or ridicule” when i safeworded. so i would really encourage folks to approach this kind of work with as much grace & comfort for yourself as you can muster or borrow – if it’s really fucking hard, you’re not alone in that, & it’s okay to take your time + pace yourself + seek support.

your + others’ interest is definitely motivating me to actually write posts i’ve been tossing around for months so thank you again & feel free to keep an eye out for more shut-in sex tips in my new “tomorrow sexting will be good again” tag. would love to hear your thoughts on any of this post / these or other books / whatever really lol. wishing you all the best & i hope today is kind to you! 💓

#asks #D/s #reading lists #mac.txt #tomorrow sexting will be good again

[cleolinda]

Here's another song I had wanted to write about: Hozier's "Movement." It is a fact of my existence that I get into a musical artist/band about 10 years after everyone else does, and then they become 30% of my personality (see also: Florence and the Machine). So I didn't really get with the program until Wasteland, Baby, and even then, it was for an unusual reason.

When did this album come out, spring of 2019? I had spinal surgery in early 2018. A discectomy, L4/L5; the disc had gradually become herniated due to a fall I'd had at a convention. My surgeon was required to warn me that surgery would come with a (low) chance of paralysis; it was my choice to make. After two weeks of seizing up in pain every hour or so, confined to my bed—hydrocodone did nothing—I chose the scalpel. Even then, it was another four weeks before he could work me into the operating schedule. Trust me when I say, no matter how I'm doing now, I do not regret having that surgery.

But he also told me, "You will always be a person who has had spinal surgery." Since anything was better than screaming every time I moved, I didn't fully understand what he meant until a year or so later, when I was still in pain—a chronic but lower-grade pain that came and went depending on how much activity I dared try that particular day. It was infinitely better than before. And, but, yet, I still deal with that chronic pain today. I will always be that person.

"Walk," he told me. I had a packet of therapy exercises to do, sure, but he was firm on this point. "That's the main exercise you need. Just walking." Which I couldn't do at first—I didn't have to learn to walk again or anything, but I was in a wheelchair early on, then on a wheeled walker for a couple of months. I also have inherited neuropathy in my feet, which was exacerbated by electrically painful sciatic nerve damage down my right leg while I waited for my slot in the surgery calendar. (I swear to God I will start talking about music soon.) I only walk across the longest side of my backyard. I don't leave it and walk around the neighborhood, because I generally have about two minutes upright to get back to the house once my feet start hurting.

So I had been struggling with my walking assignment for about a year when "Movement" came out. Of course it's literally about physically moving (and emotionally being moved), but that wasn't what captured me. The song starts out slow and reflective; it was a gentle tempo for a time when I couldn't walk very fast, and I still use it as a warm-up today. But there are two other things I love about it. One, the willow tree in the chorus, as I was walking my little runway back and forth under a canopy of wild water oak draped with wisteria, looking up into the sun through the leaves and snowflake flowers of an overgrown cherry laurel. Sound met landscape.

But the other thing is how—generous? accepting?—the words are of the "you" of the song. This person, the lyrics say, does not have to be a virtuoso dancer like Fred Astaire or Sergei Polunin (who's in the video up there). Instead, "you're Atlas in his sleeping, and when you move, I'm moved." My absolute favorite part is,

Move like grey skies Move like a bird of paradise Move like an odd sight come out at night

What the fuck even are these lyrics. I can't. That's so good. You ever sit there as a writer and think, I'm so mad I didn't come up with that? Just the pure unexpectedness, "I'm telling you how earthshakingly amazing this person is. Like a beautiful willow, like a rare bird, like some weird-ass cryptid in the night, I don't even know what that was about but I love it." What even. So good.

And I was for sure an odd sight shambling back and forth across the back of my yard: five minutes at first. Then ten the next week, working my way up to thirty, still in a dull roar of constant pain a year into my recovery. But this is a song that says, your efforts to move are moving, whatever movement is natural for you; you may be sleeping just now, you may be moving without moving, but you are wonderful not in spite of being strange in your movements, but because of it. The song always feels like a friend walking along with me, no matter how many setbacks I have, or how slow I have to go.

Anyway, Unreal Unearth comes out next Friday. The five songs Hozier's put out so far are ridiculously good, and I've scheduled a couple of months to be completely feral about it. When the weather is less dangerously hot, we'll find out which songs are good to move to.

#music #music discussion #me for some reason #long post #hozier

[theflyindutchwoman]

And you're so concerned about my love life because? Because I don't want to drive around on patrol with you while you are moping about screwing this up. Look, if you like this girl, you should listen to her.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 4.10 - Heart Beat

For a scene that is supposed to be about Tim and his relationship with Ashley, it is very interesting how it actually highlights the bond he has with Lucy… Something that is made perfectly clear with the way it parallels this moment from The Bet : 'Why do I care if Tim dates? […] You just want everyone to be happy'. (2.03) This exchange completes this scene so well, showing how this is really all about these two. How they just want the other to be happy. How she has often helped him in his relationships, how he has always listened to her and this, from the beginning. Lucy may not be particularly fond of Ashley but Tim is and that's all that matters to her. That's why she basically runs after him.

There might be a slight hesitation at first, where she realises that she might be overstepping a bit here, but she also knows that he needs to be made aware of her conversation with his girlfriend. The fact that Ashley felt more comfortable talking about her fears with her, instead of Tim, already speaks volume. And while Lucy might have joked around in the shop, I think that phone call shed a different light on the situation and made her understand that Tim didn't fully get what was going on. That what he interpreted as a dislike for Kojo is instead a fear of him. And she is so taken aback by how cavalier he is at first. I don't think she expected him to react this way. Though that is a thing with Tim : he can be dismissive but he listens. He takes the time to reflect on his own behavior so he can change it. Like when Lucy called him out for the way he treated the gardeners in the pilot or when she was upset that he was getting the credits for her hard work. And this is what is happening here, he's following that same pattern… He needed to hear this. More specifically : he needed to hear this from Lucy herself. Which makes her statement later all the more ironic.

This is really in-character for Tim to deflect a bit. But there's also a genuine curiosity when he asks her why she cares so much about his love life. They're still in this space where they're testing each other in some ways. It says a lot that he doesn't even think of biting her head off for interfering in the first place, like he used to. They are so far passed that. And it is a very good question… One she asked herself after setting him up with Rachel. And yes, this is who she is : she wants the people around her to be happy. But this is different. We have yet to see her set up anyone else on a date or try to help them mend their relationship the same way. Even when Jackson was having issues with Sterling, she simply offered a shoulder to cry on. That little extra is reserved for Tim, and Tim only. That's what makes this parallel so good in my opinion. Because he himself didn't even question it back then. But now that things are changing between them, he is. Their hug, that almost-kiss, their blatant flirting at work… The fact that he needed her at his side when he confronted his father… This is all adding up and there's an awareness that is starting to grow… But what makes this parallel even more special, is how it underlines their selflessness. They have always helped each other in their respective relationships, regardless of their opinions and feelings. The other's happiness is what matters to them. Even here, it's hard to know whether Lucy is aware of her own feelings for him at this point, but either way, she simply sets them aside to help him - consciously or not.

And like I said earlier, her advice is full of irony : 'if you like this girl, you should listen to her'. Because he does already follow this to the letter… with HER. She is the one person he always listens to. The one that makes him want to be better. Tim being offended at her implication that he mopes is downright hilarious - especially in light of season 5a. Her little smirk when she walks away… His epic eye roll… The more things change, the more they stay the same.

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #4.10 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

[thesherrinfordfacility]

✨ episode 1/2 - running commentary✨

- ok so im slightly disappointed that it's the eps i watched in the screening BUT IM DETERMINED TO LOVE IT ANYWAY SO WE REMAIN OPTIMISTIC AND WE MOVE~~

- angel crowley is so young and innocent my poor boy he's been through so much

- like now im watching it, it feels like putting it in a cinema was a Bad Choice and maybe that's why I didn't like it??? it feels way more authentic and cosy on tv

- im sorry but crowley sounds like such an old man in the park scene, "frozen peas... it's good for them too🙂"

- seriously this is so much more palatable on tv format i can't get over it

- OH MAGGIE I LOVE YOU

- aziraphale god bless ur little cotton socks

- god crowley's legs got me SWEATIN

- ugh crowleys hand in the cafe is so FRUITY

- lmao "purely selfish action" aziraphale is so self aware and I love it

- no im sorry but goob is the fucking star of the show you cannot change my mind but dialogue and delivery wise he is currently CARRYING

- Dartmoor mention had me creasing, that's literally on my doorstep

- aziraphale's bitchy ass face then he sits down in the backroom honestly watered my crops and healed nature

- okay im sorry but the dialogue is still a little off for me I won't lie💀

- beelzebub's accent is just 😘👌 perfect, but equally feel like they'd be perfect in a production of oliver

- god believe me i feel for nina but... I... do not like her, and they are NOT suited for each other at all

- I LEARNT MY PASSION IN THE GOOD OLD FASHIONED SCHOOL OF LOVER BOYS

- that dance is so low effort I'm sorry it should have been the macarena or cha cha slide

- crowley's bow tho is so hot he's so graceful he looks like a swan

- and yeah the refs to the other years that aziraphale did the dance is GIVING ME HEART PALPITATIONS ugh

- he and goob are like cats on a hot tin roof like IMMEDIATE hissing vibes

- lmao ok so that episode does end there then... such a weird ending im sorry but yeah let's fully retract the alternate episode theory (but @prime you need to hire me for s3 just a thought bc 👀)

- anyway ep2 I'm sorry but the angelic herald speech thing is cute and funny but also so cringe hmmm

- gabriel is lord farquaad ugh

- I HAVE TO REMEMBER THIS IS A COMEDY UGH but i miss the slightly serious undertones in s1 sob god I hope they come back later on

- UGH THE TURTLENECK🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

- shax is mommy I don't make the rules

- I noted it in the screening but angel wings for earrings, Maggie????

- nice job on the lie aziraphale well done once again making excellent choices you're so smart and valid (utter moron)

- "SOUNDS A BIT UNLIKELY" LMAO GET FUCKED CROWLEY

- oh goob you really are going through it my bby I love u

- crowley's face after may god forgive you KILLS ME this scene is honestly the stand out one in both ep1 and ep2 if you ask me

- TY TY TY god bless u but you also make me so uncomfortable

- jobs youngest kid truly gives me life

- lmao the fact that aziraphale does actually recognise when crowley tempts him is hilarious tho bc he just conveniently disregards it by the bench scene in s1 hmmm character development or character regression WHO KNOWS

- ok no I'm sorry but the mukbang scene is so unnecessary and uncomfortable

- "whack the kids" honestly the best line of this scene imo, but upon reflection and rewatching it, crowley's demeanour is rather heartbreaking whilst he's reclined getting ratted

- FRANCES FRANCES FRANCES ✨💓

- 'but just to be able to ask the question' UGH CROWLEY STOP

- lmao shoemaking and obstetrics what a combo god bless

- THEY CAN ARRIVE AT ANY SIZE lmao and Michael is too sharp for their own good... but I do hate that gabriel is utterly inept, he came across as cruel and calculating if a little ignorant in s1 but not this comedically stupid

- "yes I bloody am" TY MY LOVE

- Michael sheen and David Tennant deserve nominations for the children swap scene alone, imo the strongest bit of acting in the ep im sorry 'you have my word as an angel' KILL ME

- why is nina obsessed with crowley, like I get it babes but also why

- THEY ARE SO MARRIED MT PARTNER AND I ARGUE OVER THE CAR ALWAYS "our car" LMAO 💀💀💀

- ✨✨✨IT WAS A NICE DAY, ALL THE DAYS HAD BEEN NICE✨✨✨

- ok the rock scene is so much more emotional on tv, so much better

OKAY RIGHT EP3 LETS HAVE ITTTTT

#good omens #good omens season 2 #go2 commentary #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #not a shitpost but its good omens babyyyy #edit: it unnerves me that neil liked this cesspit of inner monologue but similarly the man's a madlad and cannot be contained #go off i guess

[vickyvicarious]

Jonathan is really being very clear about his survival strategy today.

I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too diffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, for there is something so strange about this place and all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy. [...] Let me be prosaic so far as facts can be; it will help me to bear up, and imagination must not run riot with me. If it does I am lost. Let me say at once how I stand—or seem to.

Write everything down in detail so that he can confirm it later. Already, several odd instances have happened, as well as him noting multiple times on different days that "the Count himself did x" which then supported his theory, confirmed today, that there are no servants here.

I started, for it amazed me that I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it at the moment. Having answered the Count's salutation, I turned to the glass again to see how I had been mistaken. This time there could be no error, for the man was close to me, and I could see him over my shoulder. But there was no reflection of him in the mirror! The whole room behind me was displayed; but there was no sign of a man in it, except myself.

When something weird happens, double-check to make sure you observed it correctly. In this case he checked back in his mirror and yes, there really was no reflection.

When I found that I was a prisoner a sort of wild feeling came over me. I rushed up and down the stairs, trying every door and peering out of every window I could find; but after a little the conviction of my helplessness overpowered all other feelings. When I look back after a few hours I think I must have been mad for the time, for I behaved much as a rat does in a trap. When, however, the conviction had come to me that I was helpless I sat down quietly—as quietly as I have ever done anything in my life—and began to think over what was best to be done. I am thinking still, and as yet have come to no definite conclusion. Of one thing only am I certain; that it is no use making my ideas known to the Count. He knows well that I am imprisoned; and as he has done it himself, and has doubtless his own motives for it, he would only deceive me if I trusted him fully with the facts. So far as I can see, my only plan will be to keep my knowledge and my fears to myself, and my eyes open. I am, I know, either being deceived, like a baby, by my own fears, or else I am in desperate straits; and if the latter be so, I need, and shall need, all my brains to get through.

A whole bunch going on here. His instinctive reaction is panic, but a type of panic that actually matches his character really well: being thorough, checking every possible option. But as soon as he can, he calms down and tries to think things through logically. His solution: keep quiet about it.

We saw this the other day in the caleche ride actually. Jonathan specifically said that he if he was right that the driver was deliberately delaying, then asking about it wouldn't help in any case. It's the same thing here: his own observations make it clear that Dracula is acting against him, and confronting him about it would only prompt him to lie. Worse, he may get more openly aggressive. Better to stay quiet and observant. Try to think clearly.

He did not come at once into the library, so I went cautiously to my own room and found him making the bed. This was odd, but only confirmed what I had all along thought—that there were no servants in the house. When later I saw him through the chink of the hinges of the door laying the table in the dining-room, I was assured of it; for if he does himself all these menial offices, surely it is proof that there is no one else to do them. This is a terrible thought; for if so, what does it mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, by only holding up his hand in silence. How was it that all the people at Bistritz and on the coach had some terrible fear for me? What meant the giving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of the mountain ash? Bless that good, good woman who hung the crucifix round my neck! for it is a comfort and a strength to me whenever I touch it. It is odd that a thing which I have been taught to regard with disfavour and as idolatrous should in a time of loneliness and trouble be of help. Is it that there is something in the essence of the thing itself, or that it is a medium, a tangible help, in conveying memories of sympathy and comfort? Some time, if it may be, I must examine this matter and try to make up my mind about it. In the meantime I must find out all I can about Count Dracula, as it may help me to understand. To-night he may talk of himself, if I turn the conversation that way. I must be very careful, however, not to awake his suspicion.

Jonathan recontextualizes earlier incidents based on his current knowledge, and builds hypotheses about what might be going on. He doesn't immediately jump to conclusions but he also doesn't dismiss seemingly supernatural or superstitious elements, both helpful and harmful. He uses the fact that Dracula likes to talk to him in order to subtly gather information. He also is clear here that he doesn't immediately write down his suspicions. He's thought since the beginning that Dracula was alone here, but has confined himself to mentioning direct observations until he had firm enough evidence to confirm his theory. I think this is especially interesting in the context of things like him not mention outright that Dracula could beat him in a physical confrontation, or stuff like him not wandering the castle too far yesterday. He may well be thinking about what 'locked doors' mean with great worry immediately, but he doesn't act right away and doesn't tell his entire chain of thought to his journal. Later on when he may seem to jump to conclusions at times it's very possible that he's had theories percolating for a long time before mentioning them.

Above all he tries to operate under facts, and to keep calm and amass as much information as possible, while staying under the radar as much as possible.

#dracula daily #jonathan harker #dracula meta #my meta

[allamericansbitch]

How do you reason if taylor doesnt speak up about palestine in the near future? Because there’s an air of finality in her silence about this cause. Especially now that we know an israeli supporter (capital one) sponsored her US leg of tour, even her eras tour seems dirty. She is so quick to release new versions of ttpd (31 versions as of now), after billie indirectly called her out.

(Sidebar— yes billie may be a hypocrite to talk about wasteful variants of albums to be produced one after another to supplement chart topping. BUT she wasn’t wrong and not only was taylor in a position to set an example of reducing waste in music industry because of her titan status, she used that position to punch down further on billie’s release week, despite it not affecting ttpd’s #1 rank. Talk about stepping on her gown and taking her crown. Olivia creating a distance from taylor since the royalties incident has left a bad taste in my mouth.)

Also, its not helpful that she dated and defended a racist last year, wrote an album about him.

small tangent before i get to the main point: i've said this before billie isn't a hypocrite for the vinyl thing. i think y'all really need to start looking into the actual articles instead of just reading headlines or hearing out-of-context quotes. the entire article with billie was about sustainability and how she works hard to make her variants out of 100% recycled material so they're less wasteful. she wasn't saying she was against all vinyl variants in general, she was saying she's against people who make a bunch of variants and not put the effort in to make sure it's not wasteful like she does. she was just asking people to be more sustainable with their variants.

now to the main point: i've already made peace a long time ago that she's not a good person. when she doubled down on dating a vocal bigot who says slurs for fun and gets off to black women getting brutalized and tried to make it look empowering for her, releasing a song about anyone who doesn't like bigotry as 'vipers dressed in empath's clothing', and just becoming the embodiment of true white feminism and being a huge hypocrite, fully abandoning her activism and regressing to the generic apolitical 'remember to register to vote' posts that she made before she promised to do more, all that plus she's also been openly ableist with parts of ttpd in terms of using problematic displays of mental hospitals/breakdowns and using them as an 'aesthetic', mocking/invalidating other peoples addiction/depression but then asking for empathy with her own mental issues, working with and befriending multiple abusers, zionists, etc all while remaining silent on a genocide that is dependent on gaining traction and attention so people can raise money to help (also releasing the eras tour movie in Israel actively during the genocide, then later selling it to disney+ which is on the boycott list) but making sure she's still the biggest star in the world, maintaining her platform but never using it for anything important or good, asking for more money for herself and fully showing that charts are more important to her than injustice or helping fellow humans, and showing all the causes she once said she cared about don't really matter to her.

i've fully accepted that she's not gonna talk about the genocide she can easily help. and if by a shocking turn of events she does, we'll all know it's because she was losing fans not because she actually cares (which i know isn't the point, it's not about her, and her speaking up will help the cause so much so she still should; but i'm speaking in terms of how it reflects on her and her intentions). none of this should be surprising, i've seen a lot of people say this might be their last straw with her and that's completely valid, but my last straw was used up about a year ago. none of her new behavior is causing frustration to me because i was already frustrated to begin with. i don't need to reason with it because i did a long time ago.

#answered #anonymous