#if i am bold i might post this on AO3. might. possibly.

[jakegooglyeyes]

Hey, the thing about the ao3 "censorship" it's not actually censorship. She's trying to remove the p*do stuff. That's not censorship.

Okay, I'll try to explain this as clearly as I can. But this is the only time I'm going to explain this. Other people have said enough about why this person's platform is alarming. This is really long, and I hope you'll care enough to read it.

tldr: I and many other Chinese, SEAsian, or anyone who live under heavy-censorship laws recognize her rhetoric and dog whistles, please do not dismiss our fear as overreacting when we say she is pro-censorship.

Also please forgive any mistakes I made, English is not my first language.

Firstly, let's take a look at what Tiffany G said in her chat:

Well, I think a lot of external people are very concerned about the fact that some works contain child pornography, pedophilic content, and other illegal content. If possible (this is not entirely possible after I chatted with people from PAC though), I am interested in providing extra help to the PAC team and Legal team to update the ToS and policies on those.

OK this is a follow-up to the last question – people think we host child porn content and such things. This issue is actually closely related to the incident when our service is banned in my home country. It might also be helpful to clarify that to the public. I am not an expert but look forward to discussing it more with respective committees.

She never clarified what other "illegal" content is. If you're familiar with China's censorship laws, illegal content includes anything from NSFW (depicting intimacy below the neck), LGBT in all rating, things that lower morales and promote nihilism (violence, tragedy, horror, talking about corruption of authority, painting law inforcement in bad light, you name it). So aside from underage content, what else does she consider "illegal"?

In her follow-up answer, she twisted the fact, claiming that it was banned for cp and such things (once again, never clarify what "such things" was). Except it wasn't, it was banned for hosting sexual content, and, you guessed it, lgbt content.

About the incident that got AO3 banned in China: This user summed it up quite well

As I have mentioned before, AO3 is no longer accessible in my home country due to some incident related to a piece of pedophilic work that is posted at AO3. This makes users very difficult to read and write with AO3. When I was reading the comments about the incident, a lot of people seemed to have a negative opinion about us. So, I think there is at least something we can do to help build a better image for us in my home country.

This is naive as best, China is very clear on what they deem unacceptable, and unless somehow all nsfw, lgbt content is removed, the "image" WILL NOT get better. If she genuinely wants to build a better image of AO3 in her home country, getting rid of underage content is like scooping water out of the sea with a spoon.

One more extra point, let's take a look at her language:

I support 100% “maximum inclusiveness of content”, yet there is always a boundary to everything. Since OTW is already an influential org, we need to protect our image and hold a better image to the public. I want the public to think of us as an inclusive and socially responsible community.

For someone who is familiar with Chinese fandoms, or know how China's censorship laws work (or any retrictive censorship laws in general), all the phrases in bold are familiar dog whistles used by the govt when they enact these types of laws.

The nuances might be lost to you if you aren't used to these types of pro-censorship language, but if you do, this is how they target lgbt content and sexual content. Starting with something everyone agrees is bad, then linking that too queer/sex positive people.

While we’re on the topic of sex-positivity, there is the question about misconception people have of AO3 and how to change that misconception, this is what she chose:

I have been a user of AO3 for a long time. And as a person who reads and writes stuff from Asia, I noticed a lot of people including myself (before) only used it to post stuff with adult content. It is still only used as a substitute for many people. I think we should change this. Fan fiction has all kinds not only just the adult content. And also yes people think AO3 is the only thing we have. We should definitely let them know about our other projects.

It's factually wrong to say users only use AO3 to post NSFW content. However, even if it was. What is she planning to do to CHANGE what content is put on the site? And also why is it a problem if people think AO3 is for porn unless porn is a bad thing?

Even if I were to agree with you that we should remove underage content, I simply couldn't help but see she meant more than just pedo stuff. That comes from my experience with pro-censorship language and how censhorship NEVER STOPS at what they start with.

Secondly, just like many others, I strongly believe in 2 things: 1. There is a difference between real life and fiction, 2. Fiction censorship destroys creative spaces.

If you argue that fictions involving minor is equal to actual cp, then where do you draw the line when fictional things = real life crime? Are horror movies equals to superstition practices? Will violence games and movies be banned because it contains murder? Is BDSM the same as torturing people (sure they both consent but the act caused real pain)? I understand you find certain things appalling, but that's what tags are for. You can block what you find unacceptable.

Censorship has never been a good thing. It's too much of a slippery slope. Let say you ban underage tag, and the rape tag for good measure. Done! The next person comes and says there shouldn't be NSFW content because children might be using the site too, it can be used for grooming children. Well, it makes sense, let's ban that too. Then the next person comes along, they say they find LGBT content unacceptable and you need to accomodate their freedom of religion, it makes them uncomfortable so it needs to go so they can browse the site. Then, another one comes and said violence in writing leads to violence behaviors (because remember, we've already established that fiction = reality). When is this going to end? The site can be free from censorship and everyone chooses what they want to see and not see, or it starts censoring things and has to keep up with anyone who wants to stop certain content.

So, are some content bad? Yes. But my stand is to let people have that creative space, that you can always filter things you consume, and that fiction is not the same as reality. I don't think banning underage content is her only goal (or her entire belief) and this person raised too many red flag for someone who live under extreme censorship laws and is familiar with Chinese fandoms scene.

Edit to add one final point: censorship does not always guarantee to remove the things you want to remove, take a look at Tumblr, visual porn is still everywhere; in fact, once authors choose to not tag things anymore fearing their work will get removed, the censorship system fails, the filtering system fails. And you’re left with one option, nuking an archive whose sole purpose is to just be a library of things people write.

#tiffany g #ao3 #otw #archive of our own #otw elections

[nuttytani]

When your boss and his "friend" are too lovey dovey

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Tartaglia | Childe x Zhongli

Premise: In which, Ekaterina makes the mistake of posting about her boss and his "friend", and the entire Liyue goes crazy

A/N: This is a social media au fic cross posted from my ao3! which you can read here

.

chapter 1

.

Ekaterina . @ katyaaa  

My boss and his “friend” better hook up, or I’ll seriously kill someone. How is it possible to not notice the heart eyes your “friend” looks at you with, for like every time you talk??!?? 2 years. It’s been 2 years since both Master Childe and Mr. Zhongli have been dancing around each other. 2 YEARS!!!!

And just now… You literally won’t believe the level of PDA I had to witness. Mr. Zhongli lent his coat to Master Childe  because his official uniform is too “risque” and “insufficient” for Liyue’s winter.

It’s not even 9 am yet… I need coffee for this shit.

| Vlad . @ vladaddy

Replying to @ katyaaa

You’re not the only one. Sweet Tsaritsa, have mercy on us.

__

Ekaterina . @ katyaaa

Update: He finally went out to have lunch with his “friend”. Thank archons. 

| Nadia . @ spynadia

Replying to @ katyaaa

You gotta admit, they’re pretty much couple goals, even without the dating. 

| Xiangling . @ cheflingling 

Replying to @ spynadia and @ katyaaa 

[Insert blurry image of two people, one with ginger hair and another with dark brown. The brunette looks like he’s feeding the ginger haired man. They’re both basically glue to each other’s side]

Awwe, look at them!! How cute! 

| Felix . @ felixis 

Replying to @ cheflingling 

Definitely did NOT need that image on my home feed and it definitely does NOT make me feel sour ass single pringle. 

| Ekaterina . @ katyaaa  

Replying to @ cheflingling 

What happened to something called privacy ? 

| Yunjin . @ operagrandis 

Replying to @ katyaaa  

Privacy went out the window the moment you decided to post about your “boss” crushing on his “friend” and vice versa

*

*

*

Show replies 

__

Signora . @ thefairestlady 

Hey. @ katyaaa , dig up some more pics and info on the two idiots in love. Tsaritsa’s orders 

| Ekaterina . @ katyaaa         

Replying to @ thefairestlady 

What ? 

| Pantalone . @ theregrator

Replying to @ katyaaa and @ thefairestlady 

Don’t bother asking why, it’s strictly confidential. Oh and also, make it quick :)

*

*

*

Show replies 

Ekaterina stares at her phone in horror as the notifications from her socials go blasting off every- freaking- second. Not to mention, the weird, suspicious and vague “mission” about digging more information on her boss and his “friend” 

Ugh. Why is she the one who has to suffer? 

.

chapter 2

.

First thing Ekaterina does is to mute her socials. The constant pinging of the notifications started to annoy her and it might overheat her phone too. 

“-terina” 

She shouldn’t have posted about her boss. Worst decision she ever made in her entire life- well… not exactly the worst but definitely ranks up high somewhere in the regrets list. 

“Ekaterina?”

But to be fair, it was getting on her nerves recently, since Mr. Zhongli got very bold with his affection towards Master Childe recently, and well… her boss being the oblivious and dense person he is, hasn’t even noticed the advances, and instead he just shoots his “friend” an extremely blushy smil-

Woah —

Something- no - a pair of hands grab Ekaterina’s shoulders and shake the living soul out of her body. “Oww.”

“Katya! Come on! I’ve been calling your name so many times now. Where is your mind at?” Nadia, one of her colleagues and friend, stares at her with concern.

“Sorry,” Ekaterina replies, pushing her hair back. “Was thinking…”

“Is it the new mission?”

“Yeah.” 

She shoots Ekaterina a pitiful look before handing her a cup of coffee. “Better start the hustle then. Call me or the others if you need help. And boy, we have a lot of work cut out for us.” Nadia ushers her away to her office, “Go, go, time is mora. Don’t waste it.”

With that, the door to her office closes. Ekaterina places her coffee on the table and pulls out her chair, before remembering to check her phone. 

__

Notifications 

Signora . @thefairestlady 

3 messages 

Pantalone . @theregrator 

1 message

__

Back to regretting my life choices, I guess. 

It took about a week to stalk gather intel on Master Childe and Mr. Zhongli’s time together. Stacks of brown envelopes and manila folders, labelled as “CONFIDENTIAL : FATUI ONLY” covered the entire top of Ekaterina’s dining table (scouring over reports about a harbinger’s rendezvous with a funeral consultant during working hours would have been too much on the nose)

The mission became a joint effort between her and other agents working at the Northland Bank. It was found out on their first day, that it wasn’t an easy task observing their extremely lovey dovey targets… The PDA displayed by them was too much (it was lethal to the agents’ health to watch them longer than an hour).

As the mission is classified to be confidential, and specially ordered by her majesty, Ekaterina and the agents couldn’t take any risks to get information leaked about whatever the heck they were doing. So, everyone opted for hard copy reports which could be destroyed once it fulfilled its use.

But no one expected it to be a massive headache as Ekaterina and her colleagues went through each one of them.

“When will this end?! There’s too many,” Felix breaks the silence with a groan, then slams his head down on the table.

“I feel like I’ve already read the same report a million times now, just worded differently.” Vlad rubs his eyes with a heavy sigh. “Every single day, they eat lunch together at Chef Mao’s, go to Yun Jin’s plays, or sometimes to Third-Round Knockout and finally crash at either one’s home for dinner, did I get that right?”

“You’re correct, except for one thing. Everything and everything is paid by Lord Tartaglia,” Felix responded, seemingly recovered from his exhaustion. 

Everyone hums in union. 

To be fair though, the mora used by Master Childe on his outings weren’t really his, but Lord Pantalone’s. Hell, even Ekaterina would exploit 9th Harbringer’s mora (if she had a higher standing in the fatui, of course)

“Lets not forget these.” With the most deadpan expression, Vlad tosses pictures of the “dates” their boss and his “friend” had, but many many cropped pictures of Master Childe’s chest framed perfectly by his leather harness, stood out from the stack.

“Who took these?” and “Why?” was left unsaid amongst them all. 

Nadia choked suspiciously on air just then. Nervously shifting her eyes around. 

Thinking to save her friend from embarrassment, Ekaterina tries to change the subject. “Ahem, anyway, since all the reports are basically the same, let’s just summarise it.” 

“Umm something along the lines of … Master Childe is a sugar daddy for Mr. Zhongli and they act like a married couple?” Felix says while rubbing his chin in deep thought. 

“Let's… At least try to rephrase our wording, not so straightforward.” Vlad smiles, or at least tries to. 

.

chapter 3

.

Childe . @ tartaglia

Why did I receive an emergency summon from her majesty? 

| Signora . @ thefairestlady

Replying to @ tartaglia 

Idk, you probably did something. Again. 

| Pantalone . @ theregrator

Replying to @ tartaglia and @ thefairestlady

Only one way to find out. 

| Lumine . @ thebettertraveller

Replying to @ tartaglia 

GL, I hope you don’t get your ass kicked. 

__

Ekaterina . @ katyaaa

Phew! Mission successfully completed and with a generous reward too! I’m glad all that stalking of Master Childe paid off. 

| Childe . @ tartaglia

Replying to @ katyaaa

You were spying on me? Don’t tell me this is the reason why I’ve been summoned… 

| Ekaterina . @ katyaaa 

Replying to @ tartaglia 

Spying ? hahaha what spying ? I don’t know what you’re talking about :DDD

| Felix . @ felixis 

Replying to @ katyaaa 

You’re so fired. Stupid ass. 

[ insert facepalm GIF ]

| Childe . @ tartaglia 

Replying to @ felixis and @ katyaaa 

Oh don’t worry, you’re both in trouble, and so is Nadia and Vlad ;)

| Ekaterina . @ katyaaa 

Replying to @ tartaglia 

Please have mercy, my lord! 

*

*

*

Show Replies 

Meanwhile, in the privacy of Zhongli’s home, an elegantly written note addressed not to Zhongli, but Morax, materialises right in front of him.

 “You shameless old dragon, get your broke ass to Snezhnaya now! We need to talk” 

Never in his life did Childe feel as nervous and scared until today. He was shaking in his boots as he looked back and forth between her majesty and Mr. Zhongli (alternatively Rex Lapis, as he just found out… but that can be discussed later). He didn’t think that he’d get summoned by The Tsaritsa nor did he expect Mr. Zhongli, who was supposed to be in Liyue doing his job, to be invited to her majesty’s garden for tea.

Tea? Nope this isn’t tea, this is basically an interrogation session! 

“Now, let me get this straight. You gave the boy a pair of marriage chopsticks and he accepted it?” Tsaritsa raised her teacup to her scowling lips slowly.

Hold on, wait a minute… Marriage chopsticks? 

“That is correct–”

“And you thought that my youngest, born and raised in Snezhnaya would understand the meaning behind this act? You didn’t think this through did you, Morax? How embarrassing, I suppose Barbatos is still right, you ARE a stone blockhead.”

Mr. Zhongli coughed discreetly to disguise his embarrassment, before taking a sip from his cup, “Now please, Tsaritsa, there’s no need to chastise me for it.” 

“I must, with how you shamelessly court my youngest Harbinger without my knowledge.” Tsaritsa’s eyes narrow down at Zhongli, like a mother ready to scold.

Childe watches the entire exchange in shock– courting ? Mr. Zhongli and courting ? Just what in Celestia is happening ? He must have looked like a dumbfounded monkey, staring at them, until her majesty’s words interrupt his inner turmoil.

“Well,” she says curtly “Has the wedding date been set? If not, I shall take care of it.”

Sputtering and hacking on his tea, Childe replied, “W-What!??”

.

Bonus scene 

“Lord Tartaglia! Congratulations, we heard you’re getting married–”

“My my! What good news! I can feel the tears of joy in my eyes already”

“How shocking… It feels as if just yesterday you were but a little boy running around the palace”

#genshin impact #tani writes!! #zhongli #childe #childe x zhongli #zhongli x childe #tartaglia #childe tartaglia ajax #childe tartagalia #zhongli genshin impact #childe genshin impact #genshin #zhongchi #tartali #zhongchili #genshin social media au #fatui #la signora #pantalone #tsaritsa

[author-a-holmes]

Obviously ignore this if you want but I saw you mention that you recently got published (congrats!!!) and I had a question. I'm still far out from that, but I know how to write and can research how to publish but I don't know how to market. Not only am I autistic and not charismatic, I want to solely use my pen name and distance my writing from my face because of my professional life. Do you know how to actually get people who might like your book to notice that it exists as an indie author with no previous following? Thank you if you have any advice!

Hello Moshke!

Thank you so much for the congratulations! It's taken longer than I expected but the realisation that I'm published is finally beginning to sink in! It's very surreal ^_^

I honestly don't know if I'm the right person to give advice on marketing as, at the moment, my book's been out just over a month and I feel like I'm stumbling around in the dark, but I wanted to give your ask due consideration and, despite my hesitation, I think I still have some tips that could hopefully help.

The reason I think I might have at least some relevant tidbits is that I'm also writing under a penname and most people don't seem to realise that.

Now, in my case, it's not about privacy it's just that don't like my given name enough to see it on book covers :D So I don't mind talking about it, but marketing your book under a penname isn't that much different to how you would market the book under your legal name.

Tip No. 1

Establish your pen name as a functional pseudonym now. Don't wait until you're ready to publish.

So, this stage was a little backwards for me. I come from the age of internet use where you did not give your real name online, under any circumstances, so I've always used various "online names".

By the time I decided that I was going to use "Arista Holmes" to publish under, anyone who knew me online already knew me as Ari. Even my best friend offline will sometimes call me Ari when we're chatting, so it had become as much an actual nickname as an online pseudonym.

But that's exactly what I'm getting at. I'm not pretending to be "Arista Holmes", I am Ari. A writer in her 30's based in the south east of England. The same way I'm Josie to my mum, or Jo-jo to my Godmother.

Tip No. 2

Don't think about it as marketing your book, but as creating an author "brand".

I'm using "Brand" here in the absence of a better term, because I absolutely hate thinking about this as a "brand", but what I mean is think of your Penname as something people will google search.

In fact, Google search your pen name.

As I mentioned, I'd been using "Arista Holmes" online for a while, and I had accounts all over the place that I didn't necessarily want coming up when people looked up my books.

(I will deny spending my youth on Neopets, it's just TOO embarrassing!) 

But jokes aside; Google your pen name. See what comes up. Scroll through all 20, 30, 50 pages of google. Some asshole looking for some embarrassing post from your teen years won't stop at page five, and neither should you.

Shut down any accounts you find, or if you want to keep them, change the username to something else. The only non-publishing related account linked to Arista Holmes now is my AO3. I figure it's still writing, so no harm in leaving that one up.

Tip No. 3

Set up social media accounts now; Be as consistent as possible across all platforms.

Now, and I want to put this in big bold letters:

Having accounts on all the socials does not mean you will be active on all of them.

Or use them at all, in fact.

Having accounts on Facebook, Tumblr, Instagram, Twitter, Tiktok, Youtube, etc etc etc, just means that if, by some miracle, you make it big and draw in fans you'll also inevitably draw trolls and by making the account with your pen name; it stops them claiming that username and pretending to be you.

It's a form of pre-emptive protection.

On that note; Be consistent across your accounts. Use the same profile picture, use the same header or banner, use the same colour scheme, use the same "About Me/About Author" description, and (as much as possible) use the same username format.

That last one won't be possible on all platforms. Some of them don't like periods/full stops. Some don't like underscores, but try to be as consistent as possible.

For example my account on here is author.a.holmes, most other places I'm aristaholmes. I'd change it, but at this point, I don't want to break all my links.

Tip No. 4

Author Pictures Are Not Required.

I'm adding this point here because I mentioned profile pictures in the previous tip. Author Pictures Are Not Required.

Don't get me wrong, they're often highly encouraged, and I can't deny that they give a humanising effect to the author, but that doesn't mean you actually have to show your face.

I've chosen to put my face on my "About The Author" page in the back of my book, but that's a personal choice. You don't have to add one at all! It's only more recently that I've seen fiction author photos in the back of books.

Until about... 15 years ago? Ish? I wouldn't have expected to see an author photo unless the book was non-fiction.

If you want to add a picture of you, but don't feel comfortable or can't because of real world problems, consider an artist's caricature instead. Go one step further than a pen-name and give yourself a pen-picture! Jenna Moreci uses an artist's interpretation as her profile picture/logo, and Lemony Snicket only had pictures of the back of his head for ages.

If you do decide to commission an artist though, do explain to them that it will be included in your books, that you'll be selling, as they will probably want to add a commercial licence price to the artwork; But if you explain why you're having the caricature done I imagine most artists would be very reasonable about it.

***

That's all my tips for setting up and marketing yourself, as the author, under a pen name... but I can already hear the voices in my head muttering that I've not really touched on how to get people to find you once you've set up the pen name, and the socials, and your website etc.

And it's because I personally think that if you're writing under a pen name you need to establish it as an entity in its own right before beginning to try marketing it.

So, moving on…

Tip No. 5

Find your place on the great, wide, interwebs...

I mentioned I'd been online as Arista Holmes for about 8-10 years prior to deciding to publish under this name, but once I did decide to publish I went and made all my author socials (just like I mentioned in Tip No. 3)

That was in 2020 and it was part experimentation, and part letting people find me. I knew I wasn't going to be able to keep up with multiple social media's, and I also knew I didn't WANT to, so I made the socials and I started posting on each platform and figuring out which platforms I liked. Which ones were easy to use, and which ones got me the most engagement with other people.

For me, this turned out to be Tumblr and Instagram. Twitter and Facebook are like graveyards for me, and Tiktok is only a little better, but your mileage may vary.

I cross post consistently with Tumblr, Instagram, because those are the places I get the most engagement... but I also maintain a blog on my website and any big pieces of news (such as asking for ARC readers, or publishing my book) gets posted across ALL platforms because, well, I live in hope that one day my tiktok will go viral lol.

But honestly, the multiple socials literally eat up so much of the time I could spend writing; I highly recommend picking two, three at most, and focusing on them.

But what do you post? I can almost hear you yelling <3

Tip No. 6

How to market when you're shy/introverted/not-charismatic/or any other thing you feel is holding you back.

You're going to want to throw something at me but lean on your strengths. It sounds so simple, and I know it's not, I'm sorry, but here's what I mean by that.

When I was still experimenting with all the socials to find the ones I liked, I stumbled across an image. I want to say it was here on tumblr but, honestly, I don't remember and at the time I was neck deep in every marketing and promotional blog or article I could find trying to figure this shit out.

It was called "The Periodic Table of Content Marketing".

I don't know why this helped me wrap my head around marketing, but it did.

I read over each of the types of marketing and I started getting idea's.

Ebooks... I'd heard about people doing reader magnets for newsletter lists.

Interviews... I've seen authors on podcasts. I'd seen people on tumblr interviewing their characters. I could do that.

Trends... What are popular tropes if not trends of the moment?

And I suddenly realised that this silly little graph was all the different types of marketing I could do, broken down simply, and laid out neatly, and I could pick and choose not only the bits I was comfortable doing, but the bits that I was confident with.

I'm never going to put my face on a tiktok video and lipsync to popular songs, but I could write a 12,000 words short story prequel to my series and make it exclusive to newsletter subscribers.

That was something I could do, because it leaned on my strengths; My writing.

Because I haven't said it yet, but two years ago I'd have described myself very similarly to you.

I'm not charismatic. While I'm not autistic, I am painfully introverted. I have severe social anxiety. I'm not funny, I can't talk with strangers casually or easily. Talking about my book more than once a week feels like I'm bragging or being pushy... But I can write.

So I started looking for opportunities to share my writing, and let it... not speak for itself, but let my words draw in the audience. It still took a bit of pushing on my part, I would look for tag games where the user had left an "Open Tag" and I'd hop on those and share some words.

This is part of the reason Tumblr is one of my favourite places to network with writers and readers, because the tag games let me share and tease content without having to push through my social anxiety all that hard.

It's a slower, organic, audience growth but it's definitely my preference.

The content I shared on here, produced to play tag games, I quickly realised that I could copy it onto a pretty image in canva, and share it on instagram easier than I could condense a paragraph into the twitter character limit, or make it look appealing on Facebook's janky system.

And the more writing I shared, the more people commented and followed. And the more they commented and followed, the easier it was to talk to them. And then I started getting asks. That was nerve wracking and sometimes they'll still sit there a couple of months before I can make myself answer them.

(Sorry Sleepy and Avra, if you're reading this! I'll reply soon, I promise!)

Have I gone off topic here? I kind of feel like I have but also... not really.

If you feel like your writing is your strength, lean on it. Let it do the heavy lifting for you. Show your hand with your words.

By the time I set up my mailing list and offered 'Whatever Happened To Madeline Hail?' for free, I got 12 people to sign up straight away. I don't know if that's a lot, but it was at least eight more than I was expecting.

When my book launched, I received 14 reviews, and sold 20 copies the first month. Again, I don't know if this is a lot, but it was a whole hecking lot more than I'd hoped for.

I don't know if I'm good at marketing, and maybe someone will reblog and reply to this with better advice, or tear apart what I've said, and if they do great! I really hope it helps you or someone else down the reblog chain because, as I said at the start, I'm really just stumbling around in the dark and hoping I somehow get it all to work out lol

But I do just have one more piece of advice, that isn't really my advice...

Tip No. 7

Fake it until you make it.

You're a writer. The beauty of the internet is that we have time to stop, and think about the words we're writing in response to someone.

I'm a shy, introvert, who doesn't know when to shut up when she gets started talking about writing (Or at least that's what it looks like based on the length of this post...)

But 99% of people I speak to online don't know I'm an introvert. They don't know that after sending an email I have to go back to bed for a few hours to recover my energy, or that I can't answer a phone without feeling nauseous for the rest of the day and it's because when I'm online I'm Arista Holmes, and I can write my responses in the same way I write my characters.

I'm not saying I'm not being me, I am, but I'm also being given the time and space to be the confident me I want to be, rather than the nervous wreck I actually am.

Write your socials, and market your book, as the you that you’d write if you were dropped into one of your own books.

Fake it until you make it.

Handy Resource List For Marketing:

Periodic Table of Content Marketing

Jenna Moreci's Youtube - I take her writing advice with a huge chunk of salt, but her marketing advice is top notch.

Bethany Atazedah Youtube - Co-wrote a Marketing For Authors Non-fiction series, but a lot of her youtube videos contain good, free, advice too.

Self-Publishing With Dale - If you want to market effectively, keeping on top of the current trends and changes in the market is important. Self Publishing with Dale is the best way I've found to do that; He really has his fingers on the pulse of the Self Publishing Market, and even if you're not publishing yet, checking out some of his videos can teach you loads about what to do, but more importantly, what NOT to do.

Michael Anderle's 20Bookto50k system - I didn't mention it as a tip but the BEST form of marketing a book is to write the next book. Michael Anderle talks about his theory that is you have 20 books published, your backlist of royalty income should net you around $50k a year. The hour and a half talk changed my whole marketing outlook and is why I'm focussed on a slow grown, more organically sourced, audience rather thank paid advertising.

Abbie Emmons Youtube - I'm not sure I should include Abbie in a list of marketing resources as she's often more about the writing side of the craft, but her videos have been invaluable to me, so she's just worth checking out in general.

#Ari Speaks #Arista Speaks #Ari Gives Advice #Ari is unqualified to give advice #Marketing #Marketing under a penname #Penname #Pen Name #Pseudonym #Content Marketing #Publishing #Self Publishing #Building An Audience #Growing An Audience #Writeblr #Writeblr Community #Writing #Writing Community #CW: Mental Health #CW: Social Anxiety #CW: Anxiety #TW: Mental Health #TW: Anxiety #TW: Social Anxiety #Ask #Ask Answered

[pileofpawns]

Hello, my name is Turtle Johnson. I make posts so good, that I bring back the dead.

Hiya, this is my introduction post! The bit above is just a reference to the Super Ghostbusters album by Vargskelethor - You can actually call me Plum! I’m your local turtle girl who likes to talk about silly stuff on the internet.

About me:

she/her pronouns please, though I don’t mind they/them or any turtle-themed neopronouns

You can default to feminine language when referring to me but I honestly don’t care what gendered language you use! I might not be a guy but you can call me one if it’s funny.

I am a cisgender woman

I am white

I am disabled in the physical (mitral valve prolapse, frequent disabling headaches), neurodevelopmental (ADHD), mental illness (dermatillomania, major depressive disorder), and sensory (myopia, ADHD, misophonia) departments. (wow, all four!) I’m only sharing my specific disabilities here because I feel comfortable doing so and want people to have context when I talk about them.

I’m aroace! (More specifically, sapphic-oriented bold stripe aroace. No romantic or sexual attraction whatsoever but women sure are pretty.)

I am alterhuman and a scalie! My scalesona and main kintype is a three-toed box turtle.

I do not subscribe to online discourse and therefore do not have a “DNI” list. However, I do block freely. I kindly ask that discourse be kept out of this blog. I’m a strict inclusionist and if you think things like queer microlabels, self-diagnoses, and endogenic systems are invalid and/or inherently harmful, I suggest you think about why and do some research on the subject(s).

About the blog:

I primarily post about my many interests and fandoms (see the list below). I also post the occasional art piece I make, talk about queerness, disability, and alterhumanity, and make a lot of nonsensical shitposts.

I try to keep this blog accessible as possible but it is by no means perfect. I typically won’t add include image descriptions to things I’m reblogging (I’m currently trying to get into the habit of tagging these as “undescribed” or “no ID” but the vast majority aren’t), but I do usually add IDs to my original posts. I tag common triggers (usually without a preface of “cw” or “tw”) such as blood, violence, and food. If you ever need me to tag something or make any other accessibility related changes to my blog please let me know!!

I tag pretty much all posts I make, including reblogs, with the type of post (#reblog, #plum rambles, #plum shitposts, #plums art), as well as content warnings, ships, fandoms, and characters when applicable.

There will never be explicit adult content and nothing suggestive beyond like. me laughing at “pe🅱️is” or admiring the general concept of boobs, and even that’s rare. I keep things SFW but be aware that despite my aroace-ness I am still an immature teenager.

Some things I like:

Turtles!!

Art, especially drawing and various crafts

Dungeons & Dragons

Magic the Gathering (casually)

Sonic the Hedgehog

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Usagi Yojimbo

Tales from the Stinky Dragon

SpongeBob SquarePants

Rhythm games

YouTube Poops (YTPs)

South Park - I’m not very active in the fandom anymore aside from interacting with my fandom mutuals but I was very hyperfixated on it a while back

Other sites:

I post my writing to ao3 under Pile Of Pawns

You can talk to me on discord @ pickledplums (if you send a friend request please tell me who you are if I wouldn’t already know)

Sometimes I put things on YouTube @ pickledplums

The name of my blog as well as the title of this post are references to the Super Ghost Busters album by Vargskelethor. It’s very funny and I highly recommend you check it out. My URL is practically meaningless now but it was meant to be a reference to my main persona (and the other similar characters I had made) at the time, who looks like a chess pawn.

For reference, the character in my icon is my turtlesona, Tir! You can find more art of her under the tag #tir the tortle.

Thank you for reading, and enjoy your stay!

[Image ID: An animated gif of a yellow smiley face with a floating hand happily waving at the viewer. End ID.]

#intro post #(version two: the sequel) #plum rambles #gif #fast gif

[valeriefauxnom]

Scaling Removed Scenes

So, even if I use most the content I type, or am at very least able to repurpose scene ideas, sometimes things just don't quite make it into the cut. It might be for characterization, the tone a section had that is now at contrast with the rest of the chapter (as me, who tends to write random interesting bits of several upcoming chapters in the future and then strings things together, cannot exactly foresee where the plot is), or just because a better idea popped up. (Yes, you are also reading this right in that I am a 'pantser' flying by the seat of my pants with ideas vaguely glued together as I stitch things together! ...I'm not good at outlines.)

The point remains: this is things that aren't Scaling 'canon' or congruent. And despite it all, some of these are snippets or, rarely, basically fully polished segments that no longer fit. So instead of letting them rot forever in my drafted works, I figured I'd at least try and put some of them somewhere as maybe a fun little thing for anyone interested to see What Could Have Been.

Here's one, which with the latest chapter is out of the running. My first draft and ideas for this section involved the Trio of Eldest Siblings being the ones to face an even angrier Mids, and it would have been much earlier in the chapter. As things developed, it was ultimately thrown out for quite a few reasons. For one, Euden Tower Defense and resulting drama had not yet entered my mind. It also felt like a bit too...productive for a single section, in that Mids is giving incredibly huge pieces to the puzzle all in once, even if he might be a bit looser with info when mad. Combined with other things, it was eventually 'repurposed' into Leo's encounter(s) with Midgardsormr. You'll see shades of elements here and there!

That being said, I'm not exactly sure what to do with these little bits and pieces. This is probably the biggest piece I can think of that is truly out of the realm of possibility now. I'm not sure whether to just post 'em on Tumblr for easy finding so they don't get lost in my own drafts or posting them to a new single work on AO3 or something, with chapters dividing the different failed sections. What might work best/be preferred for any readers here, for convenience or something?

Without any ado, though, now that that's out of the way, here's the section in question, a full 2.7k that had developed wings but nevertheless failed to fly enough to make the Cut!

“And then, before I could explain his behavior to Father as nothing more than dismay that Father was hewing closer to the core of the matter, Father dismissed me as if I were naught more than a schoolboy throwing a temper tantrum! Infuriating. We just might have had some answers by now, but Father’s saccharine tendencies nipped it in the bud and allowed Euden to escape yet again from answering any uncomfortable topic.” Leonidas said as he relayed his experience with Father and Euden last night, only pausing to angrily sip his tea.

“One question: were you acting as a ‘schoolboy throwing a temper tantrum’, o wizened, most temperate elder brother, or at least resembling one enough that Father strayed closer to caution than boldness in assuming Euden’s intentions? You do have a certain…vigor in you that can oft make it appear you are feeling more intensely about a matter than you actually are.” Phares said, jovial to Leonidas’ annoyance.

Chelle hummed in agreement. “With the fire in his mere recounting of last night’s events, I too would struggle to blame Father for erring on the side of caution when interpreting your interpretations.”

“Perhaps I ought to head posthaste to Valkaheim, if that is how I am appreciated here, and leave you to figure out the truth all alone. First you disregard me and my orders, only to deride me as if I were a petulant, emotional child.” Leonidas huffed at their light teasing as the trio of eldest siblings gathered once again to consult with each other over tea.

“Winter is not due for how many months, and yet brother dearest is already wishing to abandon us to frigid winter to enjoy the warmth of Valkaheim? How cruel and cold, much as my elder brother’s heart, it seems!” Chelle exclaimed with faux hurt. They all knew Leonidas was merely expressing exasperation at not getting his way yet again, instead an actual threat to return to his city as he did for all winters. It wasn't as if Chelle would be here for winter either, more than happy to return to Chanzelia to escape the freeze as well.

“Oh yes, how very devastating, his willingness to leave his infirm, sickly brother to the capital, trusting that he won’t even be able to hold a coup in the meantime…” Phares joined right in the teasing with a hand clutching his chest and blatantly lying. While far from the raw physical strength Leonidas or Valyx could muster, he wasn’t exactly infirm now, either, and a master of all forms of the lance aside. 

“As if you wish the throne, anyways… We’d have an easier time convincing you to remain in a library for a year than maintain the throne for half that.” Well, that too, as Leonidas pointed out. Phares was more than content to stay holed up in his study or wandering the world in search of truth and science, making his words mere bluster. The one singular time Leonidas and Father had both been struck ill by an illness for a few days enough to demand a regent, Phares made his displeasure acting as such clear enough by his sulking. 

“Hm, that actually might be a pleasant reprieve from-”

They were interrupted when a sudden strong breeze sent wind whipping across the courtyard. Chelle had to rapidly snatch her fan off the table before it could be carried away. Looking to the sky, baffled by the sudden change in wind, they soon had an answer.

Midgardsormr had returned to the castle, and he was evidently interested in coming to land in their courtyard.

They watched in silence as the dragon slammed onto the ground much louder than necessary, each formulating their own idea about the situation.

“Heiritors of dragonblood, what have you done to Euden?! Answer me or your lives might be considered forfeit!” The dragon all but roared, staring them down with all the fury of a powerful Greatwyrm.

Leonidas stood up. The rest of them followed, but Leonidas held out an arm in a signal to stay behind him. “Explain what you mean, wyrm. We’ve done nothing. Whatever you mean, it was not our act.”

His words sounded cold as ever, but the remaining siblings could tell he was preparing himself for a fight. Even the causal omission of ‘Great’ in front of ‘wyrm’ would be considered severely disrespectful. To do so in front of an angry dragon was tantamount to begging for a fight.

“Then you mean to claim you have nothing to do with his current status? He had fled. Escaped as planned from you, and so I departed to track him down and rejoin him. Only after some time searching did I feel his mana again echoing back to this very castle and just outside, this time ever-so-much-weaker. It is clear you, as the connecting factor, did something drastic to incapacitate him!” With every huff, verdant tendrils of wind mana cascaded out his mouth and nostrils, a passive reminder of the power dragons commanded by virtue of their creation.

“The only thing our family has done of late, Greatwyrm, was save him from being preyed upon by fiends and dying from shapeshifting rebound. He’s currently being treated to the best of our capacity and with all kindness possible.” Phares said in a more placating tone than Leo’s harsher rejection.

“Clearly a lie. It was you who first imprisoned him into this castle, and halted him from shapeshifting! Evidently, now that he reclaimed his ability, you must resort to other methods now that the accursed collar is nullified from his efforts. Exactly what I would have come to expect from such conniving siblings who seemed to seek nothing less than his complete annihilation at times!” Though the Greatwyrm appeared calmer by actually being willing to hear them out, he was still obviously angry, judging by the way his tail thrashed about and knocked over things at random.

Despite the more pressing concern trying to calm down a Greatwyrm from attempting murder (and one that would likely succeed against at least one of them), Midgardsormr’s words sent their heads spinning as they processed. 

First, the dragon had implied that Euden had shared with him that they were siblings before he saw fit to reveal the same to Father, as well as plotting escape with him. Second, Midgardsormr seemed to believe they sought Euden’s ‘annihilation’ and spoke as if he had a history with them longer than a month or two. Whatever could that mean or have originated from? Had Euden and him truly been speaking so dramatically of affairs here? It hadn’t seemed like it, the one time they partially overheard a discussion of theirs… Though they admittedly were speaking secretively in their utilization of Draconic, a nearly dead language that even dragons seldom used for anything beyond ancient literature and magic study.

“Greatwyrm, if you are truly so unable to take our words for what they are, I implore you, by all means, visit your pactbound yourself to see with your own eyes that he is not being mistreated. We know not what you are referring to, but it is not our wish to see relations soured between the Kingdom and the Greatwyrms.” Chelle offered, testing the waters by calling Midgardsormr and Euden ‘pactbound’ to gauge his reaction.

The dragon fell silent then, failing to provide a reaction as he maintained his stare as if he were weighing their souls. “...I will hold you to your offer, dragonblood.” He held his snout up high in the air for a minute, before he abruptly took to the air again. 

“...He looks like he’s going to our bedrooms,” Phares said as he observed the dragon’s flight, “They must be pacted after all or otherwise engaged in some sort of bond. Tracking down the mana of a shapeshift is one thing, but to be able to pinpoint his location like this suggests a deeper connection. Even Uranus wouldn’t be able to pin my exact location, and we’re essentially in lockstep.”

“Phooey. My hair is all messed up now.” Chelle said instead as she tried to school it into a neater semblance of its former glory. 

Leonidas’ hair was similarly messed up, though he did not seem to care aside from moving it away from his eyes. “Pick up your slackened jaws and lances, guards. The threat is not gone. Sister, Brother, you may wish to go inside. If the beast is to attack, let him claw through the walls to do so, preferably when you are armed.”

Midgardsormr’s strong wind and strong…verbiage had made some of the guards drop their weaponry in shock.

“And let you engage in diplomacy, when you’re already mentally strategizing how to fight a Greatwyrm? Perish the thought. If we run, he could just as easily take that as confirmation we feared his wrath when he discovered something.” Chelle dismissed, taking her seat again as if a dragon did not just threaten that he might take their lives.

Phares hummed in agreement. “Besides, we did just invite him inside. There would be a fair probability his hypothetical rampage would commence there. We simply must pray we’ve given no accidental cause for Midgardsormr to interpret as neglectful.”

They then sat in mostly silence despite the gravity of the situation, their previous discussion tabled. The only marker of some time passing was the increasing presence of guards entering the courtyard, no doubt responding to frantic calls to arms regarding a hostile dragon in the place only to find it empty.

But finally, Midgardsormr could be seen in the skies once more, landing again, this time with a more reasonable slam. He graciously chose to ignore the few guards that nervously pointed their spears in his general direction to focus upon them again.

“I will acknowledge that your current story appears to be veracity, kin of dragonblood. Euden is yet asleep, but all that I could gather from others suggested your words to be true. For once.” The bluster in the wind and his mood seemed to die down. 

They could only be pleased the dragon was of the sort able to calm himself when proven wrong, though he was not pleased about it. Many dragons, much as humans, struggled to accept any notion of faultiness and many a cautionary story ended with a dragon going on a rampage only to find out their driving reason was incorrect.

“Our thanks for listening to us, Honorable Greatywrm. Please, if there is aught more you might like to hear to clarify the situation since your departure, do ask.” Chelle said in her smooth tone that served to soothe ruffled feathers (or scales) and cravats alike, eager to further iron out any misunderstandings and perhaps win back some goodwill.

The dragon looked more contemplative at that. “...How did you find out that he was your kin? The environs were richly decorated and well-guarded in such a way that suggests you live near his new quarters, no? What caused his change of scenery from being secreted away above the castle as little more than a prisoner?”

“He revealed it to our father, though not particularly freely. It was a miracle we’ve gotten that much out of him despite that being the most logical conclusion since the first day he stepped inside the castle, and even that reportedly set him crying and pulling out his own feather. Utterly ridiculous.” Leonidas responded, shaking his head with distaste.

The dragon sighed. “...Feather? Whatever is going on with you?” He muttered, lost in thought, “...All I know of Euden would not correlate to most behavior you and your servants consistently described. Still, know that I will not break the bonds of trust placed upon me and thus will not speak of his secrets.” Sage as reputed, Midgardsormr had already deduced the likely request that he share information with them if he were truly so concerned and preemptively responded.

“Then,” Phares swallowed, buying time to think of a way to phrase his inquiry, “...If you cannot, is someone else who might? We’re increasingly at our wits’ end trying to find out anything that might help him. As soon as things look to be improving, something backslides him three steps before seemingly without rhyme or reason as he refuses to explain.”

“...There exists none who could share his life story, anymore. They are gone. The sole keepers are him and myself, and even I know not all.” 

They paused at that plain confirmation that they had no hope of finding any record or person that knew of Euden aside from those presently within the confines of their current location. However many were that could have before, they were likely dead if that was how Midgardsormr addressed them.

“Ah. I see…”

“All fine and well, but do you seriously intend us to twiddle our thumbs and gently try to prod him into revealing another scrap of info, only then to have to wait another month before any notable progress can be made again and trust he doesn’t find a way to die or maim himself accidentally in the meantime? That is the pattern of late, and one that cannot be allowed to continue. If you profess care enough to open yourself up to attack from the entire kingdom, I would remind you of the consequences of silence.” Leonidas said, not falling into Phares’ melancholic mood so easily.

“Dearest brothers, this was supposed to be an opportunity to answer questions of the dragon, not ask them, regardless of your points.” Chelle reminded.

“I intend to honor the trust placed in me, little ember, especially as I am the only one whom he can rely upon now,” the Windwyrm dismissed, flicking his tail in displeasure, “Control your fire before it sparks the wrong blaze. Regardless, there is little I wish to ask that I could receive an adequate response for. I will permit you to continue your inquiries as I see fit.” 

The diminutive appellation of Leonidas as a ‘little ember’ had him cross his arms in distaste, -also probably from the reminder he had no true control whether the dragon stayed to listen at all.

“Then, Windwyrm, if you will not enlighten the darkness, advice on how to illuminate it ourselves would be helpful. We’ve any number of scattered facts, but connecting them into a singular narrative is proving most difficult.”

“...I will speak with him as soon as he has awoken before I do anything more. But I will leave you with two pieces of advice: Euden, as most every living creature, is more helpful when met with kindness than not.”

“Windwyrm: we’ve tried making most every concession allowed either for his health or per our lord Father’s orders. We would struggle to think of aught other kindness one could provide. He asks for near nothing, and so nothing we provide.” Chelle protested, incensed at the implication they were meeting him with unkindness.

It was uncanny, how so many dragons could hold so still for so long. Had they not known, one could have taken Midgardsormr as a very fancy, exorbitantly expensive sculpture. “...And have you considered your mere presence is its own form of torment to him? Therein lies my second piece of advice: regardless of how illogical it may be, the least likely answer is more often the closer one to your answers.” 

“Illogical in what-”

Before Phares could finish, Midgardsormr took off yet again abruptly as he first came, deciding the conversation was over.

“...Well, that was certainly interesting. A pity he grew tired of questioning so quickly. I had many things I might like to ask about.” Phares blinked, interrupted in the middle of his question and left watching the dragon go.

“Nothing like a touch of mortal peril to enliven one’s afternoon, hm? Though, Leo-Leo, I must say, how dashing to come to your siblings’ aid! I’d almost begun to believe you were devolving into a crude brute with no sense of chivalry!”

“How is it that you can turn to jape so quickly in the wake of what just transpired? Do you fools even realize the precariousness of that situation? Regardless, I simply did not wish you to be in my way if the dragon were inclined to attack. That is all.” 

“Mm-hm…” Two skeptical voices sounded, sharing a knowing look. Oh yes, that likely was part of the reason, but they both knew it was not the entirety.

Phares took a sip of tea, as if they were not in potentially mortal peril not five minutes ago. “In any case, permit me to share my own curious findings I’ve been meaning to before I announce the same to our sibling in question, obtained thanks to the Lightwyrm and Nedrick…”

---

#scaling the walls of a mystery #my writing #Lost Scales #ha. I'm keeping that one if I post any others. #In any case I hope someone might enjoy seeing the 'what ifs' of Scaling! #The story has shifted trajectory from this but elements do remain that have not quite emerged. Make of that what you will! #Even if the section isn't 'canon' some of the headcanon still is. #Like in this case Leo's and Chelle's flight to their cities for winter is my explanation of how they split their time/duties #(It's my way of stealthily patching the incongruity with the mention that Leo and Chelle aren't normally around in the epilogue!)

[ofstormsandfire]

aaaa- both fics that I’ve started reading and need to get back to T^T how could you do this </3 /j

And here the rest that I wanted to ask-🍄 🤔🛠

Hope you’re having a wonderful day/night!!

Lol I promise the fics are not going anywhere :P

🍄Decriscribe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  

...Huh I just realized describe is spelled wrong in the ask game lol.

Anyway, let's go with a wip that hasn't seen the light of AO3 yet (but I'm very very excited to write eventually and very very normal about)

"bloodborne boss + player's role in the plot = something approaching a fix-it fic?"

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

I mean that dependdddss on what you mean by "haven't even started yet." Um. I'll cover all my bases to be safe.

If we go with the strictest definition possible, well... some friends of mine got me into pokeblogging, which is a silly little thing where you blog like you're in the world of pokemon, and it would be very fun to novelize the story of one of my too-many blogs in particular. (I have too many WIPs already though so if that ever happens it Won't Be For A While.)

If we go by the definition of "have notes but no actual writing" maybe that weird crossover between Hollow Knight and Undertale where Hallownest is underneath the Underground. It would be called "Where the Waterfall Ends: A Documentary" and be set in post-canon for both Undertale and Hollow Knight, and it would feature Undyne and Alphys having a silly little youtube channel where they investigate paranormal sightings and magical rumors. The big question of "so where DOES that waterfall go anyway" ends up being a lot bigger than they bargained for.

If we go by the definition of "some amount of writing done but nothing posted," probably the fic I mentioned for the "describe your wip" one. (Particularly considering that I might end up scrapping a lot of what I've got written already.) It's a Bloodborne fic, where - look, y'know what I did with Cynthia for Echoes, shoving her into the role of the protagonist of Pokemon Platinum? I'm planning to do the same damn thing for a third time with Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower. It will be a fucking delight and also incredibly stressful for her <3

(That one, when I eventually am able to write it - read, when I've actually finished playing Bloodborne and can knit my various thoughts and plans together into a coherent narrative - is going to be called "the beat of a long dead heart." I'm undecided on capitalization or not. Some fandoms it really fits the vibe to capitalize titles, some fandoms it really doesn't, and Bloodborne could go either way really.)

🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

Hmmmmmm. I mean, bold of the question to assume I only have one WIP first of all. Probably the biggest thing I'm struggling with re: TBOYL is getting my momentum going for it again. But I'm really quite close to the ending, and while I could theoretically just skip there, I don't want to. There's a few more legendaries and mythicals to cover and in the spirit of Cynthia we're covering all of them.

(In more mundane concerns, I keep marking a chapter as "this is the one where Darkrai will show up for real this time" and it ends up Not Being That lol. This keeps happening with TBOYL. It will happen again.)

Hope you are too, tyvm for the ask :)

#screaming-but-also-hhh #askbox #writing things #fanfic things #there's blood on your lies #the beat of a long dead heart

[kissatoru]

⊱ ─── ✧ 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 ✧ ─── ⊰

𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

✦ MINORS BEWARE! — my work is not intended for, nor am i comfortable with it being read by people under 18. i obviously can’t control who reads my writing, but i do ask that if you’re a minor, please do not interact with me or my posts. if i catch you, you’re getting BLOCKED!

✦ INBOX ETIQUETTE — i do not take requests, but i’m always open to suggestions, thirsts or even just a chat, especially if you want to talk about shared faves or attack on titan! all i ask is that you don’t vent without warning or traumadump. any rude or entitled asks will be deleted and spam, harassment or anything that goes against my boundaries will result in an instant block.

✦ OOH, A SECRET ADMIRER?! — anons are welcome yayy! feel free to drop by and claim an emoji, name or whatever you wanna idk. current anons: 🧸

✦ SPAM LIKING IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE! — don’t do it please! i’m glad you enjoy my posts, but i personally find it overwhelming so please don’t spam-like (5+ posts in a row) unless we’re mutuals.

✦ NEGATIVITY BEGONE! — i feel like this should go without saying but just be nice. nasty asks will be deleted and their nasty senders promptly blocked! hate, discourse and drama have no place here.

✦ THANK YOU! — every like, reblog and comment is always SO so appreciated!!!<3

𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨

✦ THE TUMBLR AND AO3 EXCLUSIVE! — tumblr and ao3 are the only places i post my writing. please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my work onto any other platforms, and especially don’t feed my shit into AI, i will pour fucking CEMENT into your ears<3

✦ NO UNDERAGE CHARACTERS — i’ll only ever write for characters who are already legal adults or have a canon timeskip. that’s just what i prefer, so please keep it in mind when sending in thirsts/suggestions!

╰┈➤ 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

✦ DOMINANT — i might write sub!reader if i feel like it, but probably not often. it depends entirely on my mood and the character. in general though, i’d like thirsts and suggestions to be dom!reader only please.

✦ GENDER-NEUTRAL — since i’m non-binary myself, i will always use they/them pronouns for the reader in my writing, regardless of anatomy.

✦ NON-SPECIFIC — unless it’s the focus of a scenario ( e.g. tall!reader for a size difference kink ), i prefer to keep the physical appearance of my reader ambiguous.

✦ TOP/BOTTOM — i have a slight preference for top!readers but i enjoy and do write bottom!reader as well.

✦ AMAB/AFAB — i’m comfortable writing for both female and male anatomy, but it isn’t always relevant, and if possible/i want to, it’ll be ambiguous/open to interpretation. sometimes the reader is written with a particular anatomy in mind, but if this is the case, it will be mentioned in the cws.

╰┈➤ 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘴 & 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴

note: subject to change + faves in bold<3

✦ SNK — eren jaeger, armin arlert, mikasa ackerman, jean kirschtein, connie springer, reiner braun, pieck finger, floch forster, levi ackerman, hange zoë

✦ JJK — satoru gojo, kento nanami, shoko ieiri, toji fushiguro

✦ KNY — mitsuri kanroji, tengen uzui, kyojuro rengoku, giyuu tomioka, aizetsu

✦ HQ — shoyo hinata, tobio kageyama, kei tsukishima, toru oikawa, kotaro bokuto, kenma kozume

✦ MISC — keigo takami, aki hayakawa

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵

note: anything not listed, you are welcome to enquire about!

☑ WHAT I DO WRITE — praise kink, degradation kink, edging, overstimulation, ruined orgasms, bondage, impact play, sensory deprivation, dacryphilia, corruption kink/virgin!character, size kink, dumbification, pet play, hybrids, anal play, rimming, pegging, feminisation, mild sadism and masochism

☐ WHAT I MAY WRITE — breeding ( as long as it’s not reader being ‘bred’ ), mommy/daddy kink ( with reader being called mommy/daddy ), threesome/polyamory

☒ WHAT I DON’T WRITE — dark content ( yandere, pedophilia, incest/stepcest, cnc, noncon, dubcon etc. ) as well as dark themes in general ( suicide, self-harm, abuse etc. ), pregnancy, lactation/breastfeeding kink, a/b/o, oviposition, scat and kinks involving most bodily fluids ( spit, vomit, blood, piss etc. ), foot fetish, age play, big age gaps, infidelity

#( ★ ) navi.

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Helluva Boss Theory: Blitz Is Verosika, Fizz and Barbie’s Scapegoat...Part 1

[Note: Reading This Is Optional, also gonna put “not for kids” and “mature audience only” for this, just in case...] 

because of how I’m feeling right now, I will be breaking this into parts, possibly just two parts...

it might be possible that Blitzo, isn’t fully to blame for his bad luck in relationships, he just ends up in toxic-relationships that end up breaking his heart.

and what ever went down with Verosika, Fizz and Barbie, it might not of been fully Blitz’s fault, and yet he is made the scapegoat and all the blame is placed on him...

we only know some of the story between him and Verosika, and we do know that Blitz and Fizzy use to be best friends until something caused them to fall apart. 

we don’t know much about how Barbie and Blitzo were together during their childhood, but for all we know, Barbie’s poor relationship with her brother, could not be fully his fault and she doesn’t want to take some of the responsibility as to why it had become broken.

also I want to say, that I decided to check the AO3/Archive Of Our Own again, and it seems there is something different now. it says "We'll be back soon!" and even has some info that says it is currently offline due to a DDoS Attack.

and they are working on the mitigations and hope to return to service soon, and to stay tuned to the AO3 status on Twitter or on Tumblr for updates. well, guess things are looking up.

I am gonna make sure to keep a eye out and even if it might take time for AO3 to fully get better, I still hope it gets better soon, but how long it will be, well it might not be right away, but I’m gonna wish those who are working on the problems, some luck.

I hope no one was trying to update their story when that mess started, that would really suck....I know I brought this up before, when I posted that one post some hours ago, that talked about a bit about whats going on with AO3, and well at least we got a bit more info about it and hopefully it will be fixed soon.

anyway, back to the theory about Blitzo being made as Verosika, Fizzarolli and Barbie’s scapegoat, it is possible that there is more to the stories between Blitzo and those three, than just him being bad at relationships...

the problem with those three, is that they seem to want to pull that scapegoating, and make it seem that Blitz is to fully to blame for why their platonic and romantic relationships with Blitzo had broken and fell into pieces.

it is possible those three, had did some emotional damage to Blitz, which would explain how he acted at Bee’s Party, and once again it might be the Embodiment Queens that have more sense and possibly more empathy than the Embodiment Kings.

Bee might feed on the energy of some of the gluttony of others, but it might only be the positive side of it, and not the really bad negative side of it.

Bee could see that Blitzo was in emotional pain and know he was gluttonying in the wrong way and for the wrong reasons, and she wanted him to get some form of help and she possibly wanted him to feel better and could sense something deeply hurt him to the point of him drinking and kissing strangers for the wrong reasons.

(feel free to skip some of these parts and skip down to where it goes back to talking about the whole Blitzo being Verosika, Fizzarolli and Barbie’s scapegoat to their broken relationship with him. keep a eye out for the bold.)

I think the songs that would fit my feelings are "Monster" by KIRA, 2018 Song Called "Bulletproof" by Godsmack, "Bulletproof" by La Roux (yeah they both have the same name, but different lyrics.), "Break Me Shake Me" by Savage Garden, Undertale Parody Song Of "Stronger Than You" from Steven Universe....it would be the Chara Version of the Parody.   and the song "F*** You" by Lily Allen.

I like those songs, and well I think I had just learned about the Bulletproof by Godsmack, it is pretty good.

hopefully things can become a bit more better, and one of the things I can hope for is that I'm NOT Jesus's Descendant, don't mind if we are distant cousins (because we are both descendants of King David, but my being a descendant of King Solomon & His Son Rehoboam, still ain't a curse....it's a blessing, because I don't have to take that throne...)

I'm pretty sure that being Jesus's Descendant & Cain's Descendant, would be not so great because of some info I had found before....

and yeah, just because my blood type is O RH D Negative doesn't mean it is proof that I'm Jesus's Descendant, plus that blood type might of been around way before Jesus was born into human form...

also if it were possible and if I was allowed to by both the Heavenly Father & Earthly Mother, I would punch Archangel Samael so freaking hard on his arm....

I think I should try to do some stuff to make me more happy and do some healing, cause I am so tired of Male-Angels crossing lines they shouldn't freaking cross.

and there is possibly only a few I can trust not to push me to the limit...I want to try to hope things can get better, but even if it does, it doesn't change anything.... I don't think my trust issues with some Male-Angels (not just the Fallen ones...) can just be "fixed", not after some damage has already been done...

oh yeah, another song that would fit would be "Apologize" by OneRepublic... and I want people to try to understand my feelings and not tell me "you should give your full trust to them." and "I'm sure they have their reasons."

yeah, like I said....even if I can trust some Male-Angels.....but my trust for all of them, is not likely gonna be for a very long time....not after the messed up stuff that has been going on.

maybe with any luck, there are some Male-Angels & Female-Angels that are trying to fix things, and try to get more trust back....cause this Earth Angel Enbirl, will need to see some form of improvements...

a weird thought pop into my head just now, and it has to do with the Goddess calling Lucifer "Morning Sunshine", like it is a cute nickname....like a Mom would give to one of her babies...not sure if she would really call him that or if that is Lucifer's nickname, another thing that pop into my head is the word "Little Morning Sunshine", and "Sparkle Star"....

ya know, even if he still shouldn't of done it, but Lucifer could of waited to do his little rebellion until AFTER the balance between the Masculine & Feminine energies were fixed....

if the Earthly Mother Goddess allowed me to, I would slap Lucifer over the head....it is possible because it wasn't fixed during those times, the Masculine energy has been all infected with toxic energy...

and yeah, some of the toxic energy is in the feminine energy now, but lucky for us, it isn't as high as the masculine one...

it is possible that the energies has been trying fix the damage done to it, after some idiot human ancestors back in the days of the Indo-Europeans, had foolishly dethroned the Goddess...

lucky there was still some humans keeping the faith of her alive and well, and can we NOT use the word "woke" the way some people have been doing so...

it's bad enough some humans misuse that word, so please don't say I'm being "woke".....also I know it is possible I have been a bit bittersweet at times lately, but with the bull slag that has been going on for me, and the other stuff that is going on, I can at least try to do stuff to make me happy to help with those bittersweet feelings.

I mean I had to put up with some bull slag stuff in 2015, and I ended up a mess and at some point I couldn't take it and ended up in a depression, and oh let's not forget that even after I got better from that, it was either in 2016 or 2017 that I ended up falling into another one, and this time it wasn't because of family stuff going on in real life.

and it took time for that second depression to fully heal, and it felt maybe a lot more worse than that first one, even if I still had stuff and people to make me feel a little happy, but that not so great feeling was still there.

and when watching Boss Baby, I had laughed in a way that was a sign I was getting better, it was possibly one of the good signs that I was healing.

my personal space wasn't being respected enough in 2015, I couldn't even write or draw in private without one of our house guests coming into that room and invading my personal space...

it got so bad, that when I ended up showing a type of look, my much older cousin got on to me for it, and I had to go to the bathroom and cry....I was living in a personal heck...

if I was giving a "dirty look" or whatever, it's because you all wont stop coming into that room and just leave me the frag alone, I need my personal space, and I don't like people looking over my shoulder when I'm trying to draw or write, and I'm the "bad guy" for wanting you to stop invading my personal space?!

everyone needs their own personal space when they need to be left alone, and I hardly got that when we had some people staying over and they wouldn't stop coming into the room I was in.

I can still talk to others when I'm able to, but that stuff that happen before, I just can't stand how it went....I just like to be alone at times, like family can still be in the house...

but I rather be in a different room, by myself when I really need it....and it can suck when you do get that full happy energy back, it is once again taken away from you, and you be lucky to just have some happy energy left.

it can also suck when you are talking to someone, but they give off the whole "they are just looking for attention.", talking about another person....

and you might feel you can't truly tell them some deep and troubling feelings you have at times, because the thoughts you might get is that "they might think I'm just looking for attention as well."

like even if I can talk about some feelings, but maybe there are some things that I shouldn't talk about.....and there is some stuff I do keep to myself.

anyone not just me, would need time to be alone, and it can be to heal.

anyway, we might get more of the story between Blitz and those three in the future, from what we seen in a flashback in one of the episodes, it did appear that Blitz and Fizz were really close like brothers, but something happen between those two that cause them to hate each other. 

Blitz not hating Barbie, might of shown that he still held some form of hope to patch things up with her, but he might can do better than her...

he has a new family, even if it isn’t perfect, at least he found a kindred spirit with his daughter, Loona.

it might be possible that Blitzo, has emotional trauma, and one of them being his bad and toxic-relationships that involved Barbie, Fizz and Verosika.

the other emotional trauma, might have to do with his Mom, and we don’t know what happen to her or if she is still alive. 

there could be other emotional traumas that Blitzo has been hiding from everyone around him, and not just about his Mom or his Sister, or even Verosika and Fizzarolli. 

something must of happen in Blitzo’s past that had did some serious emotional harm, and we might find out more about it in the future, but it might be a while before we do so.  

it might be possible that Blitzo, had romantic feelings for Fizzarolli, if that hallucination he had has anything to go by....

each of those who showed up in his hallucination, were these characters...

Striker, Fizzarolli, Verosika and Moxxie.....and lastly, Stolas. 

those five were love interests, Blitzo possibly had formed feelings for Moxxie before Millie and Moxxie met each other, but Blitzo never really got to form a romantic relationship with Moxxie, but he still seems okay with Moxxie and Millie being together, and they might be viewed as his OTP.

Striker might of notice that Blitzo had formed a small crush on him, and used that to try to talk him into working together.

and it might be possible that Verosika was only with Blitzo, for just one thing...

which if her little solo song at Ozzie’s has anything to go by...

it is lucky Blitzo wasn’t a human, or else she would of sucked the life right out of him, even if it does turn out that Blitzo is a quarter succubus...

it is possible that the succubus, well the full succubus and not the hybrid ones, will be a bit more dangerous, if they take too much lustful energy and life force from humans, and if they take too much, it could cost the humans their life.

for demons, like hellborns and sinners, it only drains them enough to make them tired and make their stamina low.

also there might be a reason why Blitzo couldn’t please Verosika, and there might be a reason why he took off, and it wasn’t originally just to max her credit card on horse riding lessons, and it was originally to get away from Verosika and how she has been treating him. 

and if it is because how Verosika had treated him, and he only left to get a break from her and how she had been treating him...

even if she might be upset with him, but she could at least try to see from his point of view and how he might of not been happy with how things went between them, like he could of really loved her, but she made their relationship all about the physical love, and even if Blitzo might view Stolas’s actions being like Verosika’s....

it could turn out that it not fully true, because unlike Versoika, Stolas does care about Blitzo, and knows to treat him like a person with feelings.

Stolas would be willing to just sit with Blitz and just talk and maybe even talk about their feelings, that is how much he loves Blitz.

Blitz might of got use to being treated a certain way by those he formed a romantic relationship with or one-sided feelings for...

while it might be possible that his feelings were one-sided for Striker and Moxxie....it might be unknown with Fizzarolli, if it was one-sided on Blitz’s side or if it use to be mutual or if it was just platonic on both sides.

the weirdest thought, would be if Barbie might of had a Brother Complex, but the chances of that are VERY small, so it might not be likely and there could be other reasons as to why their relationship might not be the best.

Barbie didn’t appear in that hallucination of Blitzo, and those who did, appeared to be those that Blitzo had formed romantic feelings for, but they had ended up in heart break....and since Fizzarolli was in there, then maybe it was at first platonic and in time, Blitzo had formed feelings for Fizzarolli but something happen, and he possibly never got the chance to tell Fizzy how he truly felt.

Blitzo’s feelings to Barbie, is the family type of love and he does seem to care about his sister, even if things aren’t really the best between them right now.

and this theory might be debunked and I don’t really mind if it does, but my theory is that Barbie had formed a brother complex, which would mean that she saw Blitzo as more than just a brother, and I don’t mean just a friend....it is possible that the rehab place she was send to, wasn’t just for those who get hooked on beezle-juice, it might also be a type of rehab that helps with other problems as well...like those who form complexes...

it could be possible that Barbie could have formed her brother complex sometime before Stolas went to the circus with his Dad-Butler and his Bio-Dad Paimon...(still gonna view that Imp Butler as Stola’s True Dad, even if he isn’t his biological dad.)

before rehab, the feelings could of been small, and Blitz’s Mom had been taking Barbie to some form of therapy, possibly in the Sloth Ring, to help her daughter get over her small yet unhealthy crush on her brother.

but as the years went by, it only got worse and they had no other choice but to send Barbie to rehab.

Barbie might of got over her Brother Complex, but she could still end up placing the full blame on Blitz, even when he rejected her feelings.

but it could be possible that Barbie doesn’t have a brother complex, but something else was the cause of her and Blitz’s family bond breaking.                

fans could come up with different theories about Barbie and Blitz. 

and well, with any luck, the brother complex wouldn’t be canon, but I would be surprised if it did turn out to be true.

Blitz does love Barbie, but only as family and not anything beyond that.

and that theory about Barbie, having a crush on Blitz, might be incorrect.

and the broken relationship between those two, could be in the platonic zone.

while the broken relationship with Fizzarolli and Verosika are in the romantic zone, and Blitz could of had romantic feelings for Fizzarolli, who was possibly his first love, at first his feelings were platonic love for Fizzy, but over time it had grew into romantic feelings, but something happen to cause Blitz to resent Fizzarolli, even his Robotic Fizzarolli Copies...

Blitzo might not want to form a romantic relationship, but at the same time he still wants to, but because of bad experience and fear, but that might be only some of the reasons, and we might find out more about it in the future besides what we have seen so far.

Blitz might not be fully to blame for his relationships with Verosika, Fizzarolli and Barbie had broke and fell apart.

and yeah, even if not everyone has to agree on this theory, I think it could still be possible that that those three have been scapegoating Blitzo, and not taking part of the blame on why their platonic and romantic relationship with him had fell apart, and even became a toxic-relationship.

anyway, I will talk more about this theory about Fizzarolli, Verosika and Barbie scapegoating in the Part 2 of this...

I’m going to check out a few more stuff on here, and then watch some show or movie...or both, like watching a show first and then a movie...

also if by chance some didn’t skip some of the off topic stuff...

I hope some can understand why I feel like punching Archangel Samael on the arm, and if if the Heavenly Father & Earthly Mother allowed me to do so...

I would gladly punch him in the arm, like REALLY hard....

also I hope friends and other people, understand and respect on my feelings, like how I at times need to be alone for some time to myself.

anyway I think I am a bit tired, maybe after checking out a few more stuff on here, I will go to sleep...and it might not be today, and maybe not tomorrow, but I will try to find time when I can to write the part 2 of this, that has to do with Verosika, Barbie and Fizzarolli’s scapegoating Blitzo.

not everyone has to agree on that theory, but I still think it is possible that Blitzo isn’t the only one at fault for the broken relationships that involve those three.

maybe I can try to do some form of meditation, which just has me closing my eyes and listening to music, and I think I will listen to the song “Release Me” by Agnes. and maybe after listening to that song, I can listen to “don’t go breaking my heart” by Agnes.

not all meditations have to be 100% the same, not even the music that is listen to during it....and yeah, it might be weird, but those songs are great to listen to for meditation, and if I want to close my eyes and do some form of meditation that has me listening to them, then I will. I can try that later...

and with how some toxic-humans have been triggering me in the wrong way, maybe it be good to do some meditation and listen to some music at the same time, it might help a lot and well that, and reading some of the books I have, as well as watching some episodes of some shows I like and even a movie...

but if it turns out I am not able to to find a movie to watch today, I can try for tomorrow....anyway, if I’m not able to make a part 2 of this theory about Blitzo being Barbie Wire, Verosika Mayday and Fizzarolli’s scapegoat this month.

I will try to make part 2 maybe next month instead...                                                                     

#verosika mayday helluva boss #fizzarolli helluva boss #barbie wire helluva boss #helluva boss theory #blitzo helluva boss #scapegoat #scapegoating #emotional trauma #toxic relationship #mature audiences only #not for kids #july 2023 #Part 1

[lovevalley45]

the quesarito bliss

It starts, as a lot of things in her life has lately, with a weird text from Nate.

yoga stoner: we can finally enjoy quesarito bliss together

Zari stares at the message blankly for about two minutes, breaking her intense conversation on making a birthday present for Ava. The beanie is left abandoned in pursuit of answers for this puzzle her boyfriend has handed her. 

z: ……..

z: how high are you right now

yoga stoner: just a teeny bit i’m chillin with sara it’ss fine

yoga stoner: we got taco bell delivered cuz ya know. munchies

yoga stoner: well u wouldn’t but!

yoga stoner sent her a photo

She zooms in on the screenshot. Black Bean Quesarito. Huh.

Obviously, meatless options were becoming much more popular these days. This was something she was very thankful for, because it was rare to find a McDonalds that used halal meat in their chicken nuggets. But, even without that barrier, Zari had never longed for a quesarito.

There was still a little part of her that wondered what the fuck was so good about them, though. It was a burrito wrapped in a quesadillo, from Taco-fucking-Bell. 

z: our taco bell? tomorrow night at 10?

yoga stoner: why so late

z: i’m afraid to go there during the day

z: i can’t be spotted at taco bell

yoga stoner: noted

--

Their fateful date at the Taco Bell by Highway 19 is nothing special. Nate picks her up in his Prius, they head down there and pretend heading to a Taco Bell at 10 PM is a thing normal people do.

“It’s still our Taco Bell,” he says as he parks. “Time doesn’t exist in Taco Bell.”

“That’s not how time works. It doesn’t stop when we walk into a fast food establishment,” Zari replies. 

“No, but it stops when I look in your eyes.” He gives her a goofy grin, and although his sappier lines tend to make her roll her eyes, she leans in to kiss him across the console.

It’s the chipper cashier again, who doesn’t bat an eye when Nate casually uses the phrase ‘quesarito bliss’ as they’re giving her their order. 

Zari is considering starting a jar for him to drop a quarter in every time he says it. Maybe she can save up so they can go check out that bar with arcade games downtown. It’d definitely be worth it.

She briefly considers texting Mona about it as a joke, but then she has to explain the whole Taco Bell thing. The good thing about having a vegetarian as a roomate, she’s learned, is not having to worry about the whole takeout/cooking meals situation. The halal market is a few too many blocks away for her to be too torn up about a 75% meat-free diet. 

At least she gets first dibs on the shrimp fried rice when they order Chinese. She can complain about the matchmaking attempts, but when it comes to everything else, Mona’s a pretty cool roomie. 

When their order arrives, Nate hands her the black bean quesarito like it’s a bar of gold and not a limp burrito. He looks far too happy about it. 

“What is up with you and this quesarito business, anyways?” Zari asks as she unwraps it. 

He shrugs. “Maybe it’s a good luck food. After all, I got it that first time we came here, then the night of Sara and Ava’s wedding.”

The quesarito is nothing impressive. There’s fake grill marks on it, a little bit of the filling squeezing out as she picks it up. 

“Cheers, I guess.” She holds it out so he can tap his against it, before taking a bite.

One word - oozy. It’s a lot less solid that she thought it would be. But it’s not half-bad, despite that she can feel a tiny bit of sauce dripping down her hand.

Zari looks up at Nate and meets him in the eyes. He’s smiling at her, looking like he’s about to burst into laughter. “What?”

“You got some -” He chuckles a little before picking up a napkin. “Like, right on your lip.”

She puts it down, letting a little bit of the gooey insides leak out onto the wrapper. There’s indeed a spot of the cheese sauce on her lip, along with the smear on her hand. “That is- so messy, how do you eat that?”

“Yeah, I think the other ones are more solid,” Nate says. He still looks ridiculously humored by the whole situation, the trial and error of Taco Bell’s meatless options. “Are you experiencing Quesarito Bliss™?”

Her only answer is a half-hearted shrug. “I’ve had better burritos.”

“No one really comes to Taco Bell with the finest of burritos in mind, Z,” he replies. “Let me try.”

After dating for five months, sharing food isn’t really an issue for them. But she sees why Nate couldn’t hold in his laughter as he takes a bite. It’s still gooey, an almost unbelievable amount of filling making its way out of the tortilla. He wipes away a bit of sauce with the back of his head as he chews. 

“Definitely more gooey,” he says with his mouth full. 

“That’s what she said,” Zari mutters.

He chokes back a laugh before he swallows. “What, before she ate out her girlfriend?”

“Oh, God, dude,” she says, giggling. 

“You started it!”

And yeah, maybe this is what he meant by Quesarito Bliss. Laughing while eating semi-decent fast food, making stupid jokes and returning back to their roots.

Zari smiles, kicking him under the table. “I’m feeling it.”

“Isn’t that McDonalds?”

“Firstly, I’m pretty sure their thing is ‘I’m Lovin’ It’. But no, I’m feeling the bliss.”

Nate blinks. “The Quesarito Bliss?”

“Yes, Nate. I’m feeling it.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds, daring the other to break into laughter. She breaks first, still looking at his eyes. 

As he starts laughing again, he says, “I’m so copyrighting that.”

#alli writes shit #legends of tomorrow #steelhacker #nate heywood #zari tomaz #head over heels #taco bell is either gonna sponsor me or sue me for this fic it's gr8 #if i am bold i might post this on AO3. might. possibly. #anyways fun fact i've never actually had a quesarito #so. take this stupid taco bell fic #congrats

[forget-mad-not]

hi there! (Writing About Works In Progress / WAWIP #1)

here's a post with my possible future fanfiction plans!

(because i feel bold enough to share these with you cool people out there) (and i'd like to feel a bit productive, even though i'm very much not) (and i need motivation to get through exam season) (and maybe someone will be interested) (might delete later)

below the cut are some work titles and brief summaries as they live in my head right now, please, check the tags for fandoms, characters and ships!

(and look, tiny but shameless ao3 ad!)

(ps from the future: i reserve the right to make changes to these stories as they take final form.)

(the gif is a paid actor for attention seeking)

... would you like to play that we die?

fandom: unus annus

an unus annus alternate origin (and obviously ending) story about these idiots (TWO idiots!!!), memento and mori, as they get to know each other, as they try to get through the history of humankind, as they try to be, and then live, and eventually... as they try to die? (this will be so much more poetic than the channel itself would indicate, but i can't help myself.)

if you read that short thing i wrote for @ukulillii's birthday (IT'S DEATH, JIM, RUN!), you already know about mori. kinda. but there's a whole sappy backstory out there. the plot has to thicken, am i right?

A Voice Found Me. It Wasn't Ḿ̸͠i̢͞n̴̨͡͠é̶̡.

fandom: markiplier and jacksepticeye egos

a sequel? a continuation?? a spin-off??? whatever, it's for Story of A P̢u̵p͠p̕e͘t (Regarding Lost Things), from jameson's (tortured, almost completely deprived of his personality, condemned to nothing more than a cruel puppeteering) perspective. i want to experiment even more with writing styles and character voices, plus i really like the interesting chemistry of the host and jj. how their stories can be paralleled and contrasted.

dreams; an entity sings of broken reflections

fandom: markiplier egos (who killed markiplier?) / darkstache (they're husbands, your honour)

this is actually two song-based oneshots! 2in1! with very specific, very easter-egg-like word counts! to parallel each other! to mirror each other! like... a broken reflection. you get it.

in save us from our own two heads: torturing pre!wkm actor mark's dream while he's utterly alone <;3 (affectionate) (i feel sorry for him actually)

in stand up and shake this heart: torturing darkiplier's dream while wilford's sleeping next to them <;3 (also affectionate) (sounds less sad. i will make it sad. that's a promise and a threat.)

some experimental headcanons, with some elements of dream symbolism, and the challenge of whether i can actually write them in the word count i had planned. and i like dream sequences.

I'll Tell Youse Something About Yancy's Childhood

fandom: markiplier egos (who killed markiplier? / a heist with markiplier)

i'll tell youse something! as a son of (actor) mark and celine, yancy's childhood in the markiplier manor was... quite interesting. a bit lonely maybe. he can't remember much of it, though. he knows that - silly thing - he had an imaginary friend. it darkened the dark corners, whispered sweetly from the walls, and was always there when yancy felt alone.

so it's all about child!yancy and the house entity interacting. that's the whole premise. inspired by a scene in elisabeth - das musical. and here i want to crank up the 1920s/gatsby vibe to the max.

my heart-strings are tangled / please, cut-cut-cut them all

fandom: jacksepticeye egos / antistein

i made a reckless promise that one day i would write something... nice with anti and henrik.

well, when i write this, it won't be that day. this will be angst at its finest. (but i think @florenceisfalling, for example, will forgive me for this. right? ... right?)

but what can you do with a doctor and a demon, whose character flaws only fuel each other's until one of them (fatefully) burns out?even if none of them want that to happen. it seems like a preordained tragedy.

this story is so far the least developed of all, but i can already see that anti's little puppet-master skills will be very much at the centre of events, and that it will hurt, but in a very poetic way. ... fffffucking hell, i love them so much.

wow. if you are reading this now, you've actually reached the end of the post. so you've probably made your way through this list. which is incredibly nice, and thank you very much! (and i hope i haven't disturbed anyone's peaceful browsing.)

if you have any questions or comments about these fic plans, feel free to write and ask! ✨

(like, which one interests you most or something. no one is obliged to, of course, but then i might really feel i've been productive)

#markiplier #jacksepticeye #unus annus #crankgameplays #memento mori #unus / memento #annus / mori #who killed markiplier #a heist with markiplier #actor mark #darkiplier #darkstache #celine the seer #damien the mayor #yancy the prisoner #the host #danger in fiction #jameson jackson #henrik von schneeplestein #antisepticeye #antistein #markiplier egos #jse egos #fanfiction #ao3 #my works #angst #hurt/comfort #ego shipping

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Take Care of Me

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Words = 5.5k

Summary = A discussion about sex toys turns into something more … concrete

Warnings = Swearing, talk/description of mild anxiety. SMUT (18+ only), use of handcuffs in a sexy way, oral, piv sex

A/N = Prompt no.8 requested by @itspdameronthings​ as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” w/santi and bolded in text. Also 3 things; 1 = Tom doesn’t exist in this AU, 2 = this is basically pure smut im so sorry, and 3 = I did do head hopping in this, which I know you’re not like supposed to do but also fuck the rules y’know?

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

***

It’s always easy to be loose after one of Benny’s fights.

It’s a heady mix of adrenaline, beer and testosterone, swirling together into a mix that makes you forget your normal boundaries. You’re normally quite brazen about your sex life anyway, but there is a line. You respect your partners, and there’s no need for your teammates to know too much.  

You’re all packed into a half-moon booth, Benny straddling a chair that he pulled up to the table after he spent too long chatting up the bartender.

It’s a small comment from Benny (because of course it’s Benny), saying that you haven’t got laid in a while, and you’re honestly surprised he noticed. But then, that’s the only predictable thing about Benny, that he is unpredictable.

Your surprise means you take a little too long actually thinking about it, which confirms Benny’s statement. You lean back a little in your seat, desperately ignoring Santi, who’s sat to your left. It also means you bite back a little harder in defence.

“Well maybe if you guys didn’t look like you’re about to murder anyone who even dares ask for my number maybe I’d have better luck.” That’s a lie, but there’s no way you’re going to tell them the truth. No way you’re going to tell Santi-

Your thoughts are interrupted by Will, sat to your right. “So you’re asking for our help?”

You scoff, hitting him up the head. “No, thank you.” Will knows why. Because of course he does. One of your oldest friends, he’d been the one who convinced you to join the team in the first place. “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”

You send a wink down to the table to Benny, who’s the first to catch on, hollering, and you try not to react to Santi leaning forward, suddenly interested, as though you’re not already hyper-aware of every body movement of his.

You continue, deciding you’re quite enjoying the effect you’ve had. “What do I need some stranger for when I can give myself a better orgasm than he could ever dream of?” You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin, as both Benny and Will holler, gaining a few glares from the pub’s other patrons.

That sip means you’re unprepared for Santi to lean in closer to you, his lips so close to your ear that you can feel his breath. “Maybe ‘stranger’ is where you’re going wrong.”

You swallow, unprepared for the sudden flare of attraction shooting through you and turning your head, just as he says, “I could take care of you.”

You catch a glimpse of Santi’s fuck me eyes when Benny (the dickhead) interrupts. Crossing his arms on the sticky table in front of him, he asks, “Does that mean you have toys?”

Frankie’s hat somehow tips lower on his head, if that’s possible.

Will twitches towards his brother, like he wants to strangle Benny for being so uncouth, but you put your hand on his upper arm. “Of course.” The best course of action is to just act like this is normal, so add a bit of air to your voice. This was normal. “Who doesn’t?”

There’s a blush rising on Benny’s cheeks and you can’t help but stoke it, grinning at him, and attempting your best bedroom eyes. He’s still not too ashamed to ask though. “What kinds?”

Will decides he’s had enough, glancing at Santi behind you with a frown and hitting Benny over the head in an imitation of the way you’d hit him. You laugh, unexpectedly pleased at the reaction you’ve gotten. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Benny nods, eager, even as Will stands, grabbing a hold of him, and steering him towards the bar. “Yes! Yes I would!” He manages to throw back at you and you laugh again, twisting your body to face Santi and Frankie, bringing your left leg onto the bench.

***

Meanwhile Santiago is in hell. He’s been in multiple hellish situations before, most similar to this one, in that it was always the 5 of you, bullets flying around your heads, rifles in your arms, weighed down by heat and sweat and tac vests.

And yet somehow, he thinks this might be the worst. Your foot next to his thigh, your knee bent, pulling your jeans up your leg and exposing your ankle to him. Watching you flirt with Benny, talking about sex, and toys, and masturbation. When that's all he wants to do with you. He just has to get the courage to tell you.

With you, there was a before in Santi’s life, and an after.

Before he knew you; and after he knew you.

Before he loved you; and after he loved you.

Except Santi’s not quite sure when he fell in love with you.

It started when Will introduced you as the newest member of the team, one of his childhood friends. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he treated you like he treated anyone else, quickly discovering that you weren’t like anyone else.

He welcomed you into his life with open arms, starting off innocently - he wanted to spend time with you. You were Will’s friend, which meant that there must be something good about you. You made him laugh, made him feel safe (even when he wasn’t). He’d wanted to do the same for you and thought he did a pretty good job.

He became your friend, until one day the two of you were watching a film. He can’t remember what it was, just that you were at his house, drinking and laughing and talking, huddled in one of his blankets, and looking like you belonged there, forever.

Falling in love with you was so easy, Santi didn’t even realise he was doing it.

Santi’s still impressed with himself that he didn’t just blurt out the words then and there. I love you.

How long had he been in love with you for? He couldn’t pinpoint down a specific moment. He remembered the night when you’d become friends - the last two around the bonfire, toasting marshmallows, making that awkward small-talk that occurs between acquaintances.

You’d made him laugh, playing chubby-bunny and teasing him until he’d had a go. You’d talked and talked, and Santi can’t even remember what about. Nothing, probably. The basics. Boring stuff, but filled with details that he’d used to keep the conversation going the next day.

He knows when he became your friend. Recognised when you trusted him more than the others, with the exception of maybe Will.

But he didn’t know when he fell in love with you. Just the day that the love became so overwhelming in his chest that he realised it.

The real nail in his metaphorical coffin was the night afterwards. The 5 of you had gone to a bar, and a girl had started talking to him as he was buying drinks. She was pretty, but she wasn’t you. And like a flashbulb, all of Santi’s previous partners flew through his mind and he realised that nothing had ever come out of them because they weren’t you.

They didn’t know how he liked his coffee, or why he had joined the military. They didn’t know the story behind his callsign, or what his favourite song was.

You did. What you weren’t there for, you asked about. You remembered. You made him feel important, like he mattered. In ways that he didn’t even really know existed.

You were the one that started him on decaf without telling him. That had been a conversation and a half. Before morning briefings, you’d started bringing him coffees. He hadn’t noticed much of a taste difference, and shamefully, had come to expect them.

Until, a month later, you weren’t there. A small trip home to visit your family, everyone knew you’d be back in a couple of days. Regardless, Santi had ordered what he’d thought was his usual coffee.

And found his anxiety rearing up again. It was subtle, making him more jumpy, less able to sleep, but it was there. He wasn’t sure what the cause was, definitely hadn’t linked it to the coffee, instead assuming that maybe he just missed you. Maybe because his anxiety hadn’t disappeared all the way, even with decaf. Maybe it was because it was your presence that helped him too.

He hadn’t even really noticed when the caffeine was gone, hadn’t noticed the absence of something wrong, only seeing the contrast when it returned. Maybe because it was gradual, the weaning off the caffeinated coffee, whereas the return, with his request of additional shot, had been too sharp for him.

You hadn’t noticed at first, assuming that Santi’s bear hug when he’d first seen you had just been because he missed you. But after lunch you pulled him to one side.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes are slightly wider with worry, and you’re chewing slightly on your bottom lip.

He hates that he’s the one to do that to you, and he tries to brush it off. “I’m fine.” That was his first mistake. His second was trying to push past you.

“Santiago!” He’s pulled up short, and there’s that tension, pulling at his shoulders, his eyebrows. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Your tone of voice hasn’t changed, but this time it’s a command.

Exhausted, hating himself, Santi drags his hands across his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t...I don’t know.” He takes a breath, and it shudders through him. “I don’t know.” He sounds defeated, and he hopes you can’t hear it. “I just...I feel…” How does he feel? “Jittery.” Is what he finally settles on, but the word still feels wrong somehow.

You frown, looking him up and down like you’ve never seen him before. In fact, you’re silent for so long, Santi starts to be worried that you’re going to tell him to stop being so fucking ridiculous.

You don’t, but you ask questions.

Has he been sleeping? “Not really.”

Does he have something big coming up? “Just the usual.”

Has his daily routine changed at all? “No, I don’t think so. I get myself a coffee in the morning and the-”

You interrupt him with a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.” And now it’s wrong, because now you’re looking at him like it’s your fault, when it definitely isn’t. “Santi I’m sorry. It’s your coffee.”

Santi frowns. His coffee? And you sound so apologetic, and he doesn’t understand why. “I switched you to decaf.” You can’t meet his eyes any more, gaze skittering to his shoulder with nerves. And you’re not shutting up. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, or asked if I could, I just... I knew you were getting nightmares, and decaf helped me so I thought it might help y-”

Santi cuts you off with a hug.

And now, the three of you sat in the booth, he hates himself for agreeing with Benny. He would like to know. He has a sneaking suspicion, odd little comments you’ve made throughout the years that when pieced together, paint a picture. A very vivid picture that he sometimes uses to torture himself, late at night in bed, imagining what you’d look like with your hands between your legs and wrapping a hand around his-

Santi shakes his head. Now is not the time. There’s never really a good time to fantasise about one of your best friends, but in public when they’re sitting next to you, is definitely one of the worst.

And why did he have to offer to take care of you? Did he think he was in some kind of cheesy porno? What if you hated him-

In the end, it’s you who breaks him out of his thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed Pope.” You push out with your foot, lightly kicking his thigh, unable to read his stony face.

Throughout all of this, Frankie has kept quiet, and now the conversation seems like it’ll be returning to safer ground, he rubs a hand over his face, lifting his hat slightly. “No.” Santi protests, although he says it too fast for it to be sincere. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Good,” you reply, and Santi can see the moment a thought pops into your head that you can’t resist, he can see it in the way your eyes light up with mischief. “Out of all the boys, I figured you’d be the most likely to use toys.”

Frankie quickly slides out from his seat, muttering something about going to the toilet, his cheeks aflame, as Santi chokes a little on his beer. “Or maybe Will,” you muse, and Santi coughs again. “Shit, are you alright?” You ask, rocking forward to lean on your knee so you can rub Santi’s back for a second.

He concentrates on getting himself back under control, on not focusing how warm your hand is against his back. He takes deep breaths in an attempt to calm his heart down, praying that the room is dark enough that you won’t see him blush.  

Santi nods, his eyes watering a little, and you laugh, but it’s not unkind, not even when one of your thumbs wipes at his lower lash line, brushing away his tears with the pad. It’s so unexpectedly soft, another sharp contrast to this sticky, seedy bar they’re all in, where the booth seats are cracked and the most complicated drink they make is a rum and coke.

“Good,” you say, voice quiet, scooting back on the bench, your foot closer to his thigh this time, and Santi hates himself for wanting to follow you.

Instead, he pretends everyone else is still here, even as he watches Will whisper something into Benny’s ear as they stand, drinking next to the bar, with no clear intention of returning. Suddenly Benny punches Will’s upper arm, and Santi’s eyebrows twitch slightly in confusion. Benny looks ecstatic, and for what?

“I’ve used handcuffs,” he says casually, half of his mind taken up with Benny and Will acting like lunatics at the bar behind you. He’s wrenched back to you when you raise an eyebrow, and he’s reminded what it feels like to be the centre of your world.

Fuck, you’re sexy though.

***

Your heart beat speeds up, suddenly sounding loud in your chest. Your mind is screaming Danger! at you - but how can it be? This is Santiago. You would trust him with your life. You have.

I could take care of you, flashes through your mind again. Maybe-

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to act calm when there’s a steady thrumming under your skin. “And are you the tied up person, or do you do the tying?”

Santi scoffs, like he thinks the answer is obvious. Maybe it is.

“I do the tying.”

You smirk, dragging an exaggerated eye up and down his body. “Sure about that?”

He looks relaxed, like he can take up more space now Frankie has gone. One of his hands is on your calf, gently trailing up and down, slowly setting you on fire, and you don’t even think he realises he’s doing it. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t recognise, darker, although it seems familiar. That’s been happening more and more lately, especially when it’s just the two of you. You like it.

“You want to test me babygirl?”

You feel breathless. “Maybe I’d like to try.”

You’ve never spoken with Santi like this before. You flirt with him more than the other boys, but this is new. This feels...real, somehow. More dangerous. And he’s closer now, shifting, so your foot is over his lap, his hand wrapped around your ankle, on your bare skin and you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You watch his hand move on your leg and you feel like you could evaporate.  

“That’s not what good girls do.” Fuck, his voice.

“Good girls don’t do a lot of things I do.”

And you’re not sure what gives you the sudden confidence, but you lean forwards, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. It’s a horrible angle, your legs in the way, but you don’t care.

And then you’re retreating, opening your eyes again, suddenly unsure of what you’ve just done. Your mouth feels tingly, where you can still feel Santi against you. His grip has tightened on your leg, no longer moving.

And then his hand is tugging at you a little, and there’s a smile threatening to take over his face.

Come here.

You scoot up, so your left leg is fully over him, your right leg tangling with his under the table and you can smell him now, beer and - as weird as it sounds - like a man. It’s familiar. Nice. Breathless, you shoot him a little grin, suddenly unsure.

And then he’s kissing you again and it’s everything you ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, but firm, moving against your mouth, contrasting with the slight stubble growing on his face. His free hand moves to your waist and you let out a small sound.

You break apart after a second, both of you breathless. You’ve slung your arms around his neck, fingers idly playing with his chain, and you’re the first to speak.

“So do you use those handcuffs on anyone?”

Santi kisses you again, short and sweet, before he answers, his lips mumbling against yours. “Hmm, just on girls I really like.”

You kiss again, neither of you really wanting to stop. “Can I use them on you?” Santi asks, moving to kiss along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe. You feel surrounded by him, he’s all you care about, all you can feel.

Your eyes snap open, desire pooling in your belly. Is this really happening? “Yes.”

“Good.” Santi’s voice is still low in your ear, before he moves down your neck, soft lips a stark contrast to his stubble catching on your skin. “How do you feel about a date, too?”

“Yeah?” You lean back slightly so you can see his face. He’s beautiful in this light, face half hidden in the shadows, eyes dark.

His lips are brushing yours again.

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up, take you somewhere nice, do it properly.”

“Good,” you mumble against him, “that sounds really good.” Your fingers are still playing with his chain, lightly brushing against the scar on his neck. “Shall we go?”

Before you know it, the two of you are sitting in a cab, having said a quick goodbye to the others, Will asking if it was safe for them to sit back in the booth. You’d responded with the finger, not bothering with a proper reply.

Santi leans over to you, whispering into your ear. “Can I really tie you up?”

You clench your thighs together, closing your eyes in an effort not to physically respond. The pause is enough for Santi to hesitate, hand shyly holding yours. “It’s ok, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, it was just a-”

You stop him with a kiss, moving your hand so you can squeeze him in reassurance. When you answer, it’s a mumble against his mouth so the driver doesn’t hear. “Break out the handcuffs, and we’ll see if you’re as tough as you act, big boy.”

Santi groans when you lean away from him.

Getting inside Santi’s flat is a feat in itself, and you’re honestly a little proud of the restraint both of you showed by not fucking in the stairwell, stopping every couple of meters to kiss each other senseless, hips clumsily knocking together as you rile each other up.

You’ve been inside his flat before, so when Santi kicks the door closed, walking you backwards into his bedroom, kissing you all the while, you don’t protest. It’s so nice to finally kiss Santi like you’ve wanted to for a while now, so nice to feel his hands on your waist, pushing you backwards while his hips press into yours, steady now, purposeful.

His fingers are playing with the waist of your trousers, and you help him, shimmying your jeans off, pushing them down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. Then he surprises you, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your knickers down your legs.

Looking down, you feel dizzy from the rush of power this brings you. Santi looks like he’s about to worship you, his face close to your pussy. His hands are on your waist and he pushes at you, encouraging you to step back.

When you don’t he tips his head back, exposing his neck to you. “Step back.” His voice is dangerous and you can feel more wetness gathering between your legs. You grin down at him, still not moving.

In response Santi nips at your thigh, grinning when you gasp, hands flying to his hair. He pushes at you again, and this time you let him, stepping back until you hit his bed, sitting down.

Santi presses his hand against your stomach, and you allow yourself to be pushed back, falling back onto your elbows so you can watch him. He presses his nose to your mound and you squirm, impatient, as Santi spreads your knees so he can fit between your legs.

You watch him press his nose to your pussy, burying his nose in you, feeling yourself grow wetter. “You taste so good,” he groans, “Sweetest pussy I’ve tasted.” As he begins to explore you with his tongue, your hips lift off the bed with a groan and it takes you a second to recognise your own voice, broken with need. Santi’s arm reaches out, pressing you down as he explores your folds. Stubble is scratching your thighs, a pleasantly rough feeling compared to the soft wetness, the pliability of Santi’s tongue. Your clit is the first thing he concentrates on, his tongue practically lapping at you, and it all feels so good.

One hand is desperately fisting the sheets to the side of you as you try to hold on to reality, the other knotted in Santi’s short curls, nails scraping ever so slightly along his scalp even as he lifts you higher and higher. Broken pleas of his name fall from your lips when he inserts two fingers into you, gently pumping in and out, with a strangely satisfying squelch under your cries.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and unsuspecting. One second your chest is heaving, breaths short and shallow, the next you’ve tensed up as you fall apart under Santi.

He keeps kissing you, gently pressing his lips over your thighs, hips, stomach as you stare at his ceiling, willing rational thought to return to you. He’s murmuring praises into your skin, telling you how good you are for him, what a good job you’ve done, how pretty you look when you come, how he wants to make you do it again, and all the while you float somewhere above your body, hardly daring to believe this is real. Santi keeps kissing you, any skin he can get his mouth on, desperate to keep tasting you. Gradually he moves up your body, even as you lie there, panting, letting him push your top up, bunching under your arms and around your neck.

Your hands fly to his hair when he bites the soft skin of your breast peeking out from your bra, and you arch your back towards him slightly, letting out a small whine. You can feel his smirk against you, so you wrap your legs around his waist, canting your hips up, grinding against where you can feel him, hard and aching in his jeans.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, slow and lazy when Santi lets out a low growl in response. He tips his head up so he can look at you, his eyes soft as he smiles at you. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

And then his body weight is gone and he’s standing next to the bed, taking his top off and it’s not the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, of course it isn’t, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him and been allowed to look, and Santi’s all shadows and soft muscle, pale scars highlighted on his skin.

You sit up, and it takes you a second to fight your way out of your top, quickly sliding the straps of your bra off, and dropping your clothes to the side of the bed as you watch Santi cross his room, and fish out a pair of handcuffs from a box with a couple of other objects inside, as well as what you’re pretty sure looks like a strap-on. And maybe it’s because his ass is currently in your eye-line, maybe it’s the surprise, but the image of you wearing it, teasing Santi with your dick while he waits on all fours on his bed, begging for you to touch him, suddenly pops into your head, and you have to work to hold back a moan at the mental image. Oh my god.

When Santi turns back to you, he’s opened the cuffs. “Are you familiar with the traffic light system?”

You suddenly feel nervous, your mouth dry, and you don’t know why, this is Santi. He’s made it clear that you don’t have to do this, and anyway you want to. “Green is good, orange is slow down, red is stop,” you recite easily, and Santi nods in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he says and his words hit deep in your stomach, unfurling something you hadn’t known existed. “You say something and I’ll untie you.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back on your hands, eyeing up the way Santi’s jeans are still on, now hanging low on his hips, exposing a small trail of hair down from his bellybutton. “What if I don’t want you to untie me?” You ask.

You can see how his eyes darken, but he doesn’t move. “Tell me you understand,” he says, voice stern and you shiver.

“I understand,” you parrot. Santi nods, pleased at you doing as he says, and steps out of his jeans, pulling his boxers off at the same time, releasing his cock. He’s hard, curving up towards his stomach and leaking pre-cum.

Almost on instinct, you lean forwards to lick it off, and Santi lets out a groan of satisfaction at the sensation of your mouth just wrapping around his head, your hands on his thighs. Before you can take him any further, he’s stepping back, shaking his head.

“Lie back,” he instructs, and you obey. Santi kneels next to you, tugging your wrists up, above your head, looping the handcuffs through his headboard and clicking them on around you. You give them an experimental tug, biting back a moan when they hold fast. “Colour?” Santi asks, and you grin up at him.

“Green.” Your voice already sounds broken. “Santi, please.”

Santi just kneels back, looking at you with those hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out, hands running up and down your body, ignoring how you squirm as best you can under him.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “Why don’t you come down here then, instead of just watching me?” Santi’s hands reach your breasts, squeezing and gently massaging and you arch your back towards him.

“You’re unhappy with my hands?” Santi returns, and stops touching you. You can’t help it, letting out a whine and straining to move your arms towards him, before remembering you can’t, your attempted movement jangling the chain a little.

“No, Santi,” you’re desperate for him to touch you again, especially now you can’t touch him,“Santi please, touch me again, touch me more.” Begging has never come so easily to you. And then Santi’s moving between your legs, gripping your hips and thrusting up, but not into you, just along your folds. You moan, shifting as best as you can while Santi coats himself with your slick, the head of his cock just pushing your clit, teasing you and riling you up further.

You suddenly really want to touch him, to rake your hands through his hair, to scratch your nails down his back, to be able to suck a purple hickey into his skin. You let your head fall back to the bed, pushing your hips towards him, desperate for more, desperate for him.

It’s only when you open your mouth in a desperate plea, a whine of his name, “Santi, Santi please,” that he begins to push into you.

Your mouth falls open in silent pleasure, just as Santi begins to talk. “Fuck, baby.” The stretch of him is delicious. “I wanted this for so long.” Now fully seated in you, he rests on his forearms, kissing you softly, first on the forehead, then on your lips. “Colour?” he asks softly.

You nearly cry from how sweet it is, how sweet he is, before responding, a mumble against his lips. “Green.” You feel full, like this is how you’re supposed to feel all the time, this is your base state, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life trying to achieve this specific feeling.

“Good girl,” Santi murmurs and you keen at the praise, feeling insatiable, wanting more, clenching around him. He grins, registering your response. “You liked that? You like being told what a good job you’re doing, how good you feel around me..” he breaks off with a gasp, and your eyes close as Santi begins to move in time with his words, long, slow thrusts as he begins to put you together again, building you up, further and further, his thrusts speeding up gradually, the sound of his dick sliding into your wetness, and the slap of skin-on-skin loud in his room, mixing with your moans.

You lift your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, hooking one of your feet around Santi’s butt. They don’t stay there for long, one of Santi’s arms pushing one leg up your body, hand under your knee as he splits you open. The new angle hits something deeper in you, and you gasp, unable to move and at the mercy of Santiago.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, coming out of nowhere, your lower body suddenly clenching around Santi, arms straining against the handcuffs, as you try in vain to touch him. You tumble through it, muscles spasming as you fall under him. He keeps moving into you as you shudder below him, pulling you through with murmured praise and encouragement as another broken cry leaves your throat.

His thrusts start to get sloppier as he goes faster, losing his rhythm slightly and you can tell he’s near his end. As best you can, you start moving your own hips, grinding up to meet him, words of encouragement slipping past your lips. “Santi, you feel so good, are you gonna fill me up?” You coo, pouting a little, tugging your wrists a little for emphasis. “Please Santi, I want to feel you, come in me, please-”

You stop when Santi snaps his hips once more, with a groan of finality and you can feel his cum inside of you as he holds himself there, his cock pulsing within you. He presses a couple more gentle kisses to your neck before sliding out, and you hiss slightly at the pull on your sensitive folds of your pussy.

He leaves for a second, returning with a key and gently releasing your wrists. “Good girl,” he murmurs, massaging your skin. “You did so good for me.”

He helps you sit up, kissing your cheek before leaving again. This time when he returns, he has a wet rag, and a glass of water, which you take a sip from, not having realised how thirsty you were. He gently dabs the rag on the inside of your thighs first, and the two of you watch in slightly morbid fascination as Santi’s cum leaks out of you onto the rag.

“That’s kinda hot,” you comment idly, wondering if Santi fucked all sense of you.

He only laughs, wiping the mess away and cuddling up next to you. “Do you want me to do it again?” he asks as you lean into his arms, his hands wrapping around your wrists to rub circles into your skin.

“Yes,” you answer, probably too quickly but beyond caring.

“Good.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Santi wants to ask you something, so you twist in his arms, kissing along his shoulder. The act feels small, and innocent somehow, despite your states of undress, as you try to reassure him.

“You were right,” you murmur near his ear, “Stranger was where I was going wrong.”

It takes him a second to piece your reference together, but then he grins, and it’s like he hung the sun in the sky. “Yeah? I took care of you?”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, biting back your own identical grin. “Yeah.”

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Tags: @fantasticcopeaglepasta​

#Santiago x reader #Santiago Garcia x reader #Santiago pope x reader #Santiago pope Garcia x reader #pope x reader #Santiago Garcia #Santiago pope #Santiago pope Garcia #triple frontier #fanfic

[ibijau]

Futures Past pt 20 / on AO3

(posting early this week because I might not have time tomorrow)(also, because of the upcoming xisang week, I’m not sure yet if I’ll update this fic next week)

With some help from Su She, Nie Huaisang gets his wangxian ship sailing.

Nie Huaisang guiltily twisted his hands as they left the classroom, already half crying as Wei Wuxian finished retelling his first day of punishment with Lan Wangji. 

"I really am so sorry, Wei-xiong!" he lamented. "I really wish I could help you. Maybe if I could find a way to copy part of the rules for you and pass them to you…" 

"Lan er-gongzi would surely notice," Meng Yao softly objected. "And then you'd both be punished again." 

"Aren't you busy enough with your own punishment anyway?" Jiang Cheng huffed. "You'll be lucky if you can even attend your music lessons with all that extra homework you were given, right?" 

With a miserable sigh, Nie Huaisang nodded. Cheating was more work than he'd thought, and he'd have to find a better way to do it if he were to pass that year. Though really, it had been Lan Wangji’s fault for joining the lectures, which he hadn't done the previous year, and also Wei Wuxian's for taunting Lan Wangji by looking at him. Of course Lan Wangji had gotten curious, and he'd noticed the cheating, and… 

For some reason, Lan Qiren had decided that Wei Wuxian was the instigator in this business, so he'd been punished the hardest. But Nie Huaisang had been given a lot of essays to write, and he didn't dare to ask Lan Xichen to help, fearing to be scolded for his dishonesty. Meng Yao and Jiang Cheng, who hadn't cheated at all, offered little sympathy and even less help, the first because he was still catching up, the second because he didn't feel like it. Hopefully Su She might give a hand, if Nie Huaisang cried a little. 

"It's really not so bad," Wei Wuxian said carelessly. "I won't say that first afternoon in the library with Lan Zhan was fun, he's even more boring than his uncle, but I think I can entertain myself. I bet before the month is over, I can get him to break his self control. Now that'd be fun!" 

Nie Huaisang stopped on his tracks and grabbed him by the arm, not a trace of tears in his eyes. 

"Wei-xiong, why do you have to antagonise him so much?" 

"Why wouldn't I? I'd like to be his friend, but he's too stuck up. Pissing him off is the next best thing." 

Baffled by that logic, Nie Huaisang looked at their two friends. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, while Meng Yao was trying his best not to smile. 

"Wei gongzi is like that, don't question it too much. He likes to tease people, and thinks everyone understands it's meant in a friendly manner."

Judging by the tone of his voice, Meng Yao himself had been a victim of that friendly teasing, and that perhap it hadn't gone so smoothly between them. That would explain why Meng Yao seemed to prefer Jiang Cheng's company, who was less fun to have around, but also a little quieter when he wasn’t shouting at Wei Wuxian.

Personally, Nie Huaisang preferred Wei Wuxian out of the three, but was getting a little annoyed at him right at that moment. 

While Jiang Cheng and Meng Yao went their way to enjoy their freedom for the rest of the day (they would waste it studying, they seemed the type), Nie Huaisang decided to accompany Wei Wuxian all the way to the library, so they could chat a little. He still had a plan to put in motion, orders from his future self to obey, and his own natural desire for fun to satisfy.

“I don’t understand why you’re like that with Lan Wangji,” Nie Huaisang said as they took the longest path possible toward the library, trying to keep his tone casual. "If you want to be his friend, there are better ways. Why don't you talk to him nicely?" 

Wei Wuxian did not even hesitate. "I've tried, and he ignores me." 

That was sadly true, as Nie Huaisang had seen a few times. It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian naturally sounded like he was trying to tease people, even when he was sincere. He was so fun to have around that most people didn’t mind it, but for someone like Lan Wangji...

"Well maybe if you apologised to him?" Nie Huaisang suggested.

"I've tried that too, but he thinks I'm insincere.”

"Because you are!" Nie Huaisang pointed out, fighting a smile.

Wei Wuxian just laughed, but that was an answer in itself.

"Please, at least don't make him any angrier," Nie Huaisang pleaded. "He'll never be your friend otherwise!" 

Hearing him get so distressed about that, Wei Wuxian stopped in his tracks, his expression more serious than Nie Huaisang had ever seen so far. He was a little scary like that, something about his height and the shape of his eyes making him look cold and distant when he wasn’t grinning and laughing.

"Listen, Nie-xiong,” Wei Wuxian said in a voice that had lost some of its warmth. “I want to be his friend, sure. I think there's something interesting about him, definitely. I’d really like it if I could be close to Lan Zhan, and given the chance I’ll do it for sure. But if he only becomes friends with me because I start acting like someone I'm not, then we're not really friends, and it's not worth the effort."

“Wei-xiong, I didn’t expect you to be wise like that,” Nie Huaisang whispered, a little awed.

“Only you would find that wise,” Wei Wuxian mocked, and Nie Huaisang found that he could breathe a little more easily now that the other boy was laughing again. “If Jiang Cheng heard me, he’d say that my personality is too awful for anyone to like me! And Meng Yao would say something about compromises. I’m pretty sure they’re the wise ones, but I just don’t feel like acting so seriously.”

Nie Huaisang grinned, a little envious of such a bold way of living. He was not always likeable, according to a lot of people (himself included, when it came to the man he was supposed to become), and so he would never have expected people to fully like him as he was. Nobody except his brother, who had little choice in the matter, and maybe Su She who probably felt like he couldn’t be too picky when it came to friends, and… well, Lan Xichen seemed to like him as he was, too, but that was just because he was so nice.

It was so bold of Wei Wuxian to expect to be fully accepted as he was. But then again, Lan Wangji also wasn’t the sort to make efforts to get others to like him, so at least they had that in common.

As they arrived near the library, the topic had to be dropped. Wei Wuxian, with a grimace of fake agony, went inside to sit with Lan Wangji, while Nie Huaisang had the pleasant surprise of finding Su She about to leave the library, and free to spend some time with him. Lan Wangji had asked for his help to put some order in a section of the building while waiting for Wei Wuxian to arrive, and Su She couldn’t decide if he was flattered or annoyed that the request had been made to him rather than another disciple.

Su She ranted about that for a little bit as they walked away from the library, before complaining about his classes, and then about a letter from his mother who wanted him to send home some talismans because she was still convinced their house was haunted even thought he’d visited during winter and hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Nie Huaisang listened, and even reacted here and there, but couldn’t quite focus on his friend’s problem that day. Su She noticed of course, and asked what hung so heavy on his mind that he couldn’t even laugh at his description of a clearly fake haunting.

“I might have a silly question to ask you,” Nie Huaisang replied. “But please, don’t make fun of me for it. It’s kind of important, and I think you could really help me.”

“That sounds very worrying, but fine, ask me.”

"How would one seduce a Lan?" 

Su She gave him such a long, serious look, that Nie Huaisang started feeling he’d rather have been laughed at after all.

"So you're finally doing something about Lan gongzi?” Su She asked. “About time, it was getting annoying how clueless you are. And, well, if you want my opinion…" 

"Oh, no, this is about Lan Wangji, not Xichen-gege!" 

Su She stopped walking and fell silent for a moment, his expression turning complicated. He looked as if he’d eaten a very sour lemon that also happened to be moldy, all while there was a cut in his mouth.

"Lan er-gongzi? Really?"

"Yes. See, I think Wei-xiong and him could be good friends,” Nie Huaisang quickly explained, startled by that strong reaction, “so of course I want to help. But they're the two most difficult people in the world, you know? Xichen-gege is helping, but a second opinion never hurts." 

"Ah, it's just that," Su She said, instantly relaxing. 

He resumed walking away from the library, and Nie Huaisang followed.

"Well, yeah. Why did you think I needed help about Xichen-gege?" 

Su She hesitated, and even opened his mouth a few times to say something. Eventually he frowned and shrugged.

"If you're too stupid, it's not my problem,” he said. “Let's talk about those other two instead, since you’re so preoccupied. Aside from being equally good at fighting, what do they have in common?" 

Nie Huaisang crossed his arms on his chest and shook his head.

"Nothing at all." 

Su She nodded.

"Then I guess they need to fight again. Maybe in public."

"You think that'd help if they had an audience?" Nie Huaisang wondered.

"No idea,” Su She said with a wicked grin, “but I'd like to see Lan er-gongzi in a fight that makes him break a sweat."

Nie Huaisang poked him in the ribs.

"Mean. But… Wei-xiong can be pretty full of himself,” he admitted. “I guess I'd also like to see if he's as good as he thinks. How to get them to fight though?"

They’d reached a more isolated part of the Cloud Recesses, a small garden that rarely saw much use, just at the border to the wilderness. They found a bench, and after removing some dead leaves they sat there to continue chatting in peace.

"In two days, you get a day off from lectures, right?” Su She asked. “Get your Wei-xiong to the training grounds after lunch. Lan er-gongzi is always there at that time on a free day, and I'll do my best to be as well. It'll be pretty easy to get them to spar." 

"Su-xiong you're just the best!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, hugging his friend who barely even grumbled against such effusions. “What would I do without you?" 

"You'd be less efficient for sure. Now can we talk about something less boring than Lan er-gongzi?”

“Yes, yes! Tell me more about your parents’ haunting, I’ll really listen now! If it’s not a ghost, then what is it?”

Pleased to return to a more fun subject, Su She started discussing his theory about some wild cats and a few squirrels that he suspected to have found their way into the currently disused ‘haunted’ room, and talked about it with such indignation that Nie Huaisang was soon in tears from how hard he laughed.

-

Although nobody had been warned of the duel to come, a small crowd had quickly assembled around the training grounds once it became understood that Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were having a friendly fight. They were both reputed to be insanely skilled after all, and rumours about their first duel under the moonlight had spread fast. 

So far, Nie Huaisang had to admit that both boy's reputation was deserved. If anything, they were both more talented than he would have expected. They exchanged blows and parried them as if it were easier than breathing, making for a beautiful show. Su She, who stood on Nie Huaisang's right at the very edge of the training grounds, appeared consumed with admiration and envy. He'd fallen silent a while ago, and perhaps regretted this fight he'd helped organise. 

On Nie Huaisang's left, Jin Zixuan was almost as upset, just a little better at concealing it. 

"I can't believe such talent has been wasted and given to the world's most obnoxious person," he complained as Wei Wuxian dodged a blow. 

"Apparently, that's also Lan Wangji’s opinion," Nie Huaisang cheerfully replied. "But I think he's warming up to Wei-xiong now." 

Lan Wangji, after a moment of surprise at the way Wei Wuxian had avoided his attack, lunged at him again with renewed vigour. 

"Yes, I can see they're on their way to becoming best friends," Jin Zixuan sneered. "Well, that's getting boring. I was hoping to see Wei Wuxian put in his place, but now he's just going to be more insufferable. I'll see you later, Nie gongzi." 

He left, but the spot next to Nie Huaisang didn't remain empty for very long. Lan Xichen quickly made his way there. Nie Huaisang immediately smiled at him, but unlike the rest of them, Lan Xichen didn't appear to pleased by the show. 

"Huaisang what's going on here?" he asked. "What are they fighting about? Did something happen?" 

"Oh they're just fighting for the sake of it!" Nie Huaisang cheerfully explained, only for Lan Xichen to look even more distressed. 

"Wangji got into a fight without reason? How?" 

Alerted by his tone, Su She tore his eyes from the fight and gave Lan Xichen a quick bow. 

"Lan gongzi needs not worry. They're not actually fighting, this is only a friendly spar." 

"Yes, we thought it'd be good for them, so we made it happen," Nie Huaisang confirmed. “I think it’s going great! Wei-xiong looks like he’s having the time of his life!”

Reassured that no rules were broken and no serious harm was intended by either party, Lan Xichen finally properly looked at the ongoing duel. He observed the two fighters for a moment before eventually nodding.

“Wangji too is enjoying this,” he said after some consideration. “I’m glad for him. It is so rare for him to get an opponent of his level. Other juniors are rarely a match, and adults won’t spar with him because they don’t want to lose to someone so young. You had a good idea, Huaisang.”

“Oh, that wasn’t even my idea,” Nie Huaisang replied, beaming. “It was Su-xiong who suggested it, and who asked to see them spar.”

Lan Xichen turned his attention to Su She, who appeared a little uncomfortable. Nie Huaisang realised, a little late, that scheming to make people fight, even in a friendly manner, was probably against some of Gusu Lan rules.

“I am glad you have such a good friend helping you set your plan in motion,” Lan Xichen said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Still, don’t drag him into too much mischief. I would be very disappointed in you, Huaisang, if you caused Su-shidi to get in trouble. He’s worked so hard to prove himself to our teachers, let’s not ruin his efforts just because you like to have a little too much fun.”

“Of course not!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “Su-xiong, you wouldn’t let me cause you real problems, right?”

“I only agree with Nie gongzi’s ideas if they don’t contradict the rules,” Su She confirmed, bowing again toward Lan Xichen. “And I wouldn’t let Nie gongzi do anything dangerous or ill-advised. Lan gongzi can be at peace, I won’t let anything happen to his friend.”

Lan Xichen smiled stiffly. 

"I know I can trust Su-shidi to take good care of Nie gongzi. I am… quite happy to leave him in your hands, where I know he'll be safe." 

It was a rather odd way to say that, and there was something a little too cold in Lan Xichen’s tone which did not quite please Nie Huaisang. But Su She himself seemed unbothered, so this might just have been Nie Huaisang imagining things. It was probably just that Lan Xichen still remained doubtful regarding Lan Wangji’s potential friendship with Wei Wuxian, which had to affect his mood.

But things really were going quite well. In fact, they were going much better than Nie Huaisang had hoped. After fighting a little more, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian eventually stopped when a Lan teacher approached them to explain that he needed the training grounds for his own class. There didn’t appear to be a clear winner between them, as far as Nie Huaisang could say. Later, when he asked Su She, his friend gave his more expert opinion that although they had completely different fighting styles, they were equals in strength and capacity. It would be interesting, he said, to see them fight side by side instead of against each other.

For now though, they politely bowed to each other, and Wei Wuxian, grinning more brightly than Nie Huaisang had ever seen him yet, asked if they might train together again in the future.

It was quite funny to see Lan Wangji’s conflicted expression. On one hand, Wei Wuxian was nearly a criminal in his eyes, who had disrespected his uncle, broken many rules, and cheated during an exam, all of which was unforgivable and marked Wei Wuxian as beneath his consideration. But at the same time, this looked to have been a very fun sparring session, Lan Wangji had been forced to use all his skill to keep up with his opponent, and that was something too precious to be easily dismissed.

At a loss, Lan Wangji turned to look at his brother, hoping for guidance. Lan Xichen, in turn, only briefly glanced at Nie Huaisang before nodding at his brother with an encouraging smile.

“Behave in class,” Lan Wangji ordered with a slight frown, before turning away.

Wei Wuxian looked disappointed by what he must have mistaken for rejection, but Nie Huaisang saw that answer for what it was and ran to his friend to explain that Lan Wangji had, in fact, very warmly agreed to fight him again.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #double time travel #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries #10-12

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 900+

Summary:  I remember during the first few nights after I came home from the Green the way you fussed over the foam-patched stab wound on my stomach, worrying yourself to near-tears about the wet rattling sound in my lungs with every heaving breath. You developed the endearing habit of sleeping with your head on my chest, counting my heartbeats in favor of counting sheep.

Warnings: angsty fluff, language, grief/dealing with loss of a sibling, mild reference of past injury, Part 11 could be read as suicidal ideation so please skip/be warned of that segment due to possible triggers, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: Maybe one day I’ll be capable of writing Ezra who isn’t a brooding, gloomy, hopeless romantic but nope, I’m going to keep torturing his poor soul just a bit longer 😁 Thank you so so much everyone who has given me support on this series. Seriously, you are all incredible and give me the courage to keep writing 💕

Previous Entries #7-9

Cross-posted on AO3

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

You found a potential job for us digging up lukkul crystals out of the Mare Anguis’ sandy basin, eyes gleaming so resplendently with excitement it burned me to look at you. Or maybe it was the sudden image of my brother’s face in my mind, hope written in every line, telling me This is my chance, Ezra. I’ll make you so proud of me, I promise that reduced what little air in my lungs to ash.

We all have the heavy burden of ghosts clinging to us, embedded in our bone marrow and concealed within the depths of our darkest memories. People we never talk about for reasons we don’t examine too closely out of fear of what those excuses might reveal about our own selves. But life is abundantly full of unavoidable tripwires—names and dates, faces and places, so many little things—triggering us into a moment of traumatic reflection without caring if we are ready to remember or not.

It’s not your fault, little love of mine, for my undesired trip down memory lane. For all that I am an open book to you, you have been too kind to flip through the pages of my brother’s chapter. You did not know of the Mare Anguis’ duality as both my brother’s murderer and his grave. You haven’t read his typed name amongst the dozens listed on a condolence pamphlet found stapled to a bulletin board at the Pug before the crossing of our paths. The document, stashed away within the pages of my brother’s favorite book, is crinkled and held together by tape from years spent grasped by my trembling hands. But the bold title centered at the top has yet to lose its haunting intensity. 

Gone But Never Forgotten. 

Fewer words have ever been so brutally honest. 

An explosion related to the mishandling of fazer solution is what I’ve been told resulted in the deaths of the entire crawling party. Funny how a handful of years later an identical incident would be essential in my escape from the Green. And by funny I mean it’s pretty fucking ironic.

Beyond the certainty of my brother’s deceased status, I don’t know any specifics. And I’m disinclined to educate myself on the matter either. There are some truths better off remaining unknown. At least this way I can believe his passing was quick. Painless. And I can hope he knew I’ve never once been anything less than proud of him with all the stardust and atoms I’m made of.

Components of our drop pod’s engine lay dismantled and scattered upon your favorite blanket, within easy reach as you attempt to discern the source of the clanking noise responsible for disrupting our slumber. Overhead the sky is a canvas of periwinkle while the sun remains soft and drowsy, reluctant to rise above the horizon line. 

However, Somni’s picturesque atmosphere and the smear of grease across your forehead aren’t enough to anchor my soul in the present moment. More and more I’ve been experiencing it drift away, existing somewhere outside of my tired body and beyond my mind’s boundaries of comprehension. A part of me longs to follow it into that numbing, vacant realm, if only to escape reality just a few precious seconds longer. A larger part of me is horrified to even briefly consider the cruel notion of leaving you behind to face the nightmares of life alone.

Staying is the obvious choice, but if I were to find a way to bring you with me…Well, let’s just say it’s mighty tempting to challenge the impossible.

Yesterday morning I came back to myself with your body wrapped around mine, our foreheads pressed together as if you were trying to connect your subconscious with mine through the bruising point of contact. Imagine if you’d succeeded, if together we drifted away beyond the stars, if some poor kip stumbled upon our abandoned bodies, if our names went down in history right beside Romeo and Juliet. A million hypothetical ifs without an ounce of significance combined, but one is a thorn I can’t so easily shake free of wondering: if we were buried together, locked in an eternal embrace.

It’s a morbid subject to dwindle on, I’ll admit, but in all sincerity if I were offered the chance of holding you in my arms until the galaxy’s inevitable swansong?

Selfishly and greedily, I’d beg for it.

I remember during the first few nights after I came home from the Green the way you fussed over the foam-patched stab wound on my stomach, worrying yourself to near-tears about the wet rattling sound in my lungs with every heaving breath. You developed the endearing habit of sleeping with your head on my chest, counting my heartbeats in favor of counting sheep. 

All that’s left of the wound is a residual scar, pinkish and raised, but still you have not yet reunited your head with your pillow. I tried moving you once in a spur of the moment experiment. You woke up just long enough to yawn and press closer again, lining up your body along every curve of my own with your eardrum centered over my heart. And off into dreamland you ventured once more, drooling unashamedly. 

I don’t think my heart continues beating for my own sake anymore. It’s become the composer of your own personal lullaby, a song on loop with only one lyric. 

I love you. 

I love you.

I love you...

Notes:

Mare Anguis = The Serpent Sea. A lunar mare/sea located on the near side of the moon. The mares on the moon were formed by volcanic eruptions, but early astronomers thought they were once seas, hence the naming. Within this fic, I like the idea of them being dried up oceans with desert-like basins that have now become prospecting sites.

Fazer solution is seen within Prospect whenever they are dealing with aurelac. Damon tells Cee if it comes in contact with meat it will cause an explosion and later on she uses this info to help blow up the merc camp.

Crawling party is a term used by Ezra in Prospect when he tells Damon he initially had a whole crawling party with him when he arrived on the Green. 

Somni is based on Palus Somni (Marsh of Sleep) -- an area on the moon with somewhat uneven terrain and a unique light brownish coloring. To me the name Marsh of Sleep seemed like a peaceful, dreamy place and I thought it’d be somewhere Ezra would be more in touch with his inner conscious than usual.

I personally struggle with dissociation where I tend to drift away from reality as a way to cope with stress/anxiety. I intended Ezra to adopt a similar coping method, but I realized there are multiple ways someone might read this and one possible view is suicide ideation. Hence the trigger warning.

I had in mind for Part 11 the embracing couple found in the ruins of Pompeii. Forever holding onto each other throughout time.

Kip is a term used often in Prospect. I took it to mean prospectors/harvesters who were rookies or didn’t really know what they were doing. 

The wound in Part 12 is a reference to when Inumon stabbed Ezra at the end of Prospect. Cee uses a patch gun on the wound which uses a medicinal foam to create a bandage on the wound. 

Series Taglist: @insomniamamma @supernaturalgirl20

Ezra Taglist: @quica-quica-quica @iamskyereads

Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan @melobee @randomness501 @captain-jebi @artsymaddie @happiestsparkleofall @gallowsjoker @vintagesaph @chibi-yuki @freeshavocadoooo @stilllivindue2spite @pointy-sharp @leilei-draws @theocatkov @over300books @oh-no-a-whovian @absurdthirst @waywardmando @you-and-i-deserve-the-world @lin-djarin @coaaster @thisshipwillsail316 @grogusmum @asta-lily @mylifeofcalculatedchaos  @disgruntledspacedad @sherala007 @mejswho @uncle-kenobi @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives @tacticalsparkles @cannedsoupsucks @mandocrasis @pedro4ever @you-got-me-starry-eyed @littlebopper96 @writeforfandoms @kiss-evans @pbeatriz @anaaaispunk​

#Ezra #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra's journal entries #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Prospect #prospect fanfiction #my fic #my writing

[solomonish]

From the Mouths of Fools

Belphegor has a habit of forcing his brothers into trouble, mostly with you. There’s nothing more satisfying than the look of horror on their face when they think they must have dashed their chances with you and that they’re digging the hole deeper. Each time, you reach out a hand and ease their worries, and Belphegor’s stomach twists as you tell them with kind eyes not to worry, that they’re very sweet. Why did you have to be such a spoilsport?

(also posted on ao3 @ treetunkdaddy)

Poems:  A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns, I Carry Your Heart With Me by E. E. Cummings, I Love You by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Love Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda

Leviathan: I love you. Leviathan: I love you more than anyone else in this world. You: Thanks! Leviathan: Happy now? Leviathan: As I thought, this was the right thing to say.

You stared at your phone screen for a moment longer with one eyebrow raised. Something here wasn’t right. Though you weren’t some grand detective, you could tell that the texts didn’t sound like Levi at all Even beyond the sudden boldness, if you pictured Levi texting those messages you could only imagine him with a rain cloud over his head as he hunched over his phone in sorrow. The somber tone didn’t match his usual excitement. Maybe he was trying to get into character for some sort of cosplay…? Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to figure out if he had mentioned getting into character for something. Still, there was no way he wouldn’t know all the lines of a character he was trying to embody, and it seemed far-fetched that he’d choose something so...overt, let alone practice it with you.

Before you could distract yourself too much from the tasks you were supposed to be working on, a solid oof a few feet away from your door caught your attention. You could just barely hear a half-hearted grumble barely covering the low boyish giggles of a scheming Belphegor as Levi freaked out in a jumble of words that sounded more like a keysmash than an argument. A moment later, you got another slew of texts that seemed much more like the demon you knew.

Leviathan: AAAEWAGVNAFBPEABD Leviathan: WAAAAAIT! Leviathan: I take that back! Leviathan: AARGH, no, that’s not what I meant! Leviathan: I left my D.D.D. on the couch and Belphie ran off with it!

Ah. That made sense. It also explained the nervous energy you could practically feel radiating from where the two demons undoubtedly still lay in a heap. With a devious look on your face, you tapped away at your phone.

You: I took a screenshot of it!

You were right about one of them being outside your door. You could hear Levi’s startled yelp, followed shortly by frantic footsteps running down the hall to his door. The three dots danced on your screen as the sound got quieter, the message reaching you just as the door to Levi’s room slammed shut.

Leviathan: No, you can’t! Delete that ASAP! DELETEIIIITTTTT!

Snickering to yourself, you hefted yourself out of your seat and opened your door to peer out into the hallway. A little ways to your left, Belphie lay sprawled out on the carpet with a half-dazed expression on his face. Taking care to keep your footsteps quiet in case he actually was asleep, you bent over his face to look at his half-lidded eyes. After a moment of shifting into focus, Belphie gave you a lazy smile and patted the floor next to him.

“You should join me,” He offered. “The carpet is surprisingly soft.”

“Yeah, and surprisingly dirty,” You added, gently toeing at his shoulder as if that would spur him to move.

“If you stare at the pattern on the ceiling and let your eyes get unfocused, it’s real easy to fall asleep,” He suggested. You turned your head to look at the ceiling, seeing nothing but a boring, dark texture above you. If you squinted, you could almost make out swirls in the paint. Maybe demons had a better time seeing details in the dark.

Beneath you, Belphie hummed contentedly, folding his hands at his stomach. He almost looked like he was sunbathing in a meadow, surrounded by fragrant flowers - the image made your heart jump the slightest bit. Maybe, if that was the case, you would have joined him. Lying next to him as a gentle breeze danced over your skin and the tall grass kissed your skin...that didn’t seem like a bad way to spend an afternoon.

“Hey,” Belphie asked suddenly, holding you in a serious stare. It was one he didn’t bother to give you often, saving it only for when you trespassed him so greatly he needed to make it known (more often than not when he told you how lame Lucifer was if you mentioned how he’s helped you with some administrative details for the exchange program). “What did you feel when Levi sent you that message?”

“What?” You asked, shaken by the jarring change in his voice. He sounded much more stern, and though it was hard to tell while looking at him upside down, you were pretty sure he was holding you in a glare, albeit a very gentle one.

“Did it make you happy?” He asked. “That he might love you?”

Your face flushed at the personal question and you averted your gaze, missing the way Belphie’s gaze hardened at your reaction. “I-I knew they weren’t from Levi,” You answered, shaking your head and looking back at Belphie. “They sounded way too suave for him. I thought maybe he was playing a character, or something. I didn’t think they meant anything.”

“You thought they didn’t mean anything…” Nodding, Belphie’s mouth twisted in thought as he looked just past your shoulder blankly. Suddenly his arms shot up and he grabbed at the air a few times, shutting off any gateway to questions you might have. “Help me up. I wanna nap somewhere softer than this where I won’t get trampled.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned the idea of leaving him there around once before shifting to his side and pulling him up. He took the chance to stumble into you, jamming his chin into your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck. Instead of feeling his breath tickle your skin, however, you felt his hair brush against you as he adjusted, eventually stopping once he was satisfied. You realized for a moment he was listening for your pulse, and your breathing shallowed on instinct, as if you wanted him to hear it. He didn’t tell you what he was listening for, only groaning when you started to ask him to let go so you could resume your day.

“Mmmm….maybe I should nap here? So comfy….” He murmured. Though he made no move to let go, he also didn’t fight you when you finally separated him from your body. Giving him a farewell smile, you turned your back to leave, not seeing his face fall in displeasure.

---

A few days later, there was a book on your bed that you were positive wasn’t there when you left that morning.

Dropping your backpack unceremoniously by your door, you peered at the worn cover to see it was an old collection of romantic poems. There was no suspicious Latin on the cover, now jewels (or missing jewels) to indicate it was a spellbook or otherwise enchanted, so you picked it up. Upon closer inspection, you saw it was a collection of human poems, many of which you read in your early school days. There were a few multicolored tabs stuck in it, no apparent rhyme or reason to their placement. Though it looked to be Satan’s book, you couldn’t imagine him risking getting adhesive on the worn pages. Curious, you flipped to the first marked page and scanned it, face flushing almost immediately.

O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune.

Flipping to the next marked page, your face turned an even deeper red as they scanned the page.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you

Each page you turned to gave you smooth velvet words that someone very clearly wanted to direct at you, each getting more intimate than the last. Every poem you read sent more blush to your face until you were positive another word would have you passing out.

I love your lips when they’re wet with wine And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the lovelight lies Lit with a passionate fire. I love your arms when the warm white flesh Touches mine in a fond embrace; I love your hair when the strands enmesh Your kisses against my face.

Honeyed words of Shakespeare and Dickinson forced your heart to pump faster in your chest than you ever thought possible. Though your body really did feel like it might collapse under the affection the poems held, you couldn’t stop yourself from flipping through. Even though it was clear these poems weren’t written for you, the slightest implication that someone could think so highly of you had your head spinning. Before long, you were skimming the last marked page, barely able to catch your breath.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

A loud roar of Belphegor’s name shook you out of your love-stricken trance. Slamming the book shut as if you’d been caught doing something wrong, you listened to the hasty, angry footsteps of Satan right outside your door. The closer he got, you could hear his heavy breathing as he fought to contain his anger. “Where is that book? I know you were the last person in my room!”

Though the thought of being on the receiving end of Satan’s anger was enough to send you running, you slowly cracked open your door and peered out. Satan immediately whipped his head around to look at you, softening just a bit in an effort to let you know that you weren’t what he was after.

In a timid voice, you asked, “Which book would you happen to be looking for?”

“It was a collection of poems. You wouldn’t have happened to see it, would you?”

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door all the way and held the book out to him. Snatching it out of your hands, Satan widened his eyes at the tabs. “Did you-”

“It was like that!” You defended. Satan realized you were jumpy and slowly inhaled, willing himself to calm down before you continued. “It was on my bed when I came home.”

With a gruff hum, Satan nodded at your explanation before flipping through the marked pages. “It’s alright, (Y/n). It’s not your fault. I’m positive Belphie was the one who took it since he was-”

Stopping mid-sentence, Satan flushed a deep red once he read which poems were marked to be read. “O-oh,” He murmured, pulling at his sweater collar and clearing his throat. “This is...these are pretty romantic, huh?”

“Well, it is a love poem collection,” You offered helpfully with a shrug. As if he didn’t believe you, Satan looked at the cover himself.

“I hope you didn’t mistake my intent. I didn’t mean for this book to end up in your care.”

“Ouch,” You hissed through your teeth. “Aren’t you a heartbreaker?”

Satan’s eyes widened before he furrowed his brows and backed a few steps away. “No, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that.” Heaving a sigh, he placed a hand on his chest and shut his eyes as he scowled. “Thank you for returning it to me. Have a good day.”

Satan turned on his heel and walked briskly away, leaving you to chuckle at the empty space before retreating back to your room. On your bed, beneath where the book was, lay a green sticky note you had missed in the excitement. Picking it up, you saw a note scrawled in messy handwriting that made you question just how genuine these advances were.

I’m not the best at expressing myself with words. Maybe if I borrow the words of others, you can finally know how I feel.

---

The pattern continued for a few days, with each brother falling victim to one of Belphie’s tricks. Each time, they managed to fluster themselves to impossible standards, aside from Asmo who insisted he never sent you that love letter and don’t you know how beautiful his handwriting is like the rest of him? Oh, but if a love letter was what you were after, he’d send mountains and mountains until you just couldn’t resist him anymore-

By that time, you had gently shut the door in his face and jogged back to your room, just as red as the rest of the brothers were when it was their time to be the victim. Belphegor even managed to send you an email with a fake account with a name so similar to Lucifer’s you almost didn’t catch the differences. By that time, you saw through his jokes and simply asked:

You: Really? An email? [email protected]: What? He’s such a loser that I wouldn’t put it past him.

Even now, over a week since the last incident, Mammon was shouting in the hall as he kept running circles around himself, demanding Belphie to stop making advances on his human and to stop making him look like a fool. Without fail, Belphie always asked, “Oh? Is it foolish to think highly of the human?” Mammon was sent into a new frenzy every time.

By the time they were finished, you were exhausted just from listening to their incessant bickering. Mammon had scurried off, desperate to hide his embarrassment, while Belphie slumped down on the couch next to you and gave you a lazy grin. This time, you couldn’t bring yourself to return it. The antics had to stop.

“I think you should stop using me as a tool to mess with your brothers,” You said, not yet unpausing the show you were watching before the fighting started. Belphie scrunched his face and looked at you without moving his head.

“No can do. It’s too fun to see how desperately they try to save your honor from themselves. Idiots.”

Cringing at the insult, you continued, “Okay, but can you stop with the love advances? It’s a bit...much.”

Finally moving, Belphie turned his head to give you a scrutinizing look you didn’t understand before relaxing back into the couch. “Sure,” He answered humorlessly, tone dry and brittle with what was, to you, misplaced disgust. “It was losing its charm anyway.”

Now he was sulking, and you had half a mind to press play and just ignore his bitter mood. Still, you didn’t mean to make him pout, even if you had no idea where it came from and therefore weren’t exactly responsible for the shift. Sighing, you turned your back on him and leaned back, moving so your head was resting on his slumped chest. Without sparing you a look, Belphie reached his slim finger up and slowly carded them through your hair, making no effort to comb any tangles and deciding to ruffle it instead.

“I would like to know what’s got you in such a sour mood,” You said bluntly, turning your head to watch Belphegor stare at the ceiling blankly. Other than the occasional slow blink, you would have thought he had fallen asleep with how long it took him to respond. You knew better than to think he was ignoring you - he was either thinking of an answer he was satisfied to give or teasing you, seeing how long you’d wait for him and then pointing out how much you must value what he has to say if you’d wait that long.

“You enjoyed it too much,” He finally said, keeping his gaze from yours.

“I enjoyed it?” You repeated, narrowing your eyes. “I can assure you, I enjoyed none of what happened.”

“The fighting, maybe,” He agreed. “But I heard you tell Levi you thought it’d be sweet if he had texted you. I saw your face when you thought the poems were from Satan.”

“You were there?” Trying to remember the scene with Satan, you ran a hand partially through your hair and rested your palm on your forehead.

“The love letter, the gift basket, everything- you enjoyed it before you realized it was fake.”

“Belphegor, where were you?” You asked, knowing he would ignore your question. How many other times had he been secretly watching you without your knowledge? The thought made you shiver.

Clearly disgruntled, Belphegor growled at your questions before rolling his eyes. “At first I was just messing with you, but I never would have guessed you would sooner take sweet nothings from the mouths of fools before you’d ever take the real deal from me when I offer it out to you.”

Blinking rapidly, you felt your face warm and your heartbeat stutter for the thousandth time this week. “You...you never offered me anything,” you answered dumbly. Displeasure flickered across Belphie’s face before he sighed again and slumped further down, forcing your head down with him.

“Of course I didn’t. The others did, but not me,” He replied in such a way that barely hid the frustration in his tone, but the irony he was lamenting was lost on you. Sitting up, you shifted to sit on your knees and bent over Belphie to look at him.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. Belphie turned his head away, but you grabbed his cheeks and gently pulled them towards you so he could face you directly. “Belphie, tell me what you were trying to do.”

For a moment, Belphie wondered if he could just slump out of your grasp and lock himself back in the attic, clear by the pondering expression he wore on his face. You squished his face a little tighter, just enough to keep him in place and speak up. “I guess...I was hoping you would think the love letters and everything were from them and you’d reject them.” He looked to the side to avoid the pity you couldn’t hide on your face, his gaze unintentionally hardening. “Why didn’t you reject them? You should have rejected them.”

“I knew it wasn’t real! I was just trying to make them feel better,” You defended. Swiping your hand away from him, Belphie lifted himself up so he was sitting straight and crossed his arms, the image of a petulant child. “Is this...is this your version of a confession?”

Though he did his best to maintain his glare, Belphie couldn’t fight the light pink that tinted his cheeks. “So what if it is?”

Thoroughly pleased with yourself, you sat back on your heels and pretended you needed to mull things over. His hair was covering his eye and he kept his head turned away from you, but you could feel Belphie’s pensive gaze on you as you made your decision. Grinning and leaning closer, you asked, “Is this another prank?”

You felt his cold hands on either side of your face before you even saw him move. He glowered at you with no heat, putting on an upset show. If anything, he was more upset that you insisted on teasing him when you were so nice to the others. “If you can look at me and say you think I’m pranking you right now, you really are just a stupid human.”

Your grin widened. “A stupid human you’d have no qualms about kissing, though, right?”

There was no need to answer you with words when showing you was much more enjoyable.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me belphegor #swd belphegor #obey me swd #belphegor #belphegor x reader #belphegor x mc #belphegor fluff #obey me imagines #long post #my fics #belphegor writing #satan writing #mine

[desertflowerbowling]

Melanie King, please be my queen and marry me.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ Hi! I hoard pronouns like shiny rocks, so any work. I also have a decently sized name hoard, but to keep things manageable, I’m only listing two on this blog. You can call me Arin or Kepler, pick one or use both, it doesn’t matter.

If you like this blog you might also like @incorrect-fears, an incorrect quotes blog dedicated to the fear entities from the Magnus Archives. Also here is a list of all my blogs because I have too many.

No dni, just don’t be an asshole, and if I don’t like you I’ll just block you. Also if you block me I guarantee I won’t notice, so go right ahead.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

What have I listened to? (bold means I’m completely caught up)

Archive 81

The Far Meridian

The Magnus Archives

The Penumbra Podcast

StarTripper

Welcome to Night Vale

The White Vault

Wolf 359

Wooden Overcoats

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

My writing for podcast fandoms is under the cut, and here’s my ao3

Welcome to Night Vale

1. A New Family In Town. 1,948 words. A crossover of the Addams Family and Welcome to Night Vale. The Addams Family comes to visit Night Vale for the summer. One-shot. Episode-style fic. Possible sequel.

2. After Everything. 465 words. One-shot. Cecilos. Fluff. Written for a prompt ask game. The Arby’s scene from episode 25 from Carlos’s point of view.

3. A Magic Afternoon. 947 words. One-shot. Michelle/Maureen. Fluff. The girls have the day off and Michelle shows Maureen a card trick.

The Penumbra Podcast

1. Hand-holding and Heists. 621 words. Written for a prompt ask game. Jupeter. One-shot. Juno and Nureyev holding hands on a heist, essentially.

2. The most dangerous thing is to love. 555 words. Written for a prompt ask game. Jupeter. One-shot, with a perspective switch halfway through and a little extra two-paragraph angst punch included as a super-short epilogue. Canon compliant post-Final Resting Place, so it ends about as well as you’d expect.

The Magnus Archives

1. Who am I to pull you down to earth? 1700 words. Songfic to “The Man I Knew” by Dessa. Season 4 Jmart angst. Martin-centric, but Jon POV.

#about me #my writing #pinned post

[relenafanel]

Dicks (in every definition): a fake-relationship AU

Geralt/Jaskier

Find it on Ao3:  Dicks (in every definition) by relenafanel

FOR THE MODERN AU CHALLENGE. WEEK 1: Fake-Relationships

Tag: witcherauseptember

________

“I can’t believe anyone could be such an unmitigated puss-filled dick,” Essi said, staring at her phone in disbelief. Jaskier groaned and let his head thunk on the bar.

“I can.” His sticky forehead was the least disgusting part of the evening.  He'd just come out to forget his ex, and maybe celebrate being free a little (as fucked up as that was) and quite frankly felt attacked by his social media.

“If I believed it from anyone it would be that narcissist,” she conceded, biting on her lip.

“I know,” Jaskier agreed. “That’s the worst part. I feel like it’s my fault being blindsided by this, as though I should have known something was going to happen today.”

Essi snorted. “It’s not your fault your ex is the worst.”

“No, but I was with him for almost 3 years. I don’t know. That’s my fault.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “Look at this desperate fucker. Do you actually think he’s winning? He might be in a new relationship but the look of this guy makes my vagina want to shrivel up and die.”

Jaskier took her phone from her and looked again. Yeah. Yikes. Valdo was definitely scraping the bottom of the barrel with that one. Jaskier hadn’t even tried to join any dating sites post-breakup, but he was pretty sure there were better options. It wasn’t even the guy’s looks so much as he just screamed skeevy douchebag. It was making Jaskier’s metaphorical vagina also want to die.

“You need to get drunk. Maybe laid.”

“No,” Jaskier said, an idea starting to form as he looked at the relationship status change. “No. I need to match pettiness with pettiness. I need to find someone so hot that I’d have trouble getting him - let alone Valdo with his sad, small dick - and make sure to post a picture on Facebook.”

“Would that make you feel better?”

Jaskier smiled with teeth. “I think it would.”

***

It was their third bar of the evening and Essi was definitely sick of the manhunt. She probably hadn’t realized that when Jaskier was judging men fully objectively and not looking for matching personalities (relationship goals) or a willing body (one night stand goals) he had incredibly discerning tastes.

Probably too discerning.

“How about him?” Essi asked, barely looking up from her phone. She gestured to a guy sitting at the bar trying to make eye contact with a woman across the room.

“Ehh,” Jaskier said. “Sweater vest.”

Essi rolled her eyes. “But cute.”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for eye-searing hot.”

“I’m having trouble remembering how you’ve ever been in any relationships with these unrealistic expectations.”

“Valdo thought I was hot.” Jaskier thought about that for a moment. “Did I stay with someone for three years out of flattery?”

“Probably. Fuck. Get therapy.”

“I am.”

“You’re going to be working on tonight for a while.”

Fucking true. “Oh god, we just saw Valdo’s taste in men. Tell me true… am I ugly.”

“You’re spiraling.”

“That’s not an answer!”

“You’re spiraling!”

“Yes,” Jaskier agreed, pulling at his hair. “I’m so aware.”

“Based on the guy in his status update I’m going to guess you’re the hottest guy he could get.”

“You’re a good friend.” Jaskier pressed his head against her shoulder.

Then, a table opened up across the room, revealing the man sitting on the other side of it. “Holy shit.”

Essi looked up. Then she looked up. “Wow.”

“I hope he’s into men,” Jaskier said. “Or at least willing to play along with pretending to be for long enough for you to get a picture.”

“You’re going to walk up to that?” Essi asked. “You have more balls than brains.”

That was probably true.

***

“Hi, I’m Jaskier,” he opened with, dropping into the seat across from the gorgeous man. Up close he was even more startlingly pretty, with a chin dimple that highlighted his strong jaw and drew attention to his mouth. “And my boyfriend broke up with me two months ago, only to post his new relationship on Facebook today. Our three year anniversary. It’s the dickest of moves, right?”

The man hummed in agreement, but otherwise didn’t stop frowning in Jaskier’s general direction. Like someone waiting for him to get to the point. Jaskier saw that frown often.

“The reason for the oversharing is that I just forced my best friend to follow me to three different bars to find someone so phenomenally hot for me to spend time with and get picture proof, and here you are. I’d do jazz hands but you don’t seem like someone who responds well to jazz hands.”

“What are jazz hands?”

Whoa.

What a voice. What a sexy, sexy voice. Jaskier knew what he was talking about. He was a connoisseur of voices.

Jaskier wiggled his fingers at him. Tada! “Jazz hands.”

“Huh.” The man took a drink of his beer. “You want to use me as a revenge plot?”

“Exactly. Can I buy you a drink?”

The man gestured to his mostly full beer. “I’m not drinking to get drunk tonight.”

That was only a no to the beer. “Nachos or some other foodstuff?”

The guy seemed possibly interested in food.  

“Fine,” he agreed.  

****

Facebook: Julian Alfred Pankratz is in a relationship with Geralt of Rivia.

“Who’s Julian Pankratz?” Geralt muttered, staring at his phone.

“What?” Jaskier groaned, coming out a shitty sleep to a few realizations:

He’d gone home with the hottest guy on earth, which he should be pleased about, AND WAS PLEASED ABOUT

He might throw up

He’d done something last night. Something he’d said “that’s up for tomorrow Jaskier to sort out” because his drunk self was apparently a fucking masochist, and now Jaskier wasn’t really sure what that was.

Only Geralt was still scowling at his phone and seemed to know his real name.

So.

“Fuck,” Jaskier groaned. His mouth tasted like nachos and the regret of doing shots too late in life. He was 28 years old, not dead, but his hangover didn’t seem to know that.  “We didn’t get married , did we?”

“...”

Jaskier risked the light filtering in through the edges of the blinds to look at Geralt. His hair was beyond mussed - Jaskier didn’t know hair could get that tangled overnight. He was still frowning at his phone.

“I’ve been calling you Jaskier.”

“I go by Jaskier,” he promised. He was too busy having his own crises to deal with Geralt’s! For fucksakes. “Now, back to the marriage thing??”

“No.”

Phew. That was probably on him. He wasn’t sure people could actually get fake married overnight. Legally. He’d seen a lot of movies, though.

Ok. Next problem.  “I might throw up.”

Geralt turned his head slowly to look at him. Yikes. Too much beautiful-man-face in his face for this early in the morning.

“It’s eleven,” Geralt told him in the dry tone that told Jaskier he’d said that all outloud.

“Eleven after getting to bed at what? Five? Eugh, boo. Do you have any food?”

***

Geralt did have food.

Well, Geralt had protein bars and electrolytes, which was basically the same thing. Jaskier could always fall on top of a burger on his way home if he had to.  He’d finally looked at his phone by the time he was halfway through his breakfast.

107 new notifications.

What the fuck?

Julian Alfred Pankratz is in a relationship with Geralt of Rivia

Geralt and I were going to wait until announcing this wasn’t an asshole move, but now that it doesn’t really matter, I just wanted everyone to know that I’m doing GREAT.

Attached to it was the picture of the two of them together that Essi had taken with the caption of “I wouldn’t feel too sorry for Jaskier tonight”

His drunk self had a lot to answer for. No wonder Geralt had been scowling at his phone.

“I can’t believe I went Facebook Official with someone I haven’t even had sex with yet,” Jaskier mourned. “What is it, 2007?”

***

It took Jaskier almost the full day to recover enough to actually look through his comments on Facebook. By the time he had, they’d almost doubled and he’d made the mistake of clicking into Instagram to find one of those quintessential happy-relationship-our-feet-are-cute-together bullshit pictures. He had a different following on Instagram, mostly using it for pictures of himself singing.

Yikes. Yikes. Yikes. This wasn’t a contained problem, if you could call their mutual friends and families on Facebook that had been gathering in the wings for 15 years a contained problem . Fucking Facebook. Jaskier friended people he’d met once. He had a database of acquaintances. It was great for - you know - being a musician looking for gigs. He’d done 15 weddings in the last year.

It was pretty shitty when he’d faked having a boyfriend so people wouldn’t feel bad for him.

But, as he read through the comments and realized that some of them weren’t for him, he realized that maybe he wasn’t the one with the biggest problem.

Jaskier: Did you just come out?

Jaskier: Are you EVEN INTO MEN?

Jaskier: I REMEMBER YOU THINKING THIS WAS FUNNY AND AGREEING TO IT

Jaskier: BUT

Jaskier: I REGRET COMMITTING TO CAPS SO SOON BECAUSE I MEAN THIS IN CAPS AND BOLDED

Jaskier: WHOEVER LAMBERT IS JUST CONGRATULATED YOU ON FINALLY GETTING DICKED DOWN BECAUSE IT MIGHT MAKE YOU LESS GRUMPY

Geralt: I see you’ve read the comments

Geralt: my brother

Jaskier: YOUR BROTHER?!

Geralt: bold and caps?

Jaskier: and italics what the fuck. Why’d you let me do this?

Jaskier: wait.

Jaskier: WAIT

Geralt: there it is

Jaskier: this was your idea

Jaskier: did you use me to tell everyone you know that you’re gay or bi or whatever you identify as?

Jaskier: what a brilliant opportunity last night was for both of us

Geralt: you went back to sleep and didn’t process any of this yet, didn’t you?

Jaskier had been seen with that, fuck. He made a face at his phone even though Geralt couldn't see it.

A few moments later a response to Lambert popped up from Geralt himself.

@Lambert who says I haven’t been getting dicked down this entire time you heteronormative asshole

Followed by someone named Yennefer posting a picture of a strap on.

Who were these people? Could you love someone based on how their friends reacted to their ill-advised fake-relationship status change? Asking for a friend.

Geralt: for context, that’s my ex-wife

Geralt: we’re ok

Geralt: especially when she’s helping me fuck with my brother

***

Jaskier was debating the merits of asking Geralt if he wanted to come up with a break-up plan or just date when another comment showed up.

Vesemir left a comment:

You’ll bring him to brunch tomorrow?

Geralt left a comment:

We’ll be there

Vesemir left a comment:

Leave the frightening device at home

Geralt left a comment:

He doesn’t need it

This was followed by a string of variations of LOL and OH SHITs from about 7 different people. Jaskier watched it all unfold feeling like he’d stepped into the middle of something he didn’t understand - yet. He was definitely in trouble, if the way his heart rate increased at Geralt’s he doesn’t need it was any indication. It wasn’t even the dick reference, though that was amazing. It was the snappy, quick response. The underlying sarcasm.

Jaskier had a type. He could end a fake relationship that was based on seeing a searing hot guy across a room, but it was a bit harder when the guy had a personality he liked. If Geralt turned out to have a heart of gold, Jaskier was screwed and would probably be proposing marriage by year’s end.

Yeah, we’ll be there , he commented.

Geralt: my dad

Geralt: thanks

Jaskier: no problem

Jaskier : gonna call

“So I’m thinking,” Jaskier said the moment Geralt’s face showed up on the video call. He was squinting at his phone like no one had ever tried to video call him before.

“Hi,” Geralt replied, looking amused.

“I’ve been debating the merits of planning a breakup for our fake relationship or just… dating? I’m thinking maybe we should date? Do you have input?”

“Dating’s fine.”

“But do you… are you even attracted to me? Would you pick me?”

Oh fuck, what was that?! Something new to bring up in therapy.

Geralt tilted his head.  “You don’t know this about me yet, but I’m capable of saying no. Overly capable, some of my family might tell you.”

“So you’re not saying no?”

“I’m pretty confident I said yes instead.”

***

“As Jaskier’s best friend and the only witness,” Essi said into the microphone, holding up a glass of champagne to salute the two of them. “Our happy couple gave me full permission to tell the story of what happened the night Geralt and Jaskier met. Like Jaskier himself, the story is partially an embarrassing tale of bad decisions, half-cocked plans, and a lot of heart.”

Jaskier grinned, and nudged his shoulder into Geralt’s.

“And,” Essi continued with glee, “dicks in every definition.”

#geralt of rivia #jaskier #witcherauseptember #the witcher #fanfiction: drabble #fake relationship