sednonamoris

[sednonamoris]

After the sun

[sednonamoris]

ditch character ai. write fanfic. read fanfic. make a rp blog. send asks to a rp blog. you're too embarrassed? go anon. tell nobody its you. people aren't interacting? send yourself asks, send other people asks, reblog, share, get INVOLVED!! the community and humanity of it all is part of the buzz

if all that fails, stare at the ceiling and imagine it like your anatomy intended. u don't need that brainless algorithm; use your head !! it comes free !! included with your life !!

[sednonamoris]

Clouds over the valley, southeast Arizona. Photo copyright by j.e.syme 2024

[sednonamoris]

most of the time everything sucks but when the sky is blanketed in dark blue-grey clouds after heavy raining and the sun starts to peek through the clouds so that the tops of trees glint pale green and every white structure is starkly, blindingly silhouetted against the sky i’m ok.

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the way i have restarted this chapter three times now ,,

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200 ghost story kudos on ao3 who cried 😭

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modern day ghost is going stupid going craaaazy at the local dive bar doing line dances you’ve never even heard of 🕺

[sednonamoris]

CREGAN STARK - NSFW ALPHABET

pairing: cregan stark x fem!reader

synopsis: cregan starks NSFW alphabet (A - Z)

authors note: back with everyone’s favorite wolf papa. i’d say this is long awaited… but here it sits hours after requested. anyways, ARF ARF ARF ARF. enjoy!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

definitely the type to just sit still for a moment after you both peak. pressing kisses to any expanse of skin he can reach, regaining his breath and holding your trembling form as you come down from your high. would hold you for a few moments, before pressing a kiss to your chest, handing you a cup of water, & moving to run a bath for you both.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

i think his favorite part of you would be your hands. he likes the way they scratch down his back in the throes of pleasure, how they find purchase in the stands of his hair when his heads between your thighs etc. they’re so small compared to his, and looking at them splayed across parts of his body always gets him so weak. his favorite thing is to have you stroke him, watching your hand wrap around his girth & move up and down his cock….

his favorite body part of himself is his shoulders/back, but not for the reasons you might think. they’re his favorite part of himself because it’s your favorite part of him. cregan is observant, he can see the way your gaze always lingers on his back as he dresses, how you watch his fur cloak drape over the expanse of his shoulders, how your pupils dance with desire watching his shoulders clip narrow doorways. it only makes him smirk, warmth pooling in his gut as he“accidentally” brushes your own shoulders with his in passing.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

cums inside of you every time you lay together. part of it is his breeding kink — he wants his seed to take, and get you with child as soon as possible (also peaks harder when he imagines you round with child). he thinks of it as a win-win-win really, you get to feel his seed coat your walls, he gets to feel you clench down on him as he peaks, and it’s one step closer to starting a family.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

cregan secretly wants to taste you under the weirwood tree in the godswood. he refrains (for now), wanting to protect your virtue & dignity. but truly, secretly, he wants to seat you on the bench, disappear under your skirts, and worship what the gods created.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

very experienced, definitely knows what he’s doing. some women would find the fact their husbands have been with other people before distasteful, but you don’t mind. it’s reassuring to know he’s got you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

if i said missionary am i getting shot. he’s also a sucker for cowgirl tbh.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

not very goofy in the moment, takes you trusting him with your body very seriously. but if something were to happen that would make you laugh (him hitting his head on the ceiling, tripping over yourselves trying to get undressed etc) best believe he’s smiling right along with you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

the carpet matches the drapes. he’s a northman, he definitely doesn’t shave. he wouldn’t expect you to shave either, but would groom himself/keep himself trimmed if you asked it of him. he doesn’t care about hair — it was put there for a reason, and if you don’t care either, he’s not shaving. 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he’s very purposefully romantic during your first time laying together. not that he isn’t from then on out, but he made it a point to be romantic while taking your maidenhood. you have nights where romance is in the air, and others where you’re desperate for release. i feel like it varies, and cregan is good at keeping that balance of romantic & lighthearted sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

don’t ask me why, but i feel like he doesn’t jack off. like, at all. he’s got you, why would he settle for his fist? also secretly likes testing himself & his own will, no matter how pent up he is, he’s saving himself for you — which makes the release even sweeter.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

breeding kink & size kink truther.

wants a family with you badly, as much is evident in his actions. the way his gaze darkens and his expression gets distant watching you interact with kids, and he makes sure to cum inside you each time you lay together. has this insatiable need to give you his pups :(

cregan greatly appreciates the size difference between you two (as do you, but he pretends like he doesn’t notice). there’s something about being able to fully shield your body with his… he likes being big and strong, knowing he’s capable of protecting you & your pups. being able to pick you up with ease, hold you down as you squirm beneath him, blanketing you with his bulk as he rolls his hips impossibly slow.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

the good old bedroom, the godswood (if you allow it), and on the table in the room in which the council gathers….🙂‍↕️

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

watching you interact with kids, seeing you stare at him/his body, your cleavage, teasing him, you kissing his neck. basically — you, you, you. hope this helps!

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

wouldn’t hit you/do anything to bring you harm, (nobody shoot me) somnophilia, anything w scat/piss

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

i think his preference on giving and receiving is pretty equal tbh. may lean a little more towards giving, but he doesn’t dislike receiving (far from it). & i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again — the way cregan eats you out is intense. has an iron grip on your thighs too, sos squirming away isn’t an option. ‘too much’ doesn’t exist in his vocabulary.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

his pace can change, and depends on circumstances. usually a bit on the slower side, but only because he reaches deeper. like i said, however, this is subject to change. he’ll be rough and fast if you ask it if him, and sometimes, he just needs to get it out of his system.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

doesn’t mind a quickie. enjoys one every once in a while, but he prefers to take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

cregans got three places he’s willing to take you in. your chambers, the godswood, and the council room. he doesn’t enjoy the thought of someone walking into you both in a compromised position, he wants people to respect you (and him).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i feel like in consecutive rounds — probably two or three. id say he takes you multiple times throughout the day, but tbh, he likes the freedom you both have during the night. when you both return to your chambers & he can spend as much time with you as he wants. and he likes that throughout the day, he can rely on the promise of you waiting for him in your shared chambers when the sun sets. where he can be cregan instead of lord stark.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

shoot me i don’t think cregan owns toys. then again, what is this — 129 AC.? what toys are there? even if there are, i don’t think he’d be into them. i think he’s simple in that aspect.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

the answers are different based on nsfw or sfw (but this is an nsfw alphabet so yk). he’s very straightforward and to the point, sometimes almost overwhelmingly so. might tease for a fleeting moment, but i don’t see him as that kind of man. if he’s teasing, it’s outside of the bedroom. once you’re in it, his hands are roaming, hot and fast against your skin as he moves to undress you. he himself is too desperate to properly tease.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

id say average in volume (maybe a bit below average). a grunter to the core for sure, but still has groans, sighs, and occasional moans spilling from his lips.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he wants to fuck you in the council room. right on top of the table. it’s a more boyish fantasy he has, almost like a way to stick it to the men that frustrate him on the daily. you bring out his more playful side, the one that wants to sully the council table with your bodies.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i’ll say only one thing. girthy. intimidating. i’ll leave the rest up to the imagination. (that was two things i am so aware shut up)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

fairly high. he yearns for you often, but (usually) isn’t insatiable, unlike somebody i know. cough cough robb stark what who said that

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

would take some time to fall asleep tbh. would help clean you both up, might go to the kitchens to bribe the cooks for a snack, or scan through the letters on his desk. or if it’s late at night, he’d spend some time just holding you, savoring the feeling of you inside his arms. unless he’s just exhausted — then he’s out like a light.

[sednonamoris]

José Saramago, Cain (tr. Margaret Jull Costa)

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me the second anyone brings up using chatgpt or c.ai

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trying to prepare myself for the pain that inevitably will come with ghost and john’s story 😭 i don’t think i will be ready

it’s gonna hurt so good !!

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uh oh sisters!! 🫢

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John Price who leans real close when you talk to him, dips his shoulders so he can hear what you’re saying. Makes you flustered everytime he ducks his head next to yours when you two sit together, his shoulder pressed flat against yours.

You think it’s because he likes you. A gesture to show you that he wants to be close to you and listen to what you have to say.

Whole time it’s cause he’s so old he can’t hear shit 😔💔

[sednonamoris]

back at it like a bad habit!! no context spoilers for ch. 27

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new ghost anthem just dropped 🗣️

[sednonamoris]

water of the womb

Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader

Summary: Jack is recovered in St. Denis. With the boy back in one piece John has to reckon with what fatherhood really means.

Warnings: Too much dialogue, daddy issues/fatherhood issues, references to violence, mild angst, kidnapping (+resolution), canon-typical violence/references to violence

Word count: 1,489

A/N: We're so back 😤

Series masterlist • AO3

—

John, Arthur, and Dutch are all in St. Denis chasing the hope that a stolen little boy is still alive.

Part of you wishes you’d gone with, but the better part knows it’s not your place. You’ve tried time and again to comfort Arthur and console Abigail and convince John that things will end up alright, somehow. Always stumbling on in spite of their upset. Always coming up with the wrong words. Times like these it feels like there’s hardly a right word to find. Sorry isn’t enough, and neither is some empty platitude, though you’ve tried plenty of both.

Jack is their son. It’s tough to be that scared.

The whole of camp has been walking on eggshells lest Abigail’s fearful wrath unleash itself upon them. She’s hardly spoken a soft word since her boy’s been missing, eyes balefire blue and scorching. No one can do right, and anyone sitting around not searching is to blame even though Dutch promised that he and both of Jack’s mismatch fathers would leave no smokestack city stone unturned. They’ve been gone since first light. Golden sunshine tells you it’s well past noon now. 

The law, at least, hasn’t caught up to you here at Shady Belle. That’s about all that recommends it; it’s not much of a manor house anymore, and the heat and the damp are worse in the heart of the bayou, and the alligators are far too close for comfort. It is good sport feeding them all the unfortunate souls that get in your way, though. Since John and Arthur threw those squatters off the dock they’ve been sitting in the depths, waiting. Watching. Now they’re content to eye your lure lazily as it spins through the murky swamp water in search of bass. Maybe some ambitious perch. A distraction.

Normally fishing relaxes you, or at least takes your mind off things. Today you’re wound tighter than your reel and feel like an old length of line that might snap at any moment. There’s that familiar itch you get right before a big robbery where you feel like you’ll crawl out of your own skin. The only way to curb it is reckless abandon, but that’s the last thing anyone needs right now. So here you are. On the dock. Fishing. Entertaining the alligators. Hours have gone by now without a single bite. 

“You’re using the wrong bait,” a familiar voice calls from the end of the dock. Hosea. You don’t turn to greet him.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yep. Should try live bait if you’re after those bass I’ve seen swimmin’ around.” His steps creak along the crooked dock as he settles to stand beside you. 

“You don’t think the gators will like those a little too much?” 

He laughs quietly and puts a hand on your shoulder. The sticky afternoon silences. “If you manage to reel a gator in with a worm I really will have seen it all.” 

You lean subconsciously into the touch and sigh out a laugh yourself. When the last of the line is reeled in you hook your lure and lean your pole against the dock by the empty fish pail and finally turn to face Hosea. The fine wrinkles of his weathered face have deepened with bad health and worry over these past few months. He looks about the way you feel.

“They’ll find Jack, won’t they?” you ask. No point pretending it’s not what’s on everyone’s mind. The crying orphan locked in your chest can’t bear to think of the alternative, but the hard, crooked adult you’ve become says there’s no way he’s alive. Things don’t just work out nice for people like you. Not after all that’s been done. 

“I have to believe they will,” Hosea says. “One way or another.”

You duck your head. “I guess that’s what I’m afraid of.”

 He shakes his and lets his eyes wander over the swaying reeds and the dancing dragonflies and the dark water and the look on your face. “Bessie and I never had kids. Being a parent in a world like ours always seemed like too much to lose, and I’ve been on the run now longer than you’ve been alive.” You snort a little at his old man sentimentality and he continues, “But if something ever happened to you or Arthur or John, my heart would break like a parent’s, I think. Right now, with that little boy gone, it’s breaking.”

“Hosea…”

“Jack’s a good kid. It’s been good, seeing him smile. Seeing all of you smile. Maybe it’s selfish of me not to want to see that all go away, I don’t know.” 

“He is a good kid. I worry for…” You pause, uncertain, and when Hosea lifts his eyes to meet yours you know he sees what lies there unsaid. You’re worried for Jack—for all of them—but you can’t lose John. Not now. Not after you’ve only just got him. Maybe you’re selfish, too. “I guess I’m just worried,” you finish lamely.

He smiles sadly in understanding. Shady Belle stands vigil, waiting. The afternoon drags on. 

— 

You’re sitting on the porch with Abigail watching heat lightning flash among purple clouds in the just-dark sky when Jack rides in at the front of John’s saddle, grinning from ear to ear.

Alive. He’s alive. 

Dutch calls Abigail’s name. “We got you your son!”

It’s an overlapping chorus of Jack! and  he’s fine and we got him and you’re alright, darlin’ and Jack’s joyful reassurance that he’s been fed just fine - Italian food. The evening is sticky and hot; Arthur, John, and Dutch are covered in sweat. So are their horses. Abigail doesn’t feel it at all as she drops to her knees and scoops that little boy into her arms the first chance she gets.

“Come here, you silly boy!”

“Momma you’re squeezing too tight!” he protests, but she hardly hears him, unburying her boy with each squeeze of his very much alive body. 

“You found him.” Her laugh lies just on the edge of hysterical tears. “Dutch, Arthur, thank you. Thank you.” 

John stands there stiffly. She doesn’t even glance his way.

It’s not long before Jack gets swept up in the welcome committee’s warm embrace as the entire gang makes its way to the campfire and Pearson starts doling out drinks. Dutch walks off to speak with Hosea about whatever it is Bronte must have said or offered with the commandment to both Arthur and John to be with their family. Arthur makes for Abigail right away, arm around her shoulders and soft smile on his face. John looks wistfully toward Jack once more. Then he finds you. 

You open your arms and he buries himself in your shoulder, slumping with exhaustion and breathing deep.

“Wasn’t sure you boys would be back so soon,” you say as he steps back somewhat reluctantly. Jack’s sweet laughter rings out over the sound of singing.

“Wasn’t sure we’d be bringin’ back good news.” His mouth twists, unresolved anger and sick relief. His words from weeks ago still echo in your head. Like a son. Tough to be that scared. 

“He seems fine, anyway. How are you?”

“I’m—” He runs a hand over his face and sighs. When he finally raises his head to meet your gaze his eyes are stormy and sad. For someone so young he suddenly looks very, very old. “I been been awful to ‘em, Ghost. Real awful.”

“I know.”

“Arthur is more father to that boy than I ever been.”

“Maybe.” 

He puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head, eyes narrowed. “Ain’t you chatty.”

You shake your head. “It ain’t my place, but I guess I’m trying to say there’s still time. Jack is young. You been a sorry father so far but you haven’t tried to be any better, either.”

“So it’s as easy as trying?”

“It could be.” 

He’s always been too stubborn for his own good so you leave it at that, standing on the edge of the celebration while everyone you know sings and laughs and makes merry. Jack sits in the dirt drawing nonsense with sticks while Abigail and Arthur stand watchfully over him. John keeps glancing over thoughtfully, mulling over your words and his feelings. 

John steps away to grab drinks and you watch Hosea across the campfire, eyes shining with tears and relief as he laughs through the lyrics of whatever next song Javier has started to play. Ángel de amor, tu pasión no la comprendo… Si la comprendo, no la puedo expresar… The sound is family. Home. It makes you think that sometimes things do work out nice for people like you, even if it’s just for a moment.

This moment - molten campfire glow, nighttime chorus, stumble-drunk steps - paid for in blood and gold. Hearing Jack’s laugh, seeing Hosea’s eyes shine, watching John whisper fatherhood promises to Abigail, you think it was worth the cost. 

[sednonamoris]

Do y'all ever read a fic so good that it makes you want to elevate your own craft and also befriend the writer? It's almost like, "Hi! You write so well that you've inspired me to embark on a creative training arc. Also, can I yell about the character in your dms because you get it?"