#technically this is meant to be posted Friday but. i wanted to :)

[juniperhillpatient]

new chapter of 'the devil you know' :)

this time -

Azula & Katara tell their friends about the return of Ghostface, & begin a dangerous investigation leading to questions about who can be trusted.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Field Mouse

It's nearly dinner time by the time he gets back from the Seam. Coriolanus walked her back to the house but he wasn't invited inside. "Next time," she'd told him, lingering in the doorway, "when my family isn't home."

He hadn't quite known how she meant that. Did her family not like Peacekeepers so she felt it was best to keep them apart? Or did she want the house to herself to do...other things? 

He was hoping for the second option. 

Smiley hopped out of the bunk the second Coriolanus walked in, "How'd it go?" Coriolanus shrugged, not wanting to give out too much information, "It went fine. I didn't know the Seam was that bad." 

His bunkmate chuckled, "Poor people in District Twelve are the poorest people in all of Panem, at least you found a pretty one."

Coriolanus hadn't thought of it that way, how Twelve was technically the bottom of the barrel when it came to the Districts, ranking all District Twelve citizens at the very bottom. Below the bottom if he was being honest. In the dirt sounded better.

He sat down on his bunk and mulled over it even more. What would his friends say if they saw him running around with some poor girl with tattered clothes and a sagging house? He'd be the laughingstock of the Capitol for sure. He'd have to keep this under wraps. He couldn't afford any loose ends if he left for the Capitol. When he left for the Capitol was more like it. He was getting out of here, one way or another. 

"They're having an officers test tomorrow if you're interested," Smiley says, pulling Coriolanus from his thoughts, "gotta be Capitol to qualify so I figured you'd be interested."

Becoming an officer meant higher rankings, it meant actual pay, a salary, and possibly being relocated to a higher-ranking District, closer to the Capitol.

It was all lining up for him. He had everything he could need right now. The girl, the job, the hope. 

"I am interested. Thanks, Smiley," he says before grabbing his towel, he ought to shower before lights out, wash all the sweat off of him. 

He could smell the whole day on him as he scrubbed himself down under the shower water, it was mostly sweat and dirt. But a hint of vanilla lingered. He'd see her again at the Hob on Friday, maybe steal a few kisses and slip his hand under her dress. 

Coriolanus fell asleep with a content smile on his lips. It was all lining up for him. Finally.

꧁ ꧂

The results from the officer's test still weren't posted. Granted it had only been two days but still! Coriolanus had been one of two people to take it and the other guy walked out halfway through it. Needless to say, he was a shoo-in. If not for his impressive skills both physically and academically, then it was by default. And he was okay with that. 

Still, it bothered him. Bothered him to the point where he'd asked Commander Hoff about it. He told Coriolanus that the test was reviewed in the Capitol so it would take about a week to get the results back. A whole week to find out if he passed even though he knows he passed. Ugh. 

He didn't let it sour his mood as he walked into the Hob though. It was Friday night and he planned on having a good time. Music was already playing and people already dancing. He scanned the crowd for Soarynn's blonde head of hair and found her dancing with her cousin Jett. Even though they were family, Coriolanus couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. She should be dancing with him. 

He pushed through the crowd towards her, leaving his friends behind as he went to claim what was rightfully his. Jett saw him before Soarynn did and he leaned down to whisper something in her ear before disappearing into the crowd. Soarynn turned around and looked up at Coriolanus, giving him a big smile, "You came!"

Coriolanus smiled back at her, that smile of hers was infectious it seemed. "I did. Hopefully, I didn't scare your cousin off."

Soarynn waved him off, "Jett's been keepin' me company till you got here. He's got his eyes set on some girl from town, keeps hopin' to bump into her but he never does. Too busy workin' I guess." 

Coriolanus couldn't help but wonder what Soarynn did for work. She hadn't really specified but she didn't look like she did a lot of hard labor from the looks of it. "You wanna dance?" She asks, taking his hand. Coriolanus looked around, it was mostly miners dancing with their girls, but he wasn't used to this dancing, it was so...District. 

He shook his head, "Let me buy you a drink." He pulled her along with him, leading them to the bar where he wrapped his arm around her, breathing in the scent of vanilla again. It used to be the smell of roses that brought him true comfort, the smell of his mother's silver compact. But that was back at home, so he'd have to settle for vanilla. 

They waited a minute for their drinks and he watched the band on stage put on quite a show. There was a girl, tan skin, dark brown curly hair wearing some ridiculous rainbow dress up there twirling around and singing. She looked over at them, taking in the pair before her eyes found Soarynn's and she playfully wiggled her eyebrows. Soarynn snorted next to him before turning to grab their drinks.

"You know her?" He asks, looking back at the girl who'd already gone back to singing. Soarynn hummed, handing him his drink and taking a sip of hers. "That's Lucy Gray Baird, she lives a couple houses down from us with the Covey." He raised his eyebrows, the Covey?

"Is that some sort of band name?" He asks, casting the band another glance. None of them looked related at all. Soarynn watched them for a moment before responding, "Kind of. They're all cousins one way or another, not all by blood like me and Jett. But they're all related some way or the other. The little one's Maude Ivory, she's got real authority." 

Coriolanus shakes his head and laughs, looking down at Soarynn, "People in District Twelve sure come up with some strange names for their children." Soarynn gave him a small grin and shrugged, "We're strange people, Coriolanus Snow," she drawls. She's got him there, and she knows it. "I could introduce y'all if you'd like," she offers. As fun as that sounds, Coriolanus isn't too keen on meeting this band of musicians. He'd like to hear some other music for a change, like Soarynn's moans. 

He shakes his head, "No thanks. I'd love to go somewhere more quiet though." She gives him a look that lets him know she's on the same page, "There's a shed out back." 

The shed is more of a shack and it's dark, but Coriolanus doesn't complain. Besides, everything more fun in the dark. Soarynn leads them to a desk in the back corner and he wastes no time in wrapping his hand around her waist, capturing her lips in a heated kiss. Soarynn responds just as eagerly if not more and her arms wrap around his neck, tugging him down to meet her height. He smirks at how low she needs him. His girl's on the shorter side, so tiny he could break her in half. 

He picks her up and sits her on the desk, her legs dangling off the edge. her hands go under his shirt, those nails scratching his back lightly, "Take it off," she whispers against his lips, tugging at the fabric. He's never been with a girl this straightforward, who knows exactly what she wants and how to get it. 

He gives in to her request and his hands leave her waist to tug his shirt off, showing her his sculpted abdomen, Soarynn let out a low whistle, "My, my, they sure whipped you into shape, pretty boy." 

Coriolanus rolls his eyes before grabbing her chin with her fingers, "I'd say it's only fair if you take something else off too," he challenges. Soarynn tilts her head and gives him a smile that's all too sweet, "You can take it off," she offers, gesturing to the pink dress she's wearing tonight. It's nothing fancy, old, and worn just like her other blue dress but this one has some embroidered flowers. Doesn't really matter when it's going to be on the floor in a few seconds. 

He's quick to grab the hem of the dress and tug it off of her, baring almost all of her to him. She wearing panties, white and lacy. Her breasts are bare to him as is the rest of her torso and he finally takes all of her in. She's underfed his girl, with her ribs poking out and her waist narrow. She stiffens up when she sees him noticing her rough edges, letting him know that despite how confident she appears, she still has insecurities. 

His hands go to her breasts, the perfect size for his hands and he leans back down to kiss her, rolling her rosy buds in between his fingers. Soarynn lets out a whine and her back slightly arches into him. He wonders how long it's been since she's been touched. "You ever been with anyone before?" He mumbles, pulling away to kiss up and down her jaw. Soarynn shudders when he pinches a little harder, "Does it really matter right now?" So she has. That's fine. He likes a girl with a little experience. He just hopes Soarynn's not a proper whore who's been run through by every miner in District Twelve.

He leans down to her collarbone and sucks hard, leaving a small bruise behind when he pulls away. "Nope," he answers, knowing he's never going to get a straightforward answer from her right now. His left hand lets go of her breasts and slips down to her thighs that are pressed together for obvious reasons but she immediately spreads them when she feels his fingertips.

"I like it hard by the way," she breathes, her own hands tangled in his hair. He has to swallow after hearing that. Any Capitol girl he's been with has only wanted it sweet and slow, but he supposes that he can be rougher with District girls who are far below any Capitol girl. 

So he doesn't even take her panties off, her just tugs them to the side before wiping a finger up and down her cunt, swearing when he feels how wet she is. Her hips buck when he grazes her clit, her hands settling on his shoulders as he slowly parts her folds. He wishes he could see this, see better in the dark, but their options are limited right now and he's not one to complain when he's got a perfectly good and willing cunt right in front of him. 

For a second he wonders if that's how she views him right now. A willing hand, a willing cock. Does she do this with other guys, other Peacekeepers? Just how much honey has this little bee had? 

"Hurry," she whispers, getting him to focus once again. "You're so wet," he murmurs, teasing her entrance with his finger. Soarynn whines, her nails digging into his skin, "For fucks sake hurry up" 

He doesn't like that.

He doesn't even think before he grabs her jaw, squeezing it hard as he forces her to look up at him. "Don't tell me what to do," he snaps, shaking her head for good measure. Her hand is on his wrist in another second and she digs her nails into his skin hard, she probably drew blood. He hisses and pulls away, glaring down at her but she's already glaring up at him, "I'm not one of your Capitol girls you can boss around," she tells him, sitting back on her hands, "if you're not interested there's the door," she juts her head towards the shed door he hastily closed when they got here. 

He swallows, not used to this type of behavior from girls. "Suppose someone found you here," he says, gesturing to her current state, legs spread, cunt bared for him. She gives him a wicked grin, "They'd be welcome to have me." 

She's a hornet. Not a bee. A fucking hornet. 

He's slipping his shirt on before he knows it, not even sparing her another glance before he walks out of that shed, fuming. 

He's moving so fast that he bumps into several people and the sound of instruments falling to the ground makes him cringe. "Sorry," he says, bending down to grab the closest thing he can grab which so happens to be a guitar. "It's all right, no harm done," a girl answers him. He stands back up to find it's Lucy Gray Baird, whom he's bumped into along with the rest of the Covey who's picking up their instruments. 

She recognizes him immediately, "You were with Soarynn," she says like it's an accusation. "You're correct," he answers her. Because he was with Soarynn. As in the past tense. As in he's never going to see that little field mouse again. That mouse that likes to dance with snakes. 

Lucy Gray looks behind him like Soarynn might be hiding behind him, "Well where is she?" The little girl, Maude something or the other pushes her way to the front and looks him up and down, hands on her hips like she means business, “Are y’all together? We saw you beat up Billy Taupe the other day. He had it comin’ though.”

At least these people haven’t lost all their senses. Coriolanus glances back at the shed, no signs of life coming from it, “She’s in there,” he nods in the general direction. Lucy Gray follows his gaze and she raises her eyebrows, “Ah, the shed.” What’s that supposed to mean? Was he really not that special? Was the shed her known place to take her toys?

Coriolanus is on the verge of spiraling when Lucy Gray pulls him from his thoughts, “Well I hope y’all had fun, but too much fun.” Coriolanus wants to tell her that he’s never going to go near her friend again for the rest of his miserable Peacekeeping service but he just nods before heading back to the Hob.

Ready to forget that little field mouse.

| Part 2. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[kitmoas]

Pernicious Prospect

Summary: Playing a little game to seal the fate of your life is only fun when you play it with a spider.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k ish

Warnings: Dark!Natasha, dark fic!!!!!, drugging (nat's serum), intense gun play (Russian Roulette), alcohol (and making bad decisions drunk), slight inspection kink, faux drowning..? kinda?, Nat is mean but also sweet. Toxic Nat. degradation, slight size kink if you squint, lots of names, hostage vibes?, stalking vibes, technically Stockholm syndrome too

*As usual let me know if I missed anything important*

***MINORS DNI*** ***18+***

A/N: This got a lot longer than it was supposed to be lol BUT look i wrote a dark fic without blood :O im just as surprised as you ALSO ignore any mistakes I made in this :) We ALSO dont talk about the hellsite not posting this yesterday :)

Main Master list // Kitmoas | Occult

You weren’t aware of the deep forest eyes watching as you danced with your friends in the club, a few drinks in and no show of stopping anytime soon. The group had no idea when everyone would go home, a Friday night after a huge test meant everyone wanted to party until they couldn’t remember their names.Someone knew when you were going home, had your entire night planned down to how many drinks you would be having. Not once did they let you out of their sight, after months of observation and planning everything was ready. 

The anxiety and stress that you felt the past few weeks was melting out of your brain as you downed more and more shots. Stumbling towards the bar you yell over the music asking for another drink, but the man just shakes his head before walking away. Whipping around to try and find your friends, jumping when you come face to face with the ginger. In your intoxicated state it takes your brain far longer than you would normally would have to recognize who was standing in front of you, but when you finally do your jaw drops. “Oh m’gosh! You’re ‘lack widow!” 

The woman in front of you cringes internally at your slurred speech, cursing herself for letting you drink so much, but she smiles softly at you regardless. “I am, sweetie. Are you okay? You seem far too drunk to be left alone.” You stumble forward just on time, cursing yourself at your clumsiness in front of the Avenger. “Let me accompany you home? I can drive so you don’t have to walk.” She watches as you melt just from her simple words, smug at how quickly you agree. 

You watch with wide delighted eyes as Natasha pays off your entire tab, making sure you pocket your credit card. She also quickly helps clean up any mess that you created, letting each one of your friends know that she would be escorting you home. Tipping not only each bartender, but each bouncer, as she tied up any loose ends that you may be leaving behind. Lastly she even had you use the bathroom before you left, holding your bag as she waited patiently outside the door after checking that you would have the entire bathroom to yourself. 

She easily guides you outside, her strength coming into play each time you stumble or sway too much. You’re talking loudly, asking her what car is hers but she just stays silent; nodding politely at people as you pass them. Basically swooning when she opens your door for you, you giggle as you crumble in the passenger seat of her Stingray. 

It doesn’t take much time for you to be excitedly climbing all over, leaning heavily against the dashboard with your face squished against the windshield. Mumbling out slurred directions, you try your hardest to direct the ginger on where to go to get to your house but unbeknownst to you she had every single route from the bar possible memorized. Playing along with your excitement each time you saw a landmark you recognized, she bathed you in praise and relished in each happy wiggle she got in return. 

Even though she drove at an exceptionally slow pace, an attempt to keep you safe as you clambered around the car, she felt as though the two of you arrived at your apartment all too quickly. Pulling up in front of your building, she makes sure the coast is clear before walking around the car to open your door for you. You stare up at her, admiring her face as the moon and street lights illuminate her.

Stumbling as she drags you out of the car, “C-come inside please just for little yknow.” You tangle your fingers in her flowy shirt, humming in appreciation at the soft fabric. “Please…just at least to help?” You’re unsure of where this clinginess came from, the need to act cool in front of her slowly disappearing at the idea of the widow leaving your life just as quickly as she entered. 

Natasha acts naive, innocent even, as she humbly agrees to make sure you get in bed with water and ibuprofen. Her devious smirk only appears once your focus is on the door, fumbling to unlock it. Her steady hand lands on yours, her warm body pressing against your back. Entirely too buzzed you don’t question how she knows your intricate passcode, instead giddy as you drag her into your home. Spinning to show her everything, slurred rambling as you point things out. 

She nods along, mindlessly listening to random facts about trinkets she already knows about, as she moves around your kitchen. Getting you a Gatorade, not water knowing you won’t drink it, and a snack she sighs as she looks around for your medicine. “Do you think you can find your pain meds by yourself drunkie, or will that be too much for your fuzzy little brain?” Watching you salute, taking your given job extremely seriously, the ginger smirks as she cracks open the capsule from her bracelet into your drink. 

By the time you come back, tripping over your own feet, triumphantly holding a bottle of pills above your head Natasha had already set the food by your bed and gotten you pajamas. Before she can stop you, you’re stripping at the excited idea of wearing something she wants to see you in. “Than’u it’s sooooo comfy!” Flopping onto the bed, you roll around as you look up ar her. She’s watching you, careful eyes, as she waits for you to calm down. 

Reaching out to hold your hand, she pulls you into a sitting position gently. A smile on her face as she brings the tray of food and drinks over, “Do me a favor, dove, just get a little bit of something in your stomach? For me?” 

The way she’s looking at you will forever be engraved in your mind, something you would never be able to deny. You can’t even attempt to fight her, gobbling up the pretzel sticks and downing the gatorade greedily. You preen under her attention, wiggling at the small achievement of earning her momentary praise. Quieting down as you settle in bed, head nestled in the pillows as your attention turns to the quiet television show she turned on. 

You’re blissfully unaware of how she watches you, sharp eyes waiting for a flash of cherry red haze. It only takes a few moments, blinking as if you have something in your eyes before you have an urge to be near her. Natasha is sitting at the edge of the bed, a normally respectable distance but you need her closer and that is starting to scare you. 

It doesn't take long for the widow to realize you’re squirming, a distressed look on your face, and she knows that you truly are the perfect little experiment for her own serum. Her rough calloused hand slips across your jaw, turning your head back and forth before it closes around your throat. Inspection of you doesn’t take long, your mind clearing from its initial hit of serum all too quickly for Natasha. 

Once your eyes do clear, and you’re able to ignore the way your pussy throbs and your muscles shake, the widow can see the anger rising. She watches the way your body tenses, and she knows your fight or flight is kicking in. Even though she’s expecting it, the way you flail about surprises her. Your fist only an inch or two away from her face, you keep trying to strike her but it’s almost as though she’s inside an invisible box. Hitting the unseen wall over and over again, you stare in shock at your own hand. 

You try pulling it back, gently pushing your palm forward but you are able to cup her cheek. Stuttering, you want to ask what is going on but the words are lost in your throat. Gasping you try to breathe as you can feel the panic filling your body, something was weird and you knew that it had to be some sort of Avenger science or maybe something from Russia. This was all too much and your favorite hero was suddenly turning into a dark shadow that would loom over you for the rest of your life. 

Before you can even try to escape, still on your back, as an electroshock travels through your body radiating from the small red electric disk now stuck on your body. Paralyzing, you can feel the energy swarming through your body and the scream that rips from your throat is shrill. She’s moving your body, manipulating it as she wants and for some unknown reason you just let her. 

Spread out on the bed, you try your hardest to figure out a way to escape. This was your room, your home, and you still felt trapped. You’re unsure of what she did to you but you feel sluggish and it’s almost like you can’t move as she walks away. The widow is only gone momentarily but the moment she settles back on the bed, your heart beat seemingly settles down. 

Natasha reaches for you, rough hands running up your thighs as she watches your abs tense from her touch. “You know, you were so cute and just so excited to put on the clothes I wanted.” She pulls at the flimsy crop top and skin tight booty shorts, chuckling at just how naive you are. “It was so easy to get you right where I want you, it’s almost pathetic. Almost too easy.” Her hands are ghosting between your legs, running her nails along the most sensitive parts of your lower body. 

The tearing of your shorts doesn’t surprise you, your brain working overtime to attempt to be one step ahead of what was happening. If you could come to terms with it, maybe you could find the strength to fight it. You curse your body for reacting to the way she touches you, knowing that your crush on her doesn’t help, when her fingers touch your uncovered pussy. She can see the wetness shining in the dim lighting, and she uses her thumb to smear the slick. “If you really wanted me to stop, don’t you think you would be just a little less wet?” 

Her hands are everywhere, pulling at your nipples and scratching down your torso. You want to keep your eyes open to try and stay alert but you can’t help when they slip closed. It shouldn’t come as much of a surprise when you feel your fingers probing you, poking and pulling you open. She’s inspecting you again, silently. It shouldn’t make an intense wave of arousal hit you, but you know she sees the wetness gush out of you as she opens you up. 

The ginger makes an appreciative noise, deep in her throat before she begins to push 2 fingers into you. She grunts when she meets resistance, you're wet but still tight. Ignoring the way you squirm away, trying to kick and claw at her hand, Natasha just moves her fingers faster. Occasionally letting her thumb rub at your clit, hard and throbbing. It isn’t long until she notices the changes. 

No matter how hard you want to say you hate the way her long rough fingers move inside you, you can’t deny how close you are. It’s embarrassing but after months, almost years, of crushing on the infamous Black Widow how could you not react so easily to her. You had yearned for someone to treat you roughly, to take you and use your body as they pleased, but you never had found someone that wasn’t too scared to do it. 

Even as you realized each step she was going to make, you weren’t finding the strength to truly fight it. If anything you were finding ways to excuse her, to let yourself fall into her web. Your body was already cracking under the pressure, arousal leaking down your thighs and into the sheets below you. It was only a matter of time before your brain fully caught up, you knew that you didn’t have the mental strength to go up against someone so highly trained like the Black Widow.  

Your body was getting used to the force that Natasha was shoving her fingers into you, creeping towards the edge. The way your body’s temperature rose slowly signified the steady build of your orgasm. Reduced to just quiet pants and moans, you wanted to beg the widow to move faster–to take what she wanted. 

Unbeknownst to you, you never had to ask or tell the ginger to take what she wanted from you. You were naive and innocent to what she had infected your body with. From this moment on you would be hers, to do whatever she could imagine doing to you. She was being generous by stretching your body, stretching her pussy. 

Ownership was something the Russian always struggled with, after years of never truly having something of her own, but when she saw you she knew that no one else would ever touch you. Months of planning and creating the perfect serum, all so that you would be laid out underneath her. All so that she could finally own something all by herself, her favorite thing–you. 

Your moans and the warmth in your stomach were driving you crazy, it felt like she wouldn’t just shove you over the edge. Straddling the line between ecstasy and torture, you let your mouth fall open. Jaw cracking as you mewl, begging to be touched with more purpose. 

Through hooded eyes you see your jade counterpart’s roll, an annoyed grunt breaking through barred teeth. “Such a needy little thing even after fighting me. Have you learned your lesson yet?” Her question goes unanswered when she pulls her fingers out, tucking the last two in. She’s enchanted as she watches your leaking red pussy open up, stretching to take four of her digits. 

It isn’t gentle, and she’s shoving them inside you, but it’s enough to make you topple over the edge. Your back arching, and a scream tearing through your throat. It isn’t exactly the most pleasurable orgasm, entirely too mixed with intense waves of pain. It’s short lived, the widow yanking her fingers out of you and leaving you clenching around nothing. Your slick dribbling slowly out of you and coating your thighs even more. She leaves you a sticky mess as she stands, wiping the wetness from her hand on your heaving stomach. 

As you’re still trying to recover, Natasha starts moving you. Chastising you when you begin to whine, pulling and pushing you so you’re on your knees. Her touch is almost gentle as she guides you into the position she wants. Your face is pushed into the bed, drool soaking the fabric as you try to breathe. Something settles along your torso, possibly her own body, but you’re overstimulated and your senses can’t make sense of anything.  

You hear metal clanking rapidly, almost high pitched, and it makes your blood run cold. Ragged breathing as you try to bring air to your lungs with your face is pushed into the warm damp sheets. The pressure between your shoulder blades and along your hips keeps in place, even as your muscles twitch as the anxiety builds. The sound was familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it. 

A cool heavy steel trails along your ribs, tapping teasingly against each bone. “You wanna play a game, malysh?” She mocks you, seemingly giving you a choice. Her hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head up. The shiny revolver obstructs your blurry vision as you gulp down as much oxygen as possible, as quickly as possible. “You know where I come from, don’t you красивая девушка?” 

The stickiness of her bright wine colored lipstick pulls at the thin skin along your ear, leaving remencance of the stain. You can feel the exhaustion in your bones, the ginger’s actions of the night catching up already. Nodding, you can’t even bring yourself to say anything. She’s humming, prompting you. “I-I know a lot ab-bout you.” Voice hoarse, stuttering and falling over syllables, you try your hardest to listen to her. 

She laughs, it’s silent but shakes her chest as she leans heavily against you. Tapping the barrel of the gun against your cheek, “Right my precious little fan. You know all about me. Well don’t worry darling, all that precious information stored in your brain will come in handy.” The widow shoves you forward, pulling and pushing your body as she flips you onto you back. 

Natasha settles comfortably between your legs, swinging the fun around her pointer finger as she coos over you. She sits back and observes you, head tilting as you squirm below her. Running your thumb along your dripping slit, she can’t help but admire the string of wetness that catches and dangles as she pulls away. 

You try to shake your head, no matter her experience you didn’t want to shamelessly gamble your life for a night with the spy. She just giggles, like a schoolgirl. “All you have to do is tell me what you know about me, lyubov'. That’s all. I know that pretty little head is filled with who I am and all the little facts you know about me, so this should be simple. Say a fact and you’re safe, and get played with. Say something false, and I pull the trigger. Who knows though, maybe you’ll enjoy that too.” She looks so innocent as she talks down to you, but you can’t focus on her tone right now. 

Chest heaving, you watch her with wide eyes as the previously forgotten fear reignites as the older woman precariously plays with the gun. A sadistic grin stretches her face, pulling her cheeks just a bit too much. “Dontcha wanna play with me, detka?” Tapping the bottom of the grip on your lower belly, Natasha smirks. Your head is shaking vigorously, pathetic whimpers tumbling from your mouth. Your fist swings out again, a pitiful attempt at hitting the ginger one last time. Struggling as your hand hits that invisible wall again, she just slowly lowers it down to the bed. “Too bad you don’t have a choice.” 

Her calloused thumb swipes at your throbbing clit, smiling as your hips jump trying to chase after the spark of pleasure. She shushes you, smoothing her hand across your lower belly. Her gaze flickers up to watch your reactions, jade peaking through lashes as she taps the muzzle against your puffy red cunt. Natasha makes a noise, your only chance at a warning before she’s shoving the barrel of her gun into you. Watching you stretch, raw and red, around the cold smooth metal she has to bite her lip to suppress her own reactions. 

The moan that tumbles from your lips is involuntary, and the sounds only get worse as she forcibly ruts her beloved weapon into you. “First fact, princess.” When you just wither beneath her, too focused on your own arousal, she cocks the gun. The click ringing out, a stark contrast to your mewls. “Don’t keep me waiting, dove. It’s rude and my patience wears thin.” 

You stutter through the first couple facts, all things the public knows of. The most common facts that cannot be disputable; her alias, her training and community upbringing, and her status within the government as an Avenger. It wasn’t until she rubs your clit, dragging the wetness across your skin, that your mind swirls again. Broken gasps you mumble out, “You killed the overseer of the Red Room”.  

The ginger laughs, a short gleeful thing, as she shakes her head. “Poor baby, your head is already so foggy and the game has just begun.” You hear the menacing sound of the gun click, stalling, as she pulls the trigger for the first time. Even as the fear rings through your skull, sinking into your bones, you can’t help but the wetness that drips out of you and the way you clench around the slowly warming steel. A breathy please falls from your lips, and you aren’t exactly sure what you’re pleading for. 

A second wrong fact tumbles from your lips, jumbled and almost incomprehensible, as you beg the widow for mercy. Nothing you say deters her, even as you correct your previous statement. You knew that she didn’t go to kill Tony, just to see if he was dying but in your haze you said the wrong thing. Apologies and sobs wracking your body as you try to take back your mistake, but she’s pulling the trigger before you can stop her. Your hands are gripping your wrist but your fingers won’t move no matter how much you try to claw at her skin, a measly attempt to pry her away from you. 

Natasha shoves the barrel roughly into you, a piercing pain shoots through your body as she mumbles for you to continue. Her eyes trained at your body, it’s almost like this is mindless for her not even breaking a sweat. It’s almost like she’s angry at the fact that the bullet and chamber have yet to align. “You w-wear the arr-ow for Cl-lint.” Stuttered though true, your fact makes her chuckle. The green eyed woman just thrusts into you harder, dragging you closer to the edge. 

Through hooded eyes you watch her, eyes flickering back and forth between the way her bicep tenses and how the vein in her neck pulses. Distracted you stutter on your next fact, “Y-y um dance um ta–”. Even though you never finish your sentence, the sight of the gun rubbing against the most sensitive part inside of you, the assassin knows you were going to mess up. The longer she’s moving inside you, the harder you find talking and thinking. It terrifies you how much you like the feeling of the steel inside you, how you drip around the cylinder. 

The coil in your stomach cracks when you hear the widow cock the gun, body twitching when she pulls the trigger again. She has you dangling over the edge, almost like you were on a string. Dragging her nails down your thigh, leaving bright red streaks and a burning sensation. Her actions are almost teasing, toying with you as you squirm and moan under her. 

Natasha’s voice is soft, almost comforting, as she stares down at you. Her eyes almost soft, nurturing, as she fucks her gun into your sore cunt. “Such a desperate little whore, I can barely move my gun from how tight you are.” Reaching up to cup your breast, she pinches your hardened nipple ruthlessly. Tugging at it until your back arches, trying to relieve some of the pain. 

It’s a spreading warmth, stinging, as the redness explodes across the goosebump covered swell. Your brain can’t keep up, swirls of pain and arousal clouding all your thoughts. “Give me another one, now.” Hissing, her voice strikes in your bones. A shiver running down your spine as you try to keep your orgasm at bay. A small part of you still wanted to be defiant, to try and fight in the only way you can. You knew you couldn’t physically do anything to hurt her, but you could take hits at her ego. 

The longer you delay the inevitable, whimpers and whines filling the air as you focus solely on the pleasure, the angrier the ginger gets. She’s jamming the gun harder into you, her muscles flexing with each push. Forcing your breath and your heart beat to stutter, jumping along with the force of her ruts. “Play my game, you worthless whore. Play or I’ll play without you.” Wrapping her hand around your throat, she hovers over you. 

Her weight is almost completely on your neck as she looks down at you. You babble panickedly, wheezing as you try to fight for your life. Unsure of the words you even say, you thrash violently at the clicking of the gun. Legs flailing, kicking helplessly at air, as your body goes into full fight or flight mode. Throat raw as you scream, the shrill sound cut short as Natasha slams you down. 

“No matter how much you fight, princess, you can’t deny the way you're teetering. Barely clinging to the edge. You’re not going to last much longer, so why must you fight me?” Clenching, each word she speaks to you wears the rope you’re hanging from thin and dropping you farther and farther over the edge. She pulls the trigger again, pulling the hammer down immediately to pull the trigger once more. “Looks like you only have one more chance, little dove.” 

Your entire body is shaking, and you can barely understand a word she says. The overwhelming weight of the barrel inside of you is the only thing you can focus on, the pull of the smooth metal as it thrusts. It’s no longer cool, your temperature heating it up. Whining you try to get her to understand your frustration, the way she’s clouding your judgment and stripping you of your ability to coherently speak. 

It doesn’t matter anymore as the rope falls apart and you slip over the edge. She struggles to keep the barrel inside of you, the force of your orgasm not only shaking your entire body but the gush of wetness escaping you is even stronger. The way she moves doesn’t slow, if anything she puts her entire body into how she jams the firearm into you. Her fingers grip your jaw, clawing until your mouth falls open. Your moans are garbled, drool and spit filling your mouth unable to escape except for a few drops leaking down your flushed cheek. 

The ginger pulls the gun from your leaking cunt, pulling your body to let your center lay flush against her thigh. Your hips are grinding before she can even demand you to move, chasing the high that you’re on. Natasha leans back, rolling her eyes as she watches you hump her leg. “You’re fucking disgusting.” Wiping her gun along your torso, your slick is cool against your heated skin. You’re entirely too lost in your pleasure, heavy eyes blurry as they try to watch the woman above you. 

It’s the exact moment that your body finally settles, muscles gently vibrating with the aftershocks of your waning orgasm, that you see the widow’s arms move quickly. Cocking the gun you can see up the sight just for a moment, before she pulls the trigger. The bullet is loud as it pierces the mattress next to your head, fluff and fabric exploding. It makes the blood in your veins run cold and the high you were on plummet back down to Earth. 

Fuzzy brain, clearing slowly, you stare wide eyed up at Natasha. “Y-You were actually going to shoot me?” You can’t stop stuttering, gasping, as you realize how close to death you truly were. The shaking is back with a vengeance, almost like your entire body is plugged in. This entire time you believed that it was all just a game, a thing for the Avenger to scare you with so that you would be more open to having sex with her. 

The Avenger smiles, cupping your cheek and smoothing her thumb over the flush she finds there. She licks the cooling metal, humming at the taste she finds there before letting the gun fall heavy on the sheets. “And yet, my darling, your body is still shaking and aching for my touch.” When your hips try to move against her body, she shakes head. “Nuh uh, you’re done for the day. I can’t push you too much.” She’s shifting to sit next to your collapsed body, ignoring the pathetic whimpering falling uncontrollably from your mouth. 

You are struggling to breathe properly, heavy pants filling the air as the two of you sit silently on the bed. She’s gently pushing your matted hair away from your sweaty forehead, and wiping away the stream of tears you weren’t even aware you were crying. Natasha lets all the emotions that you are feeling to be let out, the entire thing overwhelming you but she doesn’t want you to completely shut down after just one play session. 

The quiet doesn’t last long, the widow pushing your body to sit up. Your entire body feels weak, unstable, as you sway in your spot. She’s the only grounding factor you have in the moment, and you hate how pitiful you seem. Natasha is trying to get you to move faster, shoving at you, urging you to move faster so that she can strip the bed. You try to tell her that you can’t feel your body, that everything is just too much, but it doesn’t matter and you can see the seething anger. 

Looking down at you, her hand is fisted in the sheets where she’s trying to clean up. “Stop being a worthless bitch, and move out of my way.” Her free hand tangles in your hair, throwing you off the bed. You lay, crumpled in a ball, at her feet. Not daring to move as she rips the bedding from the mattress. “I’m trying to clean up after you, and you can’t even be considerate enough to move out of the way.” 

Her angry words cut deep, but she’s reaching out to you and scooping you up. It’s soft and gentle as she carries you to the bathroom. The ginger spends an immense amount of time cooing over you as she gets the water warm. Rubbing your sore muscles and softly detangling your hair, kissing all over your face each time she tugs a bit too harshly.

You basically swoon as you stand in the steaming shower, Natasha gently washing your body. Her hands running along your body makes your mind swim, quiet moans under your breath each time she randomly teases you. Leaning up against the cold tile wall as you watch her get shampoo, getting ready to wash your hair, you have to keep a grip on the shelf to keep standing. Your legs are sore and still shaky, even your body still feels weak. 

When the ginger turns around to wash your hair, she sees you leaning heavily against the wall with your eyes closed. Tying to take a few deep breaths, she tries to calm down but she can’t help the searing anger. Dropping the glob of shampoo in her hand she grips your chin, and spins your body around. It’s all too quick and the slick floor makes you slip entirely too easily. You can’t even understand what she’s hissing into your ear, bitter and heated. 

She’s shoving your face into the stream of water, uncaring as you choke and thrash about. Her voice, whispering directly into your ear, makes you freeze as it sinks into your bones. “Such a dumb little girl, how would you ever survive without me? Hmmm?” You aren’t sure how long you’re swallowing and gagging on water, spilling over your lips. You had given up, ready to let your lungs fill with water when she shoves you against the wall. “I don’t want to hurt you, dorogoya. I really don’t but someone has to keep you in your place. Don’t they?” She chuckles, low and heavy, when she sees you mindlessly nod. 

You can feel your body being thrown around, limp, as she moves you where she wants you. Brain struggling to do anything but answer the older woman whenever she asks you a question, it’s almost as if whatever she did to you put you into autopilot. 

Sinking into the warm dry sheets, you finally feel your body relaxing when she sets you in bed. Curled up in her arms, you listen to her heartbeat and her humming as you try to fall asleep. The ginger even sings to you, a Russian lullaby, to try and help you fall asleep. Nothing helps and maybe it’s the suppressed fear that lies deep within your gut, but you can tell just by how her breathing changes that it’s starting to anger her. 

The hand that was once running along your back, a soothing motion, wraps tightly around your throat as she shoves you into the bed. Her body, once again, is looming over you. The forest green eyes are dark, almost a midnight black, as she stares down at you. Her grip on your throat tightens, and a sadistic smile stretches across her face. Your vision is blurry and the moment you try to claw at her arm, she catches both your hands in one. Pinning them above your head, her entire weight is leaning on your wrists and throat. “Poor baby can’t fall asleep?” A mockingly sweet noise falls from her pursed lips. “Well don’t you worry, I’m here to always make sure you can sleep. Even if you can’t do the most simple of things for yourself, I’ll be here to make it all better.” 

You’re panicking as your lungs scream for oxygen, and black starts to border your already foggy vision. “I mean think about it, even with your stupid little brain you must realize that no one else will want to deal with you. No one else will love you the way I do.” She’s smiling at you, even as her fingers tighten around your throat. The pressure is crushing your windpipe, and you’re slipping into unconsciousness as you’re forced to just look up at the ginger. “I’ll make you better. I’ll mold you into my perfect little dove. I’ll keep you around and then you won’t be useless anymore, doesn’t that sound perfect?”  

She forces your head to just barely nod, and she gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead as she watches your eyes flutter closed. “Goodnight my love, sleep tight. I’ll fight off any nightmares that dare interrupt your sleep.”

[seblaineworld]

Hey, Seblainers! Hellooooo, everyone else!

After a seriously stressful few months, I'm finally getting a bit more back to normal and can breathe a bit more easily at last, so of course that means...it's time to decide when Seblaine Week 2024 will be held!

Now, the first poll is going to be a bit different, and let me explain why that is: I was absolutely flabbergasted by the success of 10 Days Of Seblaine, and once again would like to thank everyone who offered support and sent me such kind messages after my Mum was rushed into hospital so suddenly last year. As you all know, that meant I had to sadly postpone Seblaine Week 2023 from the original August dates, and after a vote, it was unanimously decided that we would have a 10 day event, that would comprise Seblaine Week 2023 AND Seblainiversary Weekend 2023, and it was held last November

I want to preface this next by saying that Seblainiversary Weekend 2024 will be unaffected this year and will be going ahead from Friday 8th November until midnight on Sunday 10th November 2024. So you can pop that one in your diaries, and the themes will be announced much nearer to the time.

However! I have actually received a lot of lovely messages (including, surprisingly, some from people who aren't technically even part of our tiny, (but always fierce!) Seblainer fandom, but followed along with the event), to say how much 10 Days Of Seblaine 2023 was enjoyed by you all, and the one thing I have been repeatedly asked is; can I please consider making our main Seblainer celebration a 10 day event from now on?

I honestly have no problem with that whatsoever, but I would probably take things on a year to year basis, asking the same question every May. For now, though, I want to make this entirely your decision, so the first poll has simply two options: Do you want a traditional 7 day Seblaine Week 2024, or do you want 10 Days Of Seblaine 2024?

Just to clarify; if the 10 day event is chosen, it will have 9 themes and a free day, and Seblainiversary Weekend 2024 will take place separately in November, as previously detailed above. Following the result of this first poll, and depending on whether we will be working with a 7 or a 10 day event, I'll post the various date choices before the end of May. The following week, we'll vote for our themes.

Please bear in mind that voting is restricted to one vote per person for the duration of the poll. The first poll will be open for voting from today until midnight GMT on Saturday May 11th, 2024.

P.S. I'm well aware that you are all still waiting for the 10 Days Of Seblaine Masterpost, and this will be completed and posted by mid-June. Thank you all for bearing with me during what was (and still often is!) a hectic and stressful time of upheaval. Please let me know if the poll doesn't work properly. Just send me a message or come off Anon and send me an Ask.

**Please note in advance that none of the nine 10 Days of Seblaine 2023 themes can be used for this year's event!**

Vote here, and please reblog and share this poll.

Love you all, and I am really looking forward to hosting our big event and seeing what all our insanely talented Seblainers come up with!

Ail 💜

[freneticfloetry]

fic pride friday

I finally get to start a tag game! Saw this one go by in the wild, and though I couldn’t grab the exact post to reblog, I wanted to bring the concept over to my go-to folks.

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

There’s a little slice of Husbands Era from words to get off his chest (911 / 911 Lone Star):

Times like this, TK honestly thinks he lives for the second that Carlos settles back and lets go. He hopes that feeling never gets old — the way he sinks back into his arms, just a bit, and his limbs lose the last of their tension, like he’s found the exact space where he fits and can exhale with his whole body.

There’s this Carlos and Iris truth swap from to build a home (911 Lone Star):

I think you're my new favorite person, she'd said — soft but sure, like it wasn't something wondrous after losing her dad, just laid in his lap like a gift — and he'd swallowed and said the only thing he could think of that might've been worth as much in return. I think I'm gay. She'd turned her head and smiled into his shoulder, slipping her arm around his to slot their fingers together and squeeze. Fine, she'd said, warm and wry and completely without surprise. I'll drop my 'think' if you will.

There’s this Met Gala moment from scenes from an unfinished story (The Magicians)

Really, he'd said flatly, when El had first shared the idea, you want to go as The Little Mermaid. Eliot had rolled his eyes. Well not the neutered Disney version, he'd answered, the Hans Christian Andersen original. In all its forbidden gay glory. Quentin had blinked, thoroughly confused, and El had given him a look he never did decipher. He wrote it as a love letter, Q, he'd explained, soft and sad, to a man he couldn't have.

There’s this moment before a bittersweet reunion from What Baking Can Do (The Magicians)

He's technically seen El… since; there's a copy made of clay back at the cottage, lying silent and too still in Eliot's bed. But this is the form he knows — towering and full of grace, even bent over a workbench, brows drawn together, sifting flour into a big wooden bowl. Quentin's clearly caught him mid-setup, a telltale line of little clay vessels arranged across one side of the table, and it's sort of fascinating to watch the way he's adapted, the duality of the picture it paints — a faded apron slung over some sort of sheer, gauzy shirt that's tied at his side, sleeves rolled at each cuff to the elbow and hands stripped free of rings, the room's worn wood and stone an unadorned backdrop for the drama of the dark crown of gems that still circles his head. It's an image Quentin doesn't think he could forget, but there's the strangest urge to frame it, hang it, label it in bronze: High King Humbled, 2017. Flesh and bone.

There’s this truly unfortunate timing from Confidence Man (What’s Your Number?)

The Imperial March is impossible to ignore in the best of situations, much less mid-cunnilingus, but trying to would be significantly easier without the subsequent knock on the door. She stiffens, fingers tightening in his hair, thighs clamping down around his head like a vice. "Oh, fuck," she moans, in a way that's meant to be mortified but, to his ears and his brain and every one of his nerve endings, still sounds like she's seconds from flying off a fucking cliff. "Ally, I swear to god," he says, locked between her legs, "if I come in my pants with your mother outside I may never maintain an erection again."

There’s this reflection on the past and present from Ashes and Flame (Every You and Every Me) (The Hunger Games)

I want it to be as it was. A purging of everything that haunts me, down to the smallest detail. But when I'm done, there's only space and shadow in living color, more abstract than anything that came before it. A fiery sunset over the Meadow grass, the shape of mockingjay wings. And two silhouettes on the horizon, together but separate, forever moving forward, and backward, and nowhere at all.

And finally, there’s this unbalanced negotiation from By Any Other (Lucky Number Slevin), which is maybe my favorite cold opening to anything I’ve ever written.

"You need a name." She spreads out the stack of takeout menus she's stolen from the front desk, sprawled on her stomach on their third motel bed in a week. The wallpaper is the worst she's seen yet, and is still somehow better than what was in her old bathroom. "What about Indian?" "As names go? It's a little tongue-in-cheek." He flops to his back beside her, scratching at his stomach and squashing half the pile. "I could go for some Chinese." She wrinkles her nose, wrestling the menus free. "No Chinese. I hate Chinese." "You are Chinese." "Yeah, it's tragic, they revoked my membership and everything."

Tagging in @liminalmemories21, @paperstorm, @carlos-in-glasses, @reyesstrand, @rmd-writes, @lemonlyman-dotcom , and @welcometololaland !

[bomberqueen17]

i bet you thought i forgot it was friday

for the second week in a row

and you'd be right, i fuckin did

well i remembered it was friday but i forgot what i usually do on fridays and really at this point calling it "usually" is being unnecessarily generous

ok i was just explaining to my BFF (MM, for those who remember the Wee Precious Flower Prince Geralt playthru during the Dark Times) about how ADHD people can't form habits? anyway

so i remembered in time to post a chapter of Fit For Thrones on this, technically still a Friday, though i know most of you are now off on your weekend jaunts and won't see it until MOnday, but still, here it is

AND it's a tie-in chapter!!! I'm finally tieing shit back in with the Trust series! Yes!!!

So, chapter 7 of Fit For Thrones, on AO3

and if you want bonus points it's got a bit of Chapter 5 of Involved Process right in it

But to my astonishment even doing the "lazy" thing of rewriting the same scene from a different POV made me realize new shit so it turns out to have been worth it on its own merits and not just for the lulz.

“Has he put his dick in anybody lately?” Lambert asked. “That’s usually his preferred flavor of drama.” It took a great deal of self-discipline not to laugh out loud at that, but Morvran would not presume to be in on the joke yet. His role in these conversations was to be the straight man, to supply the setups so someone else could do the punchline. He kept himself from laughing with some effort, and managed to get out straight-faced, “I do not believe I’d be on the list of people who’d know of such matters.” This wasn’t true at all. He knew a great deal about who Geralt was possibly in flirtation with, but he wasn’t going to divulge any of that. In fact, Geralt’s current location was perhaps relevant to this topic, but would surely be revealed in due time. He wasn’t sure Ciri knew about that yet either. The persona Morvran was playing would absolutely not know of such matters, however, so it wasn’t a lie by that measure. “Ah,” Lambert said, and turned his attention to Ciri. “What about you? I’d meant to follow up on that.” “I have not put my dick in anybody lately,” Ciri said, also keeping a straight face with some effort. “Lambert, please do not tell me any more detail than I already have about the adventures of your dick, of late, either.” “I mean,” Lambert said, prosaic, “I don’t think there’s any mystery there.” Actually Morvran had been mildly wondering; the fellow was linked both with the mage and with the other Witcher, and while there were clearly intimate relationships among all of them, he hadn’t yet puzzled out just who was more closely linked with whom. “Say, Voorhis was it?” “That is my family name, yes,” Morvran said warily. Sometimes this was the downside of playing the setup guy for punchlines; you occasionally wound up as the punchline yourself. Playing it absolutely straight was the only defense. “It is appropriate to use for me.” “Yeah, good,” Lambert said. “Hey, is it a crime in Nilfgaard to put your dick into a man?” Laughing was absolutely not called-for at this juncture. He had to break eye contact and look away to keep his expression under control. “Ah, it is if the man does not want you to put your, ah, dick into him,” he said carefully. He was perfectly fluent in filthy Nordling slang thanks to Tiron’s extensive research but he wasn’t sure how to say it in this put-on accent, so it was best to pretend he didn’t know the words well. “It is a crime to put your, ehm, your dick, into anybody who does not want it put into them.”

[aesethewitch]

Hey friend 👋 I just stumbled across your ghost analysis post and was intrigued, and saw that you do tarot readings?

I recently began looking into tarot, but the two decks I have aren't traditional ones, but I've read from a lot of people that traditional tarot decks are the (only?) way to go. I'm curious about your journey in learn to interpret the deck(s) you have, since I'm also struggling with that.

I also see that you have a free tarot reading Friday, and since it IS Friday, I'd like to ask- how can I overcome the political and religious obstacles that force me to hide?

(if this is a question that isn't so suited for tarot, that's my bad)

-SC

Hey there! (:

So, anyone who tells you there's only One Right Way to do something is full of shit. Folks just like to feel superior for doing things More Correctly Than You.

You can use whatever for divination and get solid results. You could make a functioning system out of coupons. Hell, you could doodle on printer paper, cut it into squares, and then use it as a tarot deck. That would probably work, as long as you understood what the pictures meant.

Some folks have an easier time with traditional decks, others don't. I tend to vibe with decks that are a little funky. Extra cards, different suits, interesting presentations, etc.

The deck I use most often, the Alleyman's Tarot, is technically not a tarot deck at all -- it's an oracle deck, since it doesn't follow the "traditional" composition of a tarot deck (major arcana + minor arcana). But I still call it a tarot deck because I can and I use it like one. It works great.

I do have the Deviant Moon Tarot, which is based on the Rider-Waite-Smith, and it would be considered a "traditional" kind of deck. It's a great deck, and it's the one I taught myself to read with many years ago.

When I got that deck, I believed that someone else had to buy tarot decks for you; it was "selfish" and would "taint" the deck's power if you bought it yourself. Also bullshit, by the way, but I had that belief in me. A kind lady overheard me lamenting and pining for the Deviant Moon in a bookstore, bought me a gift card, and gave it to me with a note telling me to buy the deck for myself. It was a life-defining moment for me, to be sure, and one that sticks with me today. I strive to live up to that kindness.

Learning was an interesting thing. I didn't look up any spreads, and I barely used the book. Mostly, I just wanted to look like I knew what I was doing right out the gate (I didn't; I was 18 and had self-image issues, lmao). So I taught myself to interpret based on vibes and imagery, then went back to reference the book when I really needed to. It helped that I had a spirit ally hanging around that was looking for a vessel; it's still attached to those cards to this day, and it helped me learn how to hone my abilities. For a long time, the act of pretending I knew what I was talking about prevented me from actually learning much at all.

It isn't... well, it isn't great advice. I wouldn't recommend "learning" tarot the way I did. I figured it out after a while, but there was no real system to it. If I could go back and relearn it the way I would do it now, I absolutely would. Here's what I've learned is a fairly good method for learning any new tarot deck:

Shuffle the cards and lay the pile face-down.

Draw the top card.

In a notebook, write down your immediate, knee-jerk impressions of the card. I recommend just key words or single sentences.

Then, take a closer look at it. Note the colors, positioning of figures, background imagery, and other details. Write down what you see, not how you would interpret it.

Now interpret. Take your time writing down how the card's specific imagery makes you feel. What does it remind you of?

Jot down an example question and how you would apply the card to the answer. For example, the question "What do I need to know right now?" answered by Temperance could be something like: "Patience is a virtue. Take your time." Or however you would interpret that.

Set the card aside. Repeat until the entire deck is done.

Congrats! Now, you have a general idea of the entire deck's meanings and a handy guide to help you remember what they mean to you.

Bonus step: Review periodically. Opinions and interpretations change as you do.

I follow this routine with every new deck I get. I've figured out that the same card in two different decks could have vastly different meanings, depending on how it's depicted. It's really cool!

Also, it's kind of important to note that I'm not really a full animist. I don't think that tarot decks (or other tools) have individual spirits. My Deviant Moon deck has one, but that's because of the ally I mentioned before. The Alleyman's deck doesn't have a spirit as far as I can tell. I've got spirits hanging around that enjoy assisting with divination and magic and such, though.

As for free tarot, it's closed for now! The update reblog was sent to my drafts instead of posting,,, sorry about that!! Your question would definitely be fine for tarot interpretations (though a little shallow with only one card; situations like that are typically better interpreted with more cards I've found). I do open it up every Friday, though, so feel free to stick around and send another next week! (: (Or visit my Ko-Fi linked in my pinned post if you want a more in-depth paid reading! /shilling)

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

green, bag, tea, and/or spring for the word thing!

thank you my talented friend :)

My only green is technically not new but in an updated version of a prompt response I posted last week that I'm tinkering with maybe continuing, and fixing up to post on ao3 to have everything together.

 If someone was calling him this early, it wasn’t a social call, no if someone was calling him this early, something was terribly wrong. Briefly, he entertained the idea that some terrible car accident meant Ruth was being called to work, but that hope was destroyed when Roy glimpsed the name on the caller ID.  Jamie Tartt. “Jamie?” Roy answered on the third try, his shaking fingers missing the little green button the first two tries as nerves wracked through him.

Bag from thought i wanted love ('til you showed me what it was):

“Oh fuck off. I had a couple drinks. It’s no big deal. I’ll go to a meeting tomorrow.” Jamie stormed upstairs to the guest room where his Dad was staying. Jamie grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and filled it with everything he bought his father the past week. New clothes, toiletries, trainers, anything the man needed. James was standing in the foyer when Jamie returned downstairs with the packed bag. Jamie inhaled deeply as he placed the bag at the front door, preparing for his father to dig in his heels.  “I’m done, Dad,” Jamie said. “This was your last chance. Get out.”

Tea from False Confidence:

“Did he wake up?” Roy pulled Ted from his thoughts, handing him plain water while the assistant coach sipped his tea.  “Yeah for a bit, the doc was here but he was more confused than I was that time I got lost in the corn maze at Old Mister McGuirk’s farm.” “Yeah, don’t talk like that when he wakes up. What’d the doctor say?” Roy asked.

Spring from you inherit the sins, you inherit the flames:

No one told you how devastating it was to lose your father while he was still alive.

No one told you there could be a moment from which you viewed everything as before and after.

For Rebecca Welton, that moment happened when she was sixteen and walked in on her father with another woman. After that terrible fall Friday, there was a distinction in her life. Where before, she had a Dad, and then that man was her father. There was a difference between the two. One that she didn’t know existed until it happened.

She spent the fall and winter waiting for her father to beg her forgiveness, but by spring, when the ground thawed but her heart remained frozen, she knew he never would.

[larryrickard]

trauma from performing cpr

i don't even know if i want to post this here, but whatever. i'm trying to talk about it to bring awareness and to process shit. i'm finding surprisingly little about this. it's also been a hell of a fucking week and i'm worried for my own health tbh. i've written shorter versions of this on fb & ig but i should probably get ALL of it out and well hello tumblr, you have the room for it and are technically a blogging site. so here we go. if you read all of this, bless.

thursday 07/11, my stepdad (R) feels unwell and my mom, as symptoms begin to stack up, suspects a heart attack and takes him to the hospital. he is indeed having a heart attack. he never lost consciousness. he's transferred to another hospital and has two stents placed.

sunday, 07/14, he comes home.

friday evening, 07/19, one of the stents fails (we won't know this until later). he immediately lost consciousness. i overhear my mom ask if he's ok, if it hurts, and "i'm calling 911". she yells for me. i go downstairs to hear her telling 911 that he's not breathing properly, she can't tell if he has a pulse, and that he's turning purple. my brain immediately goes into overdrive. all i can think about is how we need to perform cpr (my mom panicked and hadn't even thought of that and this upset her. i pointed out that it's understandable, and the 911 operator would have gotten her there, i probably only just beat them to it). i run to unlock the door for emergency services and when i come back, we manage to get him out of his chair and i start cpr (more about that later). my mom eventually had to take over. thankfully shortly after that, EMTs/fire arrive. at one point my mom counted nine of them, plus the two cops who showed up. they work on him for what i initially thought was like 30 minutes but was more like an hour. they finally get him stable enough to be able to transport him to the nearest hospital with a cath lab and availability.

between here at the house and at the hospital, they'd shocked him at least eight times. he was very unwell. i stayed behind, as did three EMTs. i figured they'd just collect sharps/biohazard stuff and be on their way. i was fully expecting to clean the rest up myself, and to put back all the furniture we'd moved (getting him out of his chair, moving stuff out of the way so it was easier to get him out on the stretcher). but no, they grabbed everything they could, and put the furniture back. i knew, if i were them, i'd have done the same thing and not thought anything of it. but it was just such a small gesture that really got to me and meant so much.

i'd called his sister (N) and my mom's sister (B). so my mom at least had B, N and her husband (R2), and one of their daughters (N2), who is a nurse. (wildly, my mom's niece (B2) is also a nurse and they attempted to call her in to help but she said no, that was her uncle, and obviously was immediately disqualified from the rotation.) he's so unwell that N tells my mom that if she wants to take R off life support, it's her decision and N fully supports her. shortly after, one of the doctors comes out and says R has improved slightly and said he was following instructions. we (doctors + family) had been worried the lack of consistent blood/oxygen flow would have left him with severe brain damage and/or damaged organs/extremities.

my mom (and N2?) go to see him. she talked to him, and he would try to pull out his ETT (breathing) tube. my mom would gently guide his hand down, and tell him no, that it's okay, just try to breathe normally, don't fight it. at that point he got tears in his eyes. eventually, B, N & R2, and N2 made my mom go home to try and get some sort of rest.

saturday, 07/20 at 3:30am, the doctor calls to say R is stable but obviously in v critical condition. they have some sort of pump on him to help his heart, but it's too small for his height/weight, so they want to put a larger one on him. they're going to transfer him to another hospital who has one.

my mom and i manage to get a few hours of sleep. my mom and i talk some in the AM. we have no idea if he's going to get any better. and if he does, we have no idea who he is going to be if he does. i ask if he has a living will, and my mom didn't think so. we talk about how, knowing him, he probably wouldn't want to be kept alive if there'd be no good quality of life. she was thinking she'd tell the doctors not to save him if he codes again. out of curiosity, she goes looking for his will and finds he has a living will (that's like 15 years old so no wonder she forgot), which confirms what we were thinking. that removes any doubt my mom might have had should she do those things. she later felt bad that she'd allowed him to be saved at all at the hospital (the heart pump thing) and i told her what did she think R would have done if it was her. or any other pair of loved ones. immediately go looking for a living will, or follow them to the hospital and ask that they be saved? of course it's going to be the latter.

a doctor calls and talks about wanting to try to get R onto ecmo, so that his heart can have a rest. the right side of his heart was now damaged as well, and the doctor was hoping that if they could do this procedure for at least 3-5 days, his heart might get precious rest and it'll profuse blood through all his body instead of the smaller pump that couldn't fully do that. it would also give them an opportunity to see if there was any organ damage. they might even know sooner than that.

they had to sedate him because he kept trying to pull out the tubes again. given that he was still following instructions and seemed to have heard her the day before, my mom had a hard time trying to decide whether or not to do the procedure and how best to honor his wishes. we decided to go ahead and give this a try. it'll give us answers, and we can go from there. we'd only be keeping him to see if there really is anything TO be kept. my mom tells the doctors if he codes again to withhold life-saving measures.

my mom and B go to see him. i didn't want to see him like that. especially after having to see him like i did the day before, and the trauma i'd experienced (again, more on that later).

my mom and B come home around 3:30pm. obviously, this is not a good sign. i know it has to mean he's gone. they confirm he is. that they tried to get him onto ecmo, but his heart started going crazy. the doctors believed so much that ecmo could help, that they performed some cpr to try and get him onto the machine. after several minutes, they stopped.

as with many deaths, it didn't feel real. he was feeling fine. there were no symptoms that something was wrong. he was just... out, and then there was a sliver of a sliver of hope that i was doing my very best to not think about (though i did have the thought of telling him he owed me, for the cpr, as a joke).

before he died, one of the doctors told my mom that we saved his life. if we hadn't performed cpr, EMTs would have had nothing to work with. that even if he didn't survive this, we gave him the chance TO survive it. this took a huge weight off my shoulders. i literally felt lighter. various people i talked to about it called me amazing. brave. badass. someone even said i was "heroic". that's not how i feel. i'm fucking traumatised. even over a week later. thankfully, i knew, going into cpr, that breaking ribs was a big probability. i'm glad my brain reminded me of that beforehand and not as i did it. i've also since learned usually it's more like separating cartilage from the sternum, but going by the sounds, and the feeling... at least one rib was broken. most likely multiple. also possibly just reinjuring one. it was horrible. i obviously kept going because i know a sore chest is better than being dead. he occasionally gasped for breath, which in the moment was comforting because it meant i was doing it right. but the whole thing will not leave my mind.

cpr is as exhausting as they say it is, but thankfully adrenaline helps with that. i had to stop and let my mom step in. i literally fell over and almost fainted, i was so woozy. i hadn't been paying attention to my own breathing. probably not enough and probably breathing too quickly. i was sore as fuck for about two days.

i called a crisis line that night in order to get help until i could see my psychiatrist. i needed something to help me with the thoughts. immediately after EMTs/fire arrived and took over CPR i literally thought "i hope i don't get ptsd from this" lol.

(i will say, i did get to see a lucas device in action. these are amazing machines that perform chest compressions for the EMTs to free them up to do other important life-saving techniques, as well as save them from the exhaustion. it's also more accurate than a human. seriously, look them up.)

the crisis line gave me the advice of: let the thoughts happen. they're obviously going to. it's me and my brain's way of processing everything. but, to then let them go. i asked what did they mean by this. they said think of something else, distract myself. don't focus on the thoughts or let myself spiral. easier said than done, obviously, but it did give me some sense of control. i couldn't control those thoughts, but i could do my very best to control the next one.

the day R collapsed, five hours before that i'd had a regular appt with my psychiatrist and told her what had happened and that he was doing fine. lol. thankfully, i was able to see her on monday 07/22. then...

that night, around 9:30 my mom called me downstairs to tell me she was feeling dizzy and that her blood pressure kept going up. she'd taken baby aspirin. she had me get her blood pressure medication so she could take it a few hours early. i made her drink some water because she hadn't had very much, and had coffee that morning (which dehydrates you), and figured she was just dehydrated but what with everything that R had gone through, we were both hyper-aware of possible signs, and wanted to be sure. so i took her to the hospital. her EKG came back fine but they did blood work, and some protein or enzyme or whatever that the heart releases when it's stressed (such as in a heart attack) was elevated so they had her hang out in a room for a bit. they tested her for stroke just in case, as well as took her for a CT. her echocardiogram was fine. they decided to admit her, bc while that protein/enzyme was coming down, it was too high for their liking. they scheduled an MRI for the morning. i went home around 1am.

tuesday, 07/23, about 2am she called to tell me they were transferring her to another hospital that had better capabilities in terms of heart health. again, her EKGs came back fine, they did an angiogram and there's no blockages whatsoever. they suspected a slight heart attack from all the stress, but in the end (and after another echocardiogram), they declared her to be fine. broken heart syndrome. the heart was stressed and therefore tight, so they've given her meds to help relax the heart muscles so it can rest. she came home wendesday 07/24.

needless to say, i'm stressed as fuck. my psychiatrist sent in an rx for anxiety meds i hadn't needed in like 7 years. i was doing better until the whole thing with my mom. how the fuck it's been a week since R died i have no idea. thankfully i could take bereavement from work this week, and my boss is giving me monday off as well just to give me an extra day bc the added shit with my mom. i've also asked if i could be assigned to one of our service desks where it's easier to step away than the other two (unless the one has two of us at a time, which doesn't always happen). she's got that set up for me. i also have a follow-up with my psychiatrist on thursday. i was going to ask for leave long enough to meet via telehealth as usual but i forgot there's a staff meeting that day so my shift is scheduled earlier. she's booked our meeting room for me to use, and made sure the desk i'm on has someone else schedule on it at the same time so i can make sure i'm not late.

i'm worried about my own heart. even though my HR has come down while medicated, it was at/over 100bpm for about two days, then around 90 with meds, and then back to 100 with my mom. finally came back down to 90s, and with meds it's been around 80bpm which is at least close to normal. thankfully, when i'm asleep it's in the 60s like it should be. saturday evening it was more around 70s which is so much better. but i am also overweight. my cholesterol is occasionally slightly high, but not high enough for them to be worried at all, and my LDL is generally pretty good. i just worry that my heart is doing the same thing my mom's did. and, of course, worrying about all that does not help my HR.

anyway. i didn't have high opinions of the man, as he was ultraconservative (at least he hated trump...), which is why i've never been able to be out to my parents as queer (not-straight and nonbinary). but he has been in my life since i was 8 (i'm 41 now). i obviously had some love for the man. and i feel bad bc while it hit me that he was probably going to die, now that he's gone it's still just more of a disbelief that he's not going to be around anymore. that he's just. not here anymore.

and, all of that being said, do not let my trauma dissuade you from performing cpr. it's one of the most important life-saving techniques we have. get trained, even if just once. refresh yourself occasionally, keep up with any updates to it. for example, hands-only CPR is trained more now than including mouth to mouth. my two(?) trainings didn't prepare me for the broken ribs thing, they never mentioned it. thankfully, from what people are telling me, it is included in the training now. some training covers the guilt people might have if (when) that happens. but i just wish there was mention that you might need help afterward, especially if you have to perform cpr on someone you know. (the AHA finally recognised this ONLY TWO YEARS AGO.) maybe share some resources to help you. apparently some larger hospitals have support groups for this. also, to talk about it. even if you don't have a professional, just talking about it to people helps. and reduces the chances of ptsd. that these feelings do happen. unless you're in the medical field, your chances of having to perform cpr are very slim. actually saving a life is, unfortunately, even rarer (1 in 10 apparently). but YOU could be that person. you could save someone. you could give someone the opportunity to survive, the possibility of a second chance at life.

while this is a less-than-once-in-a-lifetime situation for a layperson, and i wouldn't wish performing cpr on anyone, PLEASE, attend training at least once and regularly refresh yourself. if you're employed or in school, you might be able to attend a training for free.

trauma aside for a moment. it's fucking wild knowing i saved a life, even though it didn't work out in the end. it's a strange feeling. i've been told i should be proud of myself. maybe i'll get there some day. idk.

[firespirited]

So, uh, I had a nervous breakdown - emotional meltdown - mental overload and guilt spiral of sorts that culminated in 5 fully blank* days and nights (*I keep a "times, meds, symptoms and activities" notepad). It's over now as far as I can tell as the cause has stopped, I didn't harm myself beyond some self neglect or cause pain to anyone else. I'm ok, picking up the pieces and determined to get treatment.

Not even sure if those are the correct terms and feel kinda uncomfortable using them like I just "spontaneously broke" as opposed to getting broken down by others but no one here is ready to talk about that so Emotional Breakdown™️ will have to do. Now that I've done a bunch of research and self-examination it was more of a PTSD reaction, a prolonged emotional flashback that I didn't know how to stop and with no outside relief or help.

Long post under cut

I was unfortunately mentally lucid and reacting to very real things but in an emotionally disproportionate way... which was actually not very impressive at all since everything but the sobbing and some talking to myself was happening on the inside, in the foetal position in my pitch black room because who knew? Stress in the neck or face sets off the mega migraines 🙃.

Very uncinematic. Barely an inconvenience to my flatmates. I force-fed myself bread, water and whatever meds might cause withdrawal if discontinued, fed Lily her pain meds at around the same time every night. I'm going to get a good grade in not being a danger to anyone or myself 👍👍👍

I began sedating myself as soon as the urges for inside pain to be visible on the outside got strong enough to actually visualize concrete ideas. Nothing with withdrawal potential: a few months worth of anti allergy meds, M eventually called the doctor once I ran out and had to tap in to my sleep meds, 5 days in to the full-blown meltdown.

Why sedation? I happen (lol no, it's actually pretty related to the ptsd) to be an expert on all things suicide and didn't want those thoughts to even get close to started.

My doctor is stellar, she believed me, didn't act like my grief was unwarranted, prescribed more anti-histamines and kindly but firmly told me to stop blaming myself for other people's choices, we just can't control how other people choose to act. The self loathing had started from a seemingly obvious pattern and spiralled way out of any kind of logic. That grounded me a little on Wednesday.

We talked over my options : the local psych ward is the opposite of restful or safe for migraines; the care homes have waiting lists, especially in summer when people drop off the elders to go on holiday but she's going to try and find me a slot if the current home stability breaks again. Not having any extended family or local friends meant no escape and that didn't help mentally either.

I feel like I've had a really bad flu, I feel very fragile. I feel like things have been very unfair but also not safe enough to indulge any anger about it, not here and now so a sort of numbness has settled in... emotional that is, the migraines are stomping my head and also irritating the bowels because why not add insult to injury? 😂

Mum's violent mood swings were over on Thursday morning and on Friday I decided I had to face life, get back in the saddle before fear could kick in and helped sis go to an appointment that she was very nervous about. Just about managed then crashed the rest of the day.

It felt good to be useful 😊💖and I needed the perspective of there being a whole wide world out there, not just the lovely tumblr folks in my phone 🌸💕🌸 who are close but also unreachable.

Moral of the story, if there is a moral to any of this, … ? Repressing your fears and emotional pain for 30 years will turn you into a sobbing blob with little to no control so don't assume you're handling things because, yes technically you are, until your last tether breaks and then you're just a trauma response at full volume.

Oh and flashbacks don't automatically happen visually or in nightmares like in the movies. I already knew that for me, specific memory flashbacks seem to cause a hollow and weak nauseating feeling like when adrenaline is wearing off but now I know emotional flashbacks are more of a paralysing overwhelming series of waves of many strong feelings. One of the more identifiable red flags among the general mess of emotion for future episodes would probably be irrational and very potent guilt/shame.

So uh yeah, sorry I haven't checked in for over a week or done much of anything, I'll try and catch up as soon as I can 🥰

So now it's beyond confirmed : I have PTSD from stuff that ended over a decade ago, stuff from far older too, you think time heals all but it doesn't heal untreated wounds and I'm going to seek treatment no matter what.

It's mortifying to talk about but if I tell you lovely people, well, I can't run from it any more.

I'm also going to need to set boundaries with some very fragile people but not without the help of an expert, I've been caring for sis and her borderline tendencies for over a year this time around and not been allowed to set limits. Mum's crossed a line she can't even see yet. It could be months before that's a subject we can safely approach.

I have a post in my drafts from last November about finding great happiness in a bare room of a few boxes, a mattress and the internet and how I'd be quite content to live that way again: peace really is worth it. It's like a letter to myself that this was coming and reassurance that I've been happy before despite frightening change and financial poverty.

I have duties to my family and they too have been good to me - there's the expectation that therapy will "toughen me up" to better manage but I can tell from just that disastrous first session with mum present, that boundaries will be part of the deal. That's the most frightening and delicate part. I have been eldest daughter, big sis, selfless friend and good kid™️/parenting kid from my very first memories, any change will be perceived as not being me any more (maybe even to myself), it'll also go against deeply ingrained societal and personal habits.

__________

In other news Lily turned 16, she is happy and healthy. She's been with me for 9 years.

I was hoping to train a new therapy dog as she's been retired for a couple of years and even lined up a sweetheart of a rescue called Vanina. That can't happen yet. Or maybe that's something I need. Idk.

I don't expect any major pivot in the doll hobby, watch habits or Patreon/support to friends at this point but it's all in the air.

Looking forward to getting back to normal and also cherishing (in an odd sort of way, maybe that's not the right word) this moment as a "survived it!!" thing but also "WOW you needed help and it's overdue".

Take care of yourselves lovely people. See you soon.

[shadowetienne]

Reflecting on seeing OnlyOneOf for Things I Can't Say LOve tour stop in San Francisco (2024/05/03)

I meant to type this up sooner, but I've had several hectic weeks (leading up to going down to SF to see OnlyOneOf and since). Mostly good hectic, but hectic nonetheless. It was incredible getting to see OnlyOneOf again though, and I want to write up the experience before it fades in my memory.

This was a much less whirlwind trip than last year (where we drove down the night before and back up the next day), but it was still an adventure. We started very early in the morning on Wednesday, May 1st, with @redeim and his partner picking me up around 6 am just north of Seattle, and then us going to pick up another friend who was roadtripping down to CA with us to see relatives but not to see the concert. We had two drivers this time (Redeim and his partner) which was already an improvement on last trip. Redeim was coming off a knee and ankle injury, which will come up again, but was a bit of an impediment. The trip was, as expected, long. We didn't actually make it to where we were staying (with Redeim's partner's family over across the Bay from SF) until something like 1 am. I did knit an entire cowl on the trip down though, and it was nice to get to see a lot of the trip in daylight this time. Thursday (all day) and Friday (morning) were spent visiting with people we know in the Bay Area.

We went up fairly early for when we needed to be there for VVIP check in, but not absolutely as early as we could have (here we are before we headed out: https://shadowetienne.tumblr.com/post/749535185571315712). It was easy enough getting in and getting checked in, getting our lanyards for VVIP and our premium snapshot tickets. We didn't take that long in and out which was nice because Redeim's partner hadn't gotten VVIP so was waiting for us outside while we did the check in. We then went to get caffeinated beverages and some food (and a silver sharpie from the art store a few blocks down because we'd forgotten ours in Washington and we wanted to have it for people to be able to sign the flag).

But soon enough, we were back to the venue area, and during the time we'd done our little wander, the lines had started to properly gather (even though it was technically early for the VVIP line to have started to form). We wandered the VVIP+ line side for a while trying to get as many signatures on the flag and getting a fair number of freebies in exchange. There were also a good number of people with GA tickets around who we were able to get a chance to sign the flag. But after a bit of this, people were herded into the VVIP line for not blocking the sidewalk reasons. Redeim and I were still getting a pretty steady stream of people to sign the flag because we had it out and people were wandering along the line with freebies, or walking around if they were in VIP or GA and didn't have a line up area yet. At some point in here we got the delightful chance to see @jungwookjins and @tolkpopfan who swung by to sign the flag and say hi! (Standing in line and getting the flag signed: https://shadowetienne.tumblr.com/post/749535784683667456)

We also got to chat with the people around us in line, and as always lyOns are delightful. I got so many compliments on my outfit, and so many people who remembered me/us from last year. Handed out a few of the little pride flags that we'd brought for people who didn't have lightsticks (or just wanted a pride flag). There was a lot of commiseration about how much of a menace Rie can be (was last year, and it turns out would continue to be this year).

Eventually, after a good long while of waiting, it was VVIP's turn to go in for fansign. I liked the set up for this better than last year because where we were queued up let us watch the members for a while before we actually went up to get the posters signed. I got to watch the tail end of the fanchat before they took the chairs away, and then a chunk of VVIP that came before us. Some fun observations from that time: Nine continues to move constantly in his seat. I was very entertained watching him kicking his heels together with his feet resting on the cross bar of his chair and just being incredibly wiggly. Junji was very very smiley, and he seemed to be really enjoying being there. Also his hair was so good. KB projects the most of all of them in terms of being able to hear his voice when I was standing in line. I definitely spent most of this time watching Rie though (I suspect no one is shocked). He looked incredible, and I was so curious how the interactions would go this time.

At last, it was our turn to go up for the fansign. I believe it went Yoojung, Mill, Junji, Rie, Nine, KB, but the middle could be out of order there. Yoojung and Mill were both quick for me, they signed, they said thank you/love you, it wasn't a big interaction. Junji did a repeat of last year's interaction a little bit. He looked up at me, gave two thumbs up and said "shirt!" with a big smile again, and then said "thank you for coming again." At this point, I suspected that he might remember me from last year, or at least my shirt. Rie was, unsurprisingly but somehow still surprisingly, a menace. He looked up, definitely remembered me because the first thing out of his mouth was "thank you for coming back bestie" (he kept using bestie, it was somehow very charming). I told him he was my favorite, and he said, "I love you," and at this point he's trying to be handed Redeim's poster and I'm only freaking out a little bit. I got passed along to the rest of the members to sign, but I've got to tell you, I don't remember as much about what they did because Rie had just done his Rie thing.

This is where Redeim being in the process of recovering from an injury comes back into play. He was using a cane, and after the fansign, they were going to herd us down into a room downstairs for waiting until the high touch and group photo, down the steep stairs in an old building. One of the staff noticed Redeim using the cane, asked if he was OK with the stairs, and then herded us over into ADA (I was like "can I stay with him" which they were chill about). This was the first bit of venue weirdness, and it turned out ADA wasn't very well placed. It was sort of off to a side and too far back, especially for a standing venue. People sitting in ADA were going to have a very hard time seeing the stage. We had to wait for a while, and they ended up having the ADA area folks all go up together for the group photos (because they forgot to tell us how they wanted us to join the line until it was getting into VIP, and there were a mix of VVIP+, VVIP, and VIP folks in the ADA section at this point). This did mean that I got to watch most of the high touch and group photo process from over at the ADA section. They are so sweet and friendly and good at fan interaction. They're very clearly happy to see all the fans!

When we got to do our high touch and group photo it went pretty fast, I did get to confirm that the shoes that I wore this time made me about Junji's height, which was fun. Mill only startled a tiny bit at my tiny hands this time. Rie continued to be a menace. Got a smirk and a hand squeeze again this year. Then for the group photo, I was standing behind in a sort of in between way Rie and Nine, which was nice (hopefully group photo turns out OK, haven't seen it yet).

Then it was back to ADA to wait for a bit while stuff got set up and it was time for them to start letting people in. It ended up being a standing only venue other than the ADA section because they'd closed off the balcony (Redeim's partner had originally been expecting to sit up in the balcony for GA). I'd decided that I was going to go stand as close as I could to be able to get the flag up to the stage, but Redeim also decided that he would come stand up there with me, so once VVIP started coming in, we made our way up to stand as close as we could (they gave us little stickers that meant that we had in and out options for ADA). Redeim's partner got a great photo of us while we were standing waiting for things to start because he was just a little behind us: https://shadowetienne.tumblr.com/post/749583294468849664

I'm tall enough that I could see the stage quite well (or well, as well as I can see anything), Redeim was struggling a little bit more, and would at a point end up going back to ADA for a while, and then standing a bit further back with his partner while I stayed as far forward as I could. This is wild for me because with any other crowd, there would be absolutely no way I'd be comfortable standing away from my people. I generally feel really comfortable around lyOns though, and so many people had recognized me from last year, and had said nice things about my outfit. As we were settling in waiting for the show to actually start, we passed out all the rest of our little pride flags to people who had been standing with Redeim's partner in GA or who were clustered near us and didn't have something to wave. It was lovely how excited people were about them.

Eventually the concert started, and all my focus was on the stage. OnlyOneOf are incredible performers. I couldn't tell you the set order, or exactly what they performed off the top of my head for the most part (Redeim has videos), but every single stage was so good. I was definitely the most focused on watching Rie, but all of them had pretty good coverage of the stage when they were doing talking bits or songs that didn't have choreo and they wandered around. There were some moments that stood out to me a lot because of who I was watching: so many cute JunRie moments sort of scattered through out. Rie was having trouble with either his microphone or something on his outfit, and during one of the first ments, he and Junji sort of dropped back to the back of the stage and Junji helped him fix it. There were several hugs scattered through. The entire wonderful nonsense of Junji doing the challenge dance with the belt, and KB stealing Yoojung's belt for him to do it with, and Rie joining in on the choreo (and then KB also joining in and being very silly). And the ui medley stage, which was incredible. We didn't get one of the most exciting JunRie endings of the entire tour so far, but they made hearts together and then walked off holding hands which was sweet. But then after the ui medley, we got the treat of all of the members messing around trying to show Nine and Mill that they could clearly do the ending choreo of beyOnd better.

As we were approaching the end of the show, I got the flag out and was holding it up at times (I was trying not to block anyone's view, but I wanted to make sure that the guys got a chance to see it in the audience). Flag definitely got a few of their attention! I got reactions (pointing to it with a big smile, hand hearts, some combination there of) from everyone but Mill (he didn't make it over in the area during one of the times it was more visible). I also may have hidden behind the flag a little bit when they sprayed us with water because I did not entirely enjoy that sensory experience. I actually tried to send the flag up at two different points, but the first one ended up coming back to me because for some reason it didn't keep getting passed forward, but after another flag had gone up successfully, I managed to send the flag up on stage: https://shadowetienne.tumblr.com/post/749535481042272256

Mill is the one who ended up with the flag, and it was around his shoulders for a good long while. I wish that they'd gotten more chance to look at all the messages that people left for them, but I'm glad that it made it up on stage and all the members interacted with it at least a little. They had to send all the things back into the audience this year (sadly, we really wanted to have the flag be a gift to them). Redeim and I are plotting ways that we might be able to get it to them as a gift if they come back next year/in the future.

I already talked about the premium snapshot experience (and my confirmation that both Rie and Junji remembered me from last year) here: https://shadowetienne.tumblr.com/post/749574999788109824/got-premium-snapshots-with-both-rie-and-junji-it

It had started drizzling a little bit by the time I got out of the venue, but we were able to make our bus and train connections back to where we'd parked just fine, and then back to where we were staying. I'd originally been hoping to go into SF the next day for a bit, but between weather (pouring rain) and being exhausted, we ended up having a rest day, and then we drove back up on Sunday (again leaving very early). Got home just before midnight, and I'm definitely still just rotating the experience in my mind.

I hope they are able to come back again next year, and maybe also come to Seattle next year (though I'm going to be so very very tempted to try to see them at multiple stops if I can manage it). They are so incredible, and while I think that last year is still my very favorite concert I've ever been to, this year was amazing, minor venue issues and all.

Also, I'm just going to be reeling for a while over Rie and Junji both remembering me. I'm not sure how I feel about being perceived, but overall it was a nice feeling, they seemed so happy that people were coming back to see them again. Also Rie is an absolute menace and flirt, but it's charming.

[digitalmidnight]

The Mouse Prince

Tom and Jerry, Swan Princess Au

Once upon a time, there was a king named Merlin who ruled a large and mighty kingdom. And yet, he was sad. What once had been a large family had been dwindled down to two by the evil sorcerer Rutherford. Him and his baby cousin, Jerry. 

On the baby’s first birthday, Kings and Queens came from all around to offer their gifts to Jerry. Among them was King Terrance and his chosen heir, Tom. 

I completed a fic and so will be uploading it on an actual schedule this time! 8 chapters, 1 chapter for every Friday remaining this year. It will be around 20k words completed (more or less depending on any editing I do)

Additional, rambling notes underneath Read more

So I rewatched Swan Princess and thought "Hey wait what if this instead" and it spiraled out of control into this fanfic. With Tom and Jerry of course.

There's technically no original characters in this! When the fic is completely posted, I'll make a list of the characters and where they came from. I did consider making the evil sorcerer to be the witch from Tom and Jerry and the Lost Dragon, but I didn't. Oh, well.

At first, I wanted to tag it as OOC. Now "out of character" is very hard for Tom and Jerry because, being honest here, I could probably justify almost every personality or relationship for them by cherry-picking episodes. I had to change Jerry in this fic from Odette's character to more based around himself in the 1992 movie. Tom, however, wasn't based on anything. If anything, I wrote him based on him from my detective fic, which does make him OOC. Then there's the fact they talk SO MUCH. Like, way too much for Tom and Jerry. Ultimately, I decided not to tag OOC because I could see them doing the actions at least.

So, to write this, I downloaded a transcript of the dialogue as a guide. However, I still had to create a vast majority of the dialogue. For starters, I changed character's personalities from their original characters, so there were several "HE WOULD NOT SAY THAT" moments I had to change. Then, there were several changed plot points, which meant I was making up a large portion of the ending's dialogue. For instance, Jerry is the one to come with the ideas, unlike Odette, who just kinda followed everyone else's lead. I had to make dialogue for when there was music, as this is not a musical fanfic. Then the small changes spiralled, and I had to make up almost every line of dialogue by the later chapters. This was overall pretty good practice for knowing where the plot goes, but needing to write the dialogue to get there.

This was cathartic as I fixed almost all of my personal plot issues with this movie from when I was a kid. Except for the fact I did remove every woman. Oops. I need to write a Tom and Jerry fic that passes the Bechdel Test one day.

I am working on the other 2 fics. About 5-6 chapters of this fic = 1 chapter of the other two. I haven't posted for practically a year! Oops!

[igglemouse]

Song of the Day! New Music Friday!

I realized something...this year will be my 10th...yes, 10th year here. I'll probably make a post about it later but it has given me a thought.

I've been here a long time! I feel like a simblr elder, not sure if that is a good or bad thing but...I am surprised to have been here for so long now that I think on it. Even through some times where I wanted to quit. Each time I restarted my legacy was a moment where I felt like just quitting, except the one with the technical issues. Especially that time where a simblr I was very close mutuals with just stop interacting with me and then blocked me. It was very odd. It always made me feel like someone was saying something about me behind my back which was also odd since...I literally just post my stuff here, reblog other stuff, and try to keep positive energy. I remember thinking at the time, was it something I had done? I couldn't figure out why, I'm socially awkward so I thought maybe that was it...

When I started this simblr, nearly ten years ago, I was not in a good place. I was dealing with pretty bad depression, medicated, suicidal, the whole bit. I might have mentioned that over the years here, I doubt it because I'm pretty guarded, but I think back on it posting was the best thing I could have done then. It was a fun escape and knowing that people saw some value in my writing, even if just a little bit, really helped and it pushed me more and more into writing, which was a good thing. It was something I could focus on. I discovered through this that I have this ability to write and write a lot and here I could play out any story idea I had and I've always had so many come and go.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this one! Sometimes, I just have a thought and it turns into something longer. I would say I'll be here ten years longer but honestly who knows?! I think that's more on tumblr than myself lol as I do love tumblr but I hope there's a better platform in that time to migrate to.

I will say, to all the people that complimented me. That said I inspired them to do this or that, reached out to me, to even those that complimented my writing. Even those that did so and seemed really into my stories until just randomly unfollowing and ignoring me...well, no take backs! I've absorbed all the nice and positive thoughts. Not that they would be reading this any way lol.

So, I guess if you wonder "Why does she keep saying stuff like that!" I guess that's why, maybe its being dramatic but since tumblr/simblr played such a big role in me writing in general I know it meant a lot to me when people have shown me love in any kind of way. Taking things a day at a time is also important to my mental I guess that's why I've always tried to post daily. It's something I've been told years ago to always look forward to something tomorrow and keeping my little legacies going is one small thing in my life that has been pretty consistent.

So yeah! Ten years here will be a cool achievement! If I have the time and have the health maybe ten more years! I feel like even if I became a millionaire I'd still be posting >.< and that millionaire thing is ahem...might be a possibility...life is much better for me now then when I started doing this!

OH! For those new followers, sorry, I do this like 2-4 times a month. I do used my SOTD posts for venting, ranting, talking, whatever!

Also Maria and Araceli tomorrow!

It's always too early to quit. ~ Norman Vincent Peale

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Went To Check Rooster Teeth Site (After Seeing A Post On Here...)

[Note: Reading This Optional...also this is not for kids, but for mature audience readers only, even if this post isn't super mature but is still meant for Mature Audience Readers Only. ]

yeah, decided to check out some Red Vs Blue Fan art and I saw a post that wasn't really fan art but it kind of gave that whole not great feels...

I decided to open up a new tab to check on the site, and it seems okay. when I'm able to and get around to it, I will log on there and well I could probably even watch the new episodes on there even when not log on...on the site it says that new episodes of Camp Camp is coming every Friday and it seems that Season 5 is already up on Rooster Teeth Site, I can't wait to watch the new season of Red Vs Blue.

in my option, RWBY should get a few more seasons, where it focus on each member, first Ruby when they fell into that wonderland type place and next will focus on Weiss, then Blake and at some point Yang, before giving all the team some form of neutral focus with other characters in the finale volume, which might be like Volume 13.

I hope that Rooster Teeth stays for a super long time, cause well with the whole stuff that goes on in this world, and it doesn't help that some parts of the Toxic-Masculinity played a part on that whole Covid-19...that is still a twisted form of justice that is suppose to "teach" humans a lesson, if Toxic-Masculine is involved, it would just teach me that it isn't just humans that can be violent and do some messed up stuff...still gonna at least try to pray for the one who might be influenced by the Toxic-Masculine to be healed and detoxified.

I still want to call dibs on Mammon's butt to kick, he probably freaking knows why....same goes with my wanting to give Lucifer the whole cold hands to face punishment.

I wonder if some people have gotten emotionally tired with the bull slag that goes on with the Toxic-Masculine, well also with the Toxic-Feminine as well, but once again, the Toxic-Masculine is at a bit of higher level and wasn't really properly fixed.

and yeah, that whole post I saw didn't really seem okay with me.

it's bad enough that Covid-19 had happen and pretty much messed things up, even if the post wasn't meant to be bad, ya know in a way that would cause bad feels but was meant to be I guess some kind of memory honor type way, which would still be sweet in a way...

but I hope some understand my feelings.

also besides the whole women international day and month, maybe there can be a Nonbinary Day, a day for the different type of Nonbinary.

wait, is there already a day like that...? even if it isn't on the official calendar. I mean of course with how some humans are, it wouldn't be on the official calendar, but we can still be thankful some do celebrate it.

and well technically that whole women's month, would also be a day for Nonbinary-Women as well, so there is that...

maybe I should try not to worry or let that post I saw get to me, and hope that the thing that was said, NEVER happens.

but I do hope that there can be a Nonbinary Month, and if there is already, I hope to find it and see it for myself.

anyway, I don't want my feelings to be misinterpreted, I might not be the only one who didn't feel great when seeing that post.

I'm not gonna say much about the post, like some stuff that it said and well it might be for the best, I mean with any luck some of the info might be not true and it could be a misunderstanding...

I can just hope that my talking a bit about it and my feelings don't get taken the wrong way, I mean of course it would make me feel not great and well hopefully things will get better.

I already feel ashamed by one of my Royal Ancestors former subjects, well maybe only ashamed of only half of them.....for certain reasons.

and I have another reasons to suspect that Toxic-Masculine might be involved in a certain mess, which I'm not gonna say what it is, and no it doesn't mean I'm talking about Rooster Teeth....that could of been hinted when bringing up Royal Ancestors and their former subjects.

well hopefully things work out, ya know for both that and the whole Rooster Teeth thing.

also in theory in a Alternate Universe, Rooster Teeth could be called Hen Lips. yeah that is a weird thought, but that name could work in a parody way as well as being a hypothetical gender-swap universe where Rooster Teeth is called Hen Lips.

anyway I'm gonna go to sleep, been up for some hours and it might be a good idea for me to go and get some sleep now.

I can come back on later or tomorrow and post some fan theories and post some fan art and even check out some fan art myself.

and maybe check to see how many have voted so far on that second poll I made on here, that has to do with the different versions of Megatron. maybe for my third poll, I can make one about Red Vs Blue or maybe about how many may think it is canon about the whole it's the boy angel that has the baby in Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss, being like in Fairly Odd Parents where it is the boy fairy that has the baby, even if it is the Girl Anti-Fairy that has the anti-fairy baby.

well it is still interesting to find out it is the male seahorse that has the baby, so the whole guy angels being the ones who end up being pregnant would still remind me of Fairly Odd Parents...we wont really know for sure if it will be canon in Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, but maybe some fans are suspecting it could very well be true, but will have to wait for some kind of confirming or debunking of that fan-headcanon theory.

Tucker and Kai might not end up together, even if they might seem a bit off and on, and Kai might not of fully figured out that she is bisexual, I mean there could of been hints that she is.

but it could be possible that in Red Vs Blue, they could end up together...maybe?

maybe Junior would get his own spin-off series, he could deserve it.

if I ended up finding and touching some energy sword in real life like Tucker did, and some Alien who is called Crunchbite tried that whole get me pregnant so his kid can inherit the sword...

I would have that said Alien marry me, cause I would not let my little prince or princess be born out of wedlock even if that can still be optional...and yeah if that whole situation with Tucker did happen to me, the offspring would technically be a descendant of royalty.

if Crunchbite had ever survived, and possibly faked their death.

he could be made to marry Tucker, well even if it would just be in the Fanon and it's not like some fans wont end up shipping Crunchbite x Tucker...not sure how Omega would react if he got in my head, he will either be too freaked out by the weirdness part of it, or he will end up finding the not so great sad feeling parts and will find the memories and not so great feelings I had when I had those two depressions.

and if Omega did end up getting linked to those not so great feelings and memories, he would likely lay down on the ground or in bed and hug his knees to the chest which would technically be my knees and my pronouns are she/her and they/them...

it would be safer for Omega to not go to that part of my mind, if he thinks Doctor Gray is scary, then the not so great feelings from before from my two depressions I had, could be overwhelming for Omega, even if he is a Epsilon Memory Copy of the Original.

and I know I rather not end up feeling like that whole depression feelings from that first one in 2015 and that second one that happen some time later, which it did suck falling into a second depression.

and I really rather not go into a third one, the whole having the down feeling days every once in a while is more tolerable in comparison.

anyway here is hoping RWBY does get 13 Volumes in the future, and Camp Camp gets 29 Seasons, and there being a really awesome spin-off series of Red Vs Blue in the future that will have Junior as a main protagonist along with any other future characters.

even if it is wishful thinking, but if if the whole Junior getting his own spin-off series doesn't happen, there is always the fanon that could make such a spin-off happen.

anyway I'm just gonna go to sleep now, I might be back on later or later tonight or tomorrow, or whenever I'm able to.

so see ya later, and once again I hope my talking about the other stuff in this post that had to do with Rooster Teeth doesn't get misinterpreted, I mean I do have some right to my own feelings like both positive and negative....even if some people have misinterpreted some stuff I said before in a super wrong way that had caused my feelings to be hurt....I'm trying my best to do better about that, so there can be less of a misunderstanding of what I say...

so when I do log back on, I might talk about some fan theories about either a show or movie or cartoon or video game...

but for now, I'm just gonna go to sleep...

[anderseva]

1, 2, 3, not only you & me || norgeva

WHO: Noah Puckerman @puckhq, Morgan Weston @morgan-weston, & Eva Anderson

WHERE: The Spare Room & then Eva's home

WHEN: Friday, August 9th

WHY: Two hot people enter the bar with technically the same birthday present for the birthday boy, so they decide to turn it into a threesome. There's no smut under here, we decided to fade to black because writing a threesome is too much work for us but pretend this is the steamiest sex of your life under this read more anyways.

MORGAN WESTON

"Delta Dawn, what's that flower you have on? Could it be a faded rose from days gone by?" The infamous Tanya Tucker song blared out through the speakers. The sober people in the room probably wished that it was actually the Tanya Tucker version that was being belted out, but alas, it was not. Instead, it was some drunk lady, with a bottle of Budweiser - king of beers, after all - in one hand, and a microphone in the other, misreading the words on the screen, from the karaoke software. Morgan laughed to himself. Of course Puck would be celebrating his birthday at a bar with karaoke. A variety of songs had made sure the party was going strong, and "Delta Dawn" was no exception. 

People cheered for the drunk lady - they were probably also drunk - and Morgan took a swig of his own beer and looked around, spotting a seemingly happy birthday boy. Puck and him hadn't seen much of each other since the day they slept together, but that didn't mean that Morgan was upset, by any means. It just meant that there was more catching up to do. Heading towards him, the tall cowboy took several long strides, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a group of people instantly swarming him with birthday wishes. Morgan took another sip of his beer, and thought about what to do. He was in the middle of the room, and he looked pretty awkward, he figured. So instead, he tried to spot a way out of the situation. And there she was. He could spot her from a thousand miles away, he was sure of it. "Ms Anderson," Morgan greeted her, in their silly little way, as he walked up to her, with a smirk on his bearded face. "Are ya here for Puck's birthday too?"

EVA ANDERSON 

Eva hated karaoke, even more so while she was sober and her vision was 100% clear as day. Maybe it stemmed from having a musically inclined family, but hearing people who were tone deaf attempting to belt out songs she probably didn't know or hated was the worst kind of torture. She was only here for Puck, and that was the only thing that had guided her feet into this godforsaken place and right over to the bar. She'd even tipped the bartender a few extra bills to send a tray of shots over to Puck while she was being served bottomless Dirty Martinis — extra dirty in terms of less juice and more gin. As soon as he started putting them down in front of her, she was tossing them back before he could even start working on the next one. 

The crowd around Puck wasn't a surprise since he was so damn popular these days, and she didn't mind having to busy herself with some other people she knew, or had exchanged a few posts with online before finally meeting in person. Everyone seemed to be keeping the convos light while they sipped on their own alcohol, so it was decent enough company until she felt the need to push her way through the crowd to get to the birthday boy. Luckily that issue was pushed aside when she saw Morgan coming her way, and she couldn't have contained the glowing look on her face even if she'd wanted to (which she obviously didn't). "Hi, Mr. Weston." Eva beamed. God, she needed to unpack why she could turn into a bit of a puddle around only two attractive, tall ass men, but tonight wasn't the night to analyze that shit. "I am, but I didn't know you and Puck knew one another too." She hummed. "I'm surprised to see you at a packed bar, but I'm also jealous that Puck is apparently special enough to make this happen." She stated and frowned. "How do you two know each other?"

MORGAN WESTON

The way Eva looked tonight - 'oh, to hell with it', Morgan thought, 'the way Eva looked all the time' was enough to turn even the worst of days into the best ones, for the tall man. And then, her reaction to him, the way she greeted him, the tone of her voice with that smile mixed in, had him weak in the knees and stumbling, as he tried to casually lean against the big bar. If she asked, he'd blame it on the alcohol, and the amount of beers he'd had tonight. Grinning back at her, he took the last sip of his beer, before putting the bottle on the bar, and signaling to the bartender to get him another one, as well as another of whatever Eva was drinking. 

Morgan leaned in so he wouldn't have to shout over the drunk karaoke lady, the height difference between them more apparent than ever when he did so. "We met at the mixer - like you and I," He started the story, and maybe it was because he was a little tipsy, but he felt confident in himself. "We kinda hit it off right away. He came over once. Y'know..." The bartender came around with the drinks, and Morgan took another sip of his beer, turning to look at the guy everyone had come here for. "He's a good-looking man, Puck is." He turned back to look at the girl that kept enchanting him with her ways of just being. Morgan was hoping that she was good at reading in between the lines of what he was saying, so that he didn't have to flat out say 'we fucked', because what kind of southern gentleman would do that? "Eva, have ya ever heard the song 'Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond Of Each Other'?"

EVA

If there was always one thing Eva could depend on when it came to Morgan, it was probably his ability to always look at her and make her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She was in the top three for sure, that much she knew, yet that gleam in his eye certainly felt like she was in the number one spot. It also helped that she seemed to leave him just as flushed, which wasn't a rare occurrence for her to get that response in return, it was just foreign for it to be mutual. She bit her lip as he leaned in closer, already spiraling from the close proximity. Had it not been for the cheers around the bar for that horrible performance on stage, she might have completely forgotten the real reason why she was here and made a move on the man right there at the bar. 

She hadn't been anticipating much for Morgan and Puck's first meeting aside from some little meet cute where two tall, hot men probably made jokes about being the tallest in the room or some other masculine thing men do when they met other dudes, so her jaw was damn near on the floor as she followed along with where this story was going. Morgan didn't even have to spell it out himself as the song did just that, and she nodded her head slowly. "The gay cowboy song." She stated once her jaw was back intact. How her gaydar had missed this, she'd never know. "Wait — are you here to give Puck another round as a birthday present?" Eva questioned, and as soon as the words left her mouth, a light bulb went off in her head. "If you are, I was about to tell you that you'll have to get in line behind me...but there's three attractive bisexuals here, one birthday boy, and we're giving him similar birthday presents, so..." Her words trailed off there as she smirked up at the cowboy, figuring he'd catch where she was going with this.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

Today had been a fucking awesome day and unlike most people, Puck actually liked karaoke. Yeah it was loud and most people couldn't sing, but the vibes were always right and the energy was always good. It was fun and people were drunk and celebrating him, so as far as the now thirty-two year old was concerned, there was no better way to end his birthday. Originally he wasn't going to drink too much, but people were being so generous and sending rounds of shots and it would be rude not to slam back at least one, maybe two. By the time he noticed Eva at the bar, he was being dragged up to the stage for a group number and he only agreed because it was a classic. Montell Jordan's, This Is How We Do It. At some point, he noticed Eva wasn't alone and he almost hopped off the stage when he realized who she was talking to, but whoever was next to him, grabbed his shirt to pull him back.

By the last thirty seconds, Puck was so distracted by how fucking hot Eva and Morgan looked, he wasn't even anywhere near a mic and he was just clapping to the beat. When the song finally ended, the birthday boy made his way down to the two people he had been the most interested in seeing tonight. As he approached he saw an energy between them and was way too tipsy and warm to figure out what it was. Finding his way through the rest of the crowd, he smiled as he came to stand between the two. His attention on Eva first, "God damn, you look good." Not that she didn't always look good, leaning down, he put an arm around her waist as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and thanked her for coming. Turning to Morgan he pulled him in for a hug, his hand cupping his beard covered jaw as he pulled away. "I'm fucking honored you came man, I know it's not your scene." Letting his hand linger a little longer before backing up completely, he looked between them. "Were y'all talking about anything interesting?"

MORGAN WESTON

Morgan watched as the realization washed over Eva's face, almost in slow-motion. The way her jaw dropped, it was like he could see when it sank in, and she understood what had happened between Puck and Morgan. It was almost amusing, and he couldn't help but smirk a little bit - he was kind of proud of that conquest. What he just hadn't realized, was that Eva had been there and done that too. It was almost as if Eva's realization about Puck and Morgan was transferred to Morgan. The tape rewound, and instead of it washing over Eva's face, it washed over Morgan's. 

"Are you- the two of you- together, you have-" Morgan stumbled over his words for a bit. 'God, that was so hot,' he thought to himself, and bit down on his bottom lip. As Eva kept going, putting suggestions out on the table, Morgan nodded along slowly, as he understood and picked up what she was putting down. "I think I underst-" Before he could finish that sentence, he was interrupted by the man in focus today, Puck himself, and he watched as he greeted Eva, knowing - and picturing what had gone down between them, in his head. He greeted Puck back with a soft smile, and a gentle 'happy birthday', before turning to look at Eva, the smile slowly turning into a wicked smirk. "Just 'bout your birthday present, man." He said, his gaze shifting focus to read his face and his reactions. "We think you're really gonna like it."

EVA ANDERSON 

Eva grinned at Morgan being tongue tied as he tried to understand what her deal with Puck was. Not that there was even a label for it yet. Maybe friends with benefits, though they hadn't even gotten too deep into the friends thing yet. Same with her and Morgan sort of, so really, she was in a great place with them both for her little idea to spawn into something. And Puck sliding in between them only heightened her interest in this arrangement. Smirking at his compliment, she leaned into the kiss to her cheek. "Thanks, birthday boy." She beamed. Wearing the short, tight-fitting dress had obviously been for Puck's enjoyment and it had worked, but for both of her boys. 

She let Morgan greet Puck as well before he answered the question, clearly on board with her little idea. It made perfect sense really, and with two out of three of them consenting, she didn't think it would be hard to get Puck to do the same. "Considering how many shots I sent you, Puckerman, I'm sure your mind's a little foggy so let me just spell it out for you: Mr. Weston and I were thinking that the three of us should take this party somewhere more...private. We can go back to your place if the kid is gone, but if not, my condo is like fifteen minutes away from here." Eva shrugged.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

Standing there, mouth agape, Puck was going over Eva's words in his head, thinking he must have misheard. There was no way she was suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. What apparently both Eva and Morgan were suggesting. It's something he'd thought about, I mean, you would too if you had the pleasure of experiencing them both separately. They were also two of the hottest people he'd ever seen and standing between them like this, drunk and vulnerable, he felt safe. Looking at them both, Puck really shouldn't have been so surprised. Why else would he have invited them both here knowing he'd want to go home with one equally as much as the other. What was the plan, if not this?

"She's not home but fifteen minutes is closer." Puck finally responded because he wasn't about to question shit and give any of them time to reconsider. It was his 32nd birthday and something told him this was going to be the threesome of his dreams. Especially since it was now obvious that Eva and Morgan clearly had something. Even if he was just a bit of fun on their way to falling in love, he would take it. "I'm ready when you guys are."

MORGAN WESTON

What the hell was happening? This was not something that the cowboy would've done back in Montana. He had sex, obviously, but it was never with two people at once. He was too quiet for that stuff! He didn't know what it was; maybe it was the alcohol circulating his system, or maybe it was LA, having him come out of his shell? Or maybe, it was the fact that he had two insanely hot people, who were feeling the same attractiveness, and the same yearning to be with him, the way that he did for them. They both turned him on so much, in two different ways, and having the opportunity to now mash that together, and have them at the same time was blowing Morgan's mind completely.

He motioned to the bartender that he'd pay for all three tabs, the moment that Puck's words left some sort of confirmation to the group. And while the bartender was ringing it all up, Morgan whipped his phone out, leaving no time at all to do something that he'd only recently learnt how to do; order an uber to take them to Eva's condo. He ordered, paid, and shifted to put his hand on Puck's ass, moving in to whisper in his ear, "happy birthday, man," his breath warm, and his eyes catching the same darkness in Eva's eyes, as he knew he was feeling inside of himself. His phone vibrated in his hand, and his heart jumped once at the excitement getting closer. "Our ride is here, let's go."

EVA ANDERSON 

The way Puck's jaw dropped when the realization hit told Eva everything she needed to know about what his answer would be, as if he could have gone another route even if he'd wanted to. It wasn't every day that this sort of offer was laid out on the table, and even she had yet to partake in this sort of threesome, which was quite the shock to her own system. Being the only female in a threesome had never been propositioned before but now that it was, she was desperate for them to make it happen. Once they received a verbal confirmation from Puck, she smirked in response. "Thank god." She stated, exhaling a small breath she hadn't even known she was holding. The quicker they got somewhere else, the better. 

Morgan jumping right into action and taking care of literally everything was hot as hell, and truthfully, Eva didn't know how she was expected to survive this night when both men were this fucking insatiable. Even just staring at them together was driving her wild, and it felt like it took much longer than it had before Morgan was announcing that their ride was here. "Fucking finally." She groaned, grabbing both of their hands and damn near yanking them out of the bar. Luckily the car was waiting right out front, so she led them over and opened up the back door, climbing inside first. "Let's go, boys!" She beamed before she made sure the driver had her address, needing them to get there as quickly as this damn car could possibly go.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

Everything was moving so fast, Puck's drunk mind was processing even slower than usual. It however did register Morgan's hand on his ass, which lowkey kinda hand him wanting to kick his feet and giggle. When Eva grabbed his hand to get in their uber, Puck managed to register that too. Nervous and excited, Puck wasn't sure what the other two's experience with threesome's was but Puck has attempted several and only two have been, what he'd call, successful. Watching as Eva got in, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't gotten slightly distracted by her in the tight ass dress, but he quickly came back to reality, and this was his reality somehow. Getting in next, he found himself holding Morgan's hand to make sure he squeezed his tall ass in the back with them so he could keep a hand on each of them for the ride.

Putting a hand on Eva's thigh, he looked at her and smiled as she gave the driver her address. Already he felt like tonight was going to be a good night. It didn't feel forced or like he was just determined to make a fantasy come true. He'd also never been in this particular setup and had it go well, usually the other dude just wasn't really up for the Devil's Threesome, but he already knew that wouldn't be an issue with Morgan. He also knew there was sexual chemistry between him and Morgan and him and Eva and if the looks those two have been sharing with each other are any indication, Eva and Morgan were no strangers to each other. With those thoughts in his head, he really needed the driver to move a hell of a lot faster.

MORGAN WESTON

Morgan chuckled to himself as Eva grabbed their hands, rushing out past the crowd that had only come for one of the boys that was now leaving. Morgan would've thought it all through, had he been sober, and maybe even felt a little bad about taking him away from his own party, but he was damn attracted to these two people, there was no way his drunk self was going to pass up the opportunity to have them both, in one night. As they reached the car, Morgan followed Puck's gaze, his eyes landing on Eva's ass as she got into the backseat, and it only encouraged his excitement to grow. She was so hot. 

Maybe he blacked out or something, but all of a sudden, Morgan found himself in the back of the car, with the other two. A gentle hand was resting on Puck's thigh, and he couldn't help himself when he leaned in, planting his lips just under the man's earlobe. He kept going down his neck, slowly and softly, as his hand trailed up the birthday boy's thigh, getting dangerously close to his crotch. "You smell so good," he murmured against Puck's jaw, and was completely lost in time, having no clue where they were. But time felt like it had gone by so fast, because all of a sudden, the car stopped, and they'd arrived at Eva's address. "Thanks Mr. Driver, have a good night!" Morgan said, and climbed out of the car. "C'mon y'all!" He almost ran up to the building, dragging the two others with him, as he grinned, the excitement of what was about to go down taking over every sense in his tall body.

EVA ANDERSON

With the anticipation clearly growing in all three of them, the drive to her place felt like it lasted much longer than it should have, yet in reality, it hadn't at all. As soon as they arrived and Morgan hopped out and pushed them to do the same, Eva giggled as she pushed Puck out and then let the cowboy lead the way up to her door. She managed to swiftly unlock the front door and shoved it open as she practically ran inside. "Mi casa es su casa...or whatever." She stated and giggled, kicking her heels off right in the doorway. She'd never had two men of their statures in her bed at the same time, but she was sure that the California king would fit all three of them and the positions they were about to get themselves into. 

"I'd ask if either of you need anything to drink, but..we can worry about that kind of thirst later." She hummed as she led them back to her bedroom. "Master bathroom is next door, in case one of you needs it now." She hummed. Luckily her bedroom wasn't a mess and her bed wasn't covered in clothes she'd tossed out from her closet while trying to get ready for the bar, so they were essentially ready to get right down to business. And before either one of them could change their mind (not that she expected them to), Eva turned her back to her boys. "Will one of you unzip me?" She asked, and boy was she thankful that she'd chosen not to wear a bra or panties under this dress tonight since that would've just been fabric for the men to have to get her out of.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

As he felt Morgan's hand on his thigh and his lips against his neck, Puck let his hand creep up Eva's thigh and suddenly the car ride that was taking forever, ended and in the blink of an eye he was in Eva's place, with her standing in front of them asking to be undressed. Like a light switch, Puck looked at Morgan before taking his hand and walking the few steps until they were just behind her. Figuring, as the birthday boy, he deserved the honor, Puck unzipped the dress, quickly noticing a lack of bra. Smiling, he turned Eva around, so she was facing the two men before Puck moved the straps so the dress could fall to the floor. God, she was perfect. A part of him felt like he should be working on getting himself or Morgan undressed too but all he could do was appreciate the true beauty in front of him.

MORGAN WESTON

A sober part of Morgan wished he could have tried this with Eva alone, before getting involved in a threesome with her. The way he knew what made Puck moan a little bit louder, or grab him a little tighter, or what would send him over the edge, he had no idea what he could do, to get the same reaction out of Eva. But Morgan wasn't about to pass on this opportunity; he'd be a damn fool to! He got to have the most attractive people walking on this earth! So instead, his drunk senses would have to sober up, so he could feel his way through all of it, and be the best experience they'd both ever had, wanting to be even better than the last time with the birthday boy! Morgan watched as Puck started unzipping Eva's dress, holding his breath for a second, but then remembering that the two men still had so much clothes on! So he moved in to unbutton Puck's pants, while maintaining deep and focused eye contact with Eva's body, as the dress fell to the ground and revealed the silky smooth skin behind it. He could hear the choir sing. She really was a goddess! "I'm done waiting." Morgan announced, pulling his shirt over his head quickly, and grabbing both of their hands to pull them down onto the bed, chuckling as he did so. 

Breathing heavily, the naked cowboy moved to lay on his back, a hand going up to rest behind his head. "Holy cow..." He managed to breathe out, closing his eyes for a second as he came to his senses. They'd been going at it, for who knows how long, and it had been one of the best orgasms he'd had in his life. There was a light glisten on his body from the sweat, and the moonlight's rays shone in through the blinds, casting the only light on the throuple. He opened his eyes, moved to his side and sat up on his arm, smirking at the other two. "So...round two?"

[astrabear]

1 and 7 for the fanfic author asks? 💖💖

Yay, thank you for asking!

1. What was your first fic and could you stand to reread it today?

Ok technically the first fic I can remember writing was in 2013. I had just reread The Secret of NIMH and was stuck by a wave of compassion for the researcher who lost his life's work. I had an idea for a whole long and intricate follow-up which I never had any intention of writing. But I did write a couple of vignettes, only one of which I can easily find. And it's perfectly fine to read (I'll paste it at the end of this post.) It helps that I was in my mid-30s at the time.

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

I have a lot of ideas for a sequel/second chapter for Finders Keepers, in which I really dig into Booker trying to work on his shit. The problem is that it involves him reading and responding to particular books, and in order to write it well I would need to (re)read those books, and it's just not a priority. But I really want Booker to discover logotherapy. Oh, you outlived your family? Meet Victor Frankl, you whiny bitch.

Anyway, here's a tiny snippet from my entirely imaginary NIMH sequel exploring the disintegration of Dr. Schultz's life after the rats escape:

Donnie Kirkland's father had become convinced that the bomb was going to drop within the next year, two at the outside, and had started building a bomb shelter and stockpiling foods. So Mark reported Friday afternoon, when Eugene picked him up from school. Other men could sit around and hope for the best, but Mr Kirkland was going to make sure his family made it out alive. Eugene wanted to tell his son that you're never really prepared for the end of the world. You can try, but no collection of checklists, no stacks of neatly-typed policies and procedures, no amount of cool-headed foresight can really save you. The usual rules don't apply; that's what the end of the world means.

But visitation weekends were short enough already, and he didn't want to waste time on another argument. He could still remember the last one, still remember the impatience in Mark's voice when he asked, "Is this about those stupid rats again?" Eugene had tried to turn the argument with a joke, had said he only wished the rats were stupid, if they'd been stupid he'd have been a lot happier. But Mark could tell he hadn't really meant it. So this time Eugene kept his thoughts to himself and took Mark to a movie instead, some Western with Steve McQueen. And for the rest of the day, he didn't think about the rats at all.

Most of the day, anyway. Four hours, at least. No less than three.