#bits and pieces from fics

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

pony whose wardrobe is 99% his brothers hand me downs u are so important to me

[tinyetoile]

I drew this for a timeline thing for my original zelda story but TBH that's coming along pretty slowly and this is funny enough to post on its own.

[birchbow]

i really like everything you've done with the concept of troll gender in pof, but i was wondering if you've given thought to why/how they developed the concept of gender as a not really sexually dimorphic species? and who exactly assigns them genders as wrigglers? like are they getting the concept from the lusii? also i was wondering how they can tell each other's genders without asking directly. i know the clowns indicate that with their paint usually, but what about everyone else? i would love to hear any thoughts you have about this!

Okay so. This is only somewhat represented in the actual fic, mostly because I started writing it more than a decade ago when I was a little weenie with no gender imagination, but the grand scope of the xeno loadout I'm contemplating is thus:

in the same way that Lord of the Rings was theoretically a localized+translated legend from another language. PoF is a translation of a troll society that is in some ways localized by its translator (me lol).

THIS IS TO SAY: gender isn't gender. Pronouns are a self-declaration of "the role I take in my use to the Great Hive of The Empire". Trolls we translate as "male" and "female" are just roles of Use To The Hive that a human translator maps to "he" and "she".

If the mother grub, the drones and the trolls are all the same species, I find it delightful to imagine that insofar as trolls have a physical sex, it's BEING "trolls"; "troll"="the farmed ones/caretakers/(trollspecies) servant class" who provide and care for the mother grub.

Some of said class focus more into social violence not intended to kill+loud and posturing to drive away enemies+big emotions for Care About Hive. Because humans are, to quote troll xenonecroscholars, "obsessed with assigning mammal genital configurations to things", humans have dictated these trolls are "men". Some trolls focus more energy into stronger psionics+no patience for posturing/straight for the kill+hone and reinforce the inner strata of the hive. Humans refer to these individuals as "women".

I'll be shorthanding these roles as "masc" and "femme" because I use way too many words already, but just know that's an oversimplification haha.

FIG 1: Karkat by this standard? Very masc, but his insistence that he wants to be the leader/in charge is idiosyncratically femme of him. *cishet bioessentialism voice* Football player repeatedly goes out for ballet.

FIG 2: let's be clear Karkat telling Tavros to "stop playing games for girls" after he got jumped off a cliff was Karkat/Homestuck being classic 2010s shitty. But it doubles in this as "you decided to play with the Scourge Sisters (Deadly High Femme), you moron, you're lucky you're not dead".

how people figure out which one they initially go by... tbh it seems like schooling is pretty much via computers. I feel like you could easily just get like. A module on reproduction, and then a module that's essentially a fucking. quizilla quiz. Assigned pronouns at government-required school module.

Recent chapters have started making characters 'they/them' until the POV character gets a hint what their preference is--in this theoretical setup there would be quite a lot of sussing it out. "Gender presentation" would be a loose constellation of traits with a lot less certainty! The webcomic was not made with this in mind but I do find it fun to willfully reframe the pretty generically human-gendered characters we get.

FOR EXAMPLE!! Long/big hair as a peacocking flair/brag, often by old or powerful classes, or people who are powerful enough psionics they don't have to give a shit about a very grabbable liability in a fight. Trolls whose vocational pronouns translate as "female" often specialize in straightforward impersonal murder and social engineering more than brawling, so longer hair wouldn't be a liability and therefore is correlated, but only loosely.

Feferi has long hair, but so does the Grand Highblood. Equius (reads quite masc to humans) has long hair (nobility fle%), but Kanaya (the most overtly human femme) does not (practical middle-class brawler)! I don't think that's on purpose but I AM taking advantage of it lol.

'They/them' is the equivalent of the "joker" title I made up already for Clown Church--somebody with multiple skillsets, mixed roles, or fields of influence. My gender is undeclared college major. My gender is Jack Of All Trades.

Verato's transness isn't really about his switch from one gender to another--it's more because he plays a "femme" role in society but uses the "masc" pronoun for himself. His self-consciousness about it is more similar to a nonbinary or bisexual human who's used to being told to "pick one" and being told which one they "seem like" or "should be".

Meanwhile the Behemoth's 'it/its' in English stands out as a pronoun usually used for objects, but in Alternian it would be the pronoun trolls use to refer to DRONES. "(Trollspecies) made for thoughtless violence/enforcer/culls the weak". Chilling!!

I would have to go through and edit huge chunks of the fic to drag all half a million words into line with fun xeno shit alongside the clown church worldbuilding I already got in there, but damn if the concept isn't tempting some days.

[owl-bones]

if i had more time/energy/motivation i would write a fic that's UT Sans/Reader and seemingly very normal and slice of life

but you notice tiny little quirks and oddities around Sans and it's slowly revealed that it's actually Dust and he's taken this Sans' place to get close to you

[sclki-op]

[osteochondraldefect]

I can't help it I keep coming back to you.

[godsfavoritescientist]

An as-of-yet unnamed AU where instead of being Ford's muse, Bill appears to Fiddleford and convinces him to build the portal.

The conversation in the last 2 images continues under the cut:

Fiddleford relaxed all at once, giving Ford a too-wide smile. Then, he opened his eyes one eyelid at a time. “You’ve been a real good friend! And I have a lot of friends, so that’s saying something!” He let out a short laugh. “You wanna know what I’m working on? It’s something that’s gonna usher in an era of world peace! You might not believe it, but no one else would believe you if you told them you’ve just uncovered an ancient alien crash site, would they now? So be a pal and suspend your disbelief!”

Ford felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. There was something… something he couldn’t put his finger on… something that flashed in the corner of his eye…

Ford swallowed. “Okay. It’s religious project. But what is it?”

Fiddleford threw a casual arm around Ford. “I think it’ll be easier if I show you!”

~

They walked down a corridor lined wall to wall, floor to ceiling with computers running endless calculations. They bathed the whole room in flickering green light, as words scrolled rapidly across screen after screen after screen, their glowing surfaces reflecting in Fiddleford’s glasses as he walked ahead of Ford, with a confidently uncoordinated stride that made Ford wonder if he was drunk. Ford glanced at the screens, catching bits and pieces of words as Fiddleford rushed by in the black-and-green light. “Probability of Event 4.23A, Probability of Event 23.652C, Probability of Event 1.9C…” dozens of numbers that looked like coordinates… thousands of statistical probability equations being run over and over again…

Fiddleford punched in a seven-digit code on the front of a huge metal door at the end of the corridor. When he swung it open, it revealed a room that looked like something out of a movie, or a nightmare. He stood before a sea of gigantic red raising platforms that Fiddleford effortlessly jumped around on, inputting some kind of code based on the symbols on the squares, until the moving platforms went still.

They moved on into a simple, warmly-lit room with coat racks full of red robes lining the walls, and foam mats stacked in the corner with eyes embroidered on them.

And then, at last, they entered what appeared to be their destination. This room was gigantic, and frigidly cold. The walls and floors were all made of metal. And at the center of the room, a machine towered over them. It was part metal and part unfinished scaffolding. A huge upside-down triangle with a hole in the middle of it, like a great big maw.

Fiddleford gestured at it with a grin. “My magnum opus! A portal directly to god.”

[goodfellowe]

Everything inside of her being felt off in a way that she couldn’t exactly pinpoint, her head pounding in that same rhythmic motion as she blinked her heavy eyelids open. It was as if she’d stepped out of her body and hadn’t managed to fit all the way back in, leaving the entirety of her being to stand at an angle. Her memories were there, but the world they'd all happened in... wasn't. Something else had clearly taken its place, so where was she? When was she?

Jamais Vu (AO3)

Chapter 2: Home

Mu wakes up in Mafia Town— but it’s not Mafia Town anymore.

Art by @mebssann.

[nayeliq1]

And Ed had it all planned out, too.

The way Stede would smile when he saw him waiting on the dock, how his lips would feel when they'd kiss before getting into the dinghy that would take them away, just the two of them, a whole future Ed had pictured for them-

A whole future that had been torn to shreds a few hours of pointless waiting later, washed away in the colours of the oncoming dawn.

A whole life turning to dust under the first rays of that rising sun.

[meguwumibear]

Can you write an nsfw for Togame coaching his s/o on giving him head for the first time?

"Atta girl. Just like that," Togame moans, carding his fingers gently through your hair. "Yeah, use your tongue for me. Get it nice and wet."

You do as you're told, sticking out your tongue to slowly lick down the underside of his veiny cock. Togame's legs shake at the sensation, already overwhelmed despite the fact you've only just gotten your mouth on him.

"Balls too," he instructs, mindful of his grip on you. It's meant to be coaching, coaxing, not punishing.

He holds his cock upright while you lave along his sack, taking his left nut into your mouth without another word from him. You experimentally swirl the ball around in your mouth, and he groans in encouragement. It might be your first time sucking dick, but damn you're a fucking natural.

"That's it, sweetheart," he coos, languidly stroking himself as you graduate from his left nut to the right, giving the appendage the same treatment as its counterpart. "Fuck, you're so good to me."

Emboldened by his words, you sink lower, licking a firm stripe down his taint, groaning against him as you savor the taste of his musk. Your nose rubs deliciously against his sack as you suck on his taint, and Togame has to squeeze the base of his cock to prevent himself from busting on the spot like some two pump chump.

"C'mere," he pants, tugging you away from his taint back towards his leaking tip. "Need you to wrap those pretty little lips of yours around my cock again, yeah? Hollow your cheeks as you suck it for me. Atta girl, fuck."

It takes every ounce of his willpower not to buck into your warm, wet mouth as you resume your suckling. His dick is a lot for your untrained throat to handle. You won't be able to take all of him tonight which is a shame because the image of your precious tear stained face pressed against his dark pubic hair nearly sends him spiraling over the edge again. He takes a few deep breaths to steady himself. In and out. In and out.

"Use your hand to fist what you can't fit in your mouth," the words are meant to sound instructional but come out like a plea instead.

It takes a few tries for you to find your rhythm, to pump his cock in time with your sucking, but once you do it's over for Togame. He feels the tell-tale signs of his orgasm encroaching on him, one shiver and shudder at a time.

"Baby," he warns, pulling at your hair, "I'm gonna-"

You push yourself even further down his length, choking around his cock as he cums violently down your throat. His cum is sticky and thick but not unpleasant. There's a salty aftertaste that he licks out of your mouth with deep sloppy kisses.

"Alright," he slurs into your mouth as his fingers travel down the length of your navel. "Your turn."

[thegingerwrites]

Wip snippet

suddenly a sith wip

“Is there something I can help you with, General?” asks a Clone mech, Loose Screw.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “Not at all, soldier. I’m just admiring the view.”

Anakin can feel his face flush even buried in the guts of the starfighter. There’s not even much of a view, just his legs sticking out from beneath the ship but this Obi-Wan needs to fluster him.

“If you can pardon my saying so, sir, is there any truth rumor that you aren’t feeling well? I only wonder if its safe for you to be up there like that. I would tell off any of my techs that I caught up there.”

“I feel fine, darling, rest assured. Besides, I have Anakin to catch me if I fall.”

Anakin hits his head on the compressor valve and curses under his breath.

“I’ve never had much interest in mechanics,” Obi-Wan muses. “But I’ve always wondered, is a certain level of mess necessary to getting any work done? The spare parts, the sweat, the grease. I can only speak to what I’ve seen, of course, but your men seem to keep a much tidier workshop than other mechanics I could mention.”

With his confusion and nerves feeding off of each other in a loop, Loose Screw begins talking about standard safety procedures on Republic vessels and how he goes about implementing regulation. Obi-Wan hums and nods along in all the right places but when Anakin finally emerges from beneath the starship—without hitting his head this time and yes, sweaty and greasy and shirtless, because his robes were just going to get caught anyway and surely risking a few burns is safer than being caught in the machinery—by the time he manages all of that, Obi-Wan is watching him.

“Did you finish, dear one?”

Anakin is going to bite through his tongue before they manage to fix Obi-Wan.

“All done, let’s go.”

“Certainly.” Obi-Wan leaps down from the starship with easy grace, landing at Anakin’s side with hardly a sound. “Shall we get you cleaned up? Loose Screw says that <i>this</i>—” The tips of Obi-Wan’s fingers graze the swell of Anakin’s chest, light but enough to make him shiver. “—is a safety hazard, by the way, but he’s hardly going to criticize a master mechanic like you.”

“I appreciate Loose Screw’s diligence in keeping his mouth shut.”

[grapenehifics]

WIP Wednesday

I don't mind admitting I've struggled* with this chapter (like the fact that I haven't updated this fic for eight months and counting isn't enough of a clue) but I am making PROGRESS and I am PROUD OF IT and so here is - once again - a little snippet to tide you/me over.

“I spent some time last night going over our options, and I’ve come up with a plan,” Anakin started, once they’d finished both eating and cleaning up from breakfast and waited for Owen and Beru to start their chores, and also waylaid Obi-Wan from trying to join them to help with the chores. Anakin had accomplished this by telling him it was ‘an urgent strategy planning meeting’.

(Anakin would make it up to him later, he told himself. They’d left the war so that Obi-Wan would never have to sit through an unwanted strategy planning meeting ever again, and here Anakin was, scheduling yet another. But once they were off this rock they’d be done. Anakin would get him a little house with a garden out back, maybe, and Obi-Wan could play in the dirt and conduct experiments on ground worms to his heart’s content while Anakin tinkered with cleaning droids or any other damn mechanical part he could dream up. At least until one or both of them got bored.)

Ahsoka quirked an eyebrow, or the spot where she would have had an eyebrow if not for the fact that Togruta don’t have eyebrows, which had to be an expression she’d picked up from all the humans she hung out with. “When? We were supposed to all be asleep last night.”

Anakin waved his hand, glossing over the fact that he’d done this and then gone to sleep, but only for two or three hours. “Doesn’t matter. Do you want to hear my plan or not?”

*'struggled' past tense makes it sound like the struggle is not ongoing. Have struggled, am struggling, will continue to struggle. But we persevere!

[mollymarymarie]

i don’t have an ao3 account but your recent jjk fic is so stunning and beautiful. the longing and desire that just bleeds throughout the fic because of suguru’s inability to touch another human being. it’s such a cool and creative concept. you can explore so much with that. and you did! you did. thank you for sharing, i’m very excited for the end

OMG thanks friend!! I'm so glad you like it! 😍😍

[wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart]

Bits and pieces.

A small snippet from an old work.

***

Anakin could feel Obi-Wan watching him, his gaze almost felt like a physical touch, and it made large Tatooinen cave moths flutter in his stomach. His crush on his Master, that had started when he was around fifteen, had not lessened. He loved and desired his Master deeply, but knew it was an impossible dream. Still he would cherish all the close intimate moments he could get.

Straining not to let his emotions slip past his shields, he said teasingly, "Are you going to just stand there, Master, or join me before the water gets cold?"

At the thought of Obi-Wan joining him in the hot water Anakin had to fight to keep the excitement gathering in his gut from becoming 'visible'.

When Obi-Wan hesitated, Anakin opened his eyes to meet Obi-Wan's gaze, before his Master cleared his throat and looked away.

"Maybe I should just wait until you're done, and meditate in the meantime instead."

Anakin thought it maybe looked like his Master was blushing under the well-trimmed beard.

"Nonsense, Master. Why? We've been bathing together for years. Come on." He said quickly, struggling to sound teasing and not pleading.

He sat up a little and looked at Obi-Wan with wide blue eyes. He knew Obi-Wan had never been good at saying no to him when he gave him that look, and wasn't above using it to his advantage.

Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment longer, but then shook his head. "If you're sure?"

Anakin rolled his eyes. Sometimes Obi-Wan could be hopelessly polite.

"Yes Master, I am sure, come on."

[thejoobiestnerd]

"Exactly! You're so good, too. You were playing a sea shanty? That's my favorite type of music!" "Ah, you appreciate the classics. Very appropriate for the setting! Do let me know your favorite and I'll add them to the repertoire."

Usopp and Brook chilling, inspired by the scene from The Seer by @thegreatcaptainusopp where Brook and Usopp get to chat about music a little!

I'd highly recommend the fic if you want some good Usopp angst and a great story!

[paskuda-lynx]

Fanart cover for Perseverance fic series by GreenBean

The ship was here for a long while already, held by ice that it was unable to break - nor with fully powered engine nor with its trebuchets, by now undoubtedly frozen over.

But the light signal refused to go out.

It was always there, persisting no matter the weather - sometimes flickering, but not once turning off fully...

Young waxing moon watched its glow with passive patience, while waiting for spring to flow into late summer. Something will change then. But not yet.