#i was the age of the characters when i wrote it

[morgana-larkin]

HMM,,, if i dare request an either chessy or melissa fic.. with... like them having a breast/lactation kink and when doing the deed- like praising reader and making them suck her tits ETC do whatever u feel is necessary with this if u even want to write it.... :) /// also inexperienced reader and/ or mommy kink....

Dare accepted! I also did a little surprise and did both of them! I don’t see Chessy as having a mommy kink though so I didn’t do that for her. So it’s quite long since I wrote about both and tried to make it as cute as possible. So good luck! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: you might have noticed that I added 2 other characters to my masterlist, adult Misty from yellowjackets and Moiraine Sedai from wheel of time. Send prompts for any character on my masterlist! I do it all, angst (with reluctance), fluff, smut, age gap.

Her Good Girl

Warnings: ok there’s a small list. Breast kink, mommy kink, praise kink, so much fluff, semi public smut, smut

Words: 6.9k (I have no regrets)

Melissa

“When are you gonna ask her out?” Barb says to Melissa one morning.

“Ask who out?” Melissa says, even though she knows exactly who Barb is talking about.

“She means y/n.” Janine pipes up and Melissa and Barb turn to the trio.

“Ya, I mean you guys are so flirty I’m surprised you aren’t already together.” Jacob says.

“It’s really obvious.” Gregory adds and Melissa turns back around and face Barb.

“What they said.” Barb says.

“I just, I’m not ready.” Melissa says. “Where is she anyway? She’s usually here by now.” Melissa adds as she sees the time.

20 minutes later they all get up to go greet their students and Melissa sees you’re still not here. They walk to their classrooms and then Melissa sees you coming in the front door in a hurry and your hair is wet.

“If you’re not gonna ask her out then at least put the heart eyes away.” Barb teases her as Melissa looks at you longingly and with soft eyes.

You end up catching up to them as you all make your way to your classrooms. “Hey you two.” You tell them.

“Hey hun.” Melissa says right away.

“Morning sweetheart.” Barb says after looking at Melissa with a smile and shake of her head.

“Running late this morning?” Melissa asks you.

“Ya, I forgot to set my alarm clock and woke up 40 minutes ago. Took the world’s fastest shower and didn’t have time to blow dry it.” You tell her. You then both say bye to Barb as you reach her class then you both continue on to yours.

“Well I think you still look good, wet hair or dry.” She tells you with a smile.

“Thanks.” You tell her. Unknown to you is where Melissa's mind is wandering right now seeing your hair wet. Things the two of you could do in the shower. Then Melissa takes a deep breath and tries to think of other things to calm herself as she feels herself getting wet between the legs and it’s not even 8am yet.

“Did you have a coffee?” She asks you and you shake your head.

“I’m gonna get a headache from the caffeine withdrawal until lunch.” You say with a pout.

“Well here, I still have half left. Take the rest of mine.” She tells you and hands you her mug.

“Oh no, that’s your coffee, you should have it. I’ll just power through until lunch.”

“Hun, I’m offering it to you. Just take it, I had enough for the morning.” She tells you.

“Are you sure?” You ask and she nods with a smile. “Alright, if you insist.” You say and you take her mug and take a sip. You hum at the taste of the caffeine and you smile.

“Do you want to go out with me?” She asks as you reach your classroom. You choke on the coffee and begin coughing. She pats and rubs your back until you stop.

“What?” You ask her, you didn’t know if you heard her right.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” She repeats and you smile at her.

“Yes, I’d love to.” You tell her and she beams.

“How does this Saturday sound?” She asks you.

“Sounds perfect.” You tell her and kiss her cheek, she blushes and touches the spot where you kissed her cheek and smiles.

*7 weeks later*

It’s Saturday night and you’re both cuddling on her couch, finishing the movie. The credits roll and you reluctantly pull away from her and stretch and yawn.

“I should probably get going.” You say and stand up.

“Alright hun. Will I see you tomorrow?” She asks you and you nod. She gets off the couch and goes to where you’re gathering your things near the door. You stand back up and you look at her. You lean in and give her a quick peck, then you give another and another. Then you keep your lips on hers and end up making out with her. At some point you end up moaning and she pulls away. “As much as I would love to keep kissing you, your moaning is gonna make me want more.” She tells you.

You told her you were a virgin 3 weeks ago when she asked you if you wanted to have sex and she told you to let her know when you were ready. You felt so lucky to have her, she was so patient and understanding with you. You leaned in and kissed her again and she pulled back after 2 seconds before it could continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow hun.” She tells you. You were about to put your shoes on when you looked at her again, her smiling at you and you realised, you’re ready now.

“Actually, I think I’d like to stay.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you. “I’d like to stay and keep kissing you.” You tell her and walk towards her and put your hands on her stomach gently. She flinches and looks shocked and then you start moving them up, towards her chest. She stops your hands by grabbing your wrists and looks at you, still holding your wrists.

“Hun, what are you doing?” She asks you and you smile at her.

“I’m ready, and I want you right now.” You tell her and she still looks at you.

“Are you certain? Like 100% certain?” She tells you.

“Yes, I want you to be the one that takes my virginity Mel.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Then come to my bedroom.” She tells you and makes you go first. You walk upstairs and as soon as you make it to the top. She spins you around and kisses you, and then picks you up and places your legs around her waist. She carries you the rest of the way to her bedroom and she gently places you on the bed. She goes to close the door and then makes her way back to you.

You scoot up a little further on the bed and Melissa crawls on top of you and kisses your lips. She grabs the hem of your shirt and then pulls back to look at you and you nod. She takes your shirt off and she looks at you. “God you’re so beautiful.” She tells you and you bring her back to kissing you. She trails down to your neck and kisses your neck then begins sucking on it and you gasp and arch your back. Melissa sneaks her hand under you and unclips your bra. She takes it off with your help and she throws it somewhere on the ground. She switches to the other side of your neck and she cups both of your breasts in her hands and squeezes them. You moan at that and she smirks before trailing down again to your chest and places kisses all over your chest before placing her mouth around a nipple. You grab her hair when she places her mouth on a nipple as the feeling is heavenly.

“Omg Mel. That feels so good!” You tell her and she smirks, you don’t see it but you feel it. After a minute, she switches to the other nipple and you buck your hips. After another minute of her swirling her tongue around on your nipple and sucking it, she pulls away and moves down. She takes your pants off with little effort and she places her fingers on your underwear then looks at you for confirmation again. You nod your head and she slides your underwear off slowly, just enjoying seeing your whole body without anything on it, and she’s the only privileged one to ever see it, and that makes her happy. She rubs her hands up and down your legs and thighs, just feeling your entire body. She lies down to place her mouth on your clit when you speak up. “Wait.” You say and she stops immediately and looks at you. “I want to see you too. I’m completely bare here and you still have all your clothes on.” You tell her and she grins.

“I know, that’s how I like it. But don’t worry, you’ll see my body as well. After I pleasure you first.” She says with a wink and you blush. “Are you ready?” She asks you and you nod. She wastes no more time after that, she dives down to your clit and starts swirling her tongue on it and you moan out at the feeling and you grab her hair again. She then goes lower to your entrance and you gasp. “Oh Amore, you taste so good.” She tells you then sticks her tongue in your entrance and you gasp loudly. She takes her tongue out then immediately sticks it back in again and repeats for a couple minutes. She pulls back and you whine, “have you touched yourself before?” She asks you and you look at her.

“Only with a vibrator.” You tell her and her eyes shine at that.

“So you’ve never fingered yourself?” She asks and you shake your head. “Oh Amore, I feel so privileged.” She tells you and you blush. “I’m going to stick my finger in but if you want me to stop then let me know ok?” She asks and you nod. “It might hurt a bit at first but that’s because you’re not used to it.” She says and you nod again. She starts playing with your clit and you buck your hips and she lined her middle finger up with your entrance and she slowly inserts it. You gasp out when she’s entering and then when it’s in all the way, you moan. It does hurt a bit but she stays there until you nod at her to tell her the pain stopped. She slowly slides it back out then slides it right back in again and you begin to moan again.

“Can you go faster?” You tell her and she smiles and speeds up. You gasp and grab her hair. While she’s still fingering you, she leans down to you and kisses your lips. Her thumb goes to your clit and you gasp in her mouth and she slides her tongue in and you moan. She slows down and slides a second finger in and you arch your back and gasp in the kiss again. You feel you're close to coming and your legs start to shake and Melissa notices.

“Oh baby, are you close?” She asks you and you nod. “Do you want to cum for mommy?” She asks and you don’t even flinch at the nickname she gives herself, in fact it turns you on even more.

“Yes I want to cum for you mommy.” You say and she grins.

“Then cum for me baby.” She tells you and you come immediately. Melissa slows her fingers down and gently pulls them out. You take a minute to catch your breath and Melissa comes back in with a cloth. When did she leave? She gently wipes your centre then looks at you with a smile. “How was that?” She asks you.

“Fucking incredible!” You tell her and she beams. She comes up to you and cuddles you. After about 10 seconds you go and straddle her lap.

“Something you want Amore?” She tells you with a quirked eyebrow.

“I want you.” You tell her.

“You just had me.” She teases you.

“I want to see your body and touch it and make you feel good too.” You tell her.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to, the first time might be a bit overwhelming.” She tells you and strokes your cheek with the same hand she used to finger you. You grab her hand and stick the 2 fingers she used in your mouth and lick them. She looks at you with so much lust in that moment, you think she might fuck you again. You moan around her fingers and she rubs her legs together. You remove her fingers from your mouth and you reach for her shirt and she nods before you take it off. You look at her stomach and chest and you have to wipe some drool off that slipped out and she giggles. You reach in the back and unclip her bra and you practically ripped it off. Once it’s off, you freeze and stare at her breasts. They’re so big and so soft looking, they’re irresistible, they’re perfect. “Go on and touch them if you want. I like it when people touch them and suck on them. It’s a kink of mine.” She tells you and you immediately cup both of them and then attach your mouth around a nipple and she moans. “Yes baby, just like that.” She tells you and you begin sucking on it and she grabs your hair. “Yes that’s it, suck mommy’s tit.” She says and you moan which makes her buck her hips due to the vibration on her nipple.

She practically traps your head there since she’s holding your hair but you don’t care, you feel like you can spend all day just licking and sucking her nipples.

“Baby, can you be a good girl and suck mommy’s other tit?” She asks you and you immediately pull back and attach your mouth on the other one and start sucking. “Good girl.” She says and you moan. She sees that you like getting praised, she thinks you might have a praise kink. You take her pants and underwear off after you pull back and you look at her completely naked and you blush. “Does my baby like what she sees? Do you like mommy’s body?” She asks as she strokes your cheek.

“Yes mommy, I love your body.” You tell her and she smiles.

“How about you stick your cute little fingers in me and put that amazing mouth of yours back on my nipples? How does that sound?” She asks you.

“I like it.” You tell her and you go to stick your fingers in and realise you have no idea where to put them. Melissa notices this and she guides your fingers to her entrance and you stick a finger in and she moans.

“That’s it baby, put another one in, don’t be shy.” She tells you and you stick another one in and you start sliding in and out of her. You think that she feels amazing around your fingers and you don’t want to ever pull out. She then leans down so her boobs are in mouths reach and you wrap your mouth around a nipple and you start sucking. Melissa starts moaning like crazy and it turns you on and you rub your thighs together. Melissa notices the action and looks at you with a smirk. “Oh, does my baby like the noises that mommy makes for her?” She asks you and you nod. “If you like I can fuck you with a strap after.” She tells you and you nod.

You go and suck on the other nipple and Melissa continues moaning and she is now riding your fingers while you continue to slide in and out of her, matching her rhythm. She grabs your hair and she starts shaking and you look up at her face while still sucking on her nipple.

“That’s it baby, I’m so close, rub my clit.” She commands and you obey. You bring your other hand in between her legs and you find her clit and start rubbing it. Seconds after she comes with a high pitched gasp. She takes your fingers out of her and puts them in her mouth and licks them clean. She moans when she’s licking the taste of herself off your fingers while looking at you. She smirks then gets off the bed and heads to her closet.

“Wait! Where are you going?” You ask her and she turns around.

“Don’t worry, just to my closet. I made you a promise didn’t I?” She says and you look confused. Did she? You can’t remember. She then pulls out a strap and puts it on and that’s when you remember. She walks towards you with it on and you wonder how she can look breathtaking no matter what. She climbs on top of you and puts her hands all over your stomach and chest. “So beautiful, and all mine.” She says softly and you moan. “Do you like being mine baby?” She asks you and you’re back to only being able to nod as you can’t find your voice. She wants to get you more wet to not hurt you as you only ever had a finger in you before and that was 10 minutes ago. She grabbed her smallest dildo but she wants to be cautious. She then remembers that you might have a praise kink, so she experiments with that. “Well, you don’t have to worry baby, you are mine, you’re my good girl.” She tells you and you feel all the wetness from your mouth shoot to your core at her praises. She checks your entrance and sure enough, you’re wet enough now. She lines the strap up and looks at you. “This might hurt a bit baby, but if it hurts too much then tell me straight away ok?” She says and you nod.

She then starts to slide in the tip and you feel it start to fill you. She slides more in and you feel yourself stretch to accommodate it. It does start to hurt a bit but not to the point of being painful, especially if it’s also mixed with pleasure. She slides in fully and you gasp.

“You ok baby?” She asks you, voice full of concern. It takes you a few seconds but then you look at her and nod. “Do you still feel a bit of pain?” You nod at that and she stays still, she does move a bit but only to kiss you. You start to relax and then you notice the pain disappeared and only pleasure remains and you start to squirm. Melissa feels you squirm and looks at you. “Am I correct to assume you want me to start moving?” She says and you nod. She smiles at you then starts sliding in and out of you.

You start gasping and moaning as you feel it slide out then immediately fill you back up. You look at her and of course it’s a goddess that’s making you feel this and you pull her head down and kiss her. Melissa is taken by surprise by it but isn’t complaining, she likes that you get a sudden urges to kiss her, it makes her feel wanted. She smiles into the kiss while she’s sliding in and out of you, then moves a hand down to rub your clit. You gasp into the kiss at the intense pleasure you’re feeling. With her lips kissing yours, her boobs squashed on your body, her finger rubbing your clit and the dildo sliding in and out of you at a fast pace. All that together makes you come fast and strong.

She slides out of you and removes the strap. She goes to get a cloth and cleans you up. You yelp at first due to sensitivity but she makes sure to be as careful as possible and then cleans herself up. She lays down next to you and you immediately seek her body out for comfort and she doesn’t hesitate to hold her arms out and bring you close to her, with your head on her chest.

“Do you like that hon?” She asks you once your body has stopped shaking.

“Ya I did.” You tell her with a huge smile. “Did you?”

“Ya, I loved it.” She says and you yawn. “Get some sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.” She tells you.

“You promise?” You ask her.

“I promise.” She says and you get more comfortable and immediately fall asleep, Melissa stroking your head and finally feeling like she’s where she’s meant to be. She falls asleep with a smile on her face.

Chessy

You catch Chessy's attention the first time you came over to the house. You knock on the door and Nick runs over to answer it. When you enter with him, Chessy is walking over to go get Hallie and Annie for lunch.

“Hey Chessy, I want you to meet my sister y/n.” He tells her and she gives him a look. She knew he had a younger sister but didn’t know there was such an age gap. You look to be 15 years younger.

“Hi nice to finally meet you.” She says and you look over at Nick then stick your hand out to shake hands with her.

“Hi, nice to meet you too. Nick has talked about all of you and wanted to finally meet his household.” You say. “Nick, I didn’t know you talked about me, I’m honoured.” You tell him and he chuckles.

“Forgive me for asking, but it seems like there’s a noticeable age gap between you too.” Chessy says and you both look at her and smile.

“Ya, 16 years, but we love each other regardless.” Nick says and puts a hand around your shoulders and you giggle.

“Wow, quite a difference. Anyway, lunch is ready, and Nick mentioned you’d be coming over so there’s enough for you to have some as well.” She says and you smile at her.

“Thank you so much!” You tell her and she blushes. She then scurries away quickly to go get the twins. Nick looked at the interaction with interest. He knows that Chessy is interested in both genders and he knows that you’re interested in women, a bit older women too. You mentioned your type to him before and now that he thinks about it, Chessy fits it perfectly. He decides not to say anything as he’s finally getting to reconnect with you in person again after not having seen you for a few years.

A month goes by and since you recently moved to California to get to know Nick’s family more, you lived in an apartment building about half an hour drive away. You mentioned it to Nick when he says you could drop by more instead of a few times a month. You told him that it’s a lot of gas and you got an apartment to pay for and not a great paying job. He then offered to let you move into the house, rent free and after a little insisting and Chessy telling you that it’s a great idea, you accept.

A couple months go by and you and Chessy spend a lot of time together. The twins notice it and also notices the looks you give each other and of course one of them brings it up and embarrasses both of you.

“Are you guys dating?” Hallie asks you both and Chessy’s cheeks turn red and you choke on your juice as you were taking a sip and start coughing. Chessy immediately goes and gives you a few pats and rubs your back to help with the coughs.

“Hal, why would you think we’re dating?” She asks her and the twins look at each other.

“You mean you’re not?” Annie asks and you and Chessy both shake your heads.

“But you spend a lot of time together, you keep giving each other looks that our parents give each other and you’re constantly being touchy.” Hallie explains and you both look at the twins then you look at each other.

“Ok get out of here you trouble makers.” Chessy says and shoos them away. She then turns back to you when they leave. “Hey I’m sorry abo-hm.” she starts but is cut off by your lips on hers.

And that was the start of many kisses and a relationship.

3 months pass and it’s the summertime and Chessy planned a date with you after Nick gave her time off for it, not knowing you and Chessy are dating.

Chessy brings you horseback riding, you take one horse though and she brings you a good distance away from the house. It’s about a 15-20 minute ride. She then gets off and helps you get down and then ties the horse to a tree then sets up a blanket on the ground.

“Did you take me on a picnic date?” You ask her and wrap your arms around her waist and kiss her shoulder blade.

“Ya, is that ok?” She asks, concerned you might not like it.

“Yes, I love it.” You tell her and she turns around in your arms. You both are the same height so she easily kisses your lips and wraps her arms around your neck.

“You know what I love?” She tells you and you look at her curious, you haven’t said the L word yet, but you know you both love each other.

“What?” You ask.

“You” she says and you smile.

“Well I love you too.” You tell her and she smiles and kisses you again.

You both have a great picnic date as she made both your favourite finger foods and you dive into great conversation.

At one point you feed her a piece of fruit and the juice runs down to your arm a bit and she goes and licks it up right away. You let out a small moan and you jump at her and crash your lips together.

“Woah.” Chessy says and it takes her by surprise, so while she still is able to put her hands on your hips, she still falls back on her back, with you on top of her.

When you pull back, you both stare at each other and Chessy smiles up at you. “Hi beautiful.” She tells you and you blush.

“Hi, sorry about that.” You say at bit embarrassed.

“Hey, don’t be sorry. I liked the surprise.” She tells you and moves some of your hair behind you that’s blocking your face. You look at her and you see the care she has for you and it overwhelms you and warms your heart. You knew she cares about you and you always blushed when she did things for you as you weren’t used to it from a partner.

Chessy knew your past relationships weren’t the best and didn’t last long as you told her about them. When you told her then she wanted to show you how a partner should treat you, with respect and love. She let you set the pace as she doesn’t want to push or pressure you, you told her that you came close to having sex once with a partner but then backed out as it didn’t feel right.

You kiss her again and neither of you pull back. Chessy knows she should pull back now as she’s getting turned on with your body on her like this and you’re making out with her. She doesn’t pull back and accidentally lets a moan slip out and her cheeks go red as you pull back.

“Do you want to have sex?” You ask her confused and Chessy is wondering how you don’t know how you effect her.

“Yes, I have for about 2 months.” She tells you. “But I’m letting you decide when you’re ready and I don’t want to pressure you.” She tells you honestly and you look at her with such love.

You cup her cheek and she leans into your touch. “How did I get so lucky with you?” You say and she hums.

“I feel like I’m the lucky one.” She says. You suddenly look around and you see there’s no one around and then you take your dress off. Chessy looks at you and cheeks go red as a tomato. “What are you doing?” She asks and you smile. You know she won’t do anything unless you tell her you’re ready but you decide to tease her first.

“What you don’t like what you see?” You ask her and you drop your smile, to play the act.

“What? Of course I do, but hon, I don’t think you realise the effect you have on me.” She says and she accidentally moves her hips a bit and rubs her thighs together.

“Well what if I told you I want you to touch me?” You tell her with a lower voice and lean down and scoot down a little bit and push her shirt up enough to see skin. You then lean down more and trail kisses up her stomach.

“Hon, I-”

“I want you to touch me, all. over.” You punctuate at the end and you slide your hands under her shirt and they land on her bra before she grabs your wrists and pulls them out of her shirt. You could tell she’s almost at a breaking point and you push a little further. You lean down and suck on her neck and she gasps. She lets go of your wrists and pulls your head back.

“Hon, please I-” she then freezes when you unclip your bra and take it off.

“Do you wanna touch them?” You ask her and she lets out a whine. “Go on then, I want you Chessy.” And at that she snaps. She flips you both over so she’s on top and she dives right to a nipple and starts sucking. You gasp and moan as she puts that experienced mouth on you and finds out quickly what you like. You take the blue sweater off of her and Chessy takes her top off quickly. She then goes to your neck and leaves hickeys all over your neck and chest. “You know my brother will find out as soon as we get back home” you tell her and she smirks.

“He’ll be happy to know you’re being taken cared of.” She says and rubs her hands up your body, starting at your hips. You grab her head and pull her down to kiss you and you unclip her bra and throw it somewhere. You then undo the button on her pants and pull them down. They don’t go far as you both refuse to break the kiss and you move your legs to try and pull them down. It was rather unsuccessful but it did give her a great opportunity since her legs are now right in between yours. She breaks away from the kiss with a laugh at your attempt and kicks them off. “I know you teased me to see how far you could go before I break and believe me, you’ll pay for it next time, but for now, since this is your first time, I want you to enjoy this.” She tells you and in retrospect you probably should have listened but you couldn’t with her boobs right in your face.

You sit up and immediately put a nipple in your mouth while cupping it with your hand and your other hand around her waist to help keep yourself up. You hum as you suck on it and can’t believe how many times you imagined them and how they would feel and taste, and now you know.

“Do you like them honey? Do you like sucking on them?” She asks when she heard you hum. You nod as your mouth is occupied at the moment and she grabs your head. “Suck on them all you want, baby. Your mouth feels so good on them.” She says and when you give a rather hard suck on them, her mouth hangs open, lost in the pleasure. You spend a good few minutes just enjoying her breasts, licking and sucking on them and enjoying the noises she’s making.

While Chessy is used to her breasts getting attention, she’s not used to this much, and she’s loving it. The men she’s dated as only ever paid like 30 seconds on them and when right to her pussy, the women usually about a minute before right to her pussy. And while she knows you’re both soaking wet right now, she can’t help but feel how good it is to have this much attention on them, it’s a kink she never knew she had.

“Oh my good girl, you’re just in love with sucking on them aren’t you?” She says when you pull away.

“Yes, I just love how big they are. I feel like I can suck on the whole thing.” You tell her and she stops you before you do. She’ll let you next time but for now, she wants this to move along. If you’re anywhere she is right now then you’re soaking wet in between your legs.

“Woah there, baby. You can next time but right now, I’ve been wondering how you taste.” She says and you smile.

“Can I sit on your face?” You suddenly ask as she takes your underwear off.

“What?” She asks. Your question caught her off guard, she knows she’ll accept, she wants to taste you and doesn’t matter to her who’s on their back.

“I heard about face sitting and was curious and want to try it.” You ask and she smiles.

“Of course.” She says to you and you get up while she gets on her back. You go up to her face and you align your entrance with her mouth and then lower yourself on her. The first lick she does and you both moan. She thinks you taste amazing and you think it felt really good and you both want more.

She starts licking all over your entrance and eventually sticks her tongue in and starts sliding in and out of you. You gasp and fall forward but she catches you and keeps you up by holding your waist. You end up bucking your hips and grab and yank her hair by accident as the pleasure is just so good. You feel bad for pulling her hand but she just moans and you think that either she didn’t mind or she liked it. You try again and she moaned again and realised that she likes her hair being pulled. She lifts you up a bit to speak. “You can do whatever you want to me, baby.” She says and then brings you back down on her mouth. Only this time she goes to your clit and you really start bucking your hips. You think that grabbing her hair isn’t enough so you put your hands back and grab her nipples. You squeeze them and she moans which vibrates on your clit and you let out a hitch pitch gasp as it took you by surprise and it felt good. You keep squeezing them as her moaning brings you more pleasure and before you know it, you’re close.

“Oh Chessy, I’m so close.” And she gives you a thumbs up to tell you to let go and cum. You do immediately after and Chessy licks it all up. You then get off of her and collapse next to her.

“Did that take a lot of you, baby?” She asks when she sees you spread out like a starfish and breathing hard, and you just nod. She just scoots up next to you and puts a hand over your chest. You turn to face her and kiss her lips, moaning when you taste yourself on her and that gives you a wave of energy. You take her underwear off and then go back wrapped up in her arms. While Chessy thinks you took them off to be able to feel her body on yours to calm down, you actually took them off to finger her. You bring her leg and put it over yours, then you bring a hand down in between her legs and immediately slide a finger in her entrance. She immediately bucks her hips, gasps and brings a hand to your arm, and mouth wide open. She hasn’t had anything in her in a few years and it feels so good. You add another one and slide them in and out of her slowly at first. “Baby, can you go faster?” She begs and you smile.

“I thought you said I could do whatever I want to you?” You tell her and she whines. Fuck sakes, she did say that.

“Didn’t think you’d make me regret saying it.” She jokes with you between gasps. You take pity on her as she made you feel really good and you want to do that for her. You go much faster and she hangs her mouth open again and gasps like crazy. “Oh god, yes baby, that feels so good.” She says and you risk it and add a third finger in her and she falls back on her back, overcome with pleasure. You put your other hand on her clit and rub it while you lean down and suck her nipple. She ends up leaning on her forearms with her legs spread wide open for you and she starts shaking. “Oh god, oh god baby, I’m so fucking close.” She says and you go and suck her other nipple. She comes immediately as you start sucking. You pull out of her and put your fingers in your mouth and lick them. She looks at you as you do that and as soon as you moan at the taste of her, she pounces at you and you end up on your back and her on top.

She wastes no time in kissing you and immediately sticks two fingers in you and you moan into the kiss. She curls her fingers in you while fingering you and you see stars and have to shut your eyes. She puts her thumb on your clit and rubs in a circular motion and you do a huge gasp and start shaking.

“Let go baby, it’s ok, I’ve got you.” She tells you and you immediately come. She pulls out of you then licks her fingers. She didn’t bring any cloths so the blanket will have to do, and cleans you both up. She the lays down next to you to help you both calm down with skin to skin.

“Hmm, I really enjoyed that.” You tell her and she giggles.

“Well I’m glad. Cause I really enjoyed it too.” She tells you and you smile. You end up getting dressed, packing everything up and get back on the horse after about 20 minutes of cuddling and you head back.

On the way back you get in a little teasing mood and you slip your hand under her shirt to cup her boob and rub her clit through her pants and underwear.

“What are you doing, baby?” She says and makes no attempt to stop you even though she could.

“Teasing you.” You simply say.

“Baby, if you keep at it then I’ll stop this horse and take you against the nearest tree.” She tells you. And you pull away from her clit but you put both your hands on her boobs after unclipping her bra.

“I just love these.” You say and she hums and leans back a bit, leaning into your touch. You both make it back to the house, Chessy nearly took you against a tree twice, and you end up clipping her bra back on. She brings the horse to the stable, she gets off then she helps you off. Once you land on the ground though, you wrap a leg around her waist and kiss her. She picks you up and brings you up against the stable wall and continues kissing you.

“Oh my god! Not what a brother wants to see!” You hear and you both pull back and see Nick there covering his eyes with a hand. Chessy puts you down and goes to put the horse away properly and give him something to eat.

“Sorry Nick.” You tell him and then laugh.

“Ya, sorry boss.” Chessy says and walks up behind you, wraps her arms around your waist and places her head on your shoulder.

“I had a feeling you two were together but I did not want to find out that way.” He complains and you and Chessy giggle. “Are those hickeys on your necks?” He says then looks to the horse and the fact you were gone for 3 hours. “Oh my god, on second thought don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. But Chessy, she is my little sister, so if you hurt her then I will fire you.” He tells her and points a finger at her.

“Well I guess it’s good that I have no plans to hurt her.” She says and gives your shoulder a kiss.

“And y/n, even though you’re my sister, Chessy has been with us for many years, so hurt her and you’ll have to deal with me.” He tells you and you turn to Chessy.

“Well I guess I’m stuck with you then.” You tell her with a huge smile. She responds to that with a hard kiss to your cheek and tickles your stomach and you giggle. You break out of her embrace and run away from her tickles and she runs after you, both of you laughing. Nick watches you run both away and shakes his head with a smile. “Such dorks.” He says out loud.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #chessy x reader #melissa schemmenti #chessy #x reader #fanfic

[wildfloweronwheels]

the more I sit with the tortured poets department, the more it makes perfect sense as a body of work taylor would create/release especially when you consider the fact she operates much more closely to an indie artist artistically than a lot of her contemporaries.

so honest it's catching people off guard? she's been doing that her whole career from the minute she put people's real names in her songs. lyrically sharp and slightly alarming? may I present "and you come away with a great little story about a mess of a dreamer to adore you" or "you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter." bold and sonically strange? she's been blurring the lines of genre since her earliest albums, regularly blending country, pop, folk and even rock. 1989 has been her only traditionally dare I say 'sonically cohesive' album and the only reason its palate is so clean is because of the risk a pure pop album posed to her successful country career. if she hadn't nailed the landing then, she wouldn't be where she is now. *it also feels worth noting her most adventurous 'weird' but music has come AFTER she thought she'd had her last chance at mainstream success (lover) and as a result, thrown away the checklist because she thought she had nothing to lose. she was just making music for herself with no expectation of success*

'there's too many metaphors and characters/the muses are murky and I can't tell what's real. does she have to write so much fiction now?' this is the girl who immortalised her neighbours love story, who rewrote romeo and juliet, dreamed about crashing a wedding and was inspired by bob + ethel kennedy for god's sake. she's always written stories and imagined.

'I just can't understand why she'd make this and take this risk when we all liked her so much?' my friend, have we been paying attention to the same artist all these years? taylor swift not taking creative and honestly quite punk career risks would be like christopher nolan films without cillian murphy. she walked away from a development deal at age 14, took a chance on an independent label she built from the ground up and then bet on her future when they held her past hostage. took a genre they said wasn't for teenage girls and transformed it. wrote an album on her own after her songwriting was questioned. took a 10 minute song to #1, directed music videos and a short film worthy of oscar buzz, stretched her muscles and is directing a feature film AND re-recorded all her old work in arguably the biggest potential interruption to her career not for any perceived gain but for the statement of an artist's worth. but the world doesn't view them as risks because they worked

tldr; the tortured poets department is the most taylor swift thing taylor swift has ever made.

#taylor swift #hannah post™️ #the tortured poets department #ttpd #ts ttpd

[flurry-of-stars]

𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓮 𝓗𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓼

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: 𝒩𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝐹𝓎𝑜𝒹𝑜𝓇 𝓍 𝒜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Slow burn romance, female reader, small age gap (Fyodor is thirty, the reader is in her early twenties.) No Abilities AU, angst, fluff, eventual smut, multipart story. 𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “Eyeing his new assistant from across the table, Fyodor’s heart twists in some cold form of rebellion–” “His eyes scan you, watching as your pen glides across the paper, translating his words carefully. A smug smirk rises onto his lips, noting how many times you stop and start. You were already struggling.” 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 6.5k or so (A/N: First of all, I’m giving the biggest shoutout to a very close friend of mine for helping with the Russian written in this chapter, you’re the best and I owe you for this ❤ Second of all, I know, strange to write an author AU when the characters are based on authors but here we are. I want to say Novelist AU Fyodor may have a few similar traits to IRL Dostoyevsky but he is not supposed to be a complete one-for-one in every sense of the word. They’re supposed to just be minor nods to the real Dostoyevsky.) ❤ Reblogs are appreciated ❤

𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝐼 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝒶𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒? 𝒮𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝓅𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓇 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓀𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝒹? 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝐼 𝓈𝒶𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝒾𝓃 𝒾𝓇𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃, 𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝒶𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝒸𝓇𝓊𝓃𝒸𝒽 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝑒𝒹? 𝒪𝒽...𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝐼'𝒹 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃. 𝒯𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝒸𝓊𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈.... ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ The lake always looks mystical early in the morning at this time of year. A faint mist rolls over the mirrored surface as dancers in orange and yellow descend from their places in the comforting embrace of timber and bark. Soldiers of fading green, browns and oranges line the lake, swaying in the soft, chilly breeze. Bird song and the gentle scurrying of the forest’s dwellers is the perfect symphony to this backdrop. Yes. This was why Fyodor always sat outside to write. He felt a peace unlike anything else when he sat at his small outdoor table, the earth claiming the furniture by wrapping tendrils of green around its leg. He doesn’t mind. He never had any intentions of moving it after all. A single page sat at his hands, one hand elegantly moving across it as he writes in Russian, his mother tongue. The sound of his pen scratching against the white sheet tickles his brain pleasantly, each stroke deliberate and careful. Fyodor would only write the drafts of his novels on paper. He would never touch a keyboard. Even when conversing with his agent he would only use his phone. With his long distant friend and fellow author, he opted for letters. Technology was something Fyodor wasn’t fond of. His deep, purple eyes rise from the page, tired eyes scanning the horizon before him. He notices a few russet sparrows flying over the lake. For a moment, he even thinks he can see a fox on the other side of the lake, disappearing into the treeline. Yes. This view was far more enjoyable than some television or computer screen. He breathes deeply, taking in the rich, earthy air around him. It wouldn’t be long until this view would be painted in white, the frigid air forcing him to stay indoors far more than he would have liked to be there. The novelist was a homebody, that much was true. But he spent most of his time outdoors when he wrote his stories. Or rather, attempted to. His current novel had been giving him a bit of grief as of late. “Romance novels are popular right now!” He could still hear his agent’s voice insisting. “With the works you’re already known for, I bet the world is dying to see your take on one! Plus, if we partner with this company and make it an international release, the revenue would tie you over so you can focus on a novel you actually want to write!” Fyodor scoffs. He wouldn’t have even considered writing such a novel, were it not for the fact that his funds were looking a bit depressed as of late, due to a few recent large expenses that needed to be paid. His eyes scanned over to his wristwatch; it was still a few hours yet until his guest would arrive. Another matter his agent had been too insistent on that Fyodor had begrudgingly accepted.

He didn’t understand why she had been so pushy about the matter of an assistant. He had managed so far on his own. He didn’t need any help. These were his stories to tell. Sighing, Fyodor rises from his chair. He moves towards his small, cozy dwelling, his raven hair ruffled by the Autumn breeze. Perhaps a nice pot of tea would get those creative juices flowing again. ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵ A soft breeze teases your hair and scarf as you walk up the winding stone path, heading deeper into the heart of the forest, an eerie fog cast across the sky. The trees sway their branches in the wind as if greeting you as sunlight filters through the thick branches, showers of yellow and orange descending on your path as you walk. You see an old, rough-looking tabby cat that gives a low mewl before disappearing over the fence like an elegant shadow. You notice a few small cottages scattered around the area. One is at the top of a flight of narrow cobblestone steps. Another is nestled near some thick bushes and trees, almost devouring the structure in its natural embrace.

The thin fence lining the pathway is overgrown with thick vines and small flowers here and there, with tall trees and other flora about, creating an almost fairytale-like appearance. Everything here is quiet and still, aside from the chirps of a few insects and the whistling of birds. You clutch your orange coat closer to your body, the fabric blending in with your environment as excitement runs through every inch of your veins. This was the opportunity you had been searching for! What were the chances that you’d run into a literary agent while heading to the unemployment centre to ask for help? It was as though God himself had lifted an olive branch for you.

The agent, Vivian, had looked at you with such joy when you explained that you were looking for experience helping authors get their works published. You wanted to help however you could, whether that be as an editor, a translator or even a beta reader! You just wanted a way to step into this field finally. You had grown up with a love for books and stories. You wanted to be part of the process to get these books created. “Well, I have just the guy for you,” Vivian had replied, a small smirk on her lips as she handed you her business card with a name written on the back. The name of the novelist she had been helping for the past decade. Fyodor Dostoyevsky.

You had never heard of the man before. Walking along the quiet stone path, heading towards a large archway overgrown with blossoming flowers, you wonder if he wrote under a pen name. You were so excited to meet him! Oh, but you needed to calm down and relax. Don’t make this weird! You walk through the archway, the gentle aroma of the blossoming flowers filling your senses as your eyes fall on the crystal-clear lake before you. The water was a calm, almost mystical blue, with nothing disturbing its perfect surface. It looked like it could have been the subject of an oil painting. You blink, the trance broken as you notice movement. An older gentleman sits at a small outdoor table, a small porcelain teacup in hand. You notice a few strands of grey in his otherwise dark hair, along with the dark crescent moons under his mystifying yet cold purple eyes. You wondered if they were from late nights of writing stories or brainstorming.

He looked more frail than you were expecting. Quite lithe. He reminded you of a scarecrow. He was almost swimming in the dark coat covering his shoulders, even his white scarf seemed to be looped multiple times more around his throat. You tense as his eyes flicker up, meeting yours. The teacup moves back towards the saucer, resting upon it with a soft clink. He lifts one of his hands, beckoning you closer. You come to stand before him, your heart pounding out of nervousness and excitement. This was it. The first day of the rest of your life! Things would only be looking up from here! Before you can speak, the gentleman interrupts you. His thick Russian accent sends a slight shiver down your spine, “You’re the assistant Vivian sent.” He looks you up and down slowly. You can feel the judging look in his eyes as he scans you carefully, “You have no experience in this field and yet you agreed to be my assistant. Fascinating…” You swallow, trying to calm yourself. You almost burst into excited rambles as you begin to speak in a rather rapid tone, your giddiness getting the better of you, “Y-yes sir! You see, it’s always been a dream of–” “Enough.” He says suddenly, shaking his head. Those dark eyes of his stare coldly into yours, your excited heartbeat being frozen still in your chest as he adds, “I do not wish to hear your life story. You are here to do a job. And I expect you to do it well.”

You try and speak up, “Shouldn’t we go inside–” “No. You will work out here,” he cuts you off as he reaches down to a leather bag by the side of his chair, hidden from view. He lifts it, passing it over to you as he speaks, “Within this is the first three chapters of my latest novel. I need you to proofread, edit and translate it into English by the end of the week.” You tense; the end of the week? You supposed you could handle that. What’s the most he could have done? Really? Maybe ten thousand words total? You take out the first group of papers. It looks like he’s stapled each chapter together. There’s no title page yet, so it starts straight on the prologue. One issue becomes apparent very quickly. One big, glaring issue. Fyodor’s handwriting. He had written in fluent Russian from what you could tell. But his handwriting was quite…well, it was cursive? It was hard for you to put into words. The best way you could describe it was like a doctor’s handwriting. “Excuse me, Mr. Dostoyevsky?” You look up from the first page. Fyodor is gazing across the lake, sipping on his tea once more. He doesn’t spare you a glance as you continue, your tone soft and polite, “I’m having some trouble reading your handwriting. I don’t suppose you have a typed version I could reference instead?” His dark eyes slowly turn over to you. You swear you feel the cold of a hundred Winters rush through your body at once, “If you can’t translate it, then I shall call Vivian right now and inform her that sending someone illiterate does not help me in the slightest.”

‘Illiterate??’ You quietly think, feeling both offended and furious. ‘At least my writing doesn’t look like a chicken walked all over my page!’ Biting your tongue, you nod. You would make this work, just to spite this guy. ‘Just think about the end goal. Someone out there is going to love this book. You just need to focus on your goal..’ It’s a daunting task, one you weren’t sure you could achieve. But you were going to put your damnest into this job more so than ever now. ✩

Eyeing his new assistant from across the table, Fyodor’s heart twists in some cold form of rebellion and anger. Vivian didn’t mention that she was sending someone like you. Had he known that, he would have called his overseas friend to go and stay with him while working on this novel that he didn’t even want to write. His eyes scan you, watching as your pen glides across the paper, translating his words carefully. A smug smirk rises onto his lips, noting how many times you stop and start. He notices the way your brows furrow in irritation. You were already struggling. It was only a matter of time before you gave up and admitted defeat, running away from his little piece of heaven with tears in your eyes and a white flag in your hands. He liked that thought. That thought brought him peace. “You’re going to have to work faster than that,” he suddenly says, sounding very proud of himself. You don’t look up, your hands and eyes continuing to move as he adds, “Vivian wants the book by the end of the year. If you can’t handle getting three chapters done by the end of the week, you’re useless to me and any other author.” He notices your jaw clenching. He sees the way you swallow down whatever response you keep to yourself, instead replying with a soft “Yes, Mr. Dostoyevsky.” If he breaks you down enough, will you submit faster? Will that get you away from him faster? He’s silent for a long while, his gaze slowly returning to the scenic view before him. It soothes him and assures him he will soon have his space and peace returned to him. He lifts his teacup, sipping the warm liquid slowly. He just had to bide his time and wait. You would crack eventually. He would make sure of it. ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵

Even though Fyodor treated you coldly and barely even spoke to you, you were intrigued by his writing. It felt like his words had a grip on you, filling you with the urge, that desperate need to know what happens next. The novel was about a young man. From what you had read, he was an extremely lonely man. No matter how Fyodor wrote him, or what scenes he was in, he was always alone, even when surrounded by people. But there was one thing you wouldn’t understand. “If this is supposed to be a romance novel,” you say slowly. “Then where is the other lead? What’s this guy going to romance, himself in the mirror?” “Oh come on now, cut him some slack,” the warm voice of your best friend chimes over the phone. “This is just the first three chapters, right? He’s probably just laying down the groundwork for now. I mean..” She pauses, hesitating before adding in a teasing tone, “The main female lead in that story you read didn’t get a proper romantic interest till like, what, book four?” “Hey, you say that like I wanted her to have one!” You joke, giggling as you walk up the winding stone path on your way to Fyodor’s. It was almost week’s end and despite having a handful of paragraphs left, you were almost done translating the first three chapters. Though it wasn’t an easy task. You had learnt that Fyodor had a habit of rambling in his stories. Sometimes, this made parts more fleshed out. More interesting and intriguing to you. But you didn’t need to know the full backstory of some random man sitting by a lake if he wasn’t going to be important to the story later on. “I want to give him some advice,” you say into the phone, your voice suddenly more serious. You notice the pair of village cats nearby as you pause in place. The younger orange tabby cat attempts to play with the old tabby, the older of the pair growling as he backs away, “But is it my place to give him advice? I mean…he is the author. It’s his story. I have no right to tell him how to write it.”

You hear a hum on the other end of the line as you start moving again, approaching the familiar archway. Then, “You could always try it. But this Fyodor guy doesn’t sound like the type who would take your advice onboard. You’re still so new to this field, your ears are still green!” You chew on your inner cheek, sighing. The chances that Fyodor would listen to you were slim to none. You understood that already. It didn’t take a genius to know where you stood in his regard. But you wanted to help Fyodor make improvements to his book. You look up at the archway, a gentle breeze pushing against your back as you sigh in defeat. “I’ll call you tonight and let you know how badly he chews me out.” You end the call, hiding your phone in your pocket, walking through the archway and into the lush clearing. You were already expecting to be greeted with the typical iciness from the author as you approach his table. “Ah, you’re finally here,” he greets you. His tone isn’t exactly friendly, but it’s not as frosty as you were expecting. There’s a faint hint of hibiscus in the air as the soft breeze draws the scent of his tea of the day to you. Yesterday was ginger. The day before was turmeric. He always had a fresh pot every morning when you arrived. But he never offered you a cup. Regardless, you come to sit at his table, your chair creaking faintly as you reach into your messenger bag, pulling out the last few pages of the first three chapters of his novel before speaking, “I’ve almost finished with these chapters,” you let him know, a flame of warmth in your voice. “I only have a few more paragraphs to go. Though I have to say–” You rummage around your bag, searching for your lucky pen as you continue, “--I quite enjoy your writing. It's captivating. Sometimes I feel like I’m hanging on the end of your every word–” “Flattery will get you nowhere,” Fyodor quickly interjects, deep eyes narrowing at you, the dark hoops under his eyes making him look more menacing. A shiver runs down your spine as he nods at the paper before you, “Get to work and stop wasting your time with idle chatter.”

‘Oh, so I can’t even compliment you?’ You quietly think, your hand wrapping around your lucky pen. You pull the gold and black ballpoint pen out, clicking it to life as you begin working, huffing and puffing in annoyance in your mind, ‘Fine then. Maybe I just won’t speak to you again. God, I hope all writers aren’t this entitled.’ You catch yourself, your fingers caressing the side of the ballpoint pen as the gold edge shines in the early sun. No…you knew all writers weren’t like Fyodor. He was a rotten apple surrounded by batches of bright, red fruit. He wasn’t going to stop you from reaching your dream. He would not stomp that flame out. A silence falls over you and Fyodor. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but it’s not quite pleasant either. It just simply is. You glance up now and then to see Fyodor sipping on his tea, his eyes always drawn to the distance. You scan his expression for a few moments, your pen stopping its movements. He doesn’t notice you looking at him as he stares almost longingly into the distance, his dark eyes shrouded with depths of emotion you struggle to comprehend. But there is one emotion there that is most obvious to you. It’s a look of deep, suffocating loneliness. He stares, as if seeing something in the distance you cannot. He is silent and still. You barely even see his chest rising and falling with his breaths as a gentle breeze tousles his raven hair, as though an invisible hand would be combing through each lock with a careful, almost affectionate touch. Then, as if returning to reality, he blinks, his gaze slowly shifting to meet yours. You stare at one another, frozen in time for just a heartbeat. There is no coldness, no scolding. Just you and him and his sad, lonely eyes. For a moment, you almost decide to ask if he’s okay. Almost.

But as quickly as you see this side of Fyodor, it disappears under frozen blinds and walls of ice. His dark eyes glare at you, hiding the emotions you saw behind a careful shield as he scolds, “Why are you wasting time staring into space? Get back to work.” You shake your head, snapping out of your trance, eyes gliding back to the paper at your hands. You don’t speak a word and merely focus on those last few paragraphs. You knew what you saw. That cold facade cracked for just a moment to reveal something more to this man than you originally thought. There was more to Fyodor than the cold wall you kept smashing again. Your pen glides across the paper, finishing the last few translated lines. You smile to yourself, placing the ballpoint pen down on the garden table before looking up at Fyodor, pride glittering in your eyes. You’d completed the first obstacle he’d put in your way, “I’m done, Mr. Dostoyevsky.” His eyes graze over your smile, the proud glimmer in your eyes, then move down towards the sheet of paper at your fingertips. He turns his body, sitting at the table properly now as he nods at you, “Let me check.” Taking the rest of the pages out of your bag, you slide each completed chapter over to him, your hands carefully caressing the top sheet before passing it over. You were hoping this would prove your value to Fyodor and get him to start treating you…well, like someone trying to help him. Like a proper translator. Like someone actually trying to get his book published. He’s silent for a long while as he flips through the translated chapters. He murmurs to himself every now and then in Russian; sometimes he sounds almost fascinated. Other times, he sounds annoyed. Then, at last, when he’s midway through the second chapter, “This is precisely why I didn’t want to do an international release. My words simply do not translate well into English.” “We could work together to find a suitable substitute for your words in English,” you suggest. The moment his dark eyes pierce into yours, you gulp. “If you wanted to. It won’t be exactly the same but I’m sure we could find a nice middle ground.”

He’s silent for a while as if thinking over your words. Then his eyes travel back to the page, murmuring, “We can try. But I assure you, you won’t be able to translate it perfectly. The English language is incapable of properly translating what I’m attempting to convey–” ‘There he goes again, acting all high and–,’ your grumpy thoughts are interrupted as a thought strikes you like a bolt from the blue. You resist the urge to gasp. Wait…was this the first proper, positive reaction you’ve gotten from Fyodor? He accepted you reaching out a hand to him? Then maybe now was your chance! You gasp a little, suddenly standing up, much to both yours and Fyodor’s surprise. He looks up at you, taken off guard as you suddenly blurt out, “Um! In that case, I had some other advice I wanted to give to! It’s in regards to that man you focus the second chapter on!” “I don’t know if he has any significance to the plot or not, but is it really necessary to have the last twenty pages focused just on his backstory?" "Because it seems like you could use these pages to develop the male lead further or even bring in the female lead! Are you intending for him to have a larger role or–” “You dare to have the audacity to lecture me on how to write my novel?” Fyodor’s cold voice cuts you off, his eyes narrowing at you dangerously. You can almost feel your voice being stolen by his anger, as he continues you glare daggers at you so sharp, that you feel that little shred of confidence and pride you’d finally gained being ripped to shreds before you. “You translate three chapters and that’s it? You’re suddenly an expert in the writing world, are you?” He scoffs, laughing at you mockingly. He tosses the translated pages onto the table, his eyes continuing to stare into your own shocked eyes. His voice grows harsher as he suddenly begins to speak in his native tongue.

“Сверхуважаемая госпожа, я хочу напомнить вам, что ваше право на собственное мнение не обязывает меня слушать этот бред. Молчание - великий талант. Мой совет вам: если у вас будут мысли, держите их при себе; в наше время умные люди молчат, а не разговаривают. Я вас здесь не нанял для авторского выступления, так что будьте любезны, работайте и не стройте из себя Александром Сергеевичем Пушкиным.” *

He stands suddenly, leaving you stunned in place, unable to find your voice. You watch in stunned horror as he storms towards his cottage, tucked and hidden within the wilderness of the trees and shrubbery. He enters it, slamming the door behind him before you can utter another word. You feel both stunned and horrified. You had no idea what he had just said to you but why did it feel like you just lost your job? ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵ “You should have cut him some slack.”

“Do you really think I need to hear that right now?”

“You know it wasn’t your place to criticize him like that–”

“I know…I don’t know what came over me…” You sigh heavily, sinking into the thick duvet on your bed as your heart aches within the tight confines of your chest. The sound of the city beyond your apartment blares outside. The distant siren of an ambulance. The loud yells of passerbys. A dog’s loud barks as the scent of cigarette smoke and fumes waft through your apartment window.

It wasn’t the classiest apartment, very far from it, but it was the only place you could afford right now with the allowance you were receiving from the government, along with what little savings you had left. You sigh, running a hand through your messy hair, “I genuinely didn’t mean to do it. I just got so excited. I felt like he was finally accepting me into his world…” You lower your voice, sounding more upset. “But now I’ve gone and ruined it all…not even a week in...”

You lift your other hand, holding up your gold and black ballpoint pen once more. You twirl it between your fingers, Fyodor’s harsh expression still vivid in the back of your mind. You felt like you really offended him. You hadn’t meant to. You just wanted to help. But you understood how your words had come across as hurtful. You didn’t know the story Fyodor was plotting out. You didn't know if this man was going to play a pivotal role and yet you–

You hear a loud crunch on the other end of the line, causing you to wince and yelp in surprise, your thoughts broken through instantly, “Ack! Trixie! Hold the phone away next time!” “Mrm! Sorry girl, but look-” Trixie goes silent for a few moments while she finishes chewing whatever she’s eating. Then, she speaks again, sounding quite calm as she gives you her advice, “--I think you owe him an apology. This guy is not only your senior career wise, but he’s the literal author of the book you’re translating.”

You frown as she goes on, your eyes glued to your ballpoint pen as the streetlight outside touches it, making the golden parts gleam, “What kind of things does he like? You know, besides sitting and staring at the lake all day.”

You think over Trixie’s words, eyes sparkling with the golden hue coming from your pen. Fyodor hadn’t spoken to you much these past few days since you began working as his translator. He greeted you, scolded you to start work and then sat in silence until the day’s end. Did he like anything besides staring at the lake and–

Suddenly, you sit up in your bed, and your loose, white nightgown drops over your frame, the old springs of the bed squeaking softly. That was what you could get him to apologize! You would need to get some research in tonight and wake up early to head to the store tomorrow. You were sure there was a speciality store for this type of thing on the other side of town.

Moments before you’re about to hang up, you get a second call. Your eyes widen as you read the name on the screen; Vivian. Your heart leaps into your throat. “Sorry Trix, I have to go,” you quickly say, rising from your bed to move over to your kitchen counter where your laptop was sitting, charging. “I’ll call you when I can.”

“Keep me updated on your situation with your author man!” Trixie manages to chime back before you end the call, picking up Vivian’s seconds later.

“Yes? Hello, Vivian?” You quickly answer, holding your phone with your cheek while typing into your laptop’s keyboard, searching through the specific results you had pulled up.“I’m surprised you’re still up. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised; all those involved in the literary world seem to be night owls.” She chuckles, before clearing her throat.

You scroll through the results page as Fyodor’s agent keeps speaking to you, “I presume you know why I’m calling. I just got off the phone to Fyodor regarding the…incident.” The incident…

You cringe at it being referred to like that. Your heartbeat picks up as you stand up straight, a deeply apologetic tone in your voice, “I know, I know, I was in the wrong. It’s Mr. Dostoyevsky’s book and he’s free to write however he pleases. I just got a little head of myself and–!”

“Easy,” Vivian whispers soothingly. It almost feels like she’s there with you, patting your shoulder and assuring you it's okay. “Fyodor is still a tad…appalled at your behaviour, but I have managed to convince him to give you another chance due to how efficiently and well you translated his first chapters.” A gasp escapes your throat; before your hopes can get too high, she quickly adds in a tone that reminds you of a stern teacher, “But this is your last chance. He’s said if you step out of line again, you’re out.”

“No…no, I understand perfectly!” You run a hand through your messy hair, resisting the urge to jump and dance around in glee. Oh thank God, you didn’t lose this chance! Your gaze flickers back towards the laptop screen, the results still silently waiting for you. You knew you still had to apologize properly for what you had done.

“I promise, neither of you will regret this.” You begin writing down an address frantically on a sticky note, looking up the coordinates to the location on the other side of town. You click your tongue, planning everything out in your head. Yes, if you wake up earlier, you will have the time to swing by and get everything ready before visiting Fyodor tomorrow morning without being late.

Suddenly, Vivian’s voice breaks through the silence, cutting you out of your thoughts, “I shouldn’t be saying this but do me a favour, would you?” She pauses for a moment. You focus more on her as she adds, “Cut Fyodor some slack.”

“Wh-what?” Is all you manage to breathe out. Everyone keeps telling you to do that. Were you in an echo chamber? Or did everyone else just see something you couldn't? She continues, sighing heavily and you swear you hear a pen being placed down, judging from the gentle tap you hear on her side of the call.

“It isn’t my tale to tell, but I will inform you that Fyodor has been through a lot as of late.” You frown deeply as you hear this. “This is his returning novel after taking some time away from his career, so all I ask is that you show him the same patience you would want to be shown.”

Your mind stews those words over silently as you chew the inside of your cheek. The novelist you were working with was an enigma. He was more mysterious than the deepest pits of the ocean, and more closed off than a crime scene. You only had his name. His career. And the gift of being able to read his captivating story. Well, part of it.

Just who was Fyodor exactly? And what had he gone through to make him the way he is now?

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵

The sky was overcast and angry as you began to make your trek towards Fyodor’s quaint cottage. You sprint along the stone path as the sky rumbles like a beast, growling as the clouds light up, warning you of the upcoming downpour that is about to begin. Clutching the bouquet you’d bought close, along with the small gift bag, you run through the archway.

The usual clear, mirror-like surface of the lake was black and menacing, nowhere near as picturesque as it had been for the entire week. No birds were singing. Branches waved violently in the strong winds that buffeted against them, sending spirals of leaves cascading around, like mini tornados of color.

You barely manage to hold onto your bouquet and gift, grimacing as you notice Fyodor isn’t sitting at the usual spot today. You look towards his cottage, the trees and shrubbery around it rustling violently against the strong gusts as well. They almost look like they’re clinging onto the cottage to keep themselves rooted. You catch a glimpse of that old tabby cat sprinting up to the door, his paws reaching up and scratching at the timber desperately and at once, it opens.

You see Fyodor, wrapped in a thicker cloak than normal along with what seems to be an old ushanka on his head, keeping his face warm. He opens the door to let the feline inside, cloak dragging on the floor behind him like a cape. Rubbing against the Russian’s legs, the tabby darts inside, away from the rough weather. But he doesn’t follow the feline; his dark eyes lift, meeting yours across the way.

He watches as the wind tousles your long hair as though playing with the elegant strands, your bright, vibrant coat of orange a stark contrast against the blackening sky but matching perfectly with the leaves falling from rustling trees around you. He sees the way your brown scarf aggressively sways in the violent breeze as the sky growls a final warning. He says nothing as he watches you. Is he waiting for you? His eyes scan you once, twice…it’s like he’s taking you in for the first time.

Like this, you look like a single glowing ember in the darkness of the world, seconds away from being snuffed out and devoured by the shadows.

Not wanting to be left out in this downpour, you sprint towards Fyodor, a loud crack echoing across the sky as it lights up, lighting striking somewhere in the distance as you pick up the pace. Without a word still, he steps aside, letting you run in just as it begins to storm. Cold droplets pour from the sky as it roars, another loud crack is heard in the distance. Rain begins to patter loudly on the roof of Fyodor's humble home, almost cleansing the land.

You hear the door close, along with a lock being turned, clicking into place. You turn to face Fyodor, noticing that the room is not illuminated by the bulbs hanging overhead but by candlelight. There are candleholders along the wall, lighting the hallway in a warm, welcoming light. Flickers of yellow dance across Fyodor’s face, his dark purple eyes practically invisible in the dark of the cottage.

Gripping the bouquet tighter, you hesitate to hand it over. Then, at last, you do, presenting the brilliant bouquet with a gentle hand. “Here,” you say softly, almost silently. “These are for you.”

You watch as his calculating eyes trace along each chosen flower; the blue hyacinths to the white orchids, to the few lilies of the Valley. He hesitates to accept them as his eyes turn back to you. He must be waiting to hear her apology out loud, “I’d like to say I’m sorry for overstepping.” The plastic around the bouquet crinkles as you grip it tighter.

“I am both your junior and not an author,” you begin, fighting back down every inch of your pride to make sure your apology comes across as genuine. “I had no right to tell you how to write your story. I’m only here to translate it into English so I’m sorry. It will not happen again.” You also present your other hand, holding the gift bag out to Fyodor. “I hope you can forgive me and we can start fresh.”

He eyes the gift bag, reaching for it first. He peers inside, hiding his surprise behind his cold eyes as he notices the variety of tea leaves you’ve purchased for him. These are all high-quality leaves from a teashop on the other side of town. Passionfruit drop. Cream black tea. Autumn spice. He looks up at you, raising a brow curiously.

You squirm under his gaze, anxiously waiting for a reply. Would he accept the apology? Would he not? It felt like time was frozen as you and Fyodor stared at one another, his deep, purple eyes peering into the very depths of your soul as if trying to see if you were truly sorry in the very pit of your heart.

Then he moves past you. You feel your heartbeat freeze in your chest and then–

“Come along. I will brew some tea while you begin work translating chapter four.”

Warmth spreads across your chest instantly, your heart fluttering in your chest, a smile breaking out on your face as you turn, following Fyodor through the candlelit hall towards what you presumed to be the kitchen, your apology bouquet in hand.

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you were both glad Fyodor had seemingly accepted your apology…and excited to read the fourth chapter of his novel. Even if he rambled on for the next forty pages and didn’t progress the plot. Your ankle boots click against the old wooden flooring as you hurry after the author.

✩ You were an enigma to Fyodor. Despite the cold walls he had placed securely around himself and the distance he had tried to keep from you, you kept coming back. Did this job really mean that much to you or were you just that desperate for money?

Or perhaps you were here for other reasons.

The kettle’s loud whistle shakes Fyodor from his web of thoughts. He takes it off the stove, bringing it over to his preferred ceramic teapot, decorated with painted pink carnations, filling it with the boiling water before moving on to inserting the mesh tea infuser, full of some of the new leaves you brought him.

As the aromatic smell of spices fills the air, he turns his thoughtful eyes to where you sit at his dining table, reading over the fourth chapter of his novel. He sees your smile behind the pages. The way your eyes gleam as you read and reread paragraphs. It even looked like you were no longer struggling to read his handwriting.

He felt warmth stirring in his heart. Fyodor had seen from reviews and heard from Vivian that his works were well-beloved, but seeing you smile and the joy in your eyes was something else entirely. It stirred something deep within his soul.

You actually did enjoy his story. You weren’t just going along with the crowd or agreeing with a friend because it was a popular piece. You were genuinely enjoying his work. He feels his heart pound for just a second before he turns away, focusing on the tea.

With slender hands, he pours the rich, orange liquid into the prepared porcelain teacups, the fragrance growing even stronger in the room. Between the sound and smell of the pouring rain and terrifying thunder and the earthy, aromatic smell of the Autumn spice tea, Fyodor felt his shoulders relaxing as he brought the two teacups over to the dining table, just in time to hear you gasp quietly.

Ah, you must’ve gotten to the part where the female lead is fleetingly introduced. For a moment, Fyodor finds himself smiling.

Dividers: @/saradika * Translation:  Dear Madam, I want to remind you that your right to your own opinion does not oblige me to listen to this nonsense. Silence is a great talent. My advice to you: if you have thoughts, keep them to yourself; Nowadays, smart people are silent, not talking. I didn’t hire you here for an author’s speech, so be kind, work and don’t pretend to be Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin.

#bungou stray dogs #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader

[nanakiwii]

STARDEW VALLEY HANNIGRAM???

What the actual-?!

Really????

The voices won.

I regret nothing.

---------

Prison was boring.

Being locked up, as Hannibal expected, was all about routine and schedule. You wake up, eat, shower and shit when they tell you to. Good behavior was the key to bring back some of his old life pleasures: books and music, for example, were some of those achievements he earned.

But, Hannibal sensed he still needed something, or, someone to fill this void he called existence. After three years of isolation and intense silence, Hannibal couldn't help but to dig in every interaction he shared with his beloved.

In the time while they were apart, Will - somehow - managed to get engaged and marry a faceless woman and, as much as it hurt Hannibal, he couldn't deny he was happy to see Will as desperate as himself to try to easy the pain of their distance.

The lack of human contact didn't do great to his temperament and Hannibal knew we was becoming more "sassy" as days passed. He was bored. The bliss of the attention he received by the media was gone for ages. He found every assumption of his "diagnose" wrong and very dumb. "If this is the proof of human brightness, then we're destined to live in darkness" he thought.

It was this boredom that made him poke Alana Bloom until he discovered a way to taunt Will and to end his sickening loneliness.

Stardew Valley.

Apparently, it was farming game he could play with friends and family. And who was Will if not a friend and part of his family? Well, Hannibal guessed he had to find a way to play this exquisite video game with his precious Will.

---------

~ Inspired by this horrendous comic I drew on the printscreen brush tool a long time ago while I was sleep deprived and very very bored.

Text:

Will: "What is this game about?"

Hannibal: "I suppose it's a farm game, Will."

Will: "And, why you wanna play with me?"

Hannibal: "Well, Alana commented about it, and I'm curious."

Will: "I don't believe you."

Hannibal: "Come on, Will. I'm locked and bored. Help me out."

Will: "Fine."

Later...

Will *behind a computer screen*: "I still don't know how you manage to have those things."

Hannibal *also behind a computer screen*: "I'm a very behaved prisoner."

Will: "..."

Will: "No, look, let's just play."

[Stardew Valley home screen]

Hannibal: "Soo much hair options."

Will: "Shut up."

Hannibal: "What do I put on 'favorite thing?'"

Hannibal: "Such a hard question!"

Will: "I wrote 'dogs'"

Hannibal: "Yeah, I suppose you did."

Will: "You want me to ask, don't you?"

Hannibal: "Ask what?"

Will: "What did you write?"

Hannibal: "Oh, hoho... You would be surprised."

Will: "If you say 'pork' I'll kill you."

Hannibal: "Then, you better pick a knife."

Will: "Fuck you and your cannibal jokes, Hannibal!"

Hannibal: "Me and my jokes."

[Hannibal's character building screen:

Name: Hannibal M.D

Farm Name: Hospital

Favorite Thing: Will Graham ]

End.

AGAIN: SORRY ABOUT THE MAJOR GRAMMAR AND ENGLISH ERRORS. I WAS HALF ASLEEP HALF ALIVE AND I NEEDED SOME CRACK FIC TO KEEP GOING!

I wanted to post it somewhere because I keep laughing alone about what I made and wanted to share with other people.

The art is shit, but someday I'll make something better (I probably won't. Will I?)

#fanart #hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #murder husbands #hannibal nbc #will graham x hannibal lecter #doodle #alternate universe #fanfic #crack fic #the voices won #somebody help me #i really need to sleep #grammar errors because I English is not my first language #what the lack of Hannibal s4 makes us do #somebody help the fannibals #help will Graham #stardew valley

[finnlongman]

okay but how old is that text and why does it immediately make me think of the circularity of ? idk something but the idea of cú chulainn being fer diad's charioteer before laeg is cú's and the possibility of switching of roles and growing into something you once served and understanding the position the other is in. different angles and perceptions in this totally fictional headspace of mine but it sure is tasty (sadly don't know the texts well enough tho. but i would love to write a tragic character-driven poem about the charioteer and the love for his hero, growing and changing and forming new bonds and understanding the position of the other. maybe seeing the role of the hero and becoming it and understanding what that means. how you think this will and and how inevitable it is. i love you but i can't change this road we're on. anyway. as i said, i don't know the texts well enough, but i like this idea)

RIGHT

It's one of the independent versions of Comrac Fir Diad, preserved in a manuscript from the 1610s (I'm not sure if there's been any linguistic dating of the text itself, so I don't know if it's the same age as its manuscript or older). So, fairly late, obviously, but earlier than many of the manuscripts of CFD. The word used is ara, which can just mean attendant, but is far more commonly used to mean charioteer, including within this text (to describe Láeg and Idh). Every other version of CFD that I've looked at uses forbfer or similar ('serving-man') to describe Cú Chulainn's subservient role during their training, so this divergence is... fascinating.

It's funny, actually, because when I wrote To Run With The Hound in 2018 (the draft I will be cannibalising to write a new book with for release in 2027), I actually did have Cú Chulainn occasionally serving as Fer Diad's charioteer during their training together, so that they could get up to Chariot Shenanigans together; I had no idea there was precedent.

Anyway, the group chat has been yelling about this somewhat. It is JUICY. So much potential for doubling and mirrors and role swapping and progression and FEELINGS.

#answered #anon good sir #comrac fir diad

[sanjipussyindulgence]

i know i get pissed about the yamato gender discourse/general transphobia in the one piece fandom at least once a month... but how do you read this panel and miss the point. freedom is such an important concept in the series and, as we see from the newkamas, that includes the freedom to identify as whatever gender you want. you are actively ignoring and disrespecting one piece's values when you misgender yamato, kiku, or any other character. i hate people.

#one piece #transphobia mention #yamato #yamato son of kaido #ivankov #inazuma #one piece yamato #o-kiku #kikunojo #bon clay #like OBVIOUSLY one piece has had some problems in the past with how the queer characters were depicted. #but i think its important to remember that oda is a middle aged cishet japanese man who wrote a majority of that stuff in the 2000s/2010s #of COURSE theres gonna be issues #overall i think that the queer characters in one piece are positively depicted and its because of this message here #so when people dont get it i wanna rip their heads off

[kenjo-arts]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR MAGICAL BOY AU FOR THE SBI I NEED ALLLLLL THE TEA

This probably doesn't explain anything because im terrible at putting words to my ideas but here's SBI in the AU

and this is something about Philza's conclave

there's also more info about SBI specifically in the character pages I made for them :D

#au: magical boy #the au does deviate alot from regular mad.oka with like the potential life span if they survive and that being a magical girl isnt girl onl #the question marks for the ages in the last drawing is cause idk specifically when i want these things to take place #recently made sams magical design so i had to include him :D #if this explains nothign um. sorry the au is cooking but its not fully done yet. theres alot of aspects that are underdeveloped #or not worked alot on yet. tho theres general stuff thats pretty set in stone. but most of it isnt. anything i wrote here could change #if i get a better idea. im still idea storming the au :D #theres also parts im keeping *secret* kinda cause im waiting on when i get around to doing more character pages #dsmp au #hellstreak #sbi #c!philza #c!tommy #c!wilbur #c!techno #c!bad #c!sam #c!dream #kenjos art

[robbed-ghost]

First, they discontinue super sons issues, bringing it back for a Halloween special edition and then ghost.

Then, they have Jon age up and date immediately in time for pride, no warning.

Then, he’s Superman.

Then, we get a super sons movie where he’s 10 again (?)

Then, they have Jon and Dick team up as a protege-mentee situation—not bad! Just…not quite the character we’ve just established. Not quite Jon

Then, they have Jon and Damian babysitting wonder woman’s daughter for *checks books* 7 years????? Making Damian and Jon 21 and 24 respectively??? Ok…?

Then, they do Beastworld, and Nightwing comics, AND Superman comics AND Wonder Woman issues with Jon in ALL OF THEM at the SAME TIME and looking vastly different in all of them, with vastly different characterizations, none of them solid, consistent, or acknowledging the fact that he’s been trapped inside a volcano and travelling the multiverse and having a boyfriend all in the same breath.

What am I supposed to be believing right now, DC.

#what am I supposed to take away from this other than Jon from their greedy stupid hands #they don’t know what to do with him or how to characterize him and it’s so so sad #his parents are CLARK KENT and LOIS LANE and he was the perfect coming of age character. so much potential. #he could be smart and sly and emotional and kind all in one in canon IN CANONNNNN #we’ve already shown it’s possible in the comics before super sons w him and his family #dc #jonathan kent #salt #super sons #trinity #girrrllll I am reading this back a few days later and when I tell you I was so mad 💀 #i wrote this right after reading the newest Trinity comic and seeing Jon confirm Damian’s not straight IN A THROWAWAY JOKE HED NEVER SAY??!! #like sir. you do not speak like that but also even if you did the writers should do better to not just jump to that #anyway.

[godsfavoritescientist]

Building off of what I wrote in my fic "Sparks," I'm really compelled by the idea of Ford genuinely no longer being interested in sailing around in a boat with Stan by the time they were seniors in high school.

I like the idea of it not being just a symptom of the resentment that had been building between them, nor it being a dream of Ford's that only paled in comparison to west coast tech, but it being a genuine loss of interest on Ford's end. I think it complicates things even further in some really juicy ways.

Like, imagine going through high school slowly losing more and more interest in the dream you've shared with your twin and only friend ever since you were little kids. How do you break it to him? How do you explain it to him without making it sound like a rejection of him? Without it making him hate you?

How do you explain it without it feeling like a spit in the face to all the hard work he's put into a plan that started out as a way of him comforting you by telling you "it doesn't matter what people say about you, you're going to be an adventurer who sails away into the sunset and never has to hear their mockery ever again, and there will be babes and treasure and heroism, and then they'll all see how cool you really are!"

And all through high school you think to yourself, "he's going to move on to more realistic dreams any day now, and then I won't have to say anything about it!" But no matter how many times you mention something else he could do with his life that he seems interested in, or bring up the challenging logistics of traveling around long-term in a boat, he sounds just as committed to the childhood dream as ever, and completely oblivious to how apprehensive you sound.

So resentment grows, little by little. Because that's easier than confronting the soul-crushing levels of guilt that are building up inside of you, every time you don't take an opportunity to tell him you don't want to do the plan anymore. You don't have a single person in your life who modeled how to have difficult conversations for you. As far as you know, having this conversation with Stan would crush him into tiny little pieces and then he would hate you forever, and you can't stand the idea of losing the only friend you've ever had.

So tensions grow. A lack of interest turns into a bitter resentment that, if you were really being honest with yourself, is directed more at yourself than it is at Stan.

And then the falling-out happens, and it seems like you were proven right. Stan hates you now, and he's never going to forgive you for giving up on his dream. But two can play that game, so you try to hate him too. Because if you hate him too, then maybe it won't hurt as much that he never came back. That he never even turned up at school, or by the boat, or in through your bedroom window in the middle of the night. He knows what dad's like, and how he says impulsive exaggerated things when he's angry, and haven't you both dealt with his harsh words countless times before and been able to dust yourselves off and joke about it later? So why isn't he back at home, joking with you about how absurd your dad acted that night, being impossible and belligerent about ruining your dream, but at least now you're even, because you've ruined his dream too.

-

And now imagine you find out he risked the lives of everyone in existence to bring you back, right after you had accepted your fate was to die killing Bill. It would be terrifying and confusing and infuriating. If he cared so much, why didn't he do something to reconnect with you sooner? Why did he ignore you in favor of trying to make it big without you? Why didn't he take the infinitely safer and simpler action of reaching out to you without you having to track down his address and send a desperate plea for help? You were convinced that he didn't care enough to bother with you unless you had an important enough reason for him to come. But even then, he thought your plans were stupid. He didn't want anything to do with you, not even with the world at stake.

Did he save your life out of guilt? Does he pity you that much? It doesn't add up with what he did in the decade leading up to shoving you into the portal. And the dissonance between the version of him in your head that hates you, and the man who held out his arms to welcome you back to your home dimension, is so strong that you feel like you're being lied to again, like you're back in the depths of gaslighting and manipulation that Bill put you through, even though there's no way that's what Stan is trying to do... right? You can't figure it out, so you run away from it. You don't want to know the answer to whether or not Stan hates you, because you don't know which answer would hurt more, so you try to make him hate you more than ever, because at least then you would know for sure how he feels.

And in the end, after he sacrifices his memories for you, and for the world, things seem clearer. The layers upon layers of confusion and anger and hurt seem to have washed away like drawings in the sand, leaving behind the simple truth: that you two had an argument, and didn't move past it for forty years, and despite everything you put each other through, you both still want to re-connect.

So you sail away in a boat together.

And at first, it's wonderful. It's exactly what you want. It feels like an apology to Stan, and a thank-you for saving the world, and a once-in-a-lifetime chance to heal the rift between you two, and it's good to be back on earth, and you wonder why you ever doubted the dream you two once had.

But then, after the first long journey you spend on the sea together, when you get back home to dry land, Stan is already talking about planning your next adventure out on the open sea. He recaps every adventure you had on the first trip, over and over again, and he wants to chat with you all through the morning and long into the night, and you don't have the words to explain to yourself that you don't have enough social battery for this, and suddenly you're slipping back into the horrifyingly familiar feeling of Stan being overbearing and needing space from him and how could you think that? How could you think that about him after everything he's done for you and everything he's forgiven you for? But the longer this goes on, the more you realize that you still don't want to spend the rest of your life sailing around with Stan. It's great fun in moderation, but the idea of your whole life revolving around Stan and going on adventures with Stan and being in a boat with Stan with no time to be by yourself thinking about your own things and figuring out your own dreams makes your skin crawl with a claustrophobic kind of panic that you still don't know how to put into words forty years after the first time this feeling grabbed you by the throat and ruined your friendship with Stanley.

But the first time this happened, it nearly ruined his life forever. You can't let yourself feel this. You don't feel this. You're happy to spend the rest of your life fulfilling Stan's lifelong dream, and making up for the time you crushed his dream, and sure, maybe he crushed your dream once too, and maybe it would be nice for him to support your dreams like you're now doing for him, but you can't say that. He saved the universe, and it would be horrible and ungrateful and cruel for you to try to voice these feelings, especially when you don't know how to voice your feelings without it making other people feel like you twisted a knife into their gut. So you try to pretend the feeling isn't there.

You go out on a boat with Stan again. You planned out another incredible journey together, and this should be fun, and you should be happy about this, but the unspoken feeling you shoved as far down in yourself as it could possibly go is eating you alive. The worst part? Stan is starting to notice. You have never been good at hiding your emotions. The trick to it has always been to convince yourself you don't feel it at all, and not think about it, and that has always worked like a charm. But whenever the emotion claws its way back up to the forefront of your mind, you can tell Stan knows something is wrong. So you can't even give him the happy ending he deserves. You can't even convince him that you want to be here on the open seas forever with him, like he deserves. And you keep trying and trying to hide it, but Stan keeps asking in roundabout ways, like "You're being awfully quiet, sixer," and "whats that look on your face?" and eventually it comes exploding out of you like a shaken-up soda bottle dropped on its cap.

And then it's like you're back at home in New Jersey again, standing in the living room while dad grabs Stanley by the shirt. It all comes pouring out of you, in the worst possible way, with the worst possible phrasing, like a pandora's box of monstrousness, and Stan tries to fight back against the sting of your words, but you're made out of acid and you're burning through him and you can see it on his face, and there's never any coming back from this, not this time, you'll just have to either jump into the ocean or become a monster forever, so Stan can hate you more easily again, and-

-and at the end of the outburst, you're still on a boat in the middle of nowhere in the ocean with your brother, in dangerous waters, and you have things to do to keep the boat running smoothly.

You can't run away from him. He can't run away from you. You're stuck here for at least a couple more weeks, even if you turned around and sailed back towards shore right away.

-

And the thing that compels me so much here, despite how unbelievably angsty it all is, is that it sets up a situation wherein the Stans might end up forced to actually address the decades of resentment and confusion and wanting-to-reconnect-throughout-it-all that they thought they could gloss over and heal with enough time spent adventuring together on a boat. They might end up forced to actually address the crux of the issue that drove them apart in the first place: Ford wanting a little more space to feel like his own person, and to feel like he's able to have his own dreams, too.

It wouldn't happen easily, nor right away, but if they were stuck together on a little boat in the middle of nowhere surrounded by magical creatures they have to protect each other from in order to make it back home alive, then after they had one fight where they brought up all the things they silently agreed to never bring up again, it would probably happen many more times, and each time it would leave them both angrier at each other than ever, until eventually something honest slipped through amidst all the saying-anything-except-what-they-mean bickering. And once enough of these honest moments slipped through, then they would have a thread to tug on to start to unravel the gargantuan knot of their decades of unresolved conflicts.

And then, eventually, maybe Stan could learn that he can have a good friendship with his brother without needing to be glued to him at the hip, and Ford needing a certain amount of alone time doesn't mean he dislikes him or wants to abandon him, and Ford could learn that he can be honest and have a meaningful connection with someone without it driving them away and making them hate him.

#succumbed to the stan twins angst visions and wrote 2000 words about this #ford pines #ford meta #this turned into a character analysis that almost reads like a fic #godswriting #<- i need to change my writing tag to this #something bothers me a little bit about the solution to their conflict being 'ford appreciates stan more now so he is now fine with- #-boat adventures with stan'. to me it leaves the initial conflict of 'he doesnt want to do that anymore' unresolved #obviously you could easily argue that ford never stopped wanting to go on boat adventures with stan and he just couldnt justify it to- #-himself when compared to the opportunity at west coast tech. but that has one less layer of conflict #compared to the possibility that he truly was not interested in boat adventures anymore. ESPECIALLY if its a manifestation of him #feeling suffocated by the whole dynamic-twins-duo thing #its normal to start wanting a little bit more space especially at that age. to want to have space to figure out who you are #the healthy thing would have been them talking about it and figuring out a compromise. like 'when ford needs space he can spend a few hours #-alone without stan being worried the whole time that it means ford hates him' and 'we still spend x amount of time working on the boat and #-we still chat on the way to and from school every day and hang out at the beach on weekends' #like of fucking course it was never about hating stan or about wanting to get away from him because of who he is as a person! #he literally just wanted to have a little bit of breathing room to be his own separate person. he just didn't know how to put it into words #I really think the crux of it all was them not knowing how to navigate that balance between independence and identity while staying close #so ford misattributing/reducing that feeling to 'I dont have the exact same dream as stan anymore. why does he still have that dream. oh no #feels like a good way of giving that conflict a tangible aspect to it thats easy for the stans to point at and talk about as a way of- #-alluding to the REAL core of the conflict between them. #and of course the show never says 'they sail around the world for the rest of their lives 24/7' so it's not like it Actually Conflicts with #-my interpretation of the conflict and how it should be resolved. but since its the last thing we see happen between them when theyre given #their happy ending. I feel compelled to say 'hey I know them living in the shack together and traveling in a boat every single year sounds- #-really fun and like a satisfying ending but I think they should have a Little Bit more space from eachother than that. Hanging out almost- #-daily but not literally being in the same house and same boat for the rest of their lives. bc if stan was ok with ford asking for that- #-little bit of space and if ford didnt panic and isolate himself from everyone whenever he needs like one hour of alone time? that would- #-feel like a big piece of the puzzle fitting into place for their conflict resolution and growth as characters. to me #and I think they deserve to have all the tied-up-loose-ends and resolved-conflicts and character-growth in the world.

[anewgayeveryday]

Today's LGBT+ Character is;

Jake English from Homestuck-Bisexual

Requested by Anon

Status: Alive

#Jake English #Homestuck #bisexual #lgbt #character of the day #mlm #web comic #requested #fandoms I'm in #((I wrote dirkjake oneshots ages ago when I was in highschool and way too young to be writing that stuff)) #((if anyone finds my AO3 account and old homestuck fics no you don't)) #((but also if anyone is interested just pm me and I will drop the link)) #alive #LGBTQueue

[triviareads]

I'd like to take another moment to shame The Gilded Age and The Buccaneers for creating the lamest dukes possible

#the funny thing is apparently joanna shupe is a gilded age fan #when she could prob write circles around whoever is coming up with these personalities for these characters #and certainly wrote a vastly superior duke #who i now measure all tragically poor dukes relying on solely their looks and charm against #the gilded age #the buccaneers

[thelaurenshippen]

you guys you guys you GUYS!!!!!

LOOK!!!!

can you BELIEVE!?!?!? this CAST!?!?!? obviously I love Misha, Melissa, and Karan with my whole heart and can't wait to hear more of what they've done this season (what I've heard so far has me flopping on the ground like a fish) but holy SHIT, Alan Tudyk and Tricia Helfer??? are you KIDDING me?!?

I was a very nerdy (read: lonely) teen and spent HOURS watching and rewatching Firefly and Battlestar Galactica, two of my favorite sci-fi shows of all time. to have these two actors saying words that I wrote is a dream come true!!!!

catch up on season 1 now!!

#bridgewater #misha collins #alan tudyk #tricia helfer #melissa ponzio #karan soni #aaron mahnke #bridgewater cast #also #as a big santa clarita diet fan #i am TICKLED that we got alan to replace nathan #there's something beautifully cyclical about that #also also #the legend tripper is my new fave character of the bunch #and I wrote the role without anyone in mind - without any gender or age or type or anything #so that we could just cast someone that we were excited about #and aaron and I are both HUGE fans of tricia #that when it came time to cast that role it was like...oh well OBVIOUSLY #and I'm soooooo excited

[dreevehere]

wishing I was confident enough to post my thoughts on things without the need for a visual or cut off

Anyways I need to say the entire main party of ISAT is the rep I really needed to see… I hold ALL of them so incredibly close to my heart…

I’m going to talk more in the tags but please play this game, it’s worth it, im only on act 3 so surely it’ll get better :^)

(I reached max tag limit LMAO???)

#dramble #isat spoilers #please play this game it’s amazing the characters are so good and worth it please trust me #im about to spoiling a few things in the tags #so DO NOT look in here if you’re planning to play the game #prommy? okay ty #ISABEAU??? YOU! WHY ARE YOU ME?? #no because before I knew about the game I had a whole thing last month where I made an obituary for MY YOUNGER SELF #I wrote about killing them myself #with my bare hands #while I don’t doubt my experience is shared that is such a specific thing that it hit me like 5 trucks #when he was talking about being shy and nerdy with big glasses and clean braids #when he spoke about his shyness and inability to ask a classmate for a PEN #to thinking he was content with living his life that way but then realizing that NO he did not want that #to growing and changing into the person he wish he knew at a young age #it’s. I think about that a lot and seeing someone in media share that very same experience is just. wow. #NOW MIRABELLE!!!! #AMAZING AROACE REP #SHE IS SO AROACE YALL #GOD SHE IS SO GOOD!!!!! #adorable sweet girl!! she loves the idea of romance!! but she doesn’t want it for herself!!! #there are people like her!!! and I love them!! #you can be nice to people sweet to people love them care about them #but still be unable to reciprocate any more than platonic love to them and that’s OKAY #ITS VALID!!! #also siffrin being ace as well!!!! #god I am so seen in such a good way #im going to cut myself off now but my shorter thoughts on the others are: #Bonnie is such a well written child character #ODILE MIXED RACE YAAAAAA

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

No actually it would be funny and also thematically appropriate if fionna and simon started dating. This is so fucking funny to me

#random thoughts #adventure time #it would represent simon accepting the ice king part of himself which still lingers in his brain #both because ice king wrote fionna and cake and because ice king was. weirdly fixated on fionna being in love with him in her first episode #also guy who wanted the world to be more normal x girl who wants the world to be more magical. is this anything #also it WOULD be weird for finn but not in like a 'my dad is dating someone my age and also is exactly like me' way #like simon and finn are peers. he is not finn's dad. #also simon is literally double fionna's age. he COULD be her dad age-wise. #god i really want to make my version of fionna i hate when gender swaps do literally nothing for the character #like the whole reason marceline was with her mom was because she gave birth to her so how did lee end up with his dad in the og show #deadbeat dad vs deadbeat mom guysssssss #ANYWAY literally everyone would think this is weird including simon so he wouldn't pursue it

[boasamishipper]

we’ve been hearing for a while now how tom cruise has been looking for The Next Him since at least 2010 and maybe it’s too soon to say but i think he has a candidate in mind and that candidate is greg tarzan davis

#tom cruise #greg tarzan davis #this is my most off the wall conspiracy theory but like #tarzan was around the same age in tg2 as tom was when he was in tg1 #coyote was originally a bit part (a la the b team daggers) but tom and mcq and kosinski reportedly saw Something in him #and they expanded his character #and put him through the same pilot boot camp that all the main daggers went through #and he was so passionate about wanting to learn Everything about cinematography and storytelling and writing #that mcq wrote him the part of clarence hardback in mi7-8 #all i’m saying is the fact that tom Personally okayed this young up and coming actor for BOTH of the finales of his most famous franchises? #That Says Something #yes yes glen powell is very talented and has a lot going for him too #and i feel like he has Mega Star Potential #but in terms of the actor who is tom cruise’s official successor?? #i’m gonna bet on the man who tom and mcq have been personally mentoring for almost five years now

[kyuohki]

Chapters: 4/8 Fandom: Final Fantasy Tactics Advance Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Original Character/Original Character Characters: Marche Radiuju, Montblanc, Original Characters Additional Tags: Kidnapping, Whump, Secrets, Rescue Missions, Self-Worth Issues, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending, Aged-Up Character(s), (bc when I wrote this I forgot how old the charas were), Blood and Violence Series: Part 1 of Discarded Hope Summary:

When a rival clan is paid to bring Marche and Clan Ragnarok down, the altruistic leader is stolen away to Clan Uroborus’ home base in Jagd Helje. Olgan, Ragnarok’s main healer, is outed as a former member of Uroborus, and after he is accused of betraying Ragnarok, he leaves on his own to save Marche. Kemal, Ragnarok’s brash monk, chases after Olgan, angry that the young mage left to save Marche on his own, as well as fearful for his safety.

But Olgan has more secrets in his past than Clan Ragnarok is aware of, and his history with his former Clan’s leader might be his, and Marche’s, downfall…

#Final Fantasy Tactics Advance #Discarded Hope #Marche Radiuju #Montblanc #Original Characters #Kidnapping #Whump #Secrets #Rescue Missions #Self-Worth Issues #Eventual Romance #Eventual Smut #Eventual Happy Ending #Aged-Up Character(s) #(bc when I wrote this I forgot how old the charas were) #Blood and Violence