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#to be able to do more engaging expressions
ginnysgraffiti · 2 days
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i've received this ff request but since tumblr deleted it i wasn't able to answer directly to the person who sent it :,)
anyway, here's the ff!
needy y/n, overstimulation, hand-relief, self-stimulation, paul's dirty vision, 18+
&. PAUL ATREIDES x yn.
technically speaking you and paul were engaged.
it was he who declared himself, on the highest dune that could be glimpsed from your fremen camp.
that day the air was pleasant and the sand hardly rose.
you were immersed in a light conversation, which ended with paul meticulously explaining to you how his life was on caladan, his home planet.
life there sounded perfect the way the words slipped out of his perfect lips lightly coated with a few grains of melange spice.
you asked aloud what the sea was like, or rather, what it was.
on arrakis water was way more precious than spice, to stilgar and your people, and you couldn't imagine having an expanse of water (even salty) before your eyes.
paul noticed your incredulous expression and the way you raised your eyebrows and soft giggle left his lips.
looking at you again, he promised that he would take you to bathe in the sea, when political and war affairs would be over and he would finally bring the 'green paradise' written in the prophecy.
however, it wasn't the most romantic and exciting proposal that tickled his mind that day, even if it moved you anyway, because paul...well, he proposed more intimate things than a swim in the sea that evening.
that night you lost your virginity, and even though you were sure it was the same for him too, you didn't ask.
from the memory of that evening, bathed in your liquids and covered in sweet spice, paul's body never left your mind.
never.
in fact it was real torture when stilgar kept him for training or jessica took him out of your sight to talk about family or personal things.
one way or another, you and paul never had another chance to get back as close as the first evening, and it burned your gastric juices.
his mind was like war-set, and you didn't know if he could have time to satisfy your needs.
that evening you could still hear paul handling with his cryss, outside, probably with his skin shiny with sweat and his curls stuck to his forehead.
you coul hear his fighting movements, his labored breathing, and your mind could even see his hands shaking with adrenaline and his veins pumping.
that dirty thought got you soaked without even noticing.
now it was your breathing that stopped, and the only thing you wanted was for paul to enter the tent and touch you as only he did, and as only he had stopped (due to commitments) from doing...
the knot in the intestine wouldn't go away and the temperature seemed like a thermometer about to explode...
maybe you had a fever, maybe it was the effect it had on you.
he had on you.
you tried to make time fly by as much as possible, waiting for paul to get back to the tent, even though he would be too tired for any unhealthy plan you might have running through your gut.
your hands started to shake and a wave of tingles sucked you in
you felt the heat of your skin, even more accentuated by the fact that paul could return at any moment; a fire so hot that it only excited you terribly.
an unhealthy idea, in fact, took place in your mind and your hands began to move and travel across your body.
your breathing started to get heavy at the idea that paul could touch you like that. because you knew he could.
yes.
you dragged your own hands over your skin, starting with your neck and then in circular motions over your breasts before lingering on your belly.
the rhythm of your fingers becomes irregular and with the other hand you started making circular movements on the clitoris, now nothing but moans and incoherent words come out of your mouth.
you wanted paul.
your body felt the keen need to be touched by him, only by him.
you tried to push your fingers a little further in but you felt too close that you couldn't hide the desire to come thinking about how he would touch you.
you tried to regain some sanity when two strong hands pinned you even tighter against the carpet of the tent.
"were you practicing without me?"
his voice was incredibly hoarse and forced, perhaps due to training.
you couldn't tell if there was a smile or a threatening expression on his lips, by now your mouth was open, your head tilted back slightly and your fingers still down there.
you gave him a quick glance.
you were shocked, terrified and mesmerized.
those warm words wrapped in the smell of sweat, spice and vanilla from him made you tremble from head to toe...
a small laugh hit your ears, making you jump, and paul's hands grazed your arms, your hips, your chest, your breasts.
"really? touching yourself in the tent? without me? man, you must be so soaked..."
now his gaze was locked on your fingers still there.
fuck.
he moved the blanket and gently took them, putting them in his mouth and tasting your juices.
you moaned at his gesture, trying to look away but you were already too sensitive that you threw your head back again.
paul's lips passed over the tense skin of your neck, traveling along the jugular that was pumping like a madman, before stopping on your ear and blowing on it.
"why don't we get this done, hm? it would be a waste...and i need you, y/n" he hinted at an amused grin.
you could hear he was deadly needy.
you loved it.
"god y/n...i beg you, touch yourself again"
this was really unexpected from Paul.
your eyes widened, but his intentions were real.
you then adjusted your position and you could feel the grin return to his face as your movements resumed slow, in and out, but now they were picking up the pace faster as at the sight of your boyfriend the excitement only accelerated in you.
you moaned his name, helpless to do anything else.
you pushed two fingers inside again, you couldn't take it anymore...
you needed him.
now.
“hell the sounds you make…are you close, y/n?”
you nodded slightly and he grinned proudly.
he got even closer and your heartbeat accelerated dramatically.
you had a machine gun instead of a heart.
hopelessly you instinctively clung to his shoulders, to his muscular neck, as his hands ran up your thighs.
his deep eyes stared at you and instead of being intimidated you felt hypnotized.
two fingers slipped inside your mouth, inviting it to open.
and you, victim of his beauty, did it.
he brushed his lips against your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin, marking it with possession.
your knees shook and a burning heat exploded between your thighs that you had to grip onto his shoulders again.
paul had already taken off your clothes.
you suddenly found yourself completely naked.
he slipped a thigh between your legs and pressed his knee against your most sensitive spot.
damn...
you closed your eyes and pressed your lips together to suppress a moan, maybe an orgasm.
you felt giddy, excited and hungry.
so much so that, against all shame, you began to follow those movements.
you wiggled your hips, grinding against her muscular leg.
he increased the intensity to let you feel him even more.
"you like it like that, don't you?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire for him.
his kisses became more merciless and wild and his tongue melts against mine.
he then let one hand slide down.
he smiled at you, then kissed you softly.
paul continued to act skillfully but very slowly and, moving to the clit, he rubbed it with his index finger, then squeezed it tightly with his thumb.
that damn expert touch made you delirious.
he immediately withdrew his finger, however, giving you a jolt of indescribable pleasure and you let out a cry.
he stuck his finger in again, briefly.
he caressed your entire calf and then moved up your leg and ended up on your inner thigh.
"i want to kiss you here."
you froze at his words, but nodded.
something about the roughness he was practicing and the sweet permission that escaped his lips made you love him even more.
he leaned in and gently placed his lips on it.
with his wet tongue he licked on your clit, while his thin and veiny hands held your waist tightly.
"i feel you so tight..." he murmured.
he licked some more and his blue but not totally fremen eyes darkened feeling your sensitive spot twitch.
"were you like this even when you touched yourself for me?"
you tensed.
"relax baby...enjoy the moment, hm?"
he pushed his finger deeper but his words made you trust him and you tilted your head back, making your pupils roll as your hands ran through his hair to release the accumulated tension.
you pulled them even tighter, trying to tell him something you couldn't with words.
"say it" as if he almost read your mind, he ordered in the fremen language, and you almost actually came...
he turned you on like hell when he spoke in the same language as you...
you looked at him biting your lips and your gaze fell on his mouth swollen and purple from his kisses.
his breaths are panting and fast, like yours.
then when he placed a small and delicate kiss on your belly you finally melted.
"do it, paul"
as soon as you felt his hot tongue inside you, his whole tent began to turn, move, distort above my eyes.
you pushed your hips against his mouth.
he didn't stop, in fact, he continued to lick me.
you were shaking and panting against the fabric of the carpet.
when you finally felt you were close again the mix of sensations was too powerful...
you were distraught, sweaty and hot.
"do you really think we're done? i still have to make up for all the last nights, baby."
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gogandmagog · 3 days
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Guys! Yesterday I had a book-shaped piece of mail, and inside of it was my copy of Children and Childhoods in L.M. Montgomery: Continuing Conversations being returned, from another very dear user here! I bring this up only because some-months-ago I promised to copy out a particular article from this book, for yet another user here, who was interested! Interested because it’s on the the subject of a Fan Favourite thing... fan fiction. And better still because some of our (basically famous) mutuals here are mentioned by name! If you’ve ever wondered if the Montgomery scholarship is reading your fan fiction... the answer is yes, they are! They totally are. More than that, they also have some thoughts to share… as well as recommendations of their faves too! This article even covers the F/F and M/M fan fiction presented by fans in LMM’s universe, and I’m personally super excited to be able to begin reading these works, as soon as I can find them all. I’ve done my best to link what I could immediately find, but some of the mentioned stories were unavailable... potentially due to changes in usernames? (That said... if anyone knows of the works indicated here, that I haven’t provided a link for, please do share!)   This article, by the way, was written recently... in 2020! It’s very current, and it covers a few stories that were still being actively updated during the pandemic. The focus of this article is less so on canon (or really just the Anne/Gilbert pairing), though, and seems to prefer demonstrating the versatility of mixing relationships (Anne and Emily, for one!) and the wider more general universe-building aspects (the entanglements of future generations/Anne’s grandchildren) that fans have been expounding on for nothing less than decades. 
Okay, here we go! xx
Continuing Stories: L.M. Montgomery and Fanfiction in the Digital Era by Balaka Basu
Fanfiction – the recreational (re)writing of texts – is a literary genre of rapidly growing significance. Abigail Derecho in her brief history of fanfiction identifies it as “a genre that has a long history of appealing to women and minorities, minorities, individuals on the cultural margins who used archontic writing as a means to express not only their narrative creativity, but their criticisms of social and political inequities as well.”
Insightfully defined by Francesca Coppa and Mary Ellen Curtin as “speculative fiction about character,” fanfiction can be even more precisely understood as fantasies about the diegetic positioning of characters in the context of various settings, communities, relationships both textual and paratextual, and eventually all manner of cultural mythologies.
Kristina Busse and Karen Hellekson describe the production of fanfiction as “part collaboration and part response to not only the source text, but also the cultural context within and outside the fannish community in which it is produced.”
They point out that the shift in the method of dissemination of fanfiction from newsletters and zines to internet archives means that “ever-younger fans who previously would not have had access to the fannish culture except through their parents can now enter the fan space effortlessly; financial resources have become less of a concern because access to a computer is the only prerequisite; and national boundaries and time zones have ceased to limit fannish interaction.”
The nature of fanfiction allows participants to cross-generational and socio-economic boundaries in an ongoing exchange of responses to a source text with which they share a fascination, developing new texts that in turn elicit their own responses. While the creation of fanfiction is evidence of an affective, loving, communal relationship with the source text, this genre of writing is still dismissed in many quarters as overly emotional, purely erotic, and even perverse, a type of amateur and immature engagement with popular texts that produces writing necessarily divorced from literary significance. Produced in staggeringly vast quantities by subcultures with complex vocabularies and traditions that can intimidate the casual reader, fanfiction is perceived by many to be more of a cultural practice than a literary genre, variously denigrated for its pornographic potential and its lack of originality. However, close examination reveals that fan writers are able to create a critical dialogue with the originating author in acts of communal storytelling that incorporate allusions and reference points to which other dedicated fan readers and writers may respond.
In this chapter, after examining how L.M. Montgomery and her writer heroine Emily themselves engage in practices now associated with fanfiction, I survey four forms of fanfiction that remove Montgomery’s novels from her seemingly idyllic and timeless island settings, contextualizing her characters and plots within history and other genres: the sequel set during the Second World War, the modern AU (alternate universe), the gap-filler, and the slash fic, all of which allow the young readers who grow up with her novels to engage in dialogue with the stories they love, a type of literary conversation that Montgomery herself models within her texts. Emily’s reading, which is active rather than passive, resembles twenty-first-century fans’ ownership of the texts they love, provoking creative responses. For instance, after reading works by Lord Tennyson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and Matthew Arnold, Emily writes, “Teddy lent me 3 books of poetry. One of them was Tennyson and I have learned The Bugle Song off by heart so I will always have it. One was Mrs. Browning. She is lovely. I would like to meet her. I suppose I will when I die but that may be a long time away. The other was just one poem called Sohrab and Rustum. After I went to bed I cried over it. Aunt Elizabeth said ‘what are you sniffling about?’ I wasn’t sniffling – I was weeping sore … I couldn’t go to sleep until I had thought out a different end for it – a happy one.”
The reactions Emily catalogues are those of the fan; they are viscerally felt in the body and attempt to dissolve the boundary between author and reader, producer and consumer. She inscribes Tennyson within her heart in order to possess the poem she loves; she creates a relationship between Barrett Browning and herself; and, most significantly, she interjects her own desired happy ending into Arnold’s tragic narrative, a corrective desire that is at the core of many works of fanfiction. Emily’s diaries and her story reflect Montgomery’s own experiences from childhood to adulthood as reader, writer, and reader-turned-writer discussed in the introduction to this volume. Depicting Emily as a voracious reader and a life-writer like herself, Montgomery places the child Emily’s voice in conversation with that of the narrator through Emily’s letters to her dead father in Emily of New Moon and through her diary entries in Emily Climbs and Emily’s Quest, creating a form of joint authorship that is referenced explicitly in “Salad Days,” the second chapter of Emily Climbs: “book is not going to be wholly, or even mainly, made up of extracts from Emily’s diary; but, by way of linking up matters unimportant enough for a chapter in themselves, and yet necessary for a proper understanding of her personality and environment, I am going to include some more of them. Besides, when one has material ready to hand, why not use it?”
The narrator’s willingness to use the “material” that is “ready to hand” reflects Montgomery’s and Emily’s practices, and also validates other writers’ use of the material Montgomery places at their disposal. As with many fans, Emily’s reading frequently makes itself felt within her writing.
Like Montgomery, Emily learns her trade through mimicry, from her first poem in blank verse inspired by James Thomson’s Seasons to her unwitting imitation of Kipling that is pointed out by her teacher, Mr Carpenter, in his review of her work. Like Sara Stanley of The Story Girl, whose compelling and fascinating stories are rarely if ever original, Emily is a fan of the oral traditions of her community, incorporating and building upon them in her own writing, transforming and recreating, for instance, the story of “The Woman Who Spanked the King” in Emily Climbs.
The retelling and versioning that Emily practises signal her immense admiration for the source texts she adapts, just as the creation of fanfiction does for Montgomery’s readership and fans. The possibilities inherent in versioning and adaptation are illustrated in Emily’s Quest. When Montgomery depicts Emily undertaking the reworking of someone else’s narrative, she is adapting an episode from her own experience while working for The Echo in Halifax, which she records in her journal. Montgomery, like Emily, was asked to create an ending for a serialized story, “A Royal Betrothal,” after compositors had misplaced the original text.
Like Emily, she claims that her “knowledge of royal love affairs [was] limited,” and that she was unaccustomed “to write with flippant levity of kings and queens.” Nevertheless, Montgomery manages to create a conclusion that passes muster, since “as yet nobody has guessed where the ‘seam’ comes in.” She is, however, curious about the original author’s reaction to her unauthorized adaptation, and while she never discovers this in real life, she does imagine it in her fiction when she introduces Mark Greaves, who is horrified by Emily’s new ending for the story but enchanted by its author. Neither Montgomery nor Emily engages in this sort of writing from a place of fandom; they have no previous attachment to “A Royal Betrothal,” and both are writing professionally. Nevertheless, the ability to solve the puzzle of the story and the weaving of their work into an already extant text are the very project of fanfiction: ludic narrative composition that recalls the way children play make-believe with the narratives they love, reworking and extending them. It is telling that Montgomery uses the metaphor of the “seam” to describe this particular craft. Jane Dawkins, writing about her fanfiction, which is inspired by Jane Austen, describes her fan novel Letters from Pemberley as “an old-fashioned patchwork quilt, where in place of the scraps of fabric reminding one of the favorite frocks or shirts whence they came, there is a line or a phrase or a sentence from one of [the original] books or letters stitched alongside the lesser scraps of my own manufacture.”
Montgomery’s final book, framed by the two world wars, is just such a patchwork sequel, albeit providing only brief glimpses of the characters that readers met as children and who have now grown older. When a version of the book was published in 1974 as The Road to Yesterday, these glimpses, lacking the interstitial materials, became even briefer, mirroring the more forced insertion of beloved characters that the two earlier collections, Chronicles of Avonlea and Further Chronicles of Avonlea, display. Only two of Anne’s grandchildren – Gilbert Ford and Walter Blythe – are obliquely referred to, in the story “A Commonplace Woman,” where an unpleasant young doctor reflects on both of them as potential rivals for the affection of a beautiful girl he himself hopes to pursue.
However, the full novel, The Blythes Are Quoted, published in 2009 and comprised of short stories about the people in Glen St Mary and over the harbour, is interspersed with poetry by both a young Walter and an adult Anne. The poems are cut with tiny slices of dialogue that suggest the continuing lives of fans’ favourite characters and how they might have developed. In “‘Dragged at Anne’s Chariot Wheels’: L.M. Montgomery and the Sequels to Anne of Green Gables,” Carole Gerson notes the mixture of feelings from pleasure to frustration that Montgomery records in her journals as she prepares to write her first sequel.
While Montgomery wrote the first installments of her various series out of inspiration, she was certainly aware of what her market desired from subsequent installments. She often regretted the necessity of marrying off her characters, but was aware that her fans demanded this conventional outcome for the characters they had come to love; these traditionally romantic endings, when not offered by Montgomery herself at the instigation of her publishers, are regularly deployed by contemporary fanfiction authors building on the source texts.
Indeed, long before the original structure of The Blythes Are Quoted was revealed to readers in Benjamin Lefebvre’s afterword, fanfiction writers were spinning off lengthy narratives that included a third generation of young Blythes, Fords, and Merediths dealing with the onslaught of the Second World War. While earlier installments in the Anne series – such as Anne of Green Gables and Anne’s House of Dreams – depict the deaths of Matthew, Anne and Gilbert’s first daughter (Joyce), and Captain Jim, Walter’s death in Rilla of Ingleside is somehow more striking. Unlike Matthew and Captain Jim, he has not yet had time to grow old; unlike Joyce, readers have had opportunities to get to know him as a child in Rainbow Valley and as he grows into young adulthood in Rilla of Ingleside. His death is unnatural and, therefore, all the more horrifying. These two aspects of Rilla of Ingleside – the evocation of history by a nostalgic fictional world that is still tied to real time and the use of high drama, tragedy, and romance – provide fanfiction authors with a model they can use to appeal to the emotions of those readers who are immersed in the next generation of Montgomery characters.
The Second World War, then, provides an entry point into the series for fanfiction authors, who can deploy real history coupled with beloved characters to create a tale that feels absolutely authentic. One example of this is a short story, “The Pen and the Sword,” written in 2007 by MarnaNightingale. Here, mimicking the style of Dorothy L. Sayers’s The Wimsey Papers (a series of Spectator articles published between 1939 and 1940, which interestingly also continue the story of First World War–era characters during the Second World War), MarnaNightingale employs epistolary excerpts and newspaper articles to tell the story of a family going through the horrors of war for a second time. Grounding her fragmented story – like The Blythes Are Quoted, a mixture of genres – in the accounts of novelist Mollie Panter-Downes (1939) and war correspondents Ernie Pyle (1940) and Ross Munro of the Canadian Press (1941), whose articles are attributed to Kenneth Ford, she offers a story that, like Rilla of Ingleside, is anchored to the historical moment, while also nostalgically focusing on the character development that comes from Gilbert Ford’s death, Rilla’s and Faith’s reactions to the war, and the lives of their children. Here war also serves as an opportunity for new experiences, particularly for women and children: Rilla takes a factory job as a machinist, liking it better than working in Carter Flagg’s store; one of Anne’s grandchildren, Susan, plans to be a doctor; and Faith, who worked as a Voluntary Aid Detachment nurse in the First World War, mentions how she can sympathize. As well, the daily tidbits that flavour the pages of Rilla of Ingleside are there: one article, attributed to Anne, includes the recipe for Susan Baker’s war bread, reminding readers of the problems of wartime rationing, even in the Americas. Real life events – like the Canadian forces trying (and failing) to make a beachhead at Dieppe – arouse the passions of the reader. Unlike Austen – who also famously wrote of three or four families in a country town, but kept the Napoleonic wars firmly in the shadows – Montgomery brings the passions and high drama of the world stage into the sleepy villages of Prince Edward Island, which inspire fanfiction spinoffs.
The long novel Cecilia of Red Apple Farm, by a fan author who posts under the pseudonym ruby gillis, also directly reworks passages and scenes from the whole range of Anne books, set in the late-nineteenth century, to The Blythes Are Quoted, set in the early years of the Second World War, to highlight the similarity between her new generation of characters and their ancestors. Cecilia is the daughter of Una Meredith and Shirley Blythe (characters often married off in fanfiction). Like MarnaNightingale, ruby gillis provides period flavouring in the styles of dresses and behaviour and in references to 1940s popular films and songs. Simultaneously, this setting offers new opportunities to her female character: Cecilia wants to be a doctor, and rather than staying in Canada, she joins up to be a nurse in England. She has a series of romances – one with Sid Gardiner (before he marries May Binnie), and one with her cousin Blythe Meredith, who is this generation’s poet – before finally ending up with Marshall Douglas (the son of Mary Vance). Just as Anne initially refuses Gilbert Blythe in favour of Roy Gardner’s resemblance to her ideal man in Anne of the Island, ruby gillis’s Cecilia is fooled by the allure of Sid and Blythe as Roy Gardner–like romantic heroes into believing that she does not truly love her fun, practical, “Gilbert-esque” friend. Published in 2004, Cecilia of Red Apple Farm further illustrates the opportunities presented by reusing and reworking a body of texts through its incorporation of Montgomery’s poem “I Wish You” as the work of Blythe Meredith. Montgomery includes this poem and attributes it to Anne in The Blythes Are Quoted, although ruby gillis could not have known this when writing. The repetition of names and circumstances might seem derivative, but for readers who have read and reread the original books so many times, the extension of the story world is prized, even if – perhaps even because of – its callbacks to the original text. Due to the tendency of fans to fixate on “the good bits” in a reread, these parts can be taken for the whole.
Austen fanfiction demonstrates this aptly. Indeed, Helen Fielding’s second Bridget Jones novel, Bridget Jones and the Edge of Reason (1999), illustrates just such a reading of Pride and Prejudice: she shows Bridget, a fan, watching the scene from the 1995 mini-series in which Darcy, dripping in a wet see-through shirt, exits the lake, and then rewinding and rewatching the scene multiple times. How many times might a similar fan reread Walter’s letter from Courcelette? This repeated reviewing of selected portions can replace the amplitude of the original novel. With this delimited focus, narrative is no longer seen as a progression, but as a single moment of pleasure, sustained as long as possible. Reading the Second World War as a repetitive sequel to the First World War further highlights this possibility.
Even Montgomery seems to do so, as demonstrated in The Blythes Are Quoted, with its new generation of characters confusingly named after the old: Walter, Jem, Rilla, Di, Anne, and Gilbert. A variation on Marah Gubar’s kinship model, this kind of continuation highlights the blurred boundaries between child and adult characters who are literally related to one another and whose adventures mimic one another.
In a third example of fanfiction set during the Second World War, Weeping May Tarry, a long novel by ElouiseBates, Meggie, the heroine, is Shirley’s daughter (and also, surprisingly, Paul Irving’s granddaughter). In this story, which like Cecilia of Red Apple Farm is an installment of a longer series, Meggie is sent off to a conservatory of music to study singing, aptly combining the traditions of the nostalgic boarding-school novel with “Girl’s Own” wartime fiction. Following the tradition of Magic for Marigold, which explicitly suggests in its second chapter that the Murrays of Blair Water and the Lesleys of Cloud of Spruce exist in the same universe, @e-louise-bates (like many other fanfiction authors, including ruby gillis) suggests that all of Montgomery’s characters exist in a single universe: Meggie partners briefly with the grandson of Sara Stanley (The Story Girl and The Golden Road) and is close friends with Jane Stuart (Jane of Lantern Hill).
Going even further, @e-louise-bates introduces the grandchildren of the What Katy Did series as friends for Meggie and includes Betsy from Dorothy Canfield Fisher’s Understood Betsy as Bruce Meredith’s wife, creating a world where all the characters of early-twentieth-century girls’ fiction seem to have truly lived, where their descendants must cope with victory gardens and dances with soldiers at the Exhibition Grounds, and where kisses are much more commonplace than they once were.
These particular continuers of Montgomery are also desirous of membership in the community of her fans, seeing their literary endeavours as productive of approval from a fellow readership. Likewise, the novels are notable for their sociality – they seem to offer the reader not only a fantasy friendship with the characters themselves but also the very real society of fellow readers of the works. Thus, these fan authors attempt to diversify their stories so that they represent contemporary beliefs regarding multiculturalism; ruby gillis, for instance, introduces into the family by way of marriage a French girl who has had to flee the Nazis due to being Jewish, a situation Montgomery and her contemporaries might have had some difficulty accepting, considering early-twentieth-century attitudes toward interreligious marriage and Montgomery’s othering of the German-Jewish peddler who sells Anne green hair dye.
The Second World War thus offers writers of Montgomery fanfiction the loom on which to weave new, more diverse stories, even as The Blythes Are Quoted, which also traces the characters’ reactions to this new war, demonstrates how these readers-turned-writers followed Montgomery’s own trajectory, not knowing that they were doing so. On the subject of fanfiction, young-adult author Patricia C. Wrede writes: “The thing that fascinates me about fanfiction, though, is the way that it models the decision tree that writers go through (whether consciously or unconsciously) to get to their final product. For those of us who do this part mostly unconsciously, it can be interesting and instructing to see the multitude of alternate paths that a story could have taken, all laid out more-or-less neatly in different authors’ fanfics [… taking a slightly different fork in the road] resulting in the plot veering in a completely new direction. Friends become enemies; enemies become friends; goals and objectives and results shift and change.” Within these pieces of fanfiction, then, fan writers are able to follow these decision trees with subsequent generations of characters as well.
Another avenue of access occurs when fan authors transpose historical narratives into the contemporary moment. Perhaps the best-known example of this modern alternate universe [AU] conversion is the television program Sherlock, which takes Arthur Conan Doyle’s Victorian detective into the twenty-first century. While new cultural contexts appear, the essence of character is meant to be retained. Just as Sherlock uses text messages and blogs to substitute for telegraphs and handwritten journals, fans of Montgomery reimagine the relationships between her characters as if they were taking place online.
For instance, “Work in Progress” (2012) by verity postulates a friendship between Montgomery’s most famous heroines, Anne and Emily. In this piece of fanfiction, Emily circumvents Aunt Elizabeth’s injunction against fiction during her time at Shrewsbury High by becoming a blogger who is restricted to the “truth.” The story’s online summary, a part of which reads “Anne rolls her eyes. ‘Is your aunt really going to know if you cheat on your nonfiction with some hot prose on the side?’” shows how the story preserves the character qualities that Montgomery laid out, complete with references to the Murray pride and Anne’s orphanhood. Mr Carpenter’s admonitions are spelled out at the beginning of the story:
“Emily Byrd Starr has a sticky note on her desktop. It reads:
ITALICS
CAPITALS
!!!!!
“just”
“really”
CTRL+F!
It is almost like having Mr Carpenter in the room with her.”
Verity creates humour through the juxtaposition of contemporary social media and allusions to Montgomery’s source text. Another story by verity detailing Rilla’s romance with Ken Ford and her friendship with Una Meredith, “Rilla of Toronto,” takes place mainly through instant messages. In this story, Rilla reflects on her life from eighteen to twenty-five, tracing a continuum from her child self to her new adulthood, underscored by verity’s translation of Montgomery’s work into contemporary millennial language.
A third type of fanfiction narrative, the gap-filler, focuses on and expands the implications of the source texts. Moira Walley-Beckett’s Netflix/CBC series Anne with an “E,” as Laura Robinson shows in chapter 12 of this volume, is somewhat fanfictional in and of itself: as Robinson points out, the show fills gaps by bringing to the fore the darker currents that have always been beneath the seemingly untroubled waters of Anne of Green Gables, including Anne’s potential post-traumatic stress disorder from the disturbing life she led before coming to Green Gables. This kind of versioning and adaptation tacitly permits fan authors to feel that their versions are just as valid as those produced by professionals. Gap-fillers frequently expand on romantic pairings and in fandom are often referred to by portmanteaux of characters’ names that perpetuate some inside joke or work as puns. “Shirbert” – a moniker for Anne and Gilbert – is the latter, and demonstrates how fans posting on sites like Archive of Our Own (Ao3), Fanfiction.net, and Wattpad (this last generally populated by younger fans) develop their own language to identify their stories within the community for which they write.
One such story, “You caught me staring, but I caught you staring back,” by Anuka, clearly inspired more by the television series than the novels, begins with an author’s note that reads, “I decided to write some fluff for these two, because I need more Shirbert moments, and season 2 is so far away. I added gifs to make it more vivid.” Here, the romance between Anne and Gilbert as depicted by Montgomery and Walley-Beckett is not sufficient for the reader-turned-writer. Anuka wants the gaps in the narrative to be more fully explored than they are on either page or screen and to be made more “vivid” by the inclusion of images that help make the story come alive.
Similarly, “Rilla Blythe’s Wedding: A Not Entirely Comprehensive Account” by Scylla also fills a gap: Rilla and Ken’s wedding day, a scene that Montgomery leaves to the reader’s imagination at the end of Rilla of Ingleside. Modelled upon other accounts of weddings within Montgomery’s fiction, the story also suggests that accounts of Walter’s death have been gravely exaggerated, as he makes a stunning appearance at his sister’s wedding. In order to align her work with Montgomery’s novel, Scylla ensures that Little Dog Monday’s awareness of Walter’s death remains, but makes it only a technicality, writing, “His heart had stopped for a full ten seconds – long enough for his Captain to feel for his empty pulse and for Dog Monday to be jolted with the fullness of his death. Little dogs, after all, can only have tender dogs’ hearts. Grief to Dog Monday was an all-consuming thing, and when Walter’s heart began to beat once more, he was deaf to its spark of joy.” After meeting with his eldest sister, Joyce, in heaven – which is, as he had always hoped, Rainbow Valley, Walter is returned to life so that he may write of peace as well as war (as he did when he was a boy), marry Una, and repair the broken hearts of readers who did not want to lose him.
While heterosexual pairings are the most prevalent in Montgomery fandom, there is room for queer imaginings as well.
This very popular genre of fanfiction, known as “slash,” is generally defined as stories that centre on samesex romances between characters, particularly between men. Montgomery slash fiction usually stars Walter Blythe.
One slash story, “but i don’t know who you are” by @freyafrida, imagines a bisexual Walter. Told in an enduringly popular sub-genre of fanfiction often referred to as Five Things Plus One (which involves a series of thematically linked but not necessarily chronological scenes), the story is summarized by @freyafrida as “Five people Walter thought he wanted, and one person he didn’t notice until it was too late.”
This last person is original to Montgomery’s text: Una, whose apparently unreturned attraction to Walter is woven through Rilla of Ingleside. The other five potential partners are all alluded to as Walter’s close friends, beginning in childhood with Alice Parker from Anne of Ingleside and Pat Brewster from The Blythes Are Quoted and then carrying on through adolescence and young adulthood with Faith Meredith, Ken Ford, and finally Paul Irving from Anne of Avonlea. While his feelings for Faith and Ken are clearly unrequited, Alice, Pat, and Paul all express their own desire for Walter. The inclusion of the famous poet and Walter’s “model” uncle, Paul Irving, in particular, particular, illustrates how traits of sensitivity and aesthetic appreciation that challenge traditional ideas about masculinity are frequently interpreted as queer by fan readers and writers.
In another slash fiction, cero_ate’s “The Moving Finger Writes, and Having Writ Moves On,” Walter discovers his homosexuality while fighting in Europe:
He wrote half truths and lies once more, when he wrote his Rilla that he could not form poems of the depths of the war. For who could write his sister of the phallic love he had found? He had found his reason in a tow-headed American boy. He meant so much more to Walter than mere friendship could explain. He wanted to write, as sweethearts write, of the tempest of joy in the darkest night. But how would they understand? How would they even try to understand he sought not the Dark Lady of Shakespeare but the youth, fair and Wilde? When he was presented with Una’s faithful heart, he spurned it. When his tow-headed darling presented his own, Walter took it, greedy for him. His grecian style love, the boy who’s [sic] eyes danced, even in the darkest of days. He would do anything to keep him safe. But he could not present him to his family, for their scorn or pity. War had broken him, but made him as well.
While male/male pairings are generally the most popular stories in fandoms, Montgomery’s novels, peopled as they are by communities of girls and women, require that readers who want to queer the text must explore what is called femslash (that is, slash fiction featuring two female characters).
Such relationships have been explored within the academic setting. For instance, Laura Robinson remarks in “Bosom Friends: Lesbian Desire and the Anne Books,” that the relationship between Anne and Diana uses “the language that readers associate with adult romantic love rather than girlhood affections,” even as it is expressed through the heterosexual paradigm of marriage.
One fanfiction author, ArcticLava21, makes it clear that such fan written stories are not speculation but instead address key issues of representation. The author’s note to ArcticLava21’s short Anne/Diana story, “Nature,” reads, “Hello everybody! Hope your [sic] having a wonderful day. Before anyone yells at me for ‘sexualizing platonic friendships’ please note that this is for all those queer kids who grew up pretending. Pretending that he ended up with him instead of her, or desperately wanted representation. Are we good? <3 Enjoy yourselves lovely people.” The intended audience of the story, “queer kids who grew up,” again establishes the transgenerational kinship between Montgomery’s child and adult fans.
All fan fiction, shared on the Internet, exist in dialogue not just with Montgomery’s fiction but with the author herself, and between the fans who read the novels as children and adolescents and the adults that these readers become.
Whether fan writers extend the narrative or fill gaps, transpose chronology or to queer the text, these pieces of fanfiction allow fans not only to insert themselves into the narrative, but also simultaneously to revivify the original novels, published a century ago. In performing interventions to the text, Montgomery’s young fans grow up to reply to the discussions that she began long ago in the pages of her journals and stories, ensuring that all three – author, reader, and text – are continually reborn into a conversation that will never end.
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Every day I consider a little more quitting my job and dedicating like a full month to just learning basic art techniques
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monster-noises · 1 year
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keeps-ache · 2 years
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trying to find some way to properly project what i'm trying to express by experimenting with emoticons like >:1
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bravesaboteur · 1 month
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The more I think about it, the more Laios and Falin's different perceptions of their parents are a case of "same parents, different childhood".
Whenever someone asks Laios about his and Falin's family, he comments on how they treated Falin but never comments about how how their childhood affected him - in fact, he kind of glosses over it. It's Falin that everyone is rallying to save, it's Falin that's Marcille's friend, it's Falin that everyone has a positive opinion of - he's just the weirdo brother that gets to share some of her light sometimes. He's the one who's only tolerated when he's useful in a dungeon. Falin's treatment is a large part of the reason that he left, but it's the symptom of a larger issue.
When we see Laios' thoughts of his parents in his nightmares, it's all about the expectations that he's supposed to live up to: the expectation to stop being "childish", the expectation to get married (to who his parents picked) and have children, the expectation to take over from his father as the village chief, the expectation to adapt to something that he isn't able to be in the way that people want him to. And these are all things that he has had to be told in some way: he had to be told that Shuro didn't like him, he had to be told that told that the gold-peelers were taking advantage of him - these aren't thoughts that just appeared on their own, these are all failures that someone has explicitly pointed out to him and they haunt him. Some of the things he considers his biggest failures are his failure to provide for and protect Falin and those have very tangible examples he can point to.
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We get a glimpse of what happens when he fails to live up to his father's expectations when Falin is born. He expects a certain reaction from Laios and when he fails to give that reaction he physically puts him down, dismisses him, and underestimates how much he understands.
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And that's something that's shown to be a bit of a sore point for him - people thinking that he doesn't understand something because he doesn't express himself like people expect. The few times we see him snap at people are because people think he isn't understanding something because he isn't reacting "normally".
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On Falin's side, the expectations seem to be a lot different - she's the younger one, for one, she's a girl, and she was so young when the fallout from her having magic happened. She too had an arranged engagement, but that was broken off when she was sent away to magic school and since then, their parents only seem to be passively involved in her life. She's mostly been freed of the expectations that their parents had for her in her village - she won't be coming back after all. She understands why they sent her away, she wasn't completely oblivious to the villagers treatment of her and it was, arguably, for the best so she is at peace with what their relationship is for now. But she still wants to go to her hometown and see for herself with adult eyes because she has never really had the space to do that.
I don't think their parents are inherently evil people - the truth is probably somewhere between Laios and Falin's version of the story, Laios' side tinged by too much cynicism and Falin's by too much naivete.
It just strikes me that when he tried to provide the "normal" way he failed, but given the space to do something similar to what people expected of him, but in his own way, he succeeded. He isn't perfect but his efforts are ultimately fruitful and he is able to carve out a place for himself, Falin, and others who had been ostracized like them to call home.
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ranboolivesaysstuff · 6 months
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HEY! Just because I am now 20 I think having something to kind of re establish boundaries would be good! Considering the ones I put all those times ago have changed :D GENERAL RULES! Do not be racist, sexist, homophobic, antisemitic, ableist, or discriminatory against anyone for any reason. Please if someone is calling you out for things you have done or said, please self-reflect and take the proper steps to change or remove yourself from the community. If you see something you do not like, and it IS MADE WORSE BY BRINGING ATTENTION TO IT, THEN IGNORE IT! Bringing attention to problems that just arent really problems with either the community or me in general are not worth it! Please use common sense when thinking about what/what not to engage with! I personally wish that people in the community do NOT engage with people who just obviously do not like me! Chances are they want a reaction from it so it is MUCH better to just not argue with someone whos mind you will not change! ALLOW CRITICISM OF ME AND MY CONTENT! IF YOU DONT AGREE OR DONT LIKE THEN DO NOT ARGUE ABOUT IT!!!! ALL IT WILL DO IS CAUSE UNESSICARY DRAMA!!! DO NOT make ANY comments or content about me that is explicitly sexual. I completely understand that lately there have been bits due to the changes in how I’ve been presenting myself and how I’ve been presenting more femininely, but that does not allow anyone to use that as an excuse to sexualize any features and such that are more feminine or masculine. Remember that femininity is not sexual and should not be seen or created as such just because its there! (for example, the Vtuber costume and chat being overly weird over the added boobs where there was no need for it). DO NOT draw me in ways that are sexual either, such as highlighting any aspects in a sexual way, or making the content something sexual. I am completely okay with being drawn as any body type, masculine presenting or feminine presenting, as long as you stick to this! PLEASE DO NOT SPECULATE ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE!!! Making jokes about certain topics CAN be fine, but a line is crossed when it becomes a legitimate speculation or if a joke is said when I have expressed my discomfort! RESPECT MY FRIENDS!!! All of my friends are their own, incredible people. And they do not deserve to be lumped in or referred to as JUST "my friend". Be respectful in their chats even when im not there, and be respectful to all of them everywhere else! IF SOMEONE IS TRYING TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU MAY BE DOING SOMETHING WRONG PLEASE LISTEN!!! There has been a lot of times in which I have seen people be unwilling to change in the face of a genuine discussion, and that is not something I want in the community! I should NOT have to police every single thing because it should NOT take me saying something in order to change your mind! As my words are not worth more or less when it comes to a lot of subjects! And lastly, do good. Whenever you have the ability to. BE POSITIVE!!! The hater mindset is very draining and can be very toxic to both you and the people around you, so highlight the good instead of the bad if you have the ability to! I am so incredibly proud of how far this community has come, and I cannot wait for the future!!! I have spent some time writing this, but it may not be perfect, so I will update this as time goes on and I think of more, or if something needs to be SUPER cleared up, but for now these are the main ones! I will NOT be updating this after every little thing however, as I do not want you guys to feel like the only way that something is wrong is if I talk about it! As you guys should be able to sustain yourself as a community without my consistent input! Imma go enjoy my birthday by eating a pizza :) thank you all!
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roz-ani · 9 months
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I hereby declare the 1995 "Pride and Prejudice" TV series to be the superior adaptation. Thank you. You are dismissed. Have a nice day ❤️
(rambling in the tags)
#yeah I'm writing this on impulse so buckle up#it goes without saying that tv series have the advantage when it comes the amount of plot covered and character exploration in general#but I don't understand the argument that the BBC pxp is emotionless? like... what happened to subtlety?#just because the characters don't yell at each other?#I would actually say that I didn’t feel that much engagement from the movie characters lol but tbh it's been a while since I saw the movie#not that the acting was poor although I remember not liking the movie Lizzy that much#OK THAT'S A DIFFERENT TOPIC#to be fair I like the lines like 'Most ardently' or 'You have bewitched me' because COME ON I'M JUST A ROMANTIC LOSER#and watching Bingley actually say 'hey I acted dumb I love you please forgive me' felt great#but I think the 1995 version is overall better at portraying the social behaviour and rules of that time#the 2005 movie was visibly made for the modern audience and I suppose the american one as well#is that a bad thing? absolutely not#I find the last scene from the movie quite sweet but it did feel (for the lack of a better phrase at the moment) out of place#because we so suddenly jumped to this great expression of emotions and I was like 'cute I guess? good for them!'#I've watched the movie before the series (finished it yesterday) so it had a bit more emotional value since I didn’t know the story#but I still believe the 1995 holds up really well and I would have no problem rewatching it#I have a thing where I believe a filmed piece is well done when you're able to rewatch it (which I don't do often in the first place)#would I rewatch the 2005 version? I suppose but I don't think I would enjoy it as much#I still have to read the book as well#I've only read som excerpts so far#it's worse for me cuz I feel like I have to read it in both English and Polish for better understanding XD#already ordered the English one AND MAY I JUST SAY THAT FINDING ONE WITH A NICE COVER WHICH ALSO WON'T COST MY ENTIRE SAVINGS IS IMPOSSIBLE#god dammit why are aesthetics a thing#gotta look for the translation now#anyway I think that's it#if anyone ever reads it XDDD#thank you for coming to my ted talk#pride and prejudice#mine
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alastors-wife · 9 months
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I have no idea how some of you guys are able to get super into politics & reading about communist stuff because accessibility wise??? it's been a nightmare for me
#that brain damage + dyslexia combo is kicking my ass#reading in general is uh...not easy but ESPECIALLY not big walls of text#i know its generally frowned upon for some reason but i actually like when things are explained in the simplest way possible#like explain it to me like i'm a kindergartner who doesnt know shit about anything. big word stressful#and i have little to no faith in able bodied leftists to look out for the wellbeing of disabled people#i genuinely like discussing this stuff like communism is actually interesting to me#but i have yet to hear a response from someone when discussing disability that isnt either very vague or dismissive#like yes of course we'd only be doing what we're *able* to do in terms of work#i know I would be able to if there were more accessible options#however that wont be the case for everyone#and if ''work'' would be different from how it is now - how?#what would that look like? and when you say people would be taken care of is it just like the bare minimum? or something better?#for some reason some folks get defensive but like its a genuine question man#not all disabled people are the same - some can do far less than i can and i more than likely will never be able to hold a traditional job#i care about the wellbeing of all of us and want to make sure people aren't just getting the literal bare minimum to stay alive#we ALL deserve to be able to live our lives and be safe#engage with our interests and our community and live as individuals able to express our personalities#and god nothing enrages me more than the white commies who try to get all condescending with you#and insist that there's no such thing as a disabled person who is COMPLETELY unable to work#completely & conveniently forgetting that there are people w mental / developmental / physical disabilities who cant care for themselves#at ALL. even if the extreme cases aren't as common thats not an excuse to not think about them??#this is why i wont talk to white folks about politics. jesus christ#and they'll be the ones that are the loudest too#especially if you're an actual content creator and you're dismissing disabled people & treating them like shit?? you need your ass beat ♥#i'd really like to find some good audiobooks about communism#especially if they're something you can find thru online libraries like libby or on the internet archive
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funnyexel · 4 months
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he's obsessed.
Secondborn!Husband who coincidentally gets married to you just as your country’s death toll reached an all time high from war. So what his nation started it? That doesn’t matter now, you have to worry about your upcoming marriage.
Secondborn!Husband that found the engagement revolting until he saw your face and instantaneously changed his mind. Secondborn!Husband that purposely gives you a impression of disinterest, when in reality he’s infatuated by everything about you. From the way your eyes perk up when you see him for the first time to the way you softly sigh when you think you’re finally alone.
Secondborn!Husband that has a horrible reputation in his own country and jumps to keep his image intact, with you. Secondborn!Husband who doesn’t sugarcoat the way he feels about you in his head. Letting his wildest fantasies conjure up in his head once he’s alone and locked in his room.
Secondborn!Husband that physically shakes every time he realizes your wedding night is closing in. Realizing that, he’ll be able to touch your body and kiss you freely and he cannot wait. Secondborn!Husband that insisted you sleep in the same room with him, since your wedding date is creeping and you would need to get used to sleeping with someone else. And not because he wants to watch your peaceful expression as you sleep soundly next to him.
Secondborn!Husband whose real feelings are starting to get exposed, when you find your panties in his dresser. 
Pervert!Husband that steals your underwear when you carelessly leave them hidden underneath your pile of clothes as you go shower. Pervert!Husband who strangles his cock with your panties when you’re gone and moans pornographically when he comes in the fabric to the thought of you beneath him.
Secondborn!Husband who washes and hangs the underwear to avoid suspicion. 
Secondborn!Husband who feels a giddy feeling for the first time in years when you both say ‘I do’ at the altar. He bathes in the fact that you cannot and will not ever be with another man other than him for the rest of your days. 
Secondborn!Husband who finally has something that no one can take away from him, a oblivious little wife.
part 2
a/n: first post of 2024! thanks for following me into a new year and into a new era of posts.
more posts
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staff · 2 years
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Introducing: Community Labels
As you know, art and artists make Tumblr what it is. We want everyone on Tumblr to be able to fully express themselves while also having control over what they encounter on their dashboards. That’s why we’re introducing Community Labels, an extension to your “Content you see” settings. Our ultimate goal is to create a more open Tumblr, and this is our first step in that direction. 
As a poster and reblogger, Community Labels are your way to help your followers avoid anything they’d rather not come across on their dashboards.
As a follower, setting your content preferences is a way to adjust your feed to your own comfort levels. 
How does it work?
When creating new posts (or editing old posts), you’ll see controls allowing you to label your post as unsuitable for those filtering certain content types it contains. 
When content is labeled, it will either be hidden, blurred, or displayed normally, based on each user’s preferences.
In your “Content you see” settings, you can now choose to show, blur, or hide content that depicts the following topics:
Drug and alcohol addiction: Contains discussions of substance abuse or addiction experience.
Violence: Contains violent or graphic content similar to what you might see in an age-restricted movie.
Sexual themes: Contains sexually suggestive subject matter, such as erotic writing or imagery.
Some examples of content that would require a community label:
Fanart of your favorite ship engaging with each other in...a very private moment 
Euphoria GIFs showing Rue’s substance abuse 
A movie trailer depicting graphic war scenes 
A graphic 50 Shades of Grey edit
This doesn’t change our content policies: spam, hate content, and porn bots are still not welcome in the community. It’s also still important that we abide by app store rules, which means we need to make sure that mature content is only accessible to people who are old enough and have opted in to view that type of content. More information about Community Labels is available in the Help Center.
This is an opportunity to work towards a richer, more nuanced Tumblr experience while making sure everyone who enjoys using Tumblr can do so safely. That future we mentioned above? We’re already moving towards it.
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Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
From the ask here
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Seeing Simon on his motorcycle is something that awakens a new yearning inside you, but when you get your own bike and start riding alongside him, the way he gets you hot and bothered makes it worse. You need him to fuck you on his bike and you hope your plan will make it happen.
Word Count: 5 k
Warnings:
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The first time you ever saw Simon Riley perched atop his black motorcycle, in that moment some innate part of your brain was awakened and you were never the same. There was just something so incredibly erotic about the way those thick thighs straddled over the sides, the way his arms looked with their muscles bulging, straining his black short sleeved t-shirt wrapped around them as he leaned forward to reach the handlebars. Of course his helmet with the blacked out visor didn’t hurt either, not when paired with his sleeve of tattoos. He was a vision even more than usual and you were suddenly hooked. 
Then he took you for a ride along the open highway where he could really show you the power his bike had and that solidified your need to be involved in his hobby. Adrenaline, that was and still is Simon’s favorite part of being on the open road, his bike vibrating underneath him as the wind rushed past his body, and now that you had that first taste of it all, it was yours too. 
Whatever you needed to do to keep getting to look at him like that, to keep feeling that rush, you were more than willing to do it. 
Whenever he was on leave you two found yourselves on his bike, roaming the city on long night rides just to feel the wind on your skin and the rush of speed under your bodies. That was until he made an off-handed joke one day about getting you your own bike so that you could drive alongside him and then suddenly you were expressing how much you actually had been thinking about it. Sharing his hobby with someone, especially you, was something he has always wanted. To think you could experience the same thrills had him rushing to take you bike shopping the very next day so he could start teaching you.
You picked it all up relatively fast and before you knew it you had your license and regular drives have now become a part of your routine whenever your military man is in. Getting on the highway, opening the bike up as you go faster and faster, weaving through traffic with Simon always right by your side, there is something exhilarating about it all. And now you had the best view of that gorgeous specimen of a man.
Being able to see you on your own bike makes Simon have a taste of his own medicine because fuck did you look a goddamn beauty. Is this how you feel looking at him? The way it makes your back arch, full juicy arse just calling his name, has him salivating whenever he gets to see it. And he can’t help what it causes him to do; it’s not his fault when you look the way you do. The first time he ever pulled his little stunt, a ritual of sorts that he has to engage in every time you’re out driving together, you had a hard time focusing on the road after.
Bringing his bike close beside yours, he reaches out and runs his hand over the curve of your ass, making sure that he does it long enough that the other motorists behind you both can see him claim his hot biker vixen as his. You belong to him and he wants everyone that can see to know it.
And fuck does it drive him wild and have you reeling every time.
This goes on for quite a while, and all the times he’s touched you while riding have conjured up a new fantasy of yours and you finally decide you have to do something about it. Lately you’ve been thinking: what type of partner would you be if you didn’t return the favor? Simon deserves to be just as flustered too, right? It’s not because you need him to fuck you on his bike, nope, not all. 
Is it strange? Maybe. Will he go for it? You aren’t entirely sure, but one thing you do know is that you at least have to try. And if it works out, you know he’ll enjoy it too. On one of the last few nights of his leave, you decide that you’ve got nothing to lose and put your plan into motion.
“You know, it’s been so long since you took me on a ride with you,” you put your case to him tonight. “Like we used to. Me on the back of your bike, wrapped around you tight, you speeding through the lanes with the wind rushing past us. Remember that? I used to get so excited to see you just so you’d take me out with you.”
Those hazel eyes stare back at you curiously; of course he remembers. Christ, how could he ever fucking forget? Still, it’s intriguing to him why you would be bringing this up now. “What’s got ya all nostalgic sweetheart, hmm?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow. “Ya don’t like ridin’ beside me?”
You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Just thought it’d be nice to be close to you again is all, since you’ll be leaving soon,” you say as you bite your lip with a subtle coyness while you stare back at him with those tempting doe eyes that make him melt.
How can he say no to that? To his girl wanting to be near him? Absolutely fucking never.
“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he responds as he gets up while pointing towards the bedroom, “well, go get dressed then. Can’t say no to ya when ya look at me like that.”
Simon is already sitting on the bike out front ready to go when you emerge from the front door in a short skirt, tight tank top, and leather boots and once again he is reminded just how lucky he is to be with you. This just keeps getting better and better for the ol boy. 
Climbing on the back and securing yourself around him, helmets on and visors down, Simon takes off into the night. He can feel the pressure from your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, pressing into his abs as you hold on, the warmth of your chest against his back, your thighs saddled up against his, and he wonders why you both don’t do this more often. 
The lights of the city sparkle around you, cutting through the evening like stars to illuminate your way as Simon drifts through the streets, making his way to the highway like he always does. Your heart is beginning to beat faster as you wait for the opportune moment to implement your plan and you silently hope that it works. 
On the highway, weaving in and out of traffic, Simon detects the first signs of something happening behind him. The movement is subtle at first and he almost misses that both hands aren’t pinned against his stomach anymore until he detects the warmth from your palm as it comes to rest on top of his thigh. He looks down through the visor of his helmet to where your hand lays as he wonders curiously to himself about the intentions of your actions.
Just what the hell is she up to? he thinks to himself as he turns his attention back onto the darkened road studded with streetlights.
The answer is quickly approaching as he feels your hand on the move again, now inching towards the middle of his broad thighs, moving and stopping, moving and stopping, to the crotch of his jeans and suddenly he understands just as you make first contact with the mass contained inside. 
A shiver runs up Simon’s spine and you can feel his back shudder against your chest as you start to rub over the swell, your touches heavy and full of purpose. Over and over again your palm makes purchase with his crotch and you can feel the muscles in his back tense. A part of him wants to pull your hand off so that can refocus, but it feels too damn good to get you to quit. Fuck, the pressure from your hand and the vibration from the bike has him so hard he can barely see straight. 
He needs to find some place to stop and fast; if he’s going to come in something it is not going to be his pants, it’s going to be you. 
Up ahead he sees an exit fast approaching and he quickly transfers over to the lane and takes it, not having a plan, but hopeful that he will be able to find something satisfactory enough. Brown eyes dart from one side of the street to the other frantically searching for something, anything so that he can pull off. The sign for a large parking garage is illuminated just up ahead; it’ll have to do. He won’t be able to focus for much longer; the pressure of your hand rubbing against his cock mixed with the vibrations from the bike leaves him gnawing at the bit with a need that he desperately has to satisfy. It wouldn’t be safe to keep going, not with the way his limbs are starting to tingle.
Simon drives through the first couple of levels and is glad to see it relatively empty save for a few straggling cars spaced far apart. Perfect, that means no one will be around to disturb him until he has had his way with you. He continues on a couple of levels that are completely empty as he puts you both more in the middle of the structure just to be sure you will be all alone until finally he drives to the back of the garage and pulls into the shadow, parking the bike and shutting it off. 
“Hop off,” he says and you immediately do as you're told, taking off your helmet and straightening your skirt as you make it to your feet.
You stand there close to his thigh as he removes his helmet and sets it on the ground on the other side of the bike, running his fingers through his short hair to fluff it up from being crushed underneath. As he sits back up his tattooed arm quickly reaches out behind your head where he grabs your hair into a ponytail in his fist, keeping your head locked while his opposite hand palms around your waist as he leans in with a smirk across his lips and a glimmer in those coffee-colored eyes. 
“Whatcha think you’re doin’, sweetheart? Playin’ games, hmm?” he asks as he stares back into your face.
“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, your tone playful and coy. You know damn well what you are doing and he isn’t dumb enough to think you don’t.
He glares back at you skeptically. “Right.”
“What?” you dismiss him. “I thought you didn’t mind a bit of touching when we ride? Always grabbing me; thought you’d enjoy a bit of fun.” 
There it is; this is payback for all the times he’s made his move while you were out cruising together. And fuck, has it worked to perfection.
Simon rips his hand from your waist and wraps it around your wrist so that he can pull your hand forward and place it right up against the stiffening peak straining against the zipper of his form fitting jeans.
“So this is whatcha fuckin’ wanted, yeah?” he asks, breathiness in his gruff tone as your hand makes contact with the rigid bulge. “Gettin’ me so fuckin’ hard I can’t even be bothered ta wait till we get back home ta fuck ya?” 
Can’t wait? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? God, you hope so. “What do you mean?” you ask, faking your ignorance as you rub your palm over the swell while maintaining eye contact. “We aren’t going home?”
A deep hum echoes through the atmosphere as he bites his bottom lip; you’ve started something that can’t be stopped now and the way your hand continues to stimulate him, he doesn’t think you want it to anyway. “No,” he says with a shake of his head, “ya wanted to start all this on my bike, that’s fine. Guess I deserve it. But now…I’m gonna make damn sure I finish ya on it.”
As you stand there silently waiting to see what he does next, Simon shifts back in the seat and helps you climb back onto the bike, but facing him so that he can lay you over the fuel tank. He plants his feet firmly onto the ground to keep the setup steady and pulls your body down, those rough hands pushing your skirt up off your hips to your waist as he forces your legs open wider so he can get himself between them. 
Thank God you’ve worn something easy to get into. Or was that your plan all along? Doesn’t really matter much now; he’s in.
Simon looks down and his eyes catch sight of a dark spot in the crotch of your panties. He presses his hand up against the mound of your cunt and the pressure makes you twitch, your back arching up off the tank as he feels what he had just suspected: you’re a little damp.
“Seems someone’s already stirred up,” he comments as his hand releases the pressure only to press in tight all over again in a pattern that matches his increasing heart rate. “Ya like it, don’t ya baby? The way tha bike vibrates ‘tween your legs? Like the way it hums against ya ‘till your clit is swollen?”
Simon’s hard-on throbs harshly against the zipper of his pants and into your naked thigh, tenting the fabric while he grinds it into the muscle as you wrap your legs around his hips; you have to hold on as you can’t stop the way your body jerks the longer his touch prods against those sensitive lips. Just the pressure alone after the drive is enough to make you whimper inside your closed mouth.
“Have ya been thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ like this? Me fuckin’ ya raw while you’re on this thing?”
Releasing his hand, he walks those long fingers over the top of your clothed pussy to the waistband of your panties so that he can slip them inside and back down to the moist slit waiting eagerly for their touch and there it is, the unmistakable sound of his breath hitching as his hand makes contact. God, you always feel so fucking good. 
He uses his two middle fingers to part the lips of your slit and run them along the length to gather all the wetness he can on his digits so that once he finds your entrance he can easily slip up inside while the tip of his thumb nestles against your clit. You’re very warm, nice and hot and soft against his fingertips and a pleasurable hum he gives in response to the feeling.
“Ya know, I know why ya started ridin’ with me,” he says as you squirm. “I could see it in your eyes the second I pulled in to pick ya up that first time: ya like the way I look on my bike. Don’t ya?”
Your silence is met with a heavy jab with the pad of his thumb to that sensitive little button, holding it down until you are forced to answer as he thrusts his fingers inside you up to the knuckle. Your body takes them in perfectly, gripping tight around the digits as you suck him in. 
“Yes,” you say in a whine and buck as his stocky fingers give you a nice starting stretch. “You 
look so f-fucking hot on this thing that sometimes I d-don’t know what to do with myself. That’s w-why I n-need…”
“What do ya need, sweetheart?” he groans as he curls his rough fingers up against your G-spot as his thumb begins to stroke concise circles upon your clit. “Use your words.”
You swallow hard while breathing heavily out of your nose as you clamp your lips shut to stop from audibly crying out in ecstasy at that first contact he makes. “Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds as he pins his thumb down hard again. “Let me fuckin’ hear ya. Ain’t no one here ‘cept us.”
A desperate moan escapes your lips and echoes through the empty space as you let it all out. “I need you to f-fuck me on y-your b-bike,” you say as you vibrate under his skilled touch. “B-been daydreaming about it for a while. Didn’t know if you’d want to, but I’m desperate.”
Using a flick of his wrist, he begins to snap his fingers up into you faster and faster, those fingers vigorously working your cunt until your juices are starting to dribble down to collect on his palm and the sound of wet slaps reverberate off the concrete. 
“All ya had ta fuckin’ do was ask,” he says. “Ya know I’d do anythin’ for ya, luv; my pretty girl always gets what she wants.”
You look so beautiful sprawled over his bike like this, disheveled skirt shoved up to your ribs, his hand plunged into the front of your panties so that they are stretched tight around your hips ready to rip, back arching as he again strikes right at the exact point of pleasure, tiny beads of sweat sparkling over the exposed parts of your flesh as you burn for him in the warm night air. It’s an image he’s gonna have committed to memory; every time he rides now he will remember the gorgeous mess he made of you.
If he thought he liked his bike before, it is nothing compared to how he will feel after fucking you on it.
Minute after minute each stroke draws you near that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off. Your walls are fluttering around his fingers as they swell and become engorged the closer you get. Simon knows that it won’t be long now and his pulse races to feel it, that moment you come. But not like this, oh no.
He has still been chomping at the bit to relieve the pressure throbbing between his legs and now that he is sure you are ready for it, he isn’t going to waste time. You’re still in public after all, he doesn’t need this to end before you’ve both gotten off. Amidst your whimpered protests to keep going, that you are almost there, he pulls his fingers out of you with a squelch, your lubrication dripping along his fingers and glistening in the harsh lighting inside the garage. 
You lean your head up as Simon pulls his fingers apart to watch the sticky fluid string between them before he brings them to his mouth and rams them into his lips to lick them clean, taking care of the mess he’s created from his touch. Just a taste to sait him, as if his face isn’t going to be plastered between those thighs later as he replays the memory of what happened here.
The sight of him sucking the lubrication off his fingers has you gasping for air. How can someone look so perfect doing something so filthy? You need him, bad. “Please,” you beg with a needy whine in your voice, “I want you inside me.”
Those words are like striking a match near a gas leak; suddenly he is scrambling to move as fast as possible.  Feverish hands are clawing at clothing at breakneck speeds as his flesh begs to connect with yours and complete this union. “Ya can shoot me dead if I ever say no to that,” he growls as he moves. 
Time is of the essence and so he quickly rips the soaked crotch of your panties to the side, securing them against your thigh and out of his way as his free hand ruthlessly yanks at the button on his pants to get it undone before he wrenches down the zipper and releases his cock that is throbbing and aching with his rapid heartbeat. 
“Gotta make this quick, yeah?” he groans as the caress from his hand over the tip is almost too sensitive to handle. He’s falling fast. “Don’t want no one seein’ ya like this ‘cept me.”
Leaning down, he places a brief, heated kiss with his warm lips to the exposed skin near your belly button before he has you sitting up so that he can get at those lips he yearns to feel against him as he enters you. The threads of your panties are beginning to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way so he can move his hips in as he aligns the head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole. 
Eyes closed and acting off of pure impulse and adrenaline alone, he mutters a rushed “Breathe” into your open mouth as a warning while his fingertips dig into the meat of your hips. The tip prods the opening before it pushes through and slides up inside, the rest following behind in one steady, fluid motion until he reaches the base and there is no more to shove inside you.
Simon shudders at the overwhelming euphoria hitting him all at once and now he’s burning from the inside out, his bulky chest taut with each heavy breath that he releases between kisses as the feeling of you wrapped tightly around his phallus drowns out everything else that surrounds him. 
You throw your head back, breaking the kiss to cry out as you are filled to the brim, being stretched to capacity with all he has to give. His hand grabs at the back of your head so that his lips can shoot back to yours as a tether to help you calm until your body can be allowed a little time to adjust; he’s not exactly small by any means of the word. 
It’s a few seconds before he releases your mouth as he starts to thrust, trying to go slow at first even though he is eager for more. Hips rolling at a steady pace now he pulls back to watch himself pump in and out of you. “Look,” he says in a breathless growl as the hand on the back of your head directs your eyeline down in between your bodies. “This what ya been fuckin’ fantasizin’ ‘bout? I think it looks even prettier on my bike.”
The way his swollen, veiny cock disappears as it slides up into you is mesmerizing. You can feel it but still seeing it has you questioning…where does it all fit? 
He keeps you close as he picks up the pace until the sound of slapping skin against skin fills the silent space. Panting into your face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Simon puts more into his thrusts so that even the bike itself begins to rock with you from the force. The longer he goes the more feral he gets, relinquishing any hold he had on his sanity for as long as he gets to have his body stay fitting so nicely into your cunt.
It’s building, the warmth in the pit of your stomach is gathering steadily as the epinephrine releases all those euphoric chemicals into your bloodstream. The risky nature of your endeavor, the stimulation he’s already produced with his fingers, the fulfilling of your fantasy, it all works together to fuel your passion and his strong thrusts have you ready to spill over the edge at any second.
Simon keeps his pace even as he is now struggling to keep it together. The excitement has gotten to him too so that if he lets himself lose control he is going to come and he can’t have that, not until you have. With each passing second, each pound of that deadly appendage inside you gets more and more desperate, until he finally hears those sweet, sweet words that make his heart skip a beat.
“Don’t stop, baby,” you beg, your voice cracking with desperation as you try to keep your volume at a reasonable level while he slams into you again. “So c-close…”
“Come for me, baby, that’s it,” he coaxes desperately through gritted teeth as he strains to hold on a little longer. Just a little bit more and you’ll finish and he can let go.  
That’s when an idea is thrust into his brain and he knows what he needs to do to bring this full fucking circle for the both of you; complete the fantasy and give you even more to dream about for later. Simon moves over top of you to force you back until you find yourself against the fuel tank again.
Reaching above your head, he cranks the key and restarts the engine. The motorcycle roars to life, filling the garage with its sound, and begins to vibrate until it is pulsating through his body as he thrusts into you harder and harder. It’s like having your own living dildo that only intensifies the stimulation the longer he plunges into your dripping hole; a few more seconds of this and you will be coming on his cock.
And then he revvs the engine…  
The stimulation is too much and suddenly you are forcibly thrown over that precipice as you come with such force, like a hot flash of white light, that your thighs clamp down around his hips as your head falls back. You cry out in choking gasps as your orgasm tears through you; so strong that you are shaking. Your walls are fluttering sporadically around his cock as your hips buck against him unrelentingly and he can’t hold back any longer. 
“Where do ya want me?” he pleads as his fingertips claw at your hips, stabbing harshly into the muscle as he holds on for you to answer; he is about to blow.
“In me, in me,” you whine as you clamp your legs down hard to keep him in. What else were you on birth control for other than this? 
He jerks violently as your pussy continues to flutter around him, making his limbs numb from the pleasure, and with a loud groan that is akin to the bellow of a wild beast, the pressure building at the base of his spine finally reaching its peak and he falls over the edge as he lets it go. His hips never stop, slamming into you as the thick, warm fluid coats the inside of your pussy.
“Fuckin’ hell, luv,” he repeats as he shuts off the engine while he milks himself dry, his thrusts slowing down after a few seconds until they stop all together and he stays with his cock still buried inside you to let your body finish off the rest.
An unknown amount of time passes as your unsteady breathing slowly returns to a more tolerable rhythm, all the while Simon just sits there admiring the products of his labor: the beautiful flush in your cheeks and the contented, glazed look in your eyes, until he can find his voice again once his heartbeat has settled.
“Ya know, I’ve gotten plenty a compliments about my bike, but I gotta say that you’re the prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever rode, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls you in by the back of your head to press another breathless kiss onto your lips.
It is torture having to pull out of you, but even he isn’t delusional enough anymore to think that you can just stay like this for much longer. You’ll have to go soon and he needs to help you to redress as your legs are shaking uncontrollably. There’s no way in hell someone hasn’t heard the noise you’d been making.
“Was it everythin’ ya hoped?” he asks with a contented smile as he carefully moves you off the bike to your feet so that he can readjust your panties and pull down your skirt back around your hips.
You match his expression through the hazy afterglow of your ecstasy as he finishes you up and gets himself situated. A pretty sizable wet stain darkens the middle of his jeans, but he doesn’t pay it any mind; a risk of a good fucking time, that’s all.
“Better,” you murmur, satisfied.
Bringing his hand up he cups it against your cheek a second before he combs his fingers through your hair until he reaches the back of your head where he holds them wrapped in the strands. There’s one final thing he has to do before you get going and that is to give you one last kiss as praise for doing so well for him. With how strung out you still are from your orgasm, the gentleness of it makes your knees weak.
“Now how ‘bout we get back so we can go for round two?” he smirks against your mouth as he pulls away. “We can pretend I’m your bike and ya can show me how well I taught ya to ride.”
He gets you situated on the back of the bike, helmets and all, and restarts the engine. It bursts to life and that familiar vibration makes you squeeze your thighs together all over again. Simon smirks to himself before he turns to you with the visor still pulled up. He opens yours and leans in. “Keep your thighs tight. I want ya ta keep all that inside til we get back. I got plans to watch it leak out; I think I’ve earned it.”
With a mischievous chuckle, he closes your visor and his and takes off back out of the garage and into the cool night air. Good thing it isn’t far back to the house from here…if Simon doesn’t plan to take a detour first.
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shockedemojiatsv · 1 month
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▪︎■☆ молоко 🥛 ☆■▪︎
(Translation: Milk)
Part 1, Part 2
☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞
☆ amab! Switch! Francis Mosses / gn! Switch! Reader
☆ Reader can have either amab genitalia or a strap
☆ soft sex
☆ implied Russian speaking Francis
☆ short
☆ a little bit of a twist in the end
☆ author has played Not My Neighbor
°○☆nsfw under the cut☆○°
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Francis was usually a laid back person who had a hard time showing any physical reactions to his feelings (not out of being stoic, usually he's just a little too tired to smile when he's happy or scream when he's scared). He wasn't one to smile all the time, but he showed his affection through other means. Like walking behind your back and kissing the nape of your neck and whispering "Золотце" (darling) behind your ear.
Or offering you some of his milk from work that his job wasn't able to sell so that you both could make something together or eat cereal together. There are a lot of doppelgangers everyday, everywhere, so he really cares about you. Even when he's usually too tired to express it with his face, he'll do so with his actions.
D.D.D. Is a pretty strict, so you and him made it an effort to always do everything required. If he forgot his hat at home he'd have a spare at work. You'd both work on your entry requests and always keep your ID's with you and to try to make an effort to always add your names on the list. Even if there would be an emergency at work. Just some extra measures to ease his anxiousness. And yours.
Other than that, being with him is always sweet. Like a warm mug of milk on a cold day. Steaming and keeping you warm.
Not to mentioned the sex with him. God. There's something about him and sex that makes you glad he's yours and yours alone.
His fingers are long. Not that thick, but he knew how to use them. Keenly observing your reactions within each prod as his digits brushed against a bundle of nerves that has you clutching his neck tight and holding him closer to you as he whispers "Куколка (dolly)... mmm... look at you"
He's not as verbal but he certainly has a smile on his face when he pleasures you and gives you what you want. Stroking and rubbing st your junk, it's wet. Thanks to him latching his mouth on the organ so that you could cum a couple times beforehand. He just wants to make you happy not gonna lie.
Oh, but sometimes he'll end up being a little too tired from work and not have the stamina to move at all. Not to worry! He'll be your pillow princess for the night. He loves those nights. You'll kiss his forehead softly whilst you thrust inside of him. A slow, passionate pace. You're slowly rearranging his guts while he holds the sheets so tight you'll fear they might rip in the morning.
He's a hummer. He'll hum and murmur stupid when he's fucking you. Or when you're fucking him. Phrases like "mmm... oh... З-Золотце... mmmmnnn..."
He can't help it! Even if he tried. He got shy about it actually but when you do engaged in sex more he felt like comfortable doing it. Honestly it's adorable.
Especially when he's giving oral. He's humming and drunk on the taste of you and he's always humming and moaning softly as you use him, and it feels so good. The added stimulation is so goddamn heavenly. And he's always good. He'd never tease and he never uses his teeth. He doesn't mind though if you do it. He's flexible with your desires. As long as if it isn't extreme or legitimately disgusting.
You love him so much and he loves you too and the entire building definitely knows.
...
So when he comes home with an odd demeanor. As if he's forgotten everything you two shared previously, as if hes a totally different person, you'll only have yourself to save before it's too late.
.
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the-writer-arrived · 10 months
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Wait, you're engaged?!
Synopsis: you two are engaged, congrats!! how does he share the news with others?
Characters: alhaitham; diluc ragnvindr.
Warnings: gender neutral!reader, fluff, crack, this is actually more crack than fluff oh well, diluc and kaeya are brothers.
A/N: this is the third draft I wrote in two hours. IS THIS WHAT'S LIKE TO HAVE MOTIVATION????
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It all started with a simple question about your well-being coming from Kaveh.
"So, how have they been lately?" was what the architect had asked, while shaking the elemental dice in his hand. He was playing a TCG match against Cyno, not an uncommon occurrence when the 4ggravate group of friends get together at Lambad's Tavern.
"Oh, my fiancée is doing just fine, I guess they're in a bit more energetic mood than usual." was what Alhaitham had answered, nonchalant as if he was talking about the weather and hadn't just dropped a huge bomb just like that.
The cheeky bastard is actually hiding his smirk with his wine cup, totally satisfied with himself at the shocked looks everyone has now.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?!"
"Kaveh, please don't yell, you're making my ears hurt!"
"A-Ah! Sorry, Tighnari..."
"It seems like you didn't get a single dice of the elements you needed, your luck is truly something to be researched about."
"Wha-?! You...! Ah, no, wait, who cares about that?!"
I'm telling you, the guy is doing all he can to surpress the grin threatening to appear on his face.
No one was expecting to hear that, heck they didn't even know Alhaitham had bought a ring in the first place????
Dude how come you don't share these life changing plans with your homies?!
He shares the tale of how he had proposed to you... And let's just say Kaveh's romantic side was not happy about how it happened.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU PROPOSED WHILE YOU TWO WERE LOUNGING IN THE LIVING ROOM???"
"Kaveh, too loud!"
"S-Sorry!"
Much to Kaveh's dismay, Alhaitham didn't make any extravagant gesture or big preparations.
It was just you and him, in the comfort of your home and it just felt right to pop the question at that moment.
What no one, not even you, knew is that the confident, smart and aloof scribe had not actually planned to propose to you like that at all.
Ever since he had bought the ring months ago, Alhaitham had devised so many different ways on how to do it, always thinking about which scenario would make you the happiest.
But when he had you laid down on his lap, spounting your usual nonsense just to try to get a reaction out of him because you were bored, it simply felt... right to do it right then and there.
Make no mistake, he may not have shown, but his hand was shaking when he pulled the small box out of his pocket, he had to thank Lesser Lord Kusanali for allowing his voice to not come out shaky.
Alhaitham's cockiness aside, Cyno, Tighnari and Kaveh are all genuinely very happy at the unexpected, but positive news.
"Let's order some bread, then."
"Bread? Why do you want bread all of a sudden?"
"So we can offer a toast to the future spouses... Get it? Toast? As in-"
"Yes Cyno, we get it!"
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Ahhh Diluc, my sweet Batman of Mondstadt... He had always thought that the best course of action was to keep everyone at arm's length, not only for his sake, but for other people as well.
Now, as he gazes at the beautiful ring on your finger, he can only laugh at how naive he was for thinking he would be able to do that during his whole life.
On the next day after he had proposed to you, every customer in Angel's Share can see Master Diluc acting rather... odd.
He seems... I don't know, lighter? His expression doesn't look so serious anymore... Wait, is he... smiling?!
Needless to say, everyone at the tavern is dying to know what happened to the tycoon of the wine industry, but no one dares to ask him directly...
...no one but a certain cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonious, that is.
"My, someone is in a good mood today. Did something nice happened lately, Master Diluc?"
"Here's your Death After Noon, Kaeya."
"...Okay, something must have happened for you to prepare my drink before I even ordered it."
After much poking and prying from Kaeya, Diluc finally relents, just so the pestering would stop.
It's a lie, he is actually feeling ecstatic to be able to share the news with someone.
Everyone and their grandma knew about your relationship with Diluc of course, it's a bit hard not to when you are dating the uncrowned king of Mondstadt himself, despite you two not making a public announcement of being together.
So, before he could even tell Kaeya that he had proposed to you, the captain already suspected that that was the reason for his brother's sudden change of behavior.
Even so, that doesn't stop a genuine smile to appear on Kaeya's face as he congratulates Diluc.
"It's about time! I was starting to wonder how many more years you were going to make me wait, before I had the chance be your best man in your wedding."
"Who said you're going to be my best man?"
"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you've forgotten our promise to be each other's best man when we were younger?"
"...I'm surprised you still remember that.
What Diluc wasn't aware at that moment was that a certain bard had eavesdropped "accidentaly" listened to his private conversation with the cavalry captain.
It was such great news, the bard couldn't help but let it escape during the drunk conversations he had with other patrons that night.
How could he imagine that those patrons would tell their friends, who would tell their friends and so on? Of course the kind-hearted bard wouldn't do that on purpose!
It's not his fault that all the citizens of Mondstadt now know about Diluc's engagement with you!
Sorry Donna.
"Come now, Master Diluc! Good news are meant to be shared with others! Who knows? Maybe even the Anemo Archon caught wind of them, ehe!"
"...I won't sell you any wine for a month now."
"W-What?! Please, don't be so cruel, Master Diluc!"
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thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
heart divider made by @/cafekitsune
pink alhaitham and diluc banners (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly <3
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brainwormcity · 4 months
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I've seen people remark on how awkward the 1967 scene is and that is so frustrating because, for me, it is one of the most emotionally resonant flashbacks in the entire series. It is so multifaceted and ripe with implication and that assertion is baffling. As though just because this conversation appears to be hard for them, it must mean that there has to be some sense of weirdness or awkwardness between them?
This scene feeds heavily into my theory that 1941 ended in some sort of aborted romantic moment between the two, most likely initiated by Crowley. Aziraphale can barely stand to look at Crowley because the very first moment he looks him in the face, he can't stop himself from giving him this hooded eyes, barely contained look of longing.
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The next thing we see is Aziraphale immediately launching into a statement about his fear for Crowley's existence that is as brutally sincere as it is heartrending. His eyes are wide, his voice is heavy with emotion, and it's clear that he is terrified beyond belief to lose Crowley. Even as he acquiesces and gives him the holy water, you can see that he wants to take it back and deny him it all over again.
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Then, of course, Crowley asks if he can give him a lift, which is definitely something that they both know is a totally different question than what lies on the surface, given that they're mere feet from the bookshop and at first Crowley frowns so deeply that it's almost cartoonish but a moment after Aziraphale turns him down you get this glimpse of very real sadness:
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Aziraphale sees it for what it is and in an attempt to comfort him, without being able to do what currently seems impossible to him, shares a fanciful but resigned fantasy about spending time together unbothered and unrestrained, all to the tune of these tight little, loving smiles:
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When he asks again, you can just see Crowley's desperation for Aziraphale not to go. It's hard to say how long they'd been apart, but it's safe to say that for them, that previous interaction likely is very fresh in their minds.
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Aziraphale has always been more fearful than Crowley when it comes to their feelings for each other. You could even potentially look at the holy water as a metaphor for their relationship. In his expressions of concern about The Arrangement, Aziraphale has always been remarking on how Crowley could be destroyed, similarly to his words here. So when he's telling him, "You go too fast for me, Crowley," what he's really saying is, "I'm terribly afraid and I'm not ready to take that step if it means that I could lose you." And it's plain to see by the wistful look on his face that it pains him greatly to say it:
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The scene so quickly cuts to Crowley looking intensely at the holy water after Aziraphale has left the car (as if trying to convince you that that was the real point of the scene) that it's easy to miss this devastated expression on Crowley's face:
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There's no look of perceived rejection on his face. Just a somber look of resignation. There are so many barriers in front of them, and I think that Crowley was willing to risk it but understood that Aziraphale wasn't ready to.
This is the most honest and laid bare we ever see these two be when it comes to their emotions. There's so much being said without being said and even their actual words (i.e. Crowley remembering exactly the amount of time when the 'fraternizing' conversation happened) are so full of emotion that it might even be a bit hard for some people to watch.
It's not awkward. It's just that the scene is just so incredibly earnest and heavy with coded language that it's easy to be swept up by the fact that the two aren't engaged in their typical banter and bickering. What we truly have here is an incredibly difficult and loving conversation between two people who are stuck in a seemingly impossible situation.
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roseykat · 6 months
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TITLE: Sexual habits
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SUMMARY: an OT8 blurb of each of the members’ small sexual habits.
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.
TAGS: mentions of sex, orgasms, notions of nipple play and biting (nothing major)
MASTERLIST
BANG CHAN
You know that video compilation of when everytime Chan laughs, he squeaks? He does the exact same thing but in the bedroom too. When the pleasure is exceedingly intense for him, he will moan and what not. But amongst those erotic sounds that come out of his mouth, are tiny squeaks. It’s like he does it because he can’t take it. As he watches his cock slide in and out of you, glistening with your juices, Chan is a moaning (slightly squeaky) mess.
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MINHO
Furrowing his eyebrows during sex. It’s his face of concentration and it’s insanely hot. He might look angry, but he’s the complete opposite. Similar to others, it’s just his way of expressing what he’s feeling on the inside whenever he fucks you. His mind is trying to hone in on the feelings that your pussy or mouth makes him feel, because of that, he’ll hiss at the pleasure building while his eyebrows knit together. It makes you wish you could take a photo of him in that state if he’d let you…
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CHANGBIN
Has a very strong habit of lip biting. Usually when you ride him, Changbin will watch down his abdomen at the space in between your legs where his cock slips away smoothly. As a result, he’ll tend to bite down on his bottom lip out of frustration at how good he feels and how good it looks. In saying that, he also has a tendency to bite your lip whenever the two of you are making out or kissing.
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HYUNJIN
Needs to orgasm at the exact same time as you. To him, there’s something about cumming with you that he finds so indescribably hot and also makes him orgasm harder. It won’t usually take you long to cum and neither for him, but the only difference is that if and when he is waiting for you to reach the same height as him, he has to try with every ounce of his strength not to bust so early in order to cum with you.
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JISUNG
Rolling his eyes. With a very over sensitive body, Jisung isn’t immune to dealing with large volumes of pleasure. So when you edge him - he’s fucking gone. He goes from swearing into the air, cursing at nothing bc of how good it feels, then his words melt in his brain before they come out. It’s easy to reduce him to just moans and grunts all the while you get to watch his eyes continue to roll back sometimes. It’s an interesting observation seeing a person just lose all grip of reality. However, you swear that his eyes will get stuck in the back of his head one day.
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FELIX
Grasping or holding onto you. This seems obvious bc sex can be complicated when you haven’t got a hold of something. Like grabbing someone’s hips or ass, areas as such. But that’s not the type I mean. Felix needs to hold onto you bc he enjoys the intimacy of it. If he’s fucking you missionary, his left arm is underneath your body, above your shoulder blades like he’s trying to hug you. When you’re riding him, he sits up with you so his arms can wrap around your body when you roll your hips down onto his cock. It brings his skin closer to yours and he’ll never ever get enough of just feeling your body. Not even in a sexual way sometimes.
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SEUNGMIN
Checks in on you a lot. While we (most of the time mainly me) sometimes proclaim him as a bit of mean/hard top/dom at times, he’s also very caring. When trying new positions, he’ll ask you things like ‘is that okay?’, ‘how do you feel?’, ‘tell me what it’s like baby’, ‘need me to go faster or slower?’ There’s something about him asking those variations of consensual questions that turn you on even more bc it demonstrates that he’s in tune to the moment and with what’s happening but most importantly, because he cares about your needs and overall loves you a lot.
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JEONGIN
Seems to have a habit where he bites and or nips. Half the time, Jeongin doesn’t even mean to do it and doesn’t realise that he is until it evokes an emotion out of you. Your neck appears to be the spot that he goes for because he finds that that’s where you’re the most sensitive. If not, then he goes for your earlobe. Or in more heated situations where his mind flies out the gate, he will lick, bite, and suck on either one of your nipples. He loves the way that when he does it, you arch your back which presses your chest further into his mouth for him to torment you.
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