#game of throes edit

[arcaeda]

11. A memory that may or may not have happened

experience caeda's memories

TW: character death + decently detailed description of said death

it was a split second decision she had made in the moment. an enemy turned willing ally just seconds before— accosted by the enemies that they previously called their friends. “go, now!” she calls out to her new ally, forcing them to unite with marth’s army without her. it would be faster to carry them on her pegasus but a novice to pegasus riding would not be able to hold onto her in this turbulence. she would risk a falling death of her new ally with that route. her only option, then, is to distract. she will fare this onslaught better than them. the wing spear slams against the blade of an enemy before she takes to the skies again. the attention is on her, good—

she does not see the archer hiding away from her in plain sight. she does not see the tug of the bowstring as an arrow is pointed her way. she does not see its release.

“CAEDA—!!!” the princess of talys hears the voice of her beloved as her head turns, her hair whipping in the wind as she does so. an arrow pierces her leg, and then another pierces the wings of her pegasus. her pegasus cries out in shock, the arrow in her leg preventing her from holding onto the saddle with her legs as her mount bucks her off his saddle and struggles to keep flying. she grips the rein of her trusted companion with one hand as she dangles dangerously off her still struggling pegasus, but the long battle before them had sapped much of her strength. her grip fails her and she unwillingly lets go of her last lifeline.

she catches his gaze as she falls from her pegasus. the terrified expression on his face as if he was only just realizing what was happening as he hurried to her side with a painfully desperate wish to save her.

tears momentarily fill her eyes for the last moment of her life that she spends still conscious and breathing.

the most regrettable part for caeda was not that she knew this was the moment her life would end, but that she knew this was the moment she would be separated forever from marth until they were to reunite in death. she remembers the request that she had made of kris. that he must protect the hero-king when she cannot be there for him.

do not be sad, my love. she wants to tell him. you are not alone without me. she wants to tell him. there are still those who love you alive in this world. she wants to tell him.

her lips open to speak—

her body lands on the unstable ground with a sickening crunch, her life snuffed out the instant her body had slammed against the ground. the last sight of the beloved princess of talys for the hero-king and his loyal shadow is a bloodied and broken body... taken from him by war and the selfless personality he had always loved of her.

#tw character death #{ ic. } #{ headcanons. } #{ i think that it's only fitting her death in game would be one that happened to her because she was recruiting someone. teehee } #{ “which recruitment is this” i didn't write this with a specific one in mind so you the reader can decide } #{ ALSO on EDIT: dying from going to recruit someone is not just ic for her personality reasons but also for person playing the game reason #im sure many people sent caeda in the throes of death to recruit a new unit and she died because of it LMAOO }

[laurenmitchellwrites]

TTRPG Contributions

For Cosm Games:

Crucible: Proofreader and playtester

For Ex Stasis Games:

Death Throes (for the Trophy system): Writer, 'Sourdough Uprising' scenario (2022)

For Hunters Entertainment:

Outbreak: Undead.. (ongoing...)

Writer, Free Content Friday, 'Outbreak at Echidna Ridge' scenario (2020)

Writer, Australian content in ZOMBV (2020)

Writer, [redacted - upcoming]

Exquisite Crime (2022)

Social Media Manager

Gods of Metal: Ragnarock (2023)

Social Media Manager

Playtester

Content contributed: Image alt text (core book digital edition); character Howlite 'Howl' Howler, Amplord Avatar of Kekatari

Alice is Missing: Silent Falls (2023)

Customer Support and Fulfilment

Kids on Bikes: Second Edition (2023)

Customer Support and Fulfilment

Geologist's Primer (2023)

Customer Support and Fulfilment

#ex stasis games #death throes #hunters entertainment #outbreak: undead.. #Exquisite Crime #Gods of Metal: Ragnarock #Alice is Missing #Alice is Missing: Silent Falls #Kids on Bikes #Kids on Bikes: Second Edition #Geologist's Primer #Cosm Games #Crucible

[dutifullylazybread]

WIP tag game

Thank you @freesidexjunkie for tagging me. This came at just the right time--I have JUST the little tidbit to share with everyone. Tagging @el-tur-el, @lostinforestbound, @darkurgetrash, and @commander-krios. No pressure at all to respond to the tag, but you're always welcome! :)

SO HERE IS A LITTLE SOMETHING SOMETHING FROM CHAPTER 10. It's a lil spicy:

Warning ahead--this isn't edited. So it might be rough.

“Gods, damn it all!” Tav hissed. She stood in the dead center of her room, fighting to untie the laces running down her back.

She had noticed a knot, a small, hardly noticeable thing, as she dressed for her performance earlier that day. She hadn’t thought it would make it next to impossible to remove the damn thing.

She pushed a hand through her hair. She could always go to dinner like this and say that she had gotten distracted by something or another beforehand.

“Tav? Are you almost ready?” Rolan wrapped on her bedroom door. 

“No,” she said with a sigh.

“May I come in?”

She pulled the door open for him.

“There’s a knot in the lacing,” she said. “I can’t even loosen the blasted thing.” She tried to gesture at the lacework running down her back, though she didn’t know how much good she was doing when she could only vaguely motion to the problem. “Could you… help me with this?”

Rolan stiffened. “Are you—” He cleared his throat. “But of course. Turn around.”

“If you’re not comfortable with this—”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Turn around.”

Tav did so. She faced her desk, where the small vanity mirror reflected the two of them. Rolan tested the laces, plucking and tugging until he found enough give to work with. His face was flushed a wine-dark red, and he kept his focus trained on the back of her bodice.

“Perhaps it’s time to look into different outfits for the performances,” he said.

He tugged Tav back into him when he pulled on the lacing a bit too roughly. 

And in the mirror, Tav watched Rolan’s gaze slide to the swell of her breasts—quickly, before he forced himself to resume.

After ten minutes of toiling, the knot was undone, and her bodice loosened. She caught the front of her dress as the fabric began to peel away, revealing the shading of her nipples. The cold air hit her exposed back.

“I’ll… let you take care of the rest,” Rolan said. In the mirror, she saw him avert his gaze.

“You know…” Tav said slowly. “I wouldn’t mind your help undressing the rest of the way.”

He lurched to a halt, his shoulder jarring into the doorframe. “Don’t be silly, you can manage that much on your—”

Realization hit him like a lightning bolt.

“Oh… Oh.”

She bit back a laugh. True, she hadn’t even kissed his lips yet, but she wasn’t opposed to their first kiss being in the throes of passion.

Uncertain, Rolan came to stand behind her. He resumed unlacing her bodice, his fingers gentle, precise… and shaking.

“Rolan, you don’t have to—” Her sentence melted into a moan when he pressed his lips into the slope of her neck. His chuckle, muffled against her skin, coiled beneath her naval and drew a blush to her upper chest and neck.

His hands drifted down to her skirt fabric, balling it up in two fists at her waist. He dragged her against him, the texture of his robe dragging over her bare back. His cock was hard, pressing into her ass.

She couldn't resist. She rolled into him, and he shuddered around her.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 rolan #baldurs gate 3 #rolan #rolan bg3 #got some spicy writing right here #writing tag #rolan fanfic

[dustdeepsea]

WIP Wednesday

Edit: The story has been completed and posted here on AO3 :)

It's Wednesday here in the future :)

Working Title: Nine Lives (sequel to aqua vitae) Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: Teen (non-explicit excerpt) Relationships: Rugan/Tav (Baldur’s Gate)

This is set post-game, so possible spoilers for the end of act 3.

Note: This is a work in progress and is subject to major changes in the final published version. It is not proof-read or edited; all typos are mine.

Falling feels like flying. Tumbling through the sky, you feel like a rag doll cast out of an angry child’s pram.

One final tantrum from the Netherbrain in its death throes.

So this is how I go, you think. You feel strangely at peace, watching the water below rush towards you, smooth and serene as glass from up high. You look around at your friends, your eyes watering as the wind streams past your face. 

One last image to hold in your mind.

Gale reaches out, his hands moving in desperate patterns, even though you know that by now he’s burnt through every scrap of his reserves. At the same time, Astarion breaks the wax seal on a scroll with both hands. His catlike grace makes him appear seated in mid-air, suspended. He was always the better rogue.

You feel the gentle tug of transmutation magic, as you are lifted up by the scruff of your neck. Featherfall sparkles around you in the sunlight. You are still descending rapidly, but floating upright now. Spread out before you is the ruined cityscape, the harbour, the grey ships and their sails. Everything and everyone you’ve fought so hard for. 

You draw your arms and legs in, and shut your eyes.

The spell gives out three metres above the water, and you splash into the river. The cold water is a shock to your aching, battle-worn body. Your limbs seize up. You feel bubbles rush over and around you.

It takes a moment before your survival instincts kick in and your lungs begin to scream.

I want to live. 

The thought animates your leaden legs, forces them to flutter and kick. Thrashing your way upwards, you break the surface and gasp for air.

The end of the world has come and gone. You’ve survived.

The doors to the Elfsong are thrown wide open, and everyone in the city seems to be either passing through the bar, or spilling out into the streets with their drinks and singing loudly. The cellars have been emptied, and every bard in town seems to be playing on the same stage tonight. Commerce is the lifeblood of Baldur’s Gate, you recall Wyll saying. There’s nothing better for business than a near brush with death.

At some point, someone cast Prestidigitation on you, and pressed a hot drink into your hand. You clutch it numbly, the cup long grown cold.

Tomorrow, there will be a reckoning. You think about your remaining companions, your time together already coming to an end. So many goodbyes were already said that afternoon on the pier—you shake your head to interrupt the dismal thoughts. For now, you’re alive and that’s all that matters.

You can’t fault the people of Baldur’s Gate for celebrating. You would do the same if you were in their shoes.

The noise and press of the people around you is driving you mad. You put down your cup and push your way to the doors. All around you, the cheer goes up, red faces saluting you with their drinks. They hoot and holler, and shout your name.

“Tav! Tav! Tav!”

You smile and wave to your adoring crowd, as you edge your way to the exit. The roar of the tavern crowd fades as you leave their field of vision and they turn back to their revelry. You slip away from the crowd milling near the entrance and out into the night.

Most of the buildings in the Lower City are still standing, minus a few spires. Further away, folks stand around scattered bonfires, drinking and speaking more quietly.

You take in a deep breath and wrinkle your nose. The air is crisp but smells of acrid woodsmoke and ozone. Piles of illithid bodies are being burnt and tossed into collapsed doorways. Still, it’s better than being trapped indoors.

You exhale, and lean against a nearby facade that's intact. It feels like you’ve been holding your breath since you landed in the river.

“Now, that doesn’t sound very festive.” A gently chiding voice drifts over from the street.

You lift your head and watch its owner approach you, open bottle in hand. Of course he would be here, sauntering up to you, after half the city had been destroyed. This man clearly has nine lives.

“Rugan,” you say, and a smile breaks over his face. Exhausted as you are, you feel your lips quirk upwards in response.

“Tav.” He’s standing right in front of you now, and your body remembers a different night in a small room, lit by dim lamplight. You hope it’s not written all across your face.

“I like the hair piece,” he says, gesturing with the bottle.

Puzzled, you reach up towards your head and your hands close around a braided flower crown. Someone must have placed it on you in the tavern without you noticing. You pull it off, slowly, the wildflowers scattering tiny yellow and white petals as they catch in your hair. 

It hangs from your hands, loosely, as you glance between it and his amused face. “It’s been a very long day,” you say, finally, and he laughs.

“Long is an understatement, lass.” He offers you the bottle and you readily accept.

“Word on the street is that we have you and your crew to thank for all of us still being alive,” he says, as you take a sip. It tastes green and medicinal on your tongue. “Let me buy you a proper drink inside.”

Highsun liqueur. You lick your lips and sigh. 

“I shouldn’t.” You rub at your face and suppress a shudder at the thought of the roiling crowd in the Elfsong. “Sorry—I haven’t dared to have a drink all evening. If I accept one, I will have to drink them all, and then I'll wake up passed out in the Chionthar.”

He nods sagely, like it’s a dilemma that he’s encountered many times before. “Well, what would you like to do instead?” he asks, placidly. There’s no hint of leering or suggestion in his voice.

You’re stunned for a moment. No one’s asked you that question in a kindly manner, for a very long while. Gods and devils and their emissaries have hounded you relentlessly for what feels like forever, spurring you from one wild task to the next, the tadpole in your head all the while a ticking time-bomb.

“What should we do, Tav?” used to mean—which awful choice do we make now? Who gets to live? Who dies next?

For the first time in a long time, you can answer without despairing.

“I have an idea. Come with me.” Impulsively, you drop the flower crown on the ground, and take his hand. It’s large and warm against yours. 

He looks surprised, but doesn’t protest as you tug him towards the side of the tavern building, where fewer people are about. You hand the bottle back to him, and let go of his hand to rummage around in your satchel. With a flourish, you pull out the scroll of Dimension Door. You’ve earned this, all hundred gold pieces worth of it. No more scrimping and saving for the next fight. 

Linking your arms, you look at Rugan and flash him a perfectly ordinary, non-crazed grin. “Hold onto me,” you say, and crack the seal, teleporting you both to the rooftop of the Elfsong.

#wip #wip wednesday #rugan #rugan x tav #rugan x reader #my writing #I've accidentally started another series send help #dustdeepsea fic: nine lives #dustdeepsea series: trouble will find me

[deathbyoctopi]

Consider the logic in CQL...

Song Lan arrives at Yi City (ok), a-Qing brings him to the yizhuang (good) and he sees Xue Yang enter before him and trick Xiao Xingchen to go to market with the stick game.

Song Lan looks appropriately mad, clenched fists, single tear down his eye, the whole set. That is his enemy and not only is he cozy with Xiao Xingchen and mocking his blindness, but Xiao Xingchen is actually laughing at his stupid jokes? Yeah, I'd be angry too.

BUT!!!

But now look at Song Lan's face when he sees Xue Yang exit the yizhuang!

Eyes of realization!!! Of deep, deep surprise and betrayed feelings! THIS seems to be, in cql, the exact moment when Song Lan truly realizes just WHO was talking, joking, living, fucking with Xiao Xingchen all this time!

And upon rewatching, yeah... Xue Yang has his face turned away when he enters (you might argue Song Lan doesn't recognize his body, hair, mannerisms, and half-turned profile from afar). The yizhuang gate is narrow (you might argue that the angle is off to see Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen sitting inside). And if Xue Yang's voice can fool Xiao Xingchen, it ought to fool Song Lan for the duration of that conversation, too.

SO!

So the anger we saw in Song Lan before... When he saw a-Qing's so-called "bad man" going in the yizhuang... whom he has not recognized yet as Xue Yang.... The anger he feels, clenched fist and tear and all, is NOT directed at Xue Yang at all!!! But to a nameless, faceless guy who happens to be living with Xiao Xingchen, who keeps him company, whom Xingchen finds funny and trusts enough to accept with mirth his jokes about his blindness!!!

Did you hear that??? Song Lan is absurdly angry at that point at a domestic, cozy scene between his (old flame? soulmate he rejected in the throes of anger?) friend and some other dude who he probably considers unworthy and dislikes immediately.

Or, what I interpret from that editing alone...

....Song Zichen-daozhang is jealous!!! XD

Jealous of that one guy who took his place and wormed his way into Xiao Xingchen's life, and makes him happy (maybe even in ways SL himself never was capable of!! At least, I don't think he could make XXC laugh so often and so openly like XY can).

And yeah, yeah, we ALL know how thoroughly cql fucked up with some things like the timelines and characterization, so this is being nitpicky to the point of madness for a 12 second sequence, but... I just find it very funny. I came to The Untamed with no idea there was a book and so this is what I had for the story until my third viewing, when I started investigating and found so much more.

Sooo, just like me, there are people who might only come to know the story in that format, and to them I wish the same conclusion I had. Jealous Song Lan is jealous XD

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #song lan #xiao xingchen #xue yang #and of COURSE #xuexiao #even if only hinted at #these guys had THREE YEARS #and excellent chemsitry #you cannot tell me they were not getting any coffin action #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #the untamed #cql #ways in which cql hilariously fucked up #yi city

[ruiniel]

Broken traps

Fandom: The Silmarillion

Characters: Andreth, Bregor, Sauron

Rating: T

CW: animal injury

Summary: Andreth stumbles upon a wounded wolf in the forest.

Written for Scribbles & Drabbles 2023, inspired by this wonderful artwork from @cilil. Ongoing, will be two parts.

@fall-for-tolkien

Edit: Part II

I.

The afternoon is ripe in its arrival, dappling the woods with shivering lights of orange and gold. Bregor cuts through the overgrowth with his long knife, and his steps are followed by those of his lively sister.

They walk the usual path around Ladros in silence, Bregor humming to himself as he traces the locations with traps he'd placed to see what they yielded.

"You set these so far within the forest?" Andreth asks, a wicker basket with leaves and roots on her arm.

"I had to, game has been so scarce, and the cold season is upon us soon. We know not the sudden source of this lessening."

"I thought Father had organized longer expeditions for this purpose, in the coming moon?" The thought of this attempt sits ill with her, but then, Andreth has only recently reached adulthood and begun to look into the affairs of the family.

"Aye..." says Bregor, thoughtful as he stops to listen, "But the stores need replenishment and the last hunt was beneath what everyone expected."

A sudden mewl is heard from without, one familiar to both: that of an animal in the throes of pain.

"Oh no..." Andreth murmurs as they follow the direction of one such trap Bregor had set.

When they reach the source of the sound, Andreth gasps.

“Andreth, near it not!” cries Bregor, extending an arm whilst reaching for his sword.

"Peace, Bregor," she raises a hand, placing her basket down. She is unable to look away from the sight: a dire wolf, its hind leg bloodied and gnawed by the crude metal contraption. And the pain in its howling breaks her heart.

Its fur is thick and shining silver, its eyes a stunning shade Andreth had never seen before: then again, she'd never seen a wolf at all, not this close.

"One of our rogue hunters?" Bregor slowly and carefully drops to one knee.

Andreth groans. “Bregor don't be ridiculous. Even so, it’s hurt! We... I cannot just leave it here... and these are our traps.”

The wolf falls silent, its fur matted with blood where its hind leg is caught in the trap, wide eyes glistening wetly as it watches them. It seems to Andreth the animal has a near human gaze. Pity wells in her heart, urging her to speak, to act.

Willowy as she is, she nears the dire wolf with care. “I will not hurt you... we are here to help.”

Agitation stirs within the beast, strong teeth and jaws snapping once in the air before its head falls aside, and another cry of pain softens even Bregor’s expression. “Let me, sister.”

Andreth does, glad for her brother—Bregor has more experience with the wilds and its inhabitants, and she is wise enough to see when she needs aid.

The animal is faint, and with care her brother succeeds in dismantling the trap, while Andreth fashions a carrier of sorts from Bregor's cloak. She's recently learned how to tie the knots properly, and already the skill is of use.

"How strange, going out to check for predators, but then returning home with one."

"I can treat wounds, but not here," Andreth grunts as each holds a side of the makeshift stretcher. Her brother may be stubborn, but so is she. Luckily, they're often of like mind, by the end. "I need my supplies."

Bregor sighs. "Your heart is kind, Andreth. I only hope it never leads you astray."

Andreth rolls her eyes, advancing with renewed vigor.

As the pair walk the return path towards the settlement, none notice the many pairs of curious eyes following their trek from the shadows.

#ruiniel:fanfiction #andreth #bregor #silmarillion fanfiction #scribbles & drabbles 2023

[elizaviento]

Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine (Part 9 of ?)

(Stardew Valley — Shane/Female Farmer/OC)

This chapter is rated NSFW — 6676 words. Blow job, face fucking, vaginal sex, and a disgusting dose of feely feels.

Note: Whew, another long boy chapter. This one beats the last by over 1500 words and that's after I cut out a lot of the fat while editing. Anyway, here be more smut that's sappier than molasses. I really hope it's worth it!

(FYI: Additional chapters of Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine can be found in the Stardew Valley Fic Masterpost link in my blog description.  Or, you can click the #green on the vine strawberry wine tag in this post, within my blog, to access all additional chapters.)

*****

Kristen awoke with a start, acutely aware that she wasn't in her uncomfortable bed nor the farmhouse, and the weight settled across her chest wasn't her cat, Moody. Disorientation rendered her useless for approximately half a second before the events of the following night flashed behind her lids, a menagerie of mental photographs featuring Shane's head buried between her thighs. Slick black hair and piercing green eyes staring up at her as if she were the center of the universe. Then, the sensations — his soft, warm tongue lavishing as if he were a starving man and her pussy was his only sustenance.

He'd been outstanding. Not that Kristen thought he wouldn't have been, but the way he worked her over with his tongue and fingers had her wailing in ways she hadn't for literal years. Nothing her imagination had conjured up thus far had come close, even in her wildest fantasies of hate screwing the man who told her to fuck off on a regular basis in the early days.

Shifting slightly, she opened her eyes and rolled her head to the side. Splinters of sunlight pierced the cracks in the curtains, splashing slices of gold across the hardwood. Shane was beside her, lying face down with one arm slung across her chest. His nose and mouth seemed mashed directly into the pillow, and she wondered how he could breathe.

You're still naked. And he's not…

Kristen hazily recalled Shane stripping down to his boxer briefs and a plain white t-shirt before he rolled her like a ball of dough toward the wall. Exhaustion had settled over her so heavily that she couldn't keep her eyes open, even as he crawled in beside her, and she nestled herself under his arm like a baby bird seeking shelter under its mother's wing in a storm.

Things had felt so comfortable then. She'd held no reservations about their conversations or the fun they'd had afterward when she'd drifted off into a dreamless, almost coma-like sleep. But now, the clarity that comes with a morning sunrise was plucking at her brain, digging its talons into the soft meat, making her wonder if she'd finally pressured the man beside her into relenting after two long years of wearing him down like metal to a grindstone.

Was he really as enthusiastic as you remember, or are you trying to compensate for dumping all your emotional baggage on him while he was under the influence?

Kristen scrubbed at her eyes with her good hand, the throbbing in her injured hand becoming harder and harder to ignore. In the throes of passion, a heady dose of endorphins had erased any remnants of pain. But that had worn off long ago, and she hated herself for not carrying the painkillers with her.

With a muted sigh, the farmer wiggled from under her companion's arm and slipped from the foot of the bed. Her clothes littered the small room — jeans in a pile on the floor next to the closet, tank top spilling from the nightstand, bra draped over the old game console on the floor in front of the box television. She picked up each article one by one until she was forced to drop on her hands and knees and check under the bed for her missing panties.

"Hey," a throaty voice greeted her from above. Her head jerked up and smashed against the metal frame with an audible crack. "Shit, are you okay?"

The shift in his tone from sleep-addled to horrified was so quick that Kristen giggled nervously in response, slipping from under the bed with the bundle of clothes clutched to her bare chest. Shane's face hovered over the lip of the mattress, eyes wide.

"Uh, where's my underwear?" she asked, heat already prickling her cheeks. She cupped the back of her skull gingerly, a lump already forming. 

"In the corner, I think."

He pointed toward a darkly obscured nook behind his bedroom door. Kristen could just make out the purple hue of the fabric as she awkwardly stood and shuffled to retrieve them. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Shane had rolled over so that he was lying flat on his back, eyes glued to the ceiling. He was obviously trying to give her a semblance of privacy so that she could get dressed without feeling gawked at, which she appreciated.

"So. Last night —" she began once she was fully dressed, smoothing her hands over her chaotic curls in an attempt to tame them.

"Last night," he repeated as if in agreement. He sat upright, swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, head hung low, and scrubbed a hand across his neck. Kristen felt he was still avoiding looking at her, creating a pocket of tension between them. The last thing she wanted was for her to leave this bedroom with even a smidge of uncertainty clouding the intimate moment they'd shared.

The faint sound of footsteps somewhere else in the ranch caused Shane to physically tense, and Kristen sucked in an anxious breath. She'd checked the time while gathering her clothes and was shocked they'd slept uninterrupted until mid-morning. The thought of Marnie or even Jas bursting through the door unannounced caused her stomach to roll, and she moved to sit next to Shane on the mattress.

"Don't worry; the door's locked. But she might knock soon."

"I'm not worried," Kristen lied. Several inches separated them, and she had the urge to close the gap and wrap her entire body around his like a needy koala. "Any regrets?"

He looked at her then, his expression open but also a bit perplexed. "Why would I have regrets?"

His answering question was so sincere that an immediate sting assaulted the farmer's sinuses and the back of her eyeballs; a sob lodged in her chest so deep that she sucked in a ragged breath to shove it back down to the debts of her soul. Without further debate, she did close the gap until their thighs touched, and she hooked her arm through his, seeking his hand and threading their fingers together as if they were made of the same cloth.

"You were amazing," she breathed, pressing her lips to the shell of his ear. The boldness that had overcome her the previous night had returned with renewed vigor, and she harnessed it like a wild mare. "I haven't had an orgasm that intense in… fuck, I don't remember."

Her intention was to stroke his ego. Make him believe she was enamored and not about to disappear in a puff of smoke after obtaining her prize. But her words were also as honest as anything she'd ever spoken in her life.

"Kriss." His voice was strained, and his grip on her hand tightened. "Please don't get me hard while my goddaughter is probably eating breakfast in the kitchen."

"Sorry," she snickered before capturing his earlobe between her teeth. He groaned, and she smiled wolfishly against his flesh, a sensual sense of pride lapping over her like warm ocean waves in the midst of a summer storm. "I owe you, though. Can you come over later?"

He forcefully exhaled through his nose and placed his free hand on her thigh. Several more footsteps could be heard, closer now, pattering on the hardwood. It occurred to Kristen then that there was no way she could escape the ranch without being noticed.

"Yeah," he finally replied. "I'll stop by Joja, too, to get… um."

"Condoms? I can't wait." She pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek, rubbing her lips across it lightly. Again, she wondered where this brazen confidence was coming from and decided to ruminate on it during her walk home. Right now, she'd rather drop dead than ruin the mood. "I'm dying to feel you inside me."

"I hate you," he groaned, wiggling away from her to stand and stiffly pace the floor of his room. Kristen's eyes immediately homed in on the tent in his boxer briefs and struggled with the urge to rip them down and swallow him whole right then and there.

"I know." She stood, stepped toward him, and wrapped him in her arms. And for the first time, he hugged her back. Despite everything that had transpired between them the night before, she considered this her most triumphant victory. "I'll face the firing squad on my own. Just stay here until I'm gone."

Catching her drift, Shane sat back down on his bed and scratched at his scalp while the farmer took a deep breath, unlocked the bedroom, and tip-toed down the hallway.

"But Aunt Marnie! If we get another kitty, that'll make 4, and that's an even number!"

The little girl's pleading cut through the shuffling of plates and silverware as the farmer attempted to sneak past the open kitchen.

"Let me guess, Miss Penny is teaching you and Vincent about evens and odds?" Marnie asked, her back now turned from the foyer separating the kitchen from the shop counter as she dug around in the open refrigerator. The farmer eyed the front door as if she could bore a hole in it with her glare, wondering if she could somehow phase through existence long enough for her to reemerge on the other side.

"Yeah! And she said — oh, hello, Miss Krissy! What are you doing here? Do you wanna eat pancakes with me?"

The farmer stopped mid-stride, like a statue frozen in time. Jas sat at the kitchen table, her large eyes wide with excitement, while Marnie swiftly turned from the fridge and dropped the carton of orange juice she'd been pulling from the shelf. Of course, it exploded in a lake of sticky liquid across the tile.

"Krissy! You scared the life out of me!" Marnie exclaimed as she frantically pulled a towel from the oven handle and dropped it on the mess at her feet. "I didn't even hear you come in!"

"She was walking down the hallway," Jas cut in, raising one sassy little finger to punctuate her fact.

Marnie had stooped to sop up the ruined juice but snapped her head upward and locked her eyes with the farmer, realization dawning on the woman's face faster than Kristen could scramble for an alternate explanation.

"Oh — oh! " she exclaimed, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Well, okay. We do have plenty if you're hungry, dear."

"Uh. No, I think I'm fine for now, thank you," Kristen replied. Marnie's eyes rolled toward the farmer's bandaged hand next, and Kristen could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"How's your hand? Shane was helping you take care of it, right? He did a good job with the bandage," Marnie said, nodding her head slowly as if to coax a specific response. Jas sat facing away from her, completely unaware of the silent exchange between the two grown women in the room.

"Yes!" Kristen practically yelled, clutching the lifesaver Marnie had tossed. "He took very good care of me."

"That's wonderful," Marnie replied. She'd finished cleaning up the spilled juice and resumed preparing a plate of pancakes for Jas, seemingly unphased by Kristen's tangible humiliation.

"Uncle Shane can be really nice when he wants to be," Jas interjected. She glanced back at Marnie just in time for the woman to place her breakfast in front of her on the table, a sweet smile adorning her pretty face. "But only to people he likes."

Kristen shook her head in agreement, suddenly dumbstruck by how effortless it had been for Marnie to swoop in and salvage a catastrophically awkward situation. She promised to thank the woman privately if she ever gathered the nerve.

"Have a good day, dear. Don't be a stranger," Marnie said with a subtle wink as the farmer pulled open the front door, delivering a parting wave to Jas while the little girl enthusiastically stuffed her face.

❦❧🍓❦❧

The walk back home was spent with the farmer ruminating on her behavior the following night. She'd practically thrown herself at Shane again , acting like a bitch in heat. She never considered herself sexually repressed. She had no issues expressing what she wanted or what she liked. But something about last night made her hyper-sexual in a way she'd never experienced.

Maybe it's because you haven't been laid in over two years , she thought as she crossed the property line to Wynand Farm. That was definitely a contributing factor. She'd been touch starved, lonely, actually miserable. The friendships she had cultivated around Pelican Town helped soothe her need for affection during the day, but at night, when she was alone with nothing but her thoughts, the overwhelming loneliness felt like a bolder crushing her ribs, snapping them to shards lodged into her aching heart.

God, you're so dramatic , she chided herself as the coop loomed into view. It was already nearing noon, and the hens were probably restless and hungry. But her thoughts settled heavily on Shane's reactions to her advances. He'd been eager. He'd confessed things she never thought would come out of his mouth in a million years. He'd eaten her pussy like a fucking champ and didn't ask for reciprocation. He'd been content with bringing her to tears and then cuddling with her in bed. Was he actually the perfect man?

The farmer chuckled to herself as she entered the enclosure and pulled the coop door open. A line of fat impatient hens waddled out and made a beeline for the fresh grass, ignoring her completely.

Shane was anything but perfect, and Kristen was well aware of this. But it wasn't an illusion she wished to spend her time with. It wasn't a fairytale prince who she found herself teasing once he could stomach her presence for more than a few minutes at a time. It wasn't Mr. Darcy who she thought about when her fingers slipped through her slick folds, seeking to quell that ache deep inside. It was Shane. Rough and gruff Shane who secretly had the biggest heart of anyone she'd ever known. Her best friend.

Fetching her chicken-printed egg apron from a nail inside the coop, the farmer tied it around her waist, plucked the spoils of her livestock from their nests, and gently tucked them into each pocket. Briefly, she imagined Shane in the silly apron and giggled, vowing to make him wear it one way or another.

The farmer busied herself with various chores until early evening, more than slightly irritated that it took double the effort due to her inconvenient injury. Pierre had agreed to come pick up her tomatoes, and she winced when she signed the bill of sale with a 20% service fee deducted by the shopkeep. When she finally checked her cell phone for the time, a text from Shane lit up the screen, and she tapped the notification with butterflies in her tummy.

I'm never buying condoms in this town again.

I'll take a bus all the way to Zuzu next time, fuck all of this.

Kristen snickered, curiosity piqued.

Oh no. What happened?

The replying chat bubble popped up almost immediately, and Kristen's eyes were glued to the screen, even as Moody zig-zagged through her legs, howling for attention.

Sam was working today and saw me pick them up.

He kept asking me who the lucky lady is. Like I was gonna tell him.

The farmer could practically feel Shane's unease through the screen, and a prickling intrusive thought burrowed in her brain like the needles of a cactus. Testing the waters, she tapped her fingers across the glass.

What, you're ashamed of me? Lol.

Her heart galloped as she waited for his reply. The chat bubble took a bit longer to appear, and Kristen hoped she hadn't actually pissed him off.

Don't be stupid.

I'm just tired from spending most of the morning dodging Marnie's smug looks.

Jas thinks I'm practically a doctor now, so that's cool.

She furrowed her brow, still unsure if the distress churning in her belly was justified. Every drop of confidence she'd fettered that morning seemed to dissipate like mist desperately clinging to milkweed in the midday sun.

You sure?

This time, the chat bubble seemed to animate on the screen forever, disappearing and reappearing multiple times as if Shane was struggling to come up with an adequate response.

If anyone should be ashamed, it's you.

I somehow landed the beautiful farmer, and she's stuck with the town drunk.

For the second time that day, Kristen choked back a sob. A mixture of indignation and sorrow coated the back of her throat, constricted with emotion. His self-deprecation was nothing new, but in this context, it hit differently than usual. Implying he wasn't good enough for her was simply unacceptable.

Now you're the one being stupid.

Just shut up and get here quick. I miss you.

Before she could chicken out, Kristen skipped toward her bedroom, stripped off her frumpy farmer's clothes, and wiggled into the sexiest pair of lingerie she owned. Then, she angled her phone's camera as flatteringly as possible, snapped a photo, and attached it to her message.

You called me a tease last night and then send me this shit?

Smirking, she posed for another photo, this time biting her lip seductively. She felt ridiculous attaching it to her next reply — but also sexy for the first time in years.

What are you going to do about it?

Shane replied with a photo of his own — a skewed angle of his feet as he neared the path toward the bus station.

You'll find out soon.

An exhilarating tingle bloomed between her legs, arousal simmering her blood. She had maybe 25 minutes before Shane walked through her front door, and she desperately needed a bath.

❦❧🍓❦❧

Kristen had just finished brushing out her damp curls and clumsily tying the belt of her silk robe around her waist when a soft but insistent knock startled her. Once again, she opened her mouth to remind him of his key, but the sound of the lock disengaging cut her off, a new swarm of butterflies taking flight in the pit of her stomach.

Shane entered the farmhouse hesitantly, peering around the door as he did the night before at the ranch, his expression softening when he spotted her approaching from the bedroom.

"Hey," he greeted, slinging her forgotten backpack from his shoulder while he approached. His eyes roved her body, taking stock of her state of dress — or, rather, undress — before they settled on her freshly bandaged hand. "How's it doing?"

"It looks disgusting," she laughed, holding the mitt in front of her face. She'd done a sloppy job of wrapping the gauze that Harvey had left for her. The crusty sutures and black bruises splotching her palm made her woozy, but she was proud that she hadn't dropped like a sack of potatoes on her bathroom floor.

"How many times do I have to tell you to let me help you before you listen?" he asked, though his tone held no hostility or exasperation. On the contrary, Kristen could detect a note of concern, and she wanted to nip it in the bud before the salacious encounter she'd been so excited about fizzled out altogether.

"Shh, I'm fine. I promise. I cleaned it and took my pain meds. And I'll be seeing Harvey on Monday." He gave her a leery glare, obviously still unconvinced she'd relent her stubbornness anytime soon. "Come here," she coaxed, holding her good hand toward him invitingly and crooking one finger. With her backpack still dangling from one hand, Shane approached and followed when she turned and walked back toward her bedroom.

The room was dark, the only light coming from a few candles flickering on Kristen's dresser opposite the bed. She'd wondered if the sentiment was too cheesy when she lit the wicks and stepped back to admire the shadow of flames licking up the pine slat walls, but the low light cast the perfect ambiance when Shane entered, his silhouette pitch black as it floated toward her.

"This is nice," he said, voice deep as his features slowly bled into focus when he entered the sphere of flickering light. Kristen felt he wasn't sure what to say but was trying his best, and she adored him for it. 

"Thanks," she whispered, capturing one of his forearms to pull him closer. He was still clutching her backpack in one hand, and she tilted her head toward it before asking, "What's in there? Whips and chains?"

Shane balked, jaw slack and eyes wide before he noticed the mischief dancing in her eyes. "You're so fucking naughty…"

He dropped the backpack on the floor and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her in. The farmer stepped into his embrace willingly, seeking his lips with her own, molding her body around his solid yet soft form until she felt she could seep into his skin and possess him completely.

Something about the moment seemed graceful as they moved together. Lips exploring, hands searching, bodies swaying. The night previous, Kristen felt as if she were a feral animal, pawing and scratching at him like he might escape her clutches. Tonight, she felt as if the barbaric frenzy had ebbed to gentle acceptance that this man actually wanted to be here... with her.

"Shane," she sighed as his lips and tongue traveled from her mouth, down her throat, and across her collarbone. She could tell he was being careful not to scrape his stubble over her skin, even while his cheek and chin nudged the top half of her robe aside. "Shane, stop."

"Hmm? What's wrong?" he asked, pulling back to level her with serious eyes. She almost yanked him in for another kiss when she realized he was afraid he'd crossed some invisible line.

"Nothing, baby. I just want to repay you for last night before you make me too stupid."

"Kriss. Um, Kristen — you don't have to do that."

Relief softened his features as he held her closer and kissed her breathless — palms gliding across the silk of her robe, caressing every curve she hid underneath until one settled on the small of her back and the other ghosted between her thighs. The smooth fabric slipping across her sensitive flesh was unexpectedly delightful, and she shuffled her feet outward, supplying him with more room that he gladly took advantage of, prodding his fingers past the silk to make contact with her bare sex.

"How are you already wet?" Shane moaned against her lips. The farmer's breaths quickened as his middle finger probed, sliding through her folds with no resistance.

"Because you turn me on," she simply said, canting her hips forward as his thumb sought her clit.

"I wanna taste you again, pretty baby. Make you come on my tongue."

She nearly gave in, memories of last night along with Shane's sweet manipulation of her pussy making her pliant. She felt as if she could melt through his arms into a puddle just from his worlds alone, but she abruptly remembered her earlier request and how he had expertly distracted her.

"Nope," she breathed, playfully shoving him back. He stumbled slightly, giving her time to sidestep him, plant her ass on the mattress, hook a finger through a belt loop on his shorts, and tug his crotch toward her face. "I told you, it's my turn."

"Kristen." He shook his head. He was protesting, and it confounded her.

"What?" she asked, moving her hand to rest on his hip instead, hoping it would make her seem less brazen.

"I know it's not something women really like to do," he explained. His eyes were fixed straight ahead as if something on her wall was unbelievably fascinating.

"Since when?" she asked with a chuckle. But she quickly shut up when she realized he was serious. "Shane, that's not true. I don't know what type of other women you've been with, but most of us love giving head. I know I do." She then grasped one of his hands, bringing it toward her face to press a tender kiss to his palm, hoping to calm his nerves. "When was the last time someone swallowed your cock like they meant it?"

"Kristen, fuck me…" He finally tilted his chin down to look at her, awe sparkling in his green eyes.

"That's what I'm trying to do."

"You have such a filthy mouth," he said, blinking his eyes rapidly as if he were trying to gather his bearings to answer her question. "I don't know; it's been a long time."

"Then let my filthy mouth take care of you, hmm? I want to, I really do."

She flipped his hand to place another kiss on his knuckles, swiping her lips across them before taking the middle finger he'd buried in her pussy into her mouth, lightly sucking it while making direct eye contact. 

"Are you even fucking real?" he asked as she swirled her tongue around his wet digit. "Last week, I would have laughed if you said you wanted to suck my dick. Would've thought you were screwing with me for fun."

Feeling like he was finally coming around, Kristen released his finger with an audible pop and redirected her hand toward the waistband of his shorts, tugging him toward her again. This time, he shuffled forward with no protest, one hand settling on her shoulder while the one she'd just released curled into a fist.

Instead of replying verbally, she tapped the button of his shorts with her fingernail, indicating that she needed some help. Shane hesitated for an instant but quickly undid his fly and pulled the zipper down, exposing his boxer briefs beneath. Giddy excitement hummed within Kristen's chest as her imagination tried to conjure up an image of his cock before she laid eyes on it. The teasing glimpses she was afforded of his clothed bulge and the sensation of it grinding between her legs the night before gave her a pleasing theory.

"Can we take this off?" she cooed, tugging the hem of his shirt. Insecurity danced behind his eyes, his face scrunching up in a way that made her think he'd downright refuse. But, she smoothed her hand up his side, lightly grazing her nails over his skin before drawing it back down, hoping her silent encouragement would stay his fears.

"I'm not in, uh, the best shape," he mumbled, again avoiding her eyes.

"Shane, I think you're so god damn sexy. Isn't it obvious?"

She lifted the bottom of his shirt just enough to kiss the space below his navel. He flinched but didn't pull away.

"I've seen you naked," he said, capturing a strand of her curly hair between two fingers. "You put me to shame."

"It's not a competition, baby. Will it make you feel better if I take this off?"

She rose from the bed and shrugged the loose robe from her shoulders, allowing it to puddle at her feet. Shane hitched a breath and attempted to pull her in, but she playfully wiggled away and perched herself on the edge of the mattress again, smiling up at him.

"Fine," he sighed, fisting the collar of his shirt and yanking it over his head. His neck and cheeks burned red, even in the soft candlelight, and it only endeared him to her all the more.

"Thank you. Now, I can take care of the rest…"

As it turned out, attempting to pull down someone else's shorts and underwear with one hand was more complicated than she bargained, but she yanked and tugged until she secured her victory — Shane's fully erect cock finally springing free, greeting her like a long-awaited gift.

Kristen wondered later if he thought she would be coy — place feather-soft kisses on his shaft while batting her eyelashes and cooing like a bird. She even wondered if she should have been so dainty and seductive instead of licking a solid, hot stripe from base to tip before engulfing his thick length in one fluid motion.

"Fu — fuck ." The stuttered word fell from Shane's mouth in a strangled gasp, his hands instantly burying in her curls as if he had to clutch them or risk flying off the face of the earth. His fingers brushed her scalp tentatively, undoubtedly hesitant to grip too hard for fear of hurting her. "Kristen, ah! Christ!"

The farmer continued to slide her wet mouth across his cock, tongue flat as she gently pulled back his foreskin and swirled the tip. It had been so long since she'd indulged in giving head and nearly forgot how much she enjoyed it. The pants, the moans, the feeling of power as she subdued a man while on her knees.

"How's this?" she asked as sweetly as she could muster, flicking her chocolate eyes upward to lock with his. "Tell me how to make you feel good."

Relaxing her throat, she took him entirely in her mouth again, bit by bit, until the plush head pressed and slid even farther. And then farther. Fat tears welled in her eyes, pooling like droplets of dew on drooping blades of grass before rolling down her cheeks. The strain was magnificent, and the farmer knew she'd feel the raw sting like a badge of honor in the morning.

"Oh my fuck," he growled, fingers pressing a bit harder against her scalp experimentally. "Pretty baby, I —" He faltered, seeming to attempt to form a coherent thought while Kristen swallowed his dick, flexing her throat muscles weakly. "Can I?"

He pulled his hips back and then thrust them forward gently, eyes pleading with her to understand. She hooked her good hand behind one of his thighs, sucked in a deep breath through her nose in preparation, and nodded.

Shane started slow at first, shifting his hips gingerly, nudging the back of her throat while his fingers curled around the strands of her auburn hair. A string of praise and obscenities poured from his mouth like a siren song, and she hummed deep in her chest as he gradually picked up speed, chasing his pleasure.

Without warning, he tightened his hold on her hair, halting the motion of her mouth and his hips. Guttural pants filled the room as she looked up at him, lips stretched across his dick while her hand traveled to cup his balls, nails lightly scraping across the dimpled flesh.

"I need to fuck you," he rasped, pulling her head back until he slipped from her mouth, a string of saliva connecting them for a beat before it plopped to the hardwood below. "Please."

Kristen scrambled back to lay on the mattress like an overzealous puppy, waiting for him to follow with exuberance sparkling in her eyes. She honestly couldn't recall the last time she'd wanted anyone this bad, and her cunt throbbed in anticipation of being filled by the cock she'd just had shoved down her eager throat.

"How do you want me?" she asked, positioning herself in the middle, legs splayed open in an unconscious attempt to draw him in. A savage longing nearly puppeted her to crawl up his body like a deranged creature from the depths of hell, subdue him until he fell to the floor, and ride his cock until the both of them succumbed to exhaustion. But the more civilized part of her realized that Shane required gentle coaxing, at least for now, so she leveraged those unhinged desires and locked them away for another time.

There was a slight shuffle as Shane bent over and unzipped the farmer's backpack that lay discarded on the floor. The crinkle of a plastic bag, the rip of cardboard, and the tear of an aluminum wrapper clued Kristen in. In response, her fingers flowed toward the apex of her thighs, slipping one finger inside herself, then two.

Finally, Shane planted a knee on the mattress and crawled toward her. Backlit by flickering flames, one hand cupped her knee while the other rolled the condom on, his cock emerging from between his thumb and forefinger with latex encasing it like he'd performed the maneuver a million times before. Kristen tried not to let that little worm burrow in her brain, wondering if he was so practiced because he was screwing someone else on the side. 

On the side? You've already claimed him? 

She flung that thought into the 'analyze later' bin of her brain, fearing that the answer was a resounding yes.

"Um. Just —" Shane tenderly nudged her knee to the side, and she complied, widening her legs so he could slot between them like a puzzle piece. "I wanna be able to see your face."

"Oh, baby," she sighed, finally relenting to the urge to rein in some control, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him in for another blistering kiss. Their tongues rolled together effortlessly now, growing used to one another's moves while Shane nudged the head of his cock between her folds, gliding it across her clit teasingly, winding Kristen up like a doll with a key lodged in its spine until she felt she would snap.

When he finally lined up and began pushing inside, Kristen yelped against his lips, the stretch sharp and intense. Shane instantly ceased, pressing his forehead against hers as he caught his breath.

"Don't stop," she said. Wiggling her hips slightly, she lifted her legs and mounted them on either side of his thighs. The position was more comfortable and made her feel he wouldn't split her in half. "It's been… a while since I've done this. That's all."

He nodded, eyes squinted shut, engrossed with the task at hand. Kristen stared at him, his face blurred by the close proximity, but unable to direct her focus elsewhere. The intimacy of the moment felt soul-crushing in the best way — as if everything that made her human were wrapped up in a tiny package and placed in the palm of Shane's hand. He could pulverize her or hold her as gently as a kitten, and she'd welcome it either way.

Inch by inch, Shane slid into her, gauging her reactions carefully as he did so. Inch by inch, Kristen took him, quick and shallow breaths making her head swimmy as the sweet intrusion filled her much more than physically.

His thrusts were experimental early on, just as when his fingers played along her scalp. Slow and shallow. He pressed tender kisses to her face as he did so, soft breaths puffing from his nose and fanning across heated skin. Eventually, he sought her hand with his own, pinning it above her head as he interlaced their fingers, lips traveling lower, suckling on the hypersensitive flesh behind her ear.

"Shane —" His name rolled from her tongue like it had originated there, a vaguely audible sigh that morphed into a moan when she understood that this wasn't a simple fuck between friends. He was making love to her.

"Kristen…" Her name growled directly into her ear, causing her body to seize, cunt clenching around him almost painfully as he snapped his hips forward in punctuation. 

"Harder," she whined, shifting her hips in time with his still-measured thrusts.

"Yeah? You want that?"

His voice was deeper than she'd ever heard, almost scratchy. She shivered and whined again, feeling petulant if he didn't appease her. Luckily, he did, releasing her hand so he could sit back on his haunches and hike each of her thighs to rest on his chest, the back of her knees nestled against his shoulders like they were always meant to be there. The angle was acute and perfect as he leaned over her, hands bracing himself on either side of her head.

"Shit," she hissed, flailing her free hand until it made purchase with his side, nails digging crescents into his olive skin. 

"This good?" he asked, thrusting once, slightly upward. Kristen squealed and nodded, nails digging deeper. The head of his cock brushed against her g-spot just enough at this angle that she knew they could make magic happen if he were determined. "Let me know if it's too much?"

"It's never too much," she said. "Fuck me the way you've always dreamed." Kristen knew that statement was a bold assumption on her part, but god, did it sound sexy. Even to her own ears.

Apparently, it was sexy to him, too, considering how he kissed her, pushing her legs back farther and shoving his cock even deeper. "Pretty baby, I'm gonna make you scream."

His confidence firmly back in place, Kristen's eyes rolled nearly into the back of her skull as he pounded into her. Hard, just like she'd asked. Again and again and again. The bed rocked, headboard slamming the wall. The metal frame squeaked in protest as its legs skittered across the hardwood floor. Kristen's body tensed, launching into pure instinct, hips rolling in time with Shane's thrusts, each one more brutal than the last. Pleasure washed over in waves, lapping farther and farther toward the precipice of something just beyond reach as their shared grunts and moans filled the small farmhouse bedroom like a lewd chorus for an audience of two.

"Shane, baby. Oh god!" The farmer's mental facilities had been scrambled like a freshly cracked egg each time the head of Shane's cock brushed the soft, thick place inside her. It was so deliciously close to being enough but just far away that each pass had her crying out like a woman tortured. "I need… mo — higher!"

She wasn't sure how Shane interpreted the gibberish she'd just spewed, but she nearly cried in relief when he snatched a spare pillow from beside her head and shoved it under her lifted hips. But then he added another , and she lost the battle, a desperate sob escaping from her chest as the elevated angle allowed him to slam home with expert precision.

"I can feel you squeezing me, fuck!" he spat, keeping the rhythm even as Kristen's bones liquified. "Can you come on my cock, pretty baby? Rub your clit for me. I wanna feel it."

As useless as she felt to her encroaching orgasm, the farmer willed her arm to slither between them, seeking the neglected, engorged bundle of nerves. The pressure between her legs continued to mount, coiling like a viper on the verge of a strike. Her thighs quivered as the pads of her fingers slipped through her folds and made contact with her clit, the onslaught of sensations boarding on overwhelming when Shane faltered long enough to capture one of her nipples between his teeth.

"I'm close. Shane — I'm so close," she cried, sloppily twirling her fingers around her clit. Sparks of pleasure snapped and popped with each pass, her limbs tensing further and the viper coiling tighter in her belly. "Talk to me. I need to hear your voice."

"I'm close, too," he rasped. "Look me in the eyes when you come, pretty baby. Say my name? God, I love hearing you moan it like — shit! — I love making you feel this good."

Kristen felt as if she were falling in a dream, weightless for the blink of an eye before the ground zoomed closer with each passing second. And right before she hit the ground, she snapped, the viper unfurling as its euphoric venom softened her muscles and rendered her useless. Yet, she fulfilled his sweet request, the shape of Shane's name tearing from her throat as her entire world focused to a pinpoint and then exploded outward in a shower of twinkling stars.

Somewhere in the haze, her name floated like a feather on a languid breeze. Lips and teeth etched her flesh like liquid flames carving an errant river through steel. The gorgeous pressure between her thighs swelled, stretching her pleasure to an unbearable degree, and she cried out again, clinging to the only anchor she could find amidst the storm.

You've already claimed him? 

Yes — she had.

*****

End Note: Kristen's chicken egg apron:

Isn't that shit adorable?

#stardew valley #stardew valley shane #sdv shane #shane x farmer #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew valley smut #stardew valley shane smut #sdv shane smut #green on the vine strawberry wine

[russilton]

WIP Snippet Game

@milflewis bless u Niamh for the tag. I think I’ve shared some of this before but its the best part of the wip I’ve been working on soooo…

Tagging: @ilikecarsandlike4people @formationlaps @ashes0909 @s-hylor @ininininininstayoutstayout and anyone else who writes or draws (or edits or gif’s- anyone!) and wants to!

———

Lewis can’t stop himself, he leans forward and flicks the hat off George’s head, vibrant bright blue to match his helmet tumbling to the floor.

Lewis remembers suggesting the new colour idea himself. Now it makes his core burn with a sick acidic feeling at the irony. George jerks, his whole upper body freezing and then jumping as Lewis sways close to him only to attempt to channel his conflicting sour emotions into something provoking.

He knows what his part of his mind is clamouring for but Lewis can’t be the one to give in, too keyed up to allow himself to seek remedy in the source of his agitation. He needs George to be angry at him too, to make it fair, to dampen the guilt that clings to his annoyance like tar.

It works at least in part as George scrambles out of his seat, a flurry of reactive energy, staring at him in shock that melts into something incredulous and finally, angry.

“Blimey, what is your problem?” The taller man eventually splutters out. Lewis tries not to feel the betrayal in his tone like a blade.

“I don’t have a problem” he deflects, ready to be away from the other man now he finally has a reaction, part of him hoping George will just storm out of his room and leave Lewis to his moping. He doesn’t address the question in the back of his own mind. Why are you so intent on pushing him away?

“That’s not how people who don’t have problems respond” George grits out, and Lewis can’t hold back a sardonic snort. George has him there.

“What do you want, Russell”

“Really? Russell? One shitty weekend and you can’t even say my name? What the hell, Lewis” His voice is starting to pitch in volume, strained and matching his frustration. It’s a wonder none of the team has overheard and tried to get between them.

“George-“

“No, seriously Lewis, what the fuck is wrong with you” the curse sounds foriegn on George’s lips, and there’s a red flush spreading splotchily across his irate face, colouring high in his cheeks as he stares at Lewis with eyebrows furrowed, eyes clear and peircing. In his anger he looks like something from a painting. A soldier in the throes of battle.

He’s enthralling.

#tag games #mark’s wips #gewis #thank u Niamh #also if you read this- hi! #tagged in #they screw after this and it doesn’t solve Lewis’ problems

[menagerie-of-monsters]

Find the Word Game

Picked up an open tag from @cljordan-imperium

Tags for, hmm... @k--havok, @dogmomwrites, @nothwell, @leave-her-a-tome, @calicojackofficial, @space-cadead

Your words are: silent, star, stop, scar, surround

My words are: temper, magical, equal, brush, and leg

Temper

From Captured by the Fae Beast, which is cheating since it's published, but I love this passage too much to resist.

He opened his eyes again, looking at me with tension and unhappiness. "You may hear things—" "If anyone fucking dares to repeat anything they heard, I will punch them in their stupid fucking faces," I snarled back, cutting him off and unable to contain the white-hot rage in the face of that shame and devastation in Dain's expression. The force of that anger made it a little easier to comprehend why Dain had so brutally taken revenge on the two archers sent to kill us. If King Omahice had walked into the room at that moment, I would have been sorely tempted to go at him with one of Dain's many swords. He jerked back slightly, his eyes going wet and gleaming. "You… don't want to know?" he asked, his voice shaky. "Not like that." I tried to get my temper back under control, though I kept seething. "I want nothing from you that you don't want to give. If those Court of Mercy motherfuckers try, they will find out exactly how much of a match I am for the Beast of fucking Phazikai."

Magical

This one's from The Gardener and the Water-horse, which is in the last throes of editing :>

"'Flirt'?" he asked, as if he'd never heard the word before. Well, maybe he hadn't. He was a big damn lake in the middle of nowhere, and people probably didn't come and… talk to him. Maybe the sorcerers did, or worked with him, but Barixeor was abyssal, and that sat in direct opposition to water. And ordinary people like me mostly kept out of the way of dangerous magical creatures when we could. Like I'd be keeping away from this one, if he wasn't blocking access to my broken water pump with his naked body. "Um, you know, the sort of back-and-forth thing we're doing? With all the arch smiles on your part and mild exasperation on mine?" The water-horse looked puzzled, and I shook my head. "Human thing," I said, even though that wasn't at all true. Pretty much everyone flirted, if they were interested in such things. "It's a type of light banter that people do when they find each other attractive, I guess?"

Equal

A fun snippet from The Serpent's Bride, which I'm still dabbling at while I work on the Echoes of the Void and Monsters of Faery series.

Conflicting desires flooded me, making me freeze in place. Part of me - the part that had woken up under the impression that I was in my bed at home with a nameless lover - quickened from the feel of a man fitting himself to my body with obvious desire. The rest of me violently alternated between shock at having Talazen up against me like this, scrambling panic from the reality of the fact that at some point I was going to have to fuck a snake, and a blank sort of incomprehension of what sort of physical reality I was currently experiencing. Talazen made another low sound that sent equal parts interest and horror though me like the flights of arrows. His tongue lazily flicked out, sweeping across the skin of my chest, and the taste of my body's tumult finally woke him. The serpent prince went completely, eerily still, with the same perfect motionlessness of a viper lying in wait for prey. My heart hammered against my chest, and I realized I was holding my breath. I let it out shakily, then took another breath and said, "Good morning, Talazen."

Brush

Eyy, next-in-line book! This is from In the Claws of the Raven Prince, which is the next up in Monsters of Faery, and due to come out April 2023~

"Who was that ass?" I said, voicing my ire at the situation. "You'd think people would know better than to bait a manticore." Ayre spread his wings, stretching them, then snapped them closed and shook himself. "He's the only child of my father's only sibling, and thus theoretically fifth in line for the Raven Throne, as I am theoretically fourth." "Only theoretically?" I asked, patting my chest to invite Ayre to come lie on me. He did with a sigh, draping his lanky body across mine and nuzzling up against my neck, his slim fingers tangling with my hair. "The Courts respect primogeniture mostly by accident," he said, his lips brushing against my neck with tantalizing warmth. "The heir to the Court is the closest blood relative to the Monarch, but that need not be a child. Even if you have children, the heir may be a sibling, or someone to whom you've given your blood in a ritual."

Leg

And for a glimpse into the future, this is from Beneath the Dragon's Wings, which is book 3 in Monsters of Faery and thus will enter the world sometime around October 2023. Varistan, the half-dragon in question, is the ass mentioned above xD

I'd imagined he would be strange to look at, but he was no stranger than any other fae--less strange, even, because I didn't expect him to be human at some deep, animalistic level. Sprawled across the couch, clad in black, he was simply a man, sulking and well on his way to being completely wasted. But he was also a monster. One enormous black wing stuck up along the back of the couch, with the other hanging off it; they curled up at the bottom like a relaxed bat's, but the talons and scales couldn't be anything but a dragon's. Two long fingers and a thumb rested at the wrists of his wings, black-skinned and tipped with claws. His long tail draped off of the couch and across the coffee table, the thick blades of his spade relaxed. His legs belonged to a dragon in their shape, though he could stand upright like a man, and those powerful, taloned feet could surely gut a man. His face was all fae, save for the two horns arching over his head. His arms were more bulky and his chest broader and deeper than most fae, though—Because he flies, I thought as I examined him. The ruby eyes and maroon hair against his black coloration and clothing made him look like a villain out of a picture book. If someone had asked me to come up with an evil half-dragon, I might very well have made someone who looked exactly like him.

#tag game #find the word game #fantasy romance #fae romance #monster romance #captured by the fae beast #in the claws of the raven prince #monsters of faery #the serpent's bride #the blue kingdom #the gardener and the water-horse #echoes of the void #beneath the dragon's wings #snipperdoodle

[rarepears]

Masterpost [July 2022 ideas 2/2]

July 2022

#made up fic title ask game

shen yuan and luo binghe are aizawa’s adoptive parents au

Tom Riddle's new aim is not to become lord voldemort but sung jinwoo's trophy husband au

pidw AU set in disney descendants' world

hiruzen and danzo get dumped into bnha after the kyuubi attack au

the au where meng yao is actually lao nie's bastard but no one questions meng yao's parentage until the sworn brotherhood ceremony

beru needs reading glasses au | the shadow summons become luxury brand models au

sung jinwoo the e ranked babysitter au - why be a hunter if you can be a babysitter? it's far safer

female wei wuxian uses her period blood (since it's just blood) to draw talisman but that provokes greater backlash au

married couple shen yuan and luo binghe get a vacation home in the imperial capital to get away from sect and demon politics au

the Jin Zixun x Jiang Yanli fic idea no one asked for au

sung jinwoo accidentally running into variety shows being filmed on the streets au

sung jinwoo being a dirty little gremlin and getting away with it thanks to his shadow monarch abilities au

12 year old tsuna thinks that his intuition is a sign of madness and decides to go full on clown insanity as a result au

in which Shen Yuan and og!shang qinghua have to share one body together because the system messed up shen yuan's transmigration au

thomas andre x sung jinwoo au

lan qiren x jin guanyao au where meng yao befriended lan xichen for the sole purpose of seducing lan qiren

sung jinwoo learns that there are many minor monarchs and rulers out in the world... au

svsss but as cowboys in the wild west edition au

groot gives birth to a baby groot au - nope this isn’t baby groot since this isn’t from a cutting, rather groot somehow has a seed pod that pops out a little tree??

in which commander fox accidentally goes viral and becomes a holonet star au

a snapshot into bnha future of deku the future no 1 hero au

groot is a jedi master (and rocket the raccoon is a force sensitive) au

ned stark walks into his father fucking tywin lannister au

nie mingjue x liu qingge au

aizen is a fuckboi who doesn't date shinigami to hide his sordid dating history au

Tsuna sawada runs into james bond while he’s in Italy AU

a brief bit of wei wuxian x aizawa that was never meant to be au

shen qingqiu gets the ranma 1/2 treatment au

ashborn (solo leveling) x aro (twilight) au

Without the gates and hunters occurring in solo leveling kingsman shit happens instead & Sung Jinwoo finds himself the unofficial king au

mdzs modern au where lan wangji is a rabbit photographer and wei wuxian is a farmer whose crops are being eaten by rabbits au

game of thrones football au

harry potter attends a vampire's wedding au

luo binghe and shen yuan in solo leveling au

cat shen qingqiu and hamster shang qinghua bros au

Nie Mingjue X Meng Yao - married AU

long before he learns that he's to become a mafia boss tsuna sawada gets despicable me minions & reborn now hates bananas au

shen yuan and the ice cream assassins au

telling the evolution of dabi x hawks through sex drugs and fried chicken au

in which endeavor accidentally burns his house down in the throes of passion and the kids are SCARRED au

in which L (death note) gets sebastian as his personal butler au

sung jinwoo doesn't have wifi au

YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO SEE CATS SITTING ON URAHARA'S HEAD

sung jinwoo and sung jinah go to a buffet au

sung jinwoo somehow ends up dating kim kardashian au

sung jinwoo x shouto todoroki au

fat gum offers mineta an internship and turns mineta into a not!asshole and not!perv yay au

Kurosaki Isshin attempts to explain dating and sex to ichigo without mentioning his zanpakuto's involvement in his own dating life au

shen yuan judges a cooking contest between hannibal and luo binghe au

hidan x squalo

sung jinwoo doesn't know that sung jinah is a kpop fangirl au

tywin lannister x sung jinwoo

bdsm bakugou au

in which a new person moves into the apartment complex and becomes sung jinwoo's neighbor au

in which kakashi was a bit of a slut when young & now he discovers that he's been a deadbeat dad without knowing that he's a dad au

yuuri attends 25th university reunion au

hibari kyoya gets scolded by a 5 year old for biting people to death au

kakuzu gains a love admirer au

an office au of solo leveling

gojo satoru x shigaraki tomura

Wei Wuxian becomes known as the S rank villain: The Necromancer in BNHA au

the obito and kakashi catfish online dating au

just some bakugou family fluff au

padme x hondo ohnaka au

e ranked hunter sung jinwoo becomes a single parent because Sung jinah somehow got deaged into a baby au

sukuna is a cat and his owner is a very insane Christian priest who believes his cat is a mouthpiece of god au

the au where sung jinwoo has a nightmare about being a kardashian

bnha ballet au

hannibal is arya 's mentor in the art of killing au

a 5+1 fic about wei wuxian and lan wangji's love over the years au

hannibal lecter is the no 1 most desirable bachelor among ghouls

in which meng mo develops a crush on shen yuan au

naruto wore frog pajamas to bed on night and the next day finds himself and other people thrown into the past au

sung jinwoo shadow extracts a buddhist statue au

gojo and getou vs evil goose au

gai and lee get dumped into the bnha world and aizawa s u f f e r s au

House of Lannister; taking over the world! A master plan by Lord Tywin Lannister.

luo binghe's palace becomes the burial mounds au

#shen jiu’s brocon brother au

shen jiu gets a thirsty onlyfans system so he never goes to cang qiong au

imagine if itachi uchiha was reborn as lan xichen au

wei wuxian is reborn to the world of pokemon au

#masterlist #masterpost #bnha #boku no academia #naruto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #svsss #solo leveling #game of thrones #manhwa #star wars #yuri on ice #mdzs #mao dao zu shi

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Oh, oh! Can we get a peek at the sculptor extra?

You certainly can!

-/-

As a general rule, Lan Wangji and Wen Qing don’t tend to play host.

Their home is certainly nice enough. Modest, but elegant and tastefully decorated in a fairly even mix of their individual personal tastes. Thankfully Lan Wangji’s preference for asceticism doesn’t seem to bother Wen Qing much, though she does tend to soften his influence with touches of her own. Slightly haphazard stacks of books on their otherwise impeccable bookshelves when she’s in the throes of a new research project, or a red throw blanket for the sectional when he would typically choose white. On the rare occasion that Lan Wangji considers what their house must seem like to outsiders, he thinks that they’ve adequately created the image of two people happily in love sharing a life together, but typically neither of them are too keen to have their personal lives observed so closely by the near-strangers they work with who would attend such things as house parties hosted by two the of the most unapproachable professors in their entire university.

That being said, Wen Qing’s family is an entirely different matter, and Lan Wangji hasn’t yet minded playing host to any of them who pass through their door (though he will admit that he has a preference for their current guests as well as Wen Qing’s grandmother).

“Rich-gege, up please,” little Wen Yuan says sweetly in the way of toddlers (where ‘please’ sounds more like ‘peas’ and is paired with grabby hands up at him in clear expectation of being held). Lan Wangji bends instantly to scoop the boy up onto his hip where he promptly clings with tiny fists in his nicely starched collar, and Lan Wangji offers the boy a smile in return for his wide grin, tongue just barely poking out between his little teeth.

“A-Yuan, you shouldn’t call him Rich-gege,” Wen Qing admonishes from the sofa, her brother beside her and the both of them cradling cups of tea. They’re clearly in the middle of supervising A-Yuan’s playtime judging by the way the perpetually tidy family room has apparently been hit by a tornado made of multicolor wooden blocks and a small menagerie of stuffed animals. 

“I do not mind,” Lan Wangji reassures, as he always does. He turns his attention back to A-Yuan tugging insistently on his collar. “Hello A-Yuan. Have you been good for popo and your Ning-ge?”

A-Yuan nods vigorously as Lan Wangji carries him into the kitchen and the boy starts lisping through a story that Lan Wangji has some difficulty following but that seems to be about a game he played with Wen Popo the day before. The rules of it as explained by A-Yuan are as incomprehensible as he would expect, but he makes a point to hum at the right moments as he pours himself a glass of water one-handed and sips at it as he listens.

A-Yuan is still chatting away when Lan Wangji sets the now empty glass in the sink and returns to the living room to settle down in the arm chair to the left of the sofa where he re-settles A-Yuan more fully on his lap so they can look at each other as they ‘talk’. He helps the boy down off his lap a few minutes later when he’s finished so he can go back to his blocks only to find himself otherwise alone with his brother-in-law.

Wen Ning is a quiet man, unlikely to fill silences or to necessarily want them filled for him, and so Lan Wangji simply unbuttons his suit jacket and settles in, one leg crossed over the other primly as he settles in properly to listen to A-Yuan playing and the sound of Wen Qing muttering to herself over something in the den around the corner, most likely one of her new lesson plans that she’s still aggressively editing.

When the sun has nearly set and A-Yuan’s play - now including Wen Ning to move his stuffed animals at his direction - has become interspersed with glances towards the kitchen, Lan Wangji stands to find Wen Qing hunched over their shared desk scribbling furiously in her notepad.

“Would you like to go out for dinner?” he offers. “It has not begun raining yet, we will likely beat the storm.”

“Hm? Oh. Dinner already?” she sighs when she glances up out the window behind him. “That’s alright, Popo sent them with enough food to feed us all for the entire weekend if we want to stretch it that far. The fridge is about to burst.”

“Mn. I will begin heating it, I believe A-Yuan is hungry.”

“I’ll be right in.”

Lan Wangji simply nods and turns to head back out through the sitting room to the kitchen, slippers quiet on the carpet. He’s methodical and precise as he withdraws enough containers from the fridge - glass casserole dishes and startling amounts of Tupperware both - to provide them with more than they’ll likely need. He knows that A-Yuan apparently doesn’t remember the brief stint he spent going hungry before moving in with Wen Popo, but Lan Wangji is still painfully aware of it anytime it’s his responsibility to take care of the boy.

#the untamed fanfic #The Sculptor - Extra #WIP #Lan Wangji #Wen Qing #Wen Ning #Wen Yuan

[gaydennisreynolds]

For the Sunny ask thingy if you have time! questions 3, 5, 11, 17 and 19

3 - favorite singing moment

wind beneath my wings IMMEDIATELY sprang to mind, of course, but im sooo soft for the gang just sitting around the bar singing together. like at the end of the gang goes jihad or in the gang gets quarantined...it's about the friendship, baby! it just really shows how much they enjoy each others company and how much fun they really have together, even though most of their on-screen interactions depict a group of people subjecting each other to psychological horrors beyond human comprehension

11 - favorite meme from the show

this is impossible to pick. but i do find myself going "twOoOoO waRrRs?!" a lot. pepe silvia charlie day dot jpeg is a staple reaction image. i mentally picture dennis throwing the mac and cheese plate in the hallway whenever someone hands me something i don't want to be holding. my wife and i, instead of saying no to each other like normal people, go NO! NO! NO! NO! like mac does to carmen in mac fights gay marriage. iasip isn't just a meme mom its a way of life ok

17 - what is it about the show that hooked you?

i was introduced to iasip at a very dark time in my life and it was just. So Nice. to watch in the throes of despair because it's so off the wall funny and impossible not to laugh out loud at, but also because i'm not jealous of these people's lives. yeah sure sometimes it makes me want more friends but they aren't living successful dream lives in some magical city where love is around every corner they are losers who are trapped in a hell of their own making. it's like commiserating: the show. plus, you can rotate the characters around in your head like a microwave due to their various and sundry traumas, ailments, and defects, which gives a nice distraction from the horrors

19 - if you had the skill/talent/time to create any content you wanted, what would you want to make?

i want to finish all my fic wips :((( i love mac and dennis and if you guys could read my crack bender fic you would LOVE IT i swear and it's all written inside my stupid baka head i just can't get it to come out right on the page. also i'd love to learn how to make video edits, i have so many good ideas but no time/energy to figure out how to edit videos on this laptop </3

i would also write more meta posts. but my job breaks my brain. i don't want to doxx myself but i work in a caring profession and after being "on" all day for clients i find it really hard to put my whole brain-ussy into psychoanalyzing characters EVEN THOUGH I REALLY WANT TO

5 answered in another ask <33 thank you for sending!!

iasip ask game

#iasip ask game #asks #anonymous #iasip #its always sunny #its always sunny in philadelphia #c.txt

[musiconanironingboard]

20 January 2024: Dead Center, Game Theory. (2023 Omnivore vinyl release of 2014 Omnivore expanded reissue of 1984 French Lolita compilation album)

Davis, California's Game Theory, and specifically frontman and sole constant Scott Miller, is on my list of all-time favorites. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I think Miller is in the same league of songwriters as Elvis Costello. He never got his full due during his life, and it wasn't until his 2013 suicide that the catalog of his band Game Theory was reissued to fanfare. (I'm still waiting for the catalog of his follow-up band The Loud Family to get the same treatment.)

The reissue campaign was overseen by Dan Vallor, Game Theory's original tour manager and sound engineer, with loving attention. I had some quibbles with its execution, but overall it provided me and countless others with the chance to revisit Miller's excellent 1980s work and it made for some of my most enjoyable listening for several years.

One of the oddball releases in the Omnivore campaign was their 2014 release Dead Center. This release was modeled after a 1984 compilation LP that came out only in France, under the same name. That original Dead Center was a bit of an oddity to begin with: it compiled some, but not all, of the tracks from the band's two EPs Pointed Accounts of People You Know (1983) and Distortion (1984) (including one written and sung by early member Fred Juhos), along with an alternate take of a song that previously appeared on a promo flexi (the title track "Dead Center") and a cover of the Box Tops' "The Letter." The French Dead Center came out before the band even had substantial distribution in the U.S.; I saw it in discographies throughout the pre-Internet years of my Game Theory fandom and was always baffled by it.

Rather than issue the original Dead Center as part of its campaign, Omnivore spruced it up to include an extra eleven songs including live recordings, demos, radio sessions, and the original flexi version of the title track. It came out on CD in 2014 and, so quietly that it happened without me even noticing, they released its first vinyl edition in August 2023. I finally learned about it while perusing the offerings in a recent 40%-off sale on the Omnivore site. I'm not sure why this was such an instant purchase; in comparison, I refused to buy a vinyl copy of the final item in the Omnivore campaign, the unpleasant 2020 compilation of death-throes Game Theory recordings Across the Barrier of Sound: Postscript from right before Miller formed The Loud Family. Unlike that album, I do love much of the content of Dead Center, and now I have an unexpected and possibly final "new" Game Theory release to enjoy when it finally rises to the top of my to-play stack. Why they issued this vinyl edition at a remove of nine years is beyond me; there was no other such gap in the rest of the band's reissue campaign.

Above are the front cover, hype sticker, and back cover. This is a single-pocket sleeve and there is no gatefold.

Below are both sides of the inner sleeve for LP one.

Next are the labels for LP one.

Next up are both sides of the inner sleeve for LP two.

And, the labels for LP two.

Here is a picture of the original French version of Dead Center from 1984, taken from Discogs. I still don't own and have never seen a copy.

[authortango]

☕ coffee or tea: describe your OC’s favorite place to relax and 🧥 warm coat: share a happy or fuzzy scene from your wip!

OC's favorite place to relax:

Amelia Jane from my WIP QBOB's favorite place to relax would probably be a bookshop, preferably with a cafe attached to it. The smell of coffee, plus a cozy hot drink in a quiet environment while reading a new book are really relaxing to her.

Share a happy or fuzzy scene from your WIP:

“You want information that Madame Crowe either cannot or will not give you, right? Madame Crowe wants the book back. So you pitch the mission as though it's the quest for the stolen book.” Spencer sighed with exasperation, as though he couldn't believe he was doing this. As he got up and headed towards the door, he stopped in the middle of the circle and said, “This is never going to work.” “Maybe so,” Amelia agreed. “But at least this way we asked before running off into the night.” When Spencer still hesitated, she asked, “Do you need someone to go with you for moral support?” “Nah, I can do this. After all, I've faced worse, haven't I?” He shrugged, giving her a crooked half smile. At least he was trying. A few minutes after he left the room, he heard the sounds of footsteps behind him, jogging to catch up. He turned to see Victoria striding next to him, trying to match his pace as they walked together. “What are you doing?” He asked, almost laughing with disbelief. “Moral support.” She said coolly, giving him a small smile in return. The crooked smile started to reappear on Spencer's face, his confidence gaining as he walked down the hall with Victoria.

Since I'm in the throes of planning edits for this WIP, it was a little hard for me to find a scene that I either might not cut or isn't spoilers. But I think this one is pretty good!

Thank you for sending me the ask game!

#qbob #the quest for the book of balance #my writing #spencer pierson #amelia jane raney

[lovely-lee]

1, 3, and 14 for the hermitcraft asks? :o

1 - when and how did you get into hermitcraft?

During Double Life! That’s when I got hooked into the life series/hermitcraft from seeing my mutuals talk about it here :D but I was actually aware of both since third life and s7. I even started watching Grian’s s8, the first couple episodes but it didn’t interested me then probably because I was in the throes of another hyper-fixation anyways. I got here eventually :D

3 - watched any past seasons?

Yes! I’m going with ‘past seasons’ means not s9 so I’ve watched all of Scar, Grian, and Tango’s s8 and going through Bdubs currently. And all of Scar’s s7 and almost done with Grain’s. Still trying to finish one s6 perspective all the way through but it is. So hard. I want to watch more of all the seasons including 4 and 5 too!

14 - favourite intro/outro? (whether just a spoken one or an edited one)

probably Zed’s intro and outro! Also I’ve seen a clip of an edited one of his where he combined a bunch of different hermits intros. That’s probably my favorite one time one xD

Ask game :3

#thank you for the ask!! this wa so fun #answered :D

[hope-speak]

about

You can call me Sasha! I'm an artist and writer and I'm in the throes of a Danganronpa hyperfixation

I have an AO3 (hope_speak) which is pretty empty at this point but I have many WIPs... maybe too many...

This blog is kind of a way for me to dump my art, share my thoughts and horribly edited memes, and reblog others' art!

I'm very new to digital art and I don't claim to be a good artist. I'm hoping it'll be cool for this blog to be a way for me to track how I'm improving or getting worse

I have played the first two games and have gleaned knowledge of V3 through ~spoilers~ (that I looked up. I looked up the spoilers. I needed to know.)

I have many favorite DR characters but I could literally write essays about Hajime. I am literally writing an essay about Hajime.

I will do my best to tag things properly, from fandoms/characters to content warnings, but please let me know if I've missed something :)