#than fiction research anon

[not-poignant]

your whole world in Underline the Rainbow seems incredibly well fleshed out, down to the thought of what dietary needs alphas would have in comparison to omegas. Is there any omegaverse fiction that inspired the world of Hillview? Are there any fics/original fiction in the omegaverse that you particularly enjoy? Your interpretation of it has been my favorite that I’ve ever read, so I’d love to know what you draw from and what you enjoy reading in that world. I can’t wait for more Underline the Blue, I can tell that it’s going to tear me into teeny tiny confetti sized pieces and then put me back together again - janusz and nate already have my whole heart

(Also I hope that whatever is going on in your life resolves quickly and easily and with the best possible outcome - it seems like you’ve been through hell lately, I hope things get easier for you soon <3)

Hi anon!

The worldbuilding is so fleshed out in the Underline the Rainbow series because I just outright stole some of it from my other original omegaverse series, my published Perth Shifter e-books Blackwood and The Gentle Wolf (you can see those on the first pinned post on my Tumblr).

And I spent like...quite some time actually - like hours and hours - doing the kind of research I've never seen in most of the omegaverse stories I've read. I dove down pretty deeply into hormonal research, before inventing unique hormones (ardolphogen, larentin etc.) - even giving them the same suffixes as known hormones - for alphas, betas and omegas to distinguish them physiologically, so I could at least make a pretence at dealing with the medical side of things re: suppressants and health matters.

What I actually haven't included in Underline the Rainbow is all the historical research I did for Perth Shifters. Because in Perth Shifters, as the name implies, the characters are wolf shifters, and there are also humans who aren't alpha/beta/omega in that universe. So some of it wouldn't apply.

There's no one omegaverse work that inspires me. I'd say I've read literally hundreds of them now - in original publishing, in fanfiction, in manwha and manga. What I actually really love about it is that quite a few of us appreciate the chance to do some unique or different things with the standards of the genre, which means I can do stuff that people have seen before (knotting, heats), but that I can also do stuff that no one has done before (no one has given omegaverse folk the names for the hormones that I did, for example).

When it comes to details like the dietary needs (more fat for omegas, more protein for alphas etc.) I literally made that up on the fly. No thought went into that beyond 'shit that sounds good.'

But what goes into being able to do this is simply that I'm an avid learner of just about everything. I know a little about hormones already because I have a hormonal cancer. I know a little about nutrition and digestion already because I have an eating disorder and see a dietitian. These kinds of things are often in the back of my mind (along with decades of research into things like PTSD, or biology, or ecosystems and ecosystem management, or...the difference between grass fires and tree fires and the heats they burn at and how to survive either, etc.) I am filled with a repository of knowledge that is often useless in my day to day, but comes in handy when I'm writing.

So while I improvised the nutritional differences on the fly, I didn't do it with no knowledge behind it, I just didn't need to stop and research it at the time. It pays to read like over a thousand non-fiction books on literally any subject, y'know? That shit is so helpful for improvised worldbuilding.

The reality, anon, is that I'm drawing way, way more from research into science than I am from other omegaverse stories for these specific kinds of worldbuilding. Spending hours reading books and Wiki articles on hormones for example, has done way more for my omegaverse worldbuilding than any fics/stories I've read. Which probably sounds pretty weird, but most of the extra worldbuilding in this comes from science and resembles more of the work you'd put into science fiction or even hard science fiction worldbuilding, than it does from...reading other books in the genre?

Because frankly most omegaverse stories don't focus on this stuff. And also, a lot of the omegaverse I've read is pretty much straight-up smut, lmao. Which I love. Let's face it, a lot of folks are here for the knotting and the heats. :D And I love that! But I also love...worldbuilding (both in advance and on the fly, lol).

I will say that Leta Blake's omegaverse work has some pretty awesome cultural worldbuilding that I've not seen before. Mine isn't based on hers, and a heads up that there's mpreg, including literally 'sex while the baby is inside and the person feels the baby moving through their dick' which is like...very much past my line of what I like reading lmao. But the worldbuilding itself in Slow Heat and Alpha Heat is pretty awesome. She often does unconventional omegaverse dynamics, such as older omega / younger alpha with significant age gap, or alpha / alpha, etc. I would definitely say that I admire her worldbuilding, even though I don't base mine on hers. (Hers is a world where women no longer exist at all, for example, with religious and cultural lore that springs up around this and the duties that then apply to omegas and alphas to procreate in a fairly extreme dystopian setting where the mortality rates for omegas re: childbirth are shockingly high and being afraid of dying during childbirth is extremely normal/appropriate).

The Big Bad Wolf series by Charlie Adara also has some pretty cool worldbuilding (though not nearly as deep as Blake's, also no mpreg), which features a human/alpha pairing. Also it's romantic suspense which is just an awesome genre overall.

Also, there's more Underline the Blue coming on AO3 this month! And also more coming on Patreon too! This is definitely an Underline the Blue month. :D

[steelycunt]

do you have already some ideas for pride au s? i need to know what is going on in that blender that ur brain is. do u see him with high waisted levi’s and crop tops??? is he a total doormat for smiths enjoyer r??? i need to know more

hi omg yes! yes i do! s' deal is slightly different to r's, in that r has no parallel/does not correspond to any character in the original film, so i'm basically inserting him as a figure into the narrative (although as irrelevant as this is, to me he is. closest to bill nighy's cliff if cliff was a young man in the eighties xx), whereas s more or less fills the position that mark fills in the film. but other than that he is completely free 4 me to characterise and i think he will be so fun honestly! from the thoughts ive had so far hes sort of a mess of a guy at least to begin with. he is kind of moving at a hundred miles and hour + throwing himself into organizing this thing but if you were to slow him down and put him under a microscope hes uhhh. quite lost + lonely in a way. i expect it will not take him very long to become quite embarrassingly gone for r i think he will consider him the best thing since. sliced bread within hours of meeting him he is imagining them both as the two maidens of pompeii its. a really poor performance from him. he thinks r’s accent is sooo sexy every time he talks s is twirling his hair like omggggg. say that again or please elaborate please tell me more…please…..

also i am looking forward to dressing him up in fun outfits again because he is first and foremost my barbie i am just not sure what yet! i am not as familiar with the eighties as i am with the seventies in a lot of ways so. the setting and everything that comes with that will be really fun to research xx although i am struggling to decide on s' music taste!! r lends himself very well to eighties music i think i could build him a record collection easily (including the smiths sad but true) whereas. s seemed to fit better in the seventies :-/ i am not sure what hes listening to in the eighties apart from seventies records he hasnt let go of yet!! and despite the much more glaring aspects of this fic i have yet to turn my attention to frankly. deciding what silly little songs s wants to listen to is currently one of my main priorities xx

[annabelle--cane]

I guess the thing that makes me not so fond of Jon's addiction allegory is that it's only coherent to a certain extent? Like I think people sometimes forget that he's actively violating these people

anon, through no fault of your own you have accidentally hit upon my sleeper agent trigger phrase. I have layers of answers to this.

so first off, yeah, it's not a 1:1 direct metaphor, it's a soupy dream logic fantasy plot device with flavors of a lot of different things. there's quite a lot of addiction in there, there's some abuse of power, there's some cyclical nature of trauma, there's a dash of disability, there's a few notes of gendered violence, there's a good bit of just. violence violence and being kind of a motherfucker because goddammit it feels good to be an active agent about something in your life, even if it's just choosing to be a worse version of yourself than you strictly need to be. a lot of tma's worldbuilding is very allegorical, but apart from aspects of individual statements nothing really matches up quite 1:1 with a real world counterpart, and if more things did then it probably wouldn't be a fantasy show anymore.

secondly. okay to contextualize this answer a little bit I have a kind of hypothetical video essay project about vampirism and addiction that I like to spend a few hours thinking about every so often but am almost certainly never going to make because the full research burden required is a lot higher than I actually have the time to properly do. but because of that I've spent a lot of time sorting through why framing vampires as addicts really works for me in a way that it doesn't seem to for everyone, and I think a lot of my thoughts on that also apply to jon. there's going to be a bit of a detour here before we get back to talking about tma, but we'll get there, I prommy.

I've seen a lot of people take issue with various paranormal addiction allegories because, a lot of the time, the act that is meant to metaphorically represent the act of use itself is something that is directly and inherently harmful to others, e.g. drinking human blood, handing over power to your hedonistic Evil alter ego, holding the cursed amulet and going crazy going stupid, slurping trauma out of the head of some guy you ran into on a boat to norway, etc., and yeah, I do get that. substance use is not inherently harmful like that to anyone except sometimes the user themself, and addicts are not inherently fucked up and destructive people; those are dangerous stereotypes that often lead to the demonizing of a whole group of sick people.

here's the thing for me, though: those are definitely truths I want explored and represented when it comes to portrayals of non-allegorical actual addicts, but fantasy fiction isn't for showing the world as it is, it's for showing a subjective fun house mirror version of reality where certain aspects are minimized and magnified depending on how it feels to live through it. and yes, absolutely in real life drug use is not an inherently evil act and it does not make you an inherently evil person, but... doesn't it kind of feel like that? sort of? absolutely no one is living their best life nor on their best behavior while experiencing any kind of major mental illness episode, and when it comes to addiction you've got a very clear tangible symbol of when The Episode is happening that it feels like you have much more control over than when it comes to other illnesses. it's also a thing where people are a lot more likely to be openly angry and distrustful of you if they find out it's happening. so you mix together the ideas of "I know I get worse as a result of doing this one specific thing" + "I act less like myself when I'm using, it rearranges my priorities and I care less about hurting people because that's what happens when you're experiencing The Horrors" + "society at large/people directly around me are pretty quick to say that doing this is evil," and you get the subjective emotional result of "I hurt people by using and it makes me monstrous." I tend to respond to those kinds of paranormal allegories like they're just cutting out the middle man of those subjective fears. "using makes me monstrous" -> "using is monstrous."

anyway. jon archivist.

don't get me wrong, I totally understand if this aspect of metaphor doesn't gel for some people and they only like taking it exactly as far as the text explicitly makes them, but I really get a lot out of reading jon's connection to the fears as addiction precisely because he does genuinely awful things to people as a result of it. he's a person in a very bad physical and mental place with little to no support who is constantly being told by both allies and enemies that he's already a monster just by being alive, and he copes with that by secretly falling further and further into an compulsive act of consumption that skews his priorities and makes him care less about hurting people because at least sometimes getting to be the cause of pain makes him feel a little bit less powerless when he has to be the subject of pain the rest of the time. then he's found out and is made to stop, and he has to grapple not just with the physical toll of withdrawal but with knowing there is a not insignificant part of him that will excuse any act of malice if he knows he'll feel better afterwards.

the end of tma is very explicit in the fact that the rules of its world are shaped by the subjective worst fears of those who live in it, it's "an exercise in unreliably reality" as jonny sims put it once, and I think that principle extends backwards in some ways to apply to the rest of the show. I don't think the fact that there are only entities of fear and not hope or love is meant to be a full commentary on the total nature of the real world, it's a reflection of what fear and suffering can make the world feel like. eric and melanie both go to really harsh extremes to extricate themselves from the fears and live peaceful lives, and in both cases something happens that foils their plans (getting murdered + the apocalypse, respectively), but I don't think the intended message is to say that is definitively how real life works, they are metaphors for the limits of individual agency in larger systems and represent two types of worst-case-scenarios. similarly, I don't think reading jon as an addict implies that addiction inherently involves violence or that the reactions of those around him were completely unjustified, it's just a subjective exploration of the kinds of fears that can come with addiction dialed up to 100.

[urhoneycombwitch]

plan b

___

foreword: thank you to this anon, this was just the right amount of sitcom Spider-man pointing meme-ery that I needed. wrote this with husky!neighbor!Eddie since I thiiiink I’ve established that version of him is modern so hopefully this aligns with my made-up canon. lol.

wc: 1.9k

cw: weight mention (in the context of finding meds, no numbers used), embarrassment on R’s end of kink discussion, frenemies vibes between R and Eddie (they get under each other’s skin but in a hot way <3), Eddie is soft-domming in public, no actual smut but still +18 mdni

DISCLAIMER: Plan B can really fuck your shit up and shouldn’t necessarily be used when introducing new kinks. Please do your research and consult w/ a medical professional before using. Putting the fiction in fic with this one.

_____

Christ, there are too many options.

Your vision is swimming in the Family Planning aisle, fluorescent overheads of the CVS taking up residence in your left temple.

You press your fingertips against the spot, massaging gently as you pull different brands of boxes from the shelf to inspect the instructions.

This one says take within twenty-four hours, that might be- oh, shit, there’s a weight cap. Dammit. And this one’s… twice the price? For fucking why?

Frustrated, you shove the expensive thing back in place. The words on the blue label next in line catches your eye- Pre-Seed Fertility Lubricant- and you snap your hand away, as if scorched. Nope. Opposite of what you need. Christ. Pre-Seed?!

It’s almost giggle-worthy. You take out your phone, glancing up and down the aisle; the store is empty this late at night, just an older woman behind the front registers who had greeted you earlier with bored corporate formality, eyes fixed on her magazine.

Picture of Pre-Seed, taken. Check that one off the list. The only person who you’d want to share a laugh over text about this with is the one person who does not need to know why you’re in the goddamn Family Planning aisle at ten PM. On a Thursday.

At least, not yet. You lock your phone, pocketing it before zeroing in on the purple and green-themed Plan B that boasts One Tablet, One Step.

Although it’s pricier than some of the other morning-after pills, it’s the only one that you feel fully confident about buying. You give the box a little toss, feeling the next-to-nothing weight of it in your palm. Fifty bucks for a tiny pill, one that you may not even end up using- but you’ll be goddamned if you’re caught unprepared.

“Can I help you find anything?”

Your blood flashes cold, then hot, as you realize who the voice belongs to- attention focused elsewhere, you didn’t hear Eddie sidling up the aisle until now.

He’s leaning into his arm on the nearest shelf, grinning wolfishly at his own joke, chocolate eyes lit up at having found you here. He looks obscene- biceps and chest bulging at the stretched fabric of his t-shirt, hair unspooling dark curls from a low bun, black ink tattoos rippling over his bare forearms and peeking out from beneath his collar.

Honestly, you don’t know why he wasn’t stopped at the door by the woman on night shift. He’s bordering public indecency with those fitted Levi’s alone.

Fortunately the shock of hearing Eddie’s low voice is not enough to send the Plan B in your hand flying- too late to reshelve it without him seeing, you cling to it tighter, plastic creaking under your grip as you pray to every god ever that he doesn’t notice.

“Oh! Hey. Hi. Haha, very funny.” Well, that was smooth, but at least you said something comprehensible. “What’re you doing here?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss, using his free arm to reach for a pack of condoms near your head- “Late night shopping. Stocking up for the weekend. Can’t seem to keep these around, seeing as I’m being fucked out of house and home.”

”Well… apartment,” you correct, heart leaping at the smile lines that jump around Eddie’s eyes. This is good, maybe you can just keep him talking and find a second to shove the Plan B into a random spot or perhaps launch it into the sun-

Nope, too late. Mid-crinkle, Eddie’s eyes drop to the package in your hand, and you watch his face drop as he processes multiple trains of thought at once.

“Oh, shit. Is that… did we…?”

There’s a pinch between his dark brows, likely running through the last few weeks of your hookups (which have all been protected) and trying to do the mental math; you shake your head, trying to stammer through the flush of embarrassment that’s overtaking your system.

“No, it’s not- not from us. Not from you. I mean…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably from one sneaker to the other as words hit a jam in your throat.

Eddie’s in a full frown now, pushing off the shelf, standing to his full height, confusion and hurt seeping into his expression, voice quiet and pitched deep- “Is it from someone else?”

“Oh my god.” This was a nightmare, right? You’d like to wake up now. “No, no, not from anyone else. It’s-”

A sharp exhale, a shake of your head, and the words loosen all at once- “I was gonna get it for us, for me, for this weekend, if you wanted to give me a reason to use it.”

Eddie goes as still as you’ve ever seen him before, fingers stopped in their usual constant tapping, blinking at the box in your hands.

His face smooths.

Then he smiles.

Your stomach flips.

Eddie slides the condoms back into the wrong spot, not bothering to look as he leans in close enough for you to smell the spice of his cologne as he says in a sex-dipped timbre: “Well if you wanted me to fill you up with my cum, why didn’t you just say so?”

A horrified, awkward squawk escapes before you can bite it back; your head whips down the aisle to make sure no one else was within earshot of his dirty mouth as you blindly shove the Plan B away, deep into a shelf. “Oh my god. Jesus christ.”

”Eddie is just fine,” he responds mildly, the cool demeanor to your rapidly heating one as his grin simmers wicked between dimpled cheeks.

“Forget it,” you start, shaking your head and making to brush past, embarrassment flooding in hot, “Just forget-”

Eddie catches you by the elbow, effectively locking you in place with a single move, but he’s not looking at you; with his free hand, he snaps up the slightly crumpled box and scans the words.

“Y’think one will be enough?”

The flood subsides, gives you pause enough to stutter out, “W-what?”

Eddie’s fingers flex on your arm. He turns the box over in his big hand, rings glinting. “We’d better get two. Just in case.”

Your skin feels the impression of his palm even after he lets go, like a Polaroid in rapid reverse as he grabs a second box, warmth fading fast from your skin. “I don’t think- I mean, that’s not how they work, I should probably find a more permanent sol-”

“Just for the weekend.” His eyes are back on you now, self-satisfied smirk giving way to something darker, more intense. “Yeah?”

A shiver casts goosebumps down the length of your body. He’s goddamn toying with you, in the middle of a fucking CVS. Despite your flare of irritation, you nod, voice nearly a croak as you echo, “Yeah.”

The grin lights up his face again. “Good girl.”

Eddie doesn’t give you time to react to this (verbally, anyways- your cunt is most certainly responding to the praise despite your best efforts to remain unaffected), using one large hand to hold both boxes and another to press at the small of your back, leading you down the aisle.

Truthfully, you’re grateful for the help (regardless of his dominance-based tendencies that don’t usually get you this easy); based on the ringing in your ears, you’re doubtful of your own ability to navigate the maze of aisles.

Eddie walks you both to the front register, and you watch as if outside of your own body while the cashier scans the barcodes and Eddie swipes his card.

He pockets the receipt, slides a finger through the handles of the plastic bag, and holds it out between your bodies. Right in front of the goddamn cashier.

”For you.”

This brings you back to yourself, a bit, mortification giving way to annoyance (a much more useful emotion in this scenario), and you snatch it to your chest. It’s your turn to grab Eddie’s elbow, half-dragging him towards the exit.

“Come again soon,” the cashier calls, still in monotone.

So close. You’re less than a yard away from the sliding glass doors that would have swallowed Eddie’s reply- but as it stands, he gets in one last cheerful wave, an award-winning, dimple-charmed smile to match his bright response.

“She will!”

Damn him. You give a final tug and you’re both out in the parking lot, glass doors closing automatically with a whoosh behind you, cool night air kissing at your cheeks.

”Seriously?” You’re mature enough to recognize that your anger is misplaced, adrenaline-fueled, but that doesn’t stop you from whirling on Eddie, giving his shoulder a sharp shove that (unfortunately, tantalizingly) doesn’t move him an inch. “I can never return to this fucking store. Thanks for that.”

Eddie really doesn’t help his case, grin turned shit-eating as he rustles through his various pockets for his pack of cigarettes- “Careful, sweetheart- you know how hot and bothered I get when you’re mad.”

”Unbelievable.” You turn on a swift heel, slipping the bag loops up your arm to dig for your keys. “You just got me blacklisted from our local drugstore and you don’t even care.”

There’s the snick of a lighter behind you, while your car a few spaces down chirrups and blinks in response to the furious press of your fob’s unlock button.

Eddie chuckles, sardonic and unsympathetic. “Too bad this is the only CVS in the whole world. I think you’ll live, princess.”

Ignoring this, you stomp towards your car, petulant, bag rustling; the door is half-open when Eddie calls, “So, are you coming over tonight, or what?”

“Obviously!”

The door slams with more force than you intend, sound ricocheting across the lot.

From the respite of your tinted windows, you watch as a streetlamp-haloed Eddie takes a drag from a cigarette, smoke drifting thick around a hazy visage of the hottest man alive. (Maybe you’re a touch biased. But your opinion is based on personal accounts, so fuck the naysayers.)

He tips his head back to look at the stars, pale column of throat illuminated- with a flush of realization, you scoff. He’s putting on a show for you.

Two can play, you think, driving your seatbelt into place with a click. But first I’m gonna have to make a stop at home. Namely for new undies.

[erinawritesheadcanons2]

Hello, I came because I was looking for things about creepypasta, it's been so long that I really think it's already a little dead- and I saw your writing about them so I came to ask something about that if you still write for them well am I lucky? Anyway, here I go…

slenderman with someone who hangs on him like a koala-

you can include his reaction when it first happened if you want

Slenderman, Jason The Toy Maker, Laughing Jack and Splendorman with S/O who Hangs On Them Like a Koala

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A/N: Thank you Anon for requesting this HCS! I'm sorry for the long update, it has been such a hectic day because of college and research. I hope you understand! Also, this is one of the funniest requests I have received and this makes my day. Thank you for requesting.

Gender: Neutral

Warning: None except profanities

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Slenderman

It is canon that Slenderman is very tall, above than ten feet tall so it was no wonder many people are scared of this faceless creature and no one has a gut to mess with him.

So it is no surprise that you are imagining yourself hanging onto your romantic partner like a monkey that is hanging onto a tree, it is quite an amusing sight.

Because of these thoughts, you finally have the courage to do it just to see your boyfriend's reaction if you are hanging onto him and latching him like a koala would.

Slenderman's first-time reaction when you hung onto his arm like a koala, he was not only surprised but he was also quite confused about why are you hanging onto his arms.

"Darling, why are you hanging into my arms like this. Do you realize that...I am not a tree?" He raised his unexistent eyebrows in confusion.

The second time you are latching up to him and hanging onto his arms like a koala. He is not as much as surprised as before but he was still confused like the first time you were hanging onto his arm before.

"Why do you hang onto his arms like that? Is there any purpose? Or are you just bored and want to entertain yourself by clinging to my arm?" That is mostly what would Slenderman ask himself when looking at you while you are still hanging onto him.

As time goes by and you're always latching up to his arms like a koala would, he would just gonna let you be even though it would annoy him sometimes when he is busy.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

Having Slenderman as your romantic partner has its own perks, especially if you are a book and literature lover because your boyfriend does collect some fiction books with great plot stories and characters. You have free access to your boyfriend's private library and his office room without getting killed in the place.

However, that does not mean you can be fully entertained even if you have this access and you need more than just Reading books to make yourself not get bored. The poor (Y/N) NEED more, it could be going outside and wandering around in the forest, interacting with the other proxies, or anything that just can kill your boredom.

The grandpa clock on the wall still ticking painfully and Slenderman is busy reading the books that he got from stealing other creatures' libraries, for what? Who knows, you never understand your boyfriend's mindset and goal.

Not wanting to die out of boredom, an idea popped and crossed into your mind and the corner of your lips tugged upwards but it was stopped immediately by Slenderman's words."(Y/N) darling, please don't even think like that. I am busy reading this book and don't bother me." But that did not stop the (Y/N) (L/N). Walking very slowly towards your tall faceless boyfriend, there was a buzzing noise in (Y/N)'s head but she/he/they decide to ignore the sound as it gets louder and louder whereas you were getting closer to the faceless giant in front of you. Without any second thought, you leapt into the air as the calves of your legs used as a spring.

"(Y/N)-!" Slenderman accidentally threw his book away seeing you suddenly tackling him. Both of your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso as well as both of your legs. An innocent smile adorned across of your face with a twinkle in both of your eyes that shows 'mischief." He was standing there, frozen in surprise seeing you acting like this but it did not last long before Slenderman takes a deep breath.

"Fine....just don't bother me while I'm reading," Slenderman mutters.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

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Splendorman

Now Splendorman may be as tall as his older but he was a little bit shorter than his faceless stuck-up brother so it also means you can hang onto your boyfriend, Splendorman.

Unlike his brother, Splendorman has also more patience than his brother so it was no surprise that you didn't get unpunished by his reaction when you were hanging onto his arms.

There would be even a time he is encouraging you to climb him and then hanging onto his arms like a koala, then. He would laugh because he thinks it was rather funny.

The first time this happens, Splendorman was very surprised by you climbing and hanging onto his arms like a koala. He did not expect it but he did not mind it instead, he find this sight amusing.

He could not help but let out some small giggles here and there while watching you do that. he thinks you look adorable like this and even sometimes even offers you some candy while you are climbing his arms.

Not only he does gives candy to you to make you happy but he also swings his arms gently to rock you if you are getting bored and need some kind of challenge, he wong swings too hard to make you fall off.

He won't get annoyed like Slenderman does if you keep swinging or climbing him like a Koala every day, he just genuinely thinks you are bored and need entertainment or be affectionate.

Thus, if you want to cling to someone like a koala? It is better having him as the 'tree'. He genuinely thinks you look cute doing this to him.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

Lights are everywhere inside the carnival as well as sounds of people chattering around despite the sound was not from a real human. Those loud and lingering sounds actually came from the radio and the speaker just to make the carnival less lonely. A certain peculiar person with (H/C) hair colour and (E/C) eye colour had a date with a certain smiling man.

The two of you hold hands together with a blush adorning both of your cheeks, smiling happily and walking with the certain giant with a polka dot suit. He has been spoiling you since Valentine's day and today he brought you to his personal carnival which is less creepy than Laughing Jack's carnival.

"(Y/N) Sweetiepie. I have a surprise for you but you need to close your eyes and follow me," Splendorman's grin widened.

"What kind of surprise?" You ask him.

"Oh honey, it's a surprise. If I tell you, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore," he puffs both of his cheeks playfully, making himself look like a squirrel.

"Alright, fine. Just don't give me a poisonous candy like that jerk, Laughing Jack," you told him

"I promise I won't," he gently put the blindfold over of your eyes before tying the end of the cloth.

His large and cold hands gently held both of your smaller hands before gently pulling you, "Follow me..." he whispers. Believing your boyfriend, you began stepping forward and following his voice as well as his lead, wondering what kind of surprise he is going to give you.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

It was quite a long walk and (Y/N) could feel both of their/her/his feet began aching in pain after a long stroll together with Splendorman. His voice reaches out to your ears once the two of you stop together, "Now, you can open the blindfold." Your heart began beating like crazy as if it was just gonna pop out of nowhere but you knew Splendorman will never endanger you in any way.

Lowering the blindfold carefully, both of your eyes widen in surprise to see several boxes laid on top of the tables with a pair of chairs facing each other. Of course near the table, there is an enormous teddy bear holding a red heart with a written 'I love you.'

(Y/N) could not help but the smile across your face brightens seeing all of the surprises that Splendorman gave you before you jump up to your boyfriend, squealing in happiness and wrapping your arms around his torso, nuzzling your head on the crook of his neck and hugging him as if he was a soft teddy bear.

The smiling man could not help but he was utterly surprised seeing your reaction but it did not last long as a chuckle escapes from his throat, wrapping his tendrils and arms around you and hugging you closer before his lips placed on top of the crown of your head, "I'm glad you like it, (Y/N)."

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Laughing Jack

Laughing Jack might be one of the tallest proxies in the mansion among the killers after Splendorman and Slenderman but he's also a little bit shorter than them.

Thus, he is also can be climbed like a tree and hugging him like a koala when you are getting bored. Unlike Slenderman, he did not find this strange.

He also did not find it annoying either. Just like Splendorman, he thinks this sight might be really amusing because he did not think you are going to pull this kind of stunt.

However, he is not as nice as Splendorman who he just gonna let you be hanging onto him like a koala peacefully. Nope, Laughing Jack can be a little bit of an ass.

The reason I am saying this is because he will in fact gonna swing your pretty hard just to scare you off and pretend he will gonna drop you just for shit giggles.

Oh, you are still not getting scared by that prank that he just pull out on you? he will do so much worse than just swinging you hard. Laughing Jack would even try to tickle you out of nowhere until you laugh your ass off and let him go.

He's not going to be ass forever though so don't worry about him keep being an annoying piece of shit. WHen he was nice, he would offer you a candy that is not poisonous and save for you to eat.

Sometimes would let you hang onto him while he is watching his favorite shows and would be sweet enough for cuddling you closer to his arms

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it was never a boring day having Laughing Jack as your boyfriend, he always had a bright idea to make the day more fun and enjoyable despite it can be sometimes really chaotic and could make Slenderman angry because of the mess. But it did not last long until recently.

Today there's supposed to be a mission given by the faceless man to you and your boyfriend by killing people who found out about their secret but those people already got handled by Jeff and Eyeless Jack on the day beforehand so the two of you had a free time after all of those dramas.

(Y/N) and Laughing Jack currently sitting on the couch together with the middle of the sofa are a bowl of wrapped hard candies that Laughing Jack had made for you and himself while watching whatever in front of the TV.

Both of the lids of (Y/N) eyes were getting heavy and heavier with each second, the boredom slowly going to kill them/her/him and going to make (Y/N) fall asleep at any second whereas the certain clown enjoys the horror show about a clown dismembering children. It's not really a TV show, it was a recorded video of him torturing children.

But it did not last long as your eyes opened once again and both of (E/C) eye colours landed on the monochrome clown who keeps giggling like a madman and an idea popped across your mind. The clown did not notice that you were moving very slowly, getting closer to him with each second.

BAM!

Laughing Jack yelped and then his eyes shited at the certain (H/C) hair-coloured killer who already tackling him down. Both of her/his/their arms wrapped around the monochrome clown torso and a smile danced across of (Y/N)'s face. Instead of getting angry, Laughing Jack laughed out loud, seeing what (Y/N)'s just did was hella hilarious.

"HAHAHAHAHA! YOU LOOK LIKE A KOALA!" He pointed out.

"I'm aware of that," you retaliate, popping the tongue out from your mouth.

"Hehehe, were you bored? I'm sorry my little kitten getting bored," he said before one of his fingers took one of the candies and put the sweet inside of your mouth. Accepting his gesture, your lips parted away and let the sweet glide inside of your mouth with a lemon-like flavour covered your whole mouth.

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Jason the Toymaker

Just like Laughing Jack, Jason the Toymaker might be a little bit calmer than Laughing Jack but that doesn't mean he hates physical touch, especially by you.

He might be not as tall as Slenderman and Splendorman but his height is almost the same as Laughing Jack (Which means, he is quite really tall).

So seeing you hanging onto him and cuddling him like a a koala latching on the tree makes his cold heart box melt seeing you like this.

Although he does finds it a little bit weird you're doing this because just like 'Am I really climbable? Why is (Y/N) clinging to my arms like a koala?'

Cuz he never sees adults doing this, he only sees kids doing this and his ex-friend too but that girl was when she was still a kid too although he did not mind it in the end.

He's less of a jerk like Laughing Jack because he's not going to scare you off on purpose just for shit and giggles but he does find it annoying if you do this when he is trying to make a doll.

Just don't hang onto him like a koala when he's working or he will give the scariest glare at you before he kicks you out of his room for distracting him from his job.

Overall, just like a Splendorman and Laughing Jack but much calmer than the two of them. Loves you when you're clingy like this, especially when the two of you hanging out together.

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Tonight was the day after all of the children he had brought turned into a doll and the certain doll maker finally had free time to hang out together with his S/O. Sweats have been trickling down from the scalp of his forehead and those dolls got sent away. Jason the Toymaker is definitely tired after all of the missions that Slenderman has given to him.

He could not wait to just hang out with you and spend the rest of the time together doing something relaxing or maybe going out to ease his upcoming headache. The certain red-haired killer trudges slowly from the abandoned hallway and leaves the dark hallway before he went to the closest room which is the living room.

Inside the living room, he can see the certain killer with (H/C) hair colour with a (H/L) Hair length, the particular person also has a pair of (E/C) eye colours as well as (S/C) skin colour on the screen in front of them/her/him. (Y/N) could not help but yawn as their/her/his finger keeps pressing on the button of the remote TV, keep changing the channels to find an interesting show but none of them made you get excited enough.

Jason could not help but silently chuckles as he sees your condition, he found it was a little bit funny but also a little bit sad that you're bored out of your mind. Even the news that shows the recent kill that proxies had done did not make (Y/N) giddy at all. Instead, it makes (Y/N) yawn harder than before.

Jason slowly approaches you as your ears pick up the sound of his footsteps getting closer to you and your eyes shifted to the certain toymaker. Despite he was grinning creepily, it was just his happy smile as he sees you, "Are you bored, darling?" Jason the Toymaker asks.

You did not say anything to him but to answer his question, you gave him a brief nod before you shifted your butt away from the couch, letting your boyfriend sit next to you. But your next action made the poor red-haired killer startled a little bit. Both of your arms wrapped around his shoulder with legs also wrapped around his waist, gently placing your head on his cold shoulder and nuzzling your head on the crook of his neck.

"Uhh..darling? What are you doing??" he asks, raising his eyebrows a little bit but also smiling a little bit, finding this scene to be amusing.

"Hanging to you like a koala...now shut up," you mumble.

Hearing your answer, Jason could not help but rolls his green eyes playfully at you before he places his long slender fingers on top of your hand, gently giving a soothing rub on the back of your head. He's glad that you're acting a little bit clingy today despite you look like a koala hanging onto him.

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[cantheykillmacbeth]

In Shakespeare's Macbeth, there is a prophecy made to the eponymous Macbeth that "no man of woman born can kill him." Ultimately, Macbeth ends up being killed by MacDuff, who sidesteps the prophecy due to being a C-section baby.

With the wording of this prophecy, it can be said that quite a few fictional characters could, theoretically, kill Macbeth if they wanted to. Several factors could make you exempt from this prophecy: being any gender other than a man; not being conventionally "born"; and birthing parent is not a woman. Here are the three main criteria that will be analyzed for a character:

Gender Clause: A character applies for this Clause when they do not identify with the term "man" in reference to themselves. Inversely, the are disqualified from this Clause if they do identify with the term "man." Since characters' gender identities are rarely looked this far into, it will be assumed that if a character uses strictly he/him pronouns, then he will be disqualified for this Clause by default.

Unconventional Birth Clause: A character applies for this Clause if their inception was done in some way other than a conventional live birth. This could mean they were extracted via c-section, delivered posthumously, hatched from an egg, manually constructed, etc.

Birth Parent Clause: A character applies for this Clause when the person attributed to their creation does not identify with the term "woman." This functions similarly to the way that we handle the Gender Clause.

Unique Exception: This is used for any character with some other loophole, such as being able to canonically change the path of fate.

Google Doc Link for all characters already covered

FAQ under the cut, PLEASE READ BEFORE SUBMITTING:

Why isn't there a Species Clause?: A character's species is not taken into account for the "man" portion of the prophecy, as a character of a different species can still identify as a man. Why isn't there an Age Clause?: Unless the character specifically says that they are not a "man," but a "boy," (See: Peter Pan) then a young male character will still be disqualified for the Gender Clause. How would a genderfluid/trans character be counted?: Whether or not a character applies for the Gender Clause is determined by how they personally identify at that specific time. A genderfluid character could kill Macbeth one day, but not the next; a trans woman could kill Macbeth, but a trans man could not. Who runs this blog?: We currently have 2 members, Mod Anthem and Mod Pepper. Mod Anthem made the blog initially, and Mod Pepper is its sister here to help. Mod Anthem also runs @periodiccompletionist Could the owner of this blog kill Macbeth?: Yes, I apply for the Gender Clause due to being a demiboy(? it's complicated) who does not identify with the term man. How do I know if a character has been done already?: I tag all submissions with the character's name and associated fandom. You can also check the Google Doc linked above the cut. Could [character] kill Macbeth?: This is what the ask box is for! Feel free to submit whoever you want when it's open. Is the ask box open?: Check my bio for ask box status updates. :) I sometimes close it to work through backlog, and have anon turned off to cut down on the amount of asks coming in. Can I submit real people?: Yes, but I will most likely not give an answer in my post; these sorts of details are often highly personal, so I will not be doing research on them for this without their consent. If they're on Tumblr, they can respond to the post itself and give the definitive answer if they so choose. What should I do if I have a correction/rebuttal to a post?: Please do this in a reblog instead of an ask/DM/reply; it makes things much easier for me. My submission didn't get answered. Should I submit it again?: I would strongly advise against it. It's most likely that I didn't answer it for one of the following reasons: I haven't gotten to it yet through the backlog; it's a real person not on Tumblr; the character/media was too difficult to research (I'm not going to be reading/watching through the actual source material, sorry); the character/media makes me personally uncomfortable; or someone has already submitted your character. If you're REALLY curious about what happened to your ask, you can send me a DM and I will give you the reason why or tell you if I didn't receive it. Are you dead?: No, I just have ADHD. Errm, actually, wasn't the prophecy just a trick to fuel Macbeth's hubris?: Great job, you just defeated the entire point of this blog! What the hell do expect me to do with that information? Delete my account?? Ruiner of the spirit. Jarvis, piss this guy's pants. How do you pronounce axolotl?: a-SHOW-loa(tl). (tl) represents a sound that we don't have in english, but is commonly used in native Nahuatl.

What media properties should I avoid submitting?: Dialtown (makes me uncomfortable), Homestuck (personal reasons), Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss (or anything vivziepop-related), Harry Potter (JK Rowling is a bitch and I'm the only god here), Slay the Princess (want to play; avoiding spoilers), Hades II (want to play, avoiding spoilers), FNAF (you actually can submit this one but be aware that you will not view me the same afterwards also all my homies hate Scott Cawthon)

[crushribbons]

𝔟𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔥

summary: It's hard for Don Hume to talk about awkward subjects.

cw: 5k words, established relationship fluffiness, SMUT (18+ ONLY), protected penetrative sex, fingering, light choking (monkey covering eyes emoji), barely edited, definitely not researched, fem reader/OC, this is a work of fiction about the character from tbitb and not the actual historical figure (like duh). based off an anon request.

a/n: but daddy i love him!!!! xx laney

Don handed the vendor a few coins and accepted the rose the man passed him. He turned and handed it to her, and she blushed.

“Stop spending all your money on me,” she scolded gently, running her fingertips over the delicate scarlett petals. 

Don simply said, “No,” and offered her his elbow, which she took with a shake of her head and a laugh. Don Hume must have been born under the sign of the bull, warm and stubborn as he was.

“You’re going to have to sell that gold medal soon enough,” she teased. Don shrugged and the two continued walking down the street. It was twilight, and fireflies were blinking lazily around their heads as street lights turned on and the city lane bustled with nightlife. Dim green flickers illuminated his hazel eyes, usually downcast but twinkling tonight. She nestled herself against the strong arm holding hers and enjoyed the scent of rain that seemed to waft off him permanently. 

When she’d first told him, in their biology lecture, how lovely he smelled, the pure bemusement on his face had been more than enough to send her flying head over heels for the presumed-mute rower. 

“I don’t…own any cologne,” he’d replied after several minutes, choking out the words under his breath with great difficulty while the lecturer droned on, heedless to the many slumbering students that were snoring along to his lesson. 

“Well, I guess you just smell good, then,” she’d said. They had turned back to their notebooks and pens. It took Don three and a half more months and qualifying for the Olympics to ask her to dinner, but she patiently sat through every “Would you…um…ah, never mind…” until the blessed day when he finally got all the words out in the correct order. 

He’d been a combination of too embarrassed and too violently anxious to let her kiss him goodbye when he boarded the train for the team’s trip to Berlin. They had stood on the platform in front of the passenger car, a miserable Don muttering under his breath. She was fussing with his tie and blazer, struggling not to be battered around by the throng of well-wishers seeing the boys off, when his eyes suddenly widened and he said, “I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are. Stop moving, the knot still looks wrong.”

“No,” He shook his head, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance where his inevitable demise awaited him. “No, what if I screw this up for everyone?”

She finished wrestling his tie into a passable windsor knot and stepped back from him, smoothing off his blazer. “And what if you win?”

“I–”

“Donald, do not pick now to be the first time you argue with me.” She smiled and his knees, already jelly from nerves and anticipation, seemed just about ready to give way. “But, you should know: I don’t much care for silver jewelry,” she whispered, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. His face burned a bashful red where she’d touched it that spread down over his neck. 

One thing she could never accuse Don of was not listening to her. He made note of her distaste for silver and brought her gold, instead.

As they walked down the street arm in arm, her chatting about everything he’d missed in his time away and him listening placidly, she couldn’t stop herself from just staring at him. Spending time with Don made her feel like she was getting a glimpse into a private world that no one else was privy to, and she felt privileged by it. He kept everything about himself, including his countless victories, so wrapped up and tucked away that sometimes, it was hard for her to remember that he wasn’t just your average undergraduate. No one they passed by on the street would have been able to guess that the man next to her was a world-renowned athlete. No one, absolutely no–

“Hey, look who it is!” Joe Rantz and Joyce Simdars were strolling towards them, a mirror image of the puppy love their friends were wrapped up in. Joyce squealed and ran to her sorority sister, who threw her arms around Joyce’s neck and told her how pretty she looked. The two boyfriends exchanged knowing looks and shook hands with each other, immediately falling into a discussion of the crew practice they’d had that afternoon. 

Joyce stopped complimenting her friend’s dress to scowl at Joe and scold, “No strategizing on our date night, dear.”

“Yes, dearest,” Joe responded with understated exaggeration and the utmost devotion. The two ladies turned back to each other and began chattering about school and social events, but when she caught a snatch of the conversation the boys were having, she strained to tune into it. 

“Hey, no, come on,” Don was mumbling and he looked down at the ground and kicked at some invisible nuisance. 

Joe was clearly ribbing him. He poked at his solemn teammate’s shoulder and said something that she couldn’t make out over Joyce’s explanation of the party she was planning for the team now that they were stateside once more. Don shook his head adamantly in response, and Joe chuckled. 

She craned her neck as subtly as she could while still appearing engaged with Joyce, a vapid smile in place as she tried in desperation to catch what the two men were talking about that was making Don more uncomfortable than he’d been that night Bobby forced him to play piano for half their class. Only bits and pieces from Joe reached her ears: “Well, maybe…why not?...Sure, she would…” Her espionage was abruptly shut down as Joe reached over to pinch Joyce’s cheek. “Hate to break this up, but the film starts at 8:00, honey.” 

Joyce gasped and looked down at her watch. “We’ve got to go! I’ll see you,” she promised, and the two girls exchanged hugs and kisses. The couple wiggled their fingers as they passed them and bid them goodnight. 

Don was staring at Joe’s back when his girl tucked her hand back in the crook of his arm and asked, “What all were you two talking about?” He squirmed and didn’t answer. They resumed walking, so she allowed a few more paces before she asked again. 

“Nothin’, nothin’,” he said, shaking his head again to indicate the finality of his refusal to answer. She bopped him gently on his nose with the rose. 

“Tell me!” “It wasn’t proper, you know,” Don coughed and cleared his throat. “For a lady to hear.” He glanced at her nervously, like perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned that she was a lady. 

She sighed. “And what about for me to hear?” Her boyfriend’s mouth moved like a fish’s, opening and closing without sound, searching for any word at all that would end this line of questioning. “Tell meee!”

He threw his hands up, a tiny movement but so unbearably dramatic for him. “No! Ask him yourself if you wanna know!” “Fine!” She turned around and inhaled as if she was fixing to scream down the block, knowing it would scare the living daylights out of him. “Hey, J–!”

Don gave a small cry of despair and wrenched her along by her shoulders so she would continue walking with him. “Okay, okay! I’ll tell you.” She didn’t hide her giggle of triumph from him, and he looked like he wanted to remain frustrated, but just couldn’t. He looked around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard, then took a deep breath and spat out in one mortified mumble, “He just asked if we h-had, if we were going to, if we’d slept together, alright?” It seemed he was one more embarrassment away from being sick all over the sidewalk.

Her eyebrows were raised when he finally worked up the nerve to look at her. “Oh, is that all?” 

Don was horrified. “All?” he repeated in an incredulous whisper. She had to smile. 

“Come now, everyone does it, Donny!” She paused a beat while considering her next words. Her deliberation led her to the conclusion that they would make her boyfriend blush oh-so-prettily. “Joyce tells me about her and Joe all the ti–” The closest thing to a whimper she’d ever heard come out of Don Hume’s mouth came out of his mouth. “It’s nothing bad!” she reassured him quickly. “All nice things and nothing too intimate! Girlfriends just share with each other. Don’t you and the boys ever chat about things like that?” She remembered who she was talking to and sighed. “Never mind.” 

His face was contorting painfully, like it couldn’t decide what emotion to land on. He shoved both his hand into his pockets, inadvertently pinning her arm to his side, and mumbled, “Well, anyway. I didn’t share anything.” 

There’s not much to share yet, she thought, but to Don she said, “Such a gentleman,” and laid her head on his shoulder. It had been one month since he’d asked her to dinner and five days since he’d been back from Berlin, and she thought she very well might die if they didn’t, well, give Joe something to tease Don about further. 

Their first piece of affection that wasn’t a timid peck on the cheek had come as Don had pushed his way wordlessly through the gargantuan crowd at Washington State welcoming the team home from their gold medal win, locked in on the tiny sliver of forehead he could make out bouncing up and down slightly in excitement. When he had finally reached her, he stooped to cradle the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss that almost knocked her unconscious. As he’d pulled away, he’d whispered bluntly, “I missed you.” 

Since then, she’d been able to do little else than think about the way he’d held her, the way his mouth felt on hers. But the aggressively respectful stroke had hardly touched her since. He walked her to her doorstep after every date, spent whatever sparse pocket change he had on her without thought, and carried a tiny picture of her face (that he had cut out of the school newspaper article on her sorority’s spring benefit) in his wallet. 

And she was sleeping with a photograph of him in his first Olympic race, face a knot of concentration and exertion, sweat-slicked hair hanging in his eyes, lean muscle evident in every line of his body. And it wasn’t so she had sweet dreams about him. 

She was mortified by her actions, that she couldn’t control herself the way Don could. Every time he dropped her off, she imagined him saying, “Actually, I don’t give a damn about your reputation or protecting your heart. I’d so much rather just see you without clothes on,” but, unsurprisingly, he never did. It was part of the reason she’d fallen for him, and part of the reason she now wanted to throttle a little passion into him. 

She closed her eyes and hummed a silent meditation on patience while Don stopped to look in the window of a hardware store. He was peering into the closed shop, scanning their aisles with an interest that only the son of a hardware store owner could exhibit, when they both spoke at the same time.

“We are going to sleep together, though, aren’t we?”

“This place never keeps enough varnish in stock.” 

They both blinked at each other, then spoke in unison once more.

“What?”

She colored, but held her resolve. “I mean, you do want to, right? With me?” Don’s shoulders were creeping up towards his ears, a defense mechanism learned from years of trying to remain as invisible as possible. He glanced wildly around the street, which was steadily emptying as the evening sky darkened further, as if enemy spies were going to leap out from behind a corner and arrest them for leaking government secrets. Cornered.

He stammered for a few, solid minutes. Patience, you are falling in love with this man and you will afford him the patience he deserves, she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. “You are not taking advantage of me by wanting to, darling,” she assured him, and reached up to smooth down Don’s jacket like she always did. The contact eased his breathing back to a healthy pace. “You know that, right?”

“Alright,” he said. But he still looked miserable while he searched for his next words. Her heart broke a little bit for her sweet and anxious lover.

“Do you want to just put this off ‘til later?”

The answer came back with more urgency than she’d ever seen Don use before. “No! No, I mean, no. We can…we should…” He trailed off and met her eyes for the first time since this awkwardness had begun, and decided that was enough. “Yeah, we should.” His shoulders dropped back down to their normal position.

She couldn’t fight the smile that pulled at her lips. “Oh, should we?” she asked through the grin. Don shot her a look that said please do not make me regret leaving the house today, an expression that was omni-present whenever Bobby Moch was around. God, he was adorable like this.

“So…” She swung her handbag back and forth and spoke as if they were discussing the weather. “Should we…tonight?” His eyes widened, betraying the fact that he clearly hadn’t even considered that as a possibility.

Don Hume, forever true to form, nodded.

They had to be careful. There were strict rules about boys in the girls’ student housing, but there were also generations’ worth of knowledge, passed down from resourceful and clever women, on how to evade those rules. Sneak in before the final lights out call, always use the front door instead of the side one where a disgruntled matron often sat up keeping watch, never let a guy accidentally leave his jacket behind. The network of girls that worked like a perfect underground railroad of boy smuggling came out in full force for the couple as they padded, silently and with shoes in hand, up the stairs to her dormitory bedroom. Sorority sister Betty was distracting the matron posted near the side door, bemoaning her period cramps and bursting into over-exaggerated meltdowns about how she’d never pass her history seminar or be asked out by Clark Gable. Don actually had to stifle a laugh as they both slipped into her empty bedroom and she shut the door behind them with the utmost care. 

“She’s good.”

“She owes me.” Don’s eyebrows rose, but he asked no further questions. He was standing across from her as she turned to him and pressed her back against the door, his hands once again in his pockets. The two stared at each other for a good long while. 

Finally, she figured it would be safe to remove her coat and hang it on the coat rack beside the door. The movement did not spook Don into running, so she threw her shoes to the ground, too. 

He was surveying the four beds in the room. “Which one’s yours?” he finally asked, breaking the tension that only she seemed to be feeling. She pointed towards the far bed on the left side of the room, the one made neatly with rose-printed sheets. “It’s nice.”

“Thank you,” she squeaked. They lapsed into silence again, and she wondered if Don was waiting until he was caught by a matron and cast out, avoiding this whole uncomfortable situation. Perhaps they shouldn’t have decided this so flippantly, maybe Don was the kind of man who needed–In two strides, he crossed the room to her and grabbed her neck the same way he had upon his return from the Olympics. She could only mumble “Oh,” before Don had his mouth pressed against hers. His kiss was hungry, hands suddenly eager to explore everywhere they’d never been. Her back was still pressed against the door when she pushed him away and ordered breathlessly, “Bed, go, now.”

Don hadn’t become the most famous stroke in the world by not taking orders well. He scooped her up in the bridal style, scaring a little yelp out of her that he quickly smothered by kissing her again. Her back hit the bed and she felt him awkwardly hover over her, their lips still locked together. She reached up for the length of his tie and pulled him down on top of her by it. 

He let out a short “Oof!” as he stumbled on top of her, but corrected himself in no time, swinging his legs on either side of hers. If I let Don be in charge here, she thought, while their tongues tangled together, we would be here all night. Actually, I could make peace with that. 

But she would have to make her peace another time, because they did not have all night tonight. They had maybe a comfortable twenty-minute cushion between Betty’s diversionary theatrics and the remaining time before the lights out rounds were made. And the way Don was making her feel, the inadvertent and desperate grinding against her…they certainly did not have all night. 

She pushed him up again, and this time, he actually made a noise of protest that some may have classified as a whine. His eyes searched her face frantically as she pulled herself out from under him, yanked his suit jacket off and tossed it to the ground, and told him to lay down on his back. His unquestioning obedience and the look he gave her as he settled on his back, ankles crossed, and began undoing his tie and shirt buttons made her core flood. She clutched a throw pillow for support as she watched him. 

Trying not to notice the way his cock was straining against his pants, she climbed her way up his frame, settling around his waist the way he had just done. Don’s freckles stood out on his rapidly pinking skin. She was leaning down to kiss him again when he blurted, “I love you!”

She snapped her neck back up like she’d been electrocuted and cried, “What?!”

Don flattened himself against the bed, like maybe she wouldn’t be able to see him if he was absorbed by the mattress. His chest and stomach were bare, and he looked mortified. The contrast of his sweet, abashed expression while he chewed the inside of his mouth and tried to babble an apology for declaring his love against his sinfully hot body beneath her made her head spin, and it was with no further hesitation that she blurted back, “I love you, too!”

He grinned in his own way, and his eyes pooled with affection. Of course she loved him; she was surprised it hadn’t occurred to her sooner. The second he’d stuttered his first failed attempt at flirting with her, she’d been a goner. Don sat up, gently shifting her so she was straddling him, and ran his hand through her hair. She waited for him to say something else, then remembered whose lap she was sitting in. 

“Weren’t we just in the middle of something?” she whispered into his lips, their noses now pressed together, and she felt his quirky, down-turned smile against hers.

“Were we?” 

“Donald Hume, you can be a tease sometimes.” She kissed him and he responded by snapping into action like the athlete he was, kissing her back and wrapping his arms around her. He pulled away to gaze up at her as she rose to her knees and began undoing the line of buttons that ran down the entire front of her dress. 

“Just tell me what to do, baby,” he said. A moan leaked out of her at the pure devotion and awe in his eyes. She let her dress fall down to the floor and stepped out of it, then indicated that he should sit back against the headboard. Don obliged, his breathing shallow and eyes huge as he took in the sight of her crawling back onto his lap. His rough fingers ghosted up her thighs when she sat down.

I’ve been an idiot, she mused, as she slowly worked the zipper on his pants down and pulled his already-dripping cock free. I should have pulled this mug into bed months ago. When she pulled her own undergarments off and Don’s eyes, on respectful instinct, flew shut, she laughed.

“You can look at me, Don,” she giggled. Her permission given, his eyes snapped back open and he drank in the sight of her, his hand skating up from her thighs to grasp every inch of skin that he could. Her cunt pressing against him was already dangerously wet, and she ground down hard, coaxing a strangled little “ah!” from him. 

Then reality bit into her ankle, and she groaned. “Do you have a rubber?” she asked through her hands after they had covered her face. If it was awkward for her to ask it, she couldn’t imagine what Don’s face must look like hearing it. He stammered for long enough for her to suss out the fact that he did not have one, and she was about to give up and fuck him anyway when she remembered that she lived with three other red-blooded women. “Oh!” she cried. “Wait, I know Betty has some.” 

Don, once more, asked no questions about what Betty got up to in her free time. He just looked terribly grateful for her as his lover emerged, victorious, from rummaging around the co-ed’s top dresser drawer with a box of Sheiks pinched in her fingers and a breathless glee on her face. She let him tug it on then decided they’d spent enough time dancing around their discomfort. 

“Come on,” she ordered, and climbed on top of him one last time. “I want you, Donny. Bad.”

“Oh, but aren’t you–” He held her in place while she tried desperately to line his cock up with her entrance. When his fingers pushed against her instead, swirling them inside her with his tongue trapped between his lips in concentration, she wondered if someone had broken in and switched places with her meek boyfriend. His doe eyes staring up at her, he begged in hardly above a whisper, “Please let me get you good and ready, please. I’m…” He trailed off and turned the brightest shade of red that she’d seen yet, and his gaze traveled down to the impressively large member between his legs. 

“You are big,” she agreed, and Don groaned and buried his face in her shoulder. “Baby, that’s not something to be embarrassed about,” she cried as she tried to yank him up by his hair and make him look her in the face. His fingers were still buried inside her, and even through his extreme shame at having a cock so big that it would hurt, he never stopped pumping them and drawing gasps and moans that she tried to stifle against his neck. He ground the heel of his calloused palm gently against her clit and caused her legs to tremble until she could no longer support herself on them and fell flush against his lap. 

She was a panting, crumpled mess folded up against his strong body, and she almost didn’t have it in her to roll her eyes when Don asked, “Was that alright?”

When she finally sank down onto him, he moaned, every inch of composure flying out of him. His posture, perfected from the long hours in the shell, sagged. “Oh, G–fuck,” he mumbled. It was the first time she’d ever heard him swear, and despite the pleasure that was making her eyes water, she almost laughed. Then his hands wrapped around her hips and lifted her up slightly and she felt the heavy drag of his cock inside her and a string of nonsense fell from her instead. She didn’t have to contribute in the slightest, in spite of her position straddling him. Don just bounced her up and down like she was nothing more than a vision he was having, and from the way his eyes were drifting heavenward, maybe she was. 

But he was still too much of a gentleman. “Faster,” she gasped, the fingers of her right hand wrapping unconsciously around the front of his neck to steady herself. 

“Are you coxxing me?” he huffed with a grin. The grin vanished when she squeezed a little and he felt the choke build up in his throat, his eyes rolling back for a second. The sight floored her.

“Oh, d-d’ya like…?” She tried to tease him but Don had started thrusting harder, grinding them both together like they’d never get the chance to do this again, and the words died on her tongue. Graciously, he tried to revive them by kissing her. He had to push hard against the hand on his throat, but he did it, never one to give up on anything. Pleasure was gagging the both of them, her as unable to form words as Don usually was. He pressed his forehead against hers and their breath mingled into one. 

“I l-love you, baby,” he said. She could tell his shyness and stoic composure were very nearly worn off now. She could tell it especially was when he started rambling, his nose bumping against her shoulder as he kept fucking her with relentless speed: “M’beautiful girl, beautiful, sweet girl. Ever since–first talked t’you, won every race for you, every stroke for you…wanted to make you proud…” He pulled his neck up with great effort and looked deep in her eyes. “Did I make you proud, baby?”

A cry tore its way out of her as his cock shredded against her just perfectly. She pushed Don back down on the bed and started riding him in earnest, wanting him to know exactly how he made her feel. Proud of him? It didn’t begin to cover how she’d felt when she’d heard the giddy announcer scream over the radio waves, “And it’s just come through, folks: AMERICA has taken the gold medal for rowing crew! What a spectacular display from our boys!” Don’s lips were pressed tightly together as he watched her chase down the knot of desire and pleasure that was building inside her.

“Don, I’ve never been more proud of anyone in my life, and I never will be,” she panted, scraping her nails down his defined pectorals and ignoring the cry of indignation he gave. A deep red blush blossomed under her fingers, dragging down to his stomach. She hadn’t broken skin, but the light pain had still made Don’s back arch in a very telling way. He looked a complete mess, quite unlike the man who had picked her up in front of her building four hours previously with hair neatly gelled and shabby suit jacket pressed. Now, thick strands of black hair fell all over his face as he sucked air into his deprived lungs. Her poor little bed frame creaked and groaned, protesting the activities taking place on top of it. Rusted springs provided an unwelcome soundtrack to their lovemaking, but she found that she didn’t even notice it. 

When she began rolling her hips in perfect rhythm with the thrusts he was giving from beneath her, his cock brushed against something inside of her that she’d never been acquainted with before, but the bliss that erupted from her toes to her fingertips made her throw her head back and cry his name hoarsely. The orgasm was unreal, blinding and satisfying and all due to the man between her legs who was currently trying very hard not to lose his mind at the sensation of her walls tightening around him. 

He kept his lips pressed together and his thrusts small and even until she’d recovered. Her legs had turned to jelly. Something mischievous whispered in her ear as she looked down at Don’s desperate, adorable face, and she took a leaf out of his book and obeyed it. 

She leaned forward, still sensitive as he thrust shallowly inside her, and wrapped both of her hands around his throat again. His eyes shut and his head lolled against the pillow, and within seconds he was giving a hoarse whimper and cumming. He sighed through the feeling, pumping his hips upward into her. “Fuck,” she whispered. All of him was hers, she realized with a jolt, as she looked down at Don’s sweat-slicked face and kiss-swollen lips. The realization was heavy and heady and made her want even more of him.

They laid next to each other for just a few seconds. She would have asked for hours more if she hadn’t known that they could be interrupted at any moment. Don’s chest rose and fell slowly now, his eyes unblinking. 

As usual, she spoke first. “That was wonderful.” Don rolled to his side so he could look at her and nodded, a dreamy little smirk on his lips that she very much wanted to kiss.  “I think I’ll write Joe a nice note thanking him.” He rolled back away from her and covered his face, groaning while she giggled. 

“I’m still not telling him anything,” he muttered when she got out of bed and began re-dressing and tossing his clothes back at him. He sat up and pulled the condom off, and she was grateful to see he had the good sense to wrap it in a tissue from her desk before disposing of it in the communal waste basket.

“Baby, you won’t have to.” Don followed her finger with his eyes to where it was pointing: the vivid red scratch marks carved down his torso from collarbone to abdomen, and he lept up, cursing.

“We have to take photographs in our uniforms tomorrow! They’ll show over my kit!” he cried, the most frantic and upset she’d ever seen him. She covered her grin with her hand.

“Well, save a print for me, won’t you?”

masterlist

[wrishwrosh]

hey, i find your posts about historical fiction pretty interesting, do you have any recs?

anon this is the most beautiful and validating ask i have ever received. absolutely of COURSE I have recs. not gonna be a lot of deep cuts on this list but i love all of these books and occasionally books do receive awards and acclaim because they are good. in no particular order:

the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. of course i gotta start with the og. it’s 40 million pages on the tudor court and the english reformation and it will fundamentally change you as a person and a reader

(sub rec: the giant, o’brien by hilary mantel. in many ways a much shorter thematic companion to the cromwell trilogy imo. about stories and death and embodiment and the historical record and 18th century ireland. if you loved the trilogy, read this to experience hils playing with her own theories about historical fiction. if you are intimidated by the trilogy, read this first to get a taste of her prose style and her approach to the genre. either way please read all four novels ok thanks)

lincoln in the bardo by george saunders. the book that got me back into historical fiction as an adult. american history as narrated by a bunch of weird ghosts and abraham lincoln. chaotic and lovely and morbid.

the everlasting by katy simpson smith. rome through the ages as seen by a medici princess, a gay death-obsessed monk, and an early christian martyr. really historically grounded writing about religion and power, and also narrated with interjections from god’s ex boyfriend satan. smith is a trained historian and her prose slaps

(sub rec: free men by katy simpson smith. only a sub rec bc i read it a long time ago and my memory of it is imperfect but i loved it in 2017ish. about three men in the woods in the post revolutionary american south and by virtue of being about masculinity is actually about women. smith did her phd in antebellum southern femininity and motherhood iirc so this book is LOCKED IN to those perspectives)

a mercy by toni morrison. explores the dissolution of a household in 17th century new york. very different place and time than a lot of morrison’s bigger novels but just as mean and beautiful

(sub rec: beloved by toni morrison. a sub rec bc im pretty sure everyone has already read beloved but perhaps consider reading it again? histfic ghost story abt how the past is always here and will never go away and loves you and hates you and is trying to kill you)

an artist of the floating world by kazuo ishiguro. my bestie sir kazuo likes to explore the past through characters who, for one reason or another (amnesia, dementia, being a little baby robot who was just born yesterday, etc), are unable to fully comprehend their surroundings. this one is about post-wwii japan as understood by an elderly supporter of the imperial regime

(sub rec: remains of the day by kazuo ishiguro. same conceit as above except this time the elderly collaborator is incapable of reckoning with the slow collapse of the system that sheltered him due to britishness.)

the pull of the stars by emma donoghue. donoghue is a strong researcher and all of her novels are super grounded in their place and time without getting so caught up in it they turn into textbooks. i picked this one bc it is a wwi lesbian love story about childbirth that made me cry so hard i almost threw up on a plane but i recommend all her histfic published after 2010. before that she was still finding her stride.

days without end by sebastian barry. this one is hard to read and to rec bc it is about the us army’s policy of genocide against native americans in the 19th century west as told by an irish cavalry soldier. it is grim and violent and miserable and also so beautiful it makes me cry about every three pages. first time i read it i was genuinely inconsolable for two days afterwards.

this post is long as hell so HONORABLE MENTIONS: the amazing adventures of kavalier & clay by michael chabon, the western wind by samantha harvey, golden hill by frances spufford, barkskins by annie proulx, postcards by annie proulx, most things annie proulx has written but i feel like i talk about her too much, the view from castle rock by alice munro, the name of the rose by umberto eco, tracks by louise erdrich

[traegorn]

This conversation with @ladykinrannoch just happened over on this post... and I'm just... exhausted.

How many times do I have to explain that not all witches are Wiccans. Or that non-Wiccans can't possibly give Wiccans a bad name... because they're not Wiccans.

(And I have no I idea why she's recommending a work of new age fiction to the anon for some reason too?)

Like folks come in hard, speaking from places of authority when they clearly haven't done the reading or research. Like spend five minutes online and you'll find more flavors of witchcraft than you can shake a (well selected for aesthetics) stick at. Like who jumps onto a post declaring absolutes without maybe checking for five seconds.

I beg of you, maybe make sure you know what you're talking about before you jump in. It's easy to know just your own stuff. It's hard to know everyone else's, and you shouldn't be talking about it when you don't.

[ozzgin]

hi spousey. bit of a crack question but how would human costumes even work or be made out of?? some magical substance?? animal skin?? w a x ???

do rich human fucker monsters have better costumes or something

and is there like a cultural difference (like western furries vs chinese furries) depending on the type of monster/ what they consider attractive on the human spectrum??

We’ve reached a true meta level of reverse scenarios. 😭

I suppose monsters are a tad more varied than humans, so there’s a lot of possibility in there. Whether they just put on an oversized human suit, or they skillfully shapeshift into one…if you want to go for that capitalist spice, we could of course have human cosplaying contests where certain monsters with certain funds have an obvious advantage.

I also like your theory about monsters liking particular aspects from a human depending on their own background. We could conduct an imaginary study. Heh.

One anon just pointed out another interesting aspect of the whole human kink saga.

In the grand scheme of things, I would assume that humans first exist as fictional/mythical creatures, and then as something to be sexualized. But here we have another parallel to our own world.

If I recall correctly, there’s a guy online who searches random characters on Google images, and times how long it is until he stumbles upon sexualized fanart. Usually it’s in the range of seconds. So, you know, objectifying characters is an old tale we too are familiar with. That’s not to say all monsters would be like that.

Yet another opportunity for a large-scale social study, eh? We can coin the researched phenomenon after anon’s suggestion below.

[hwangyeddeongie]

top 5 ryeji fics? 👀

hello anon!

okay so this is kind of an impossible question but I'll do my best to answer 🫡

(not in any particular order)

1. there's a demon in my home (and it's here to stay) by qaisal

i wanted to put more fics by qaisal here, but I’ll keep it at one lol. all I’ll say is that there’s a reason this person has the top 3 fics in the ryeji tag! the witch school setting, the shapeshifting, the enemies to lovers….i love this fic so much

2. among the sea’s salt by ForTheFlowers

I remember this being one of the first long ryeji fic I read and I was just completely blown away by first, the amount of research put into it to make it a believable historical fiction, second, the amazing set up and characterisation, third, the perfect evolution of an enemies to lovers arc, and fourth, just the sheer quality of writing. this is definitely one of THE best ryeji fics on ao3

3. what’s in a name? by snowandwolves

I don’t have a single bad thing to say about this fic. the worldbuilding is absolutely PHENOMENAL, the writing is superb, the angst and ensuing fluff (and smut) WILL make you cry. I have it downloaded so y’all will have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands

4. indigo by khevzs

I cried more than once reading indigo and I am NOT ashamed to admit it. literally the slowest of burns and yet IT’S DONE SO WELL. parent ryeji my loves…..the perfect balance of angst and fluff is 👩‍🍳💋

5. champion of the geunhwayang by khevzs

THE ryeji fic of all time. like cmon. once again, im a sucker for historical fiction and khevzs pulled this off so well!! the setting, the cultural undertones and traditions displayed, like this fic should make the list for just the research put into it alone. would have paid a LOT more attention in school when learning about this time period if it was done in this format. also, the characterisation is just perfect. the transitions into different phases of ryeji’s relationship is so believable and done perfectly. we can only pray khevzs will come back to finish this masterpiece

HONORABLE MENTIONS

made for loving you by gazwashere — actress yeji I will always love you

when she looks at me by snowddeong — I revisit this one so much….RYU FRECKLES

the face poets always talk about by khevzs — yes khevzs is in this list 3 times what about it

unfinished business by ddeongies — choreo my beloved…HOT STUFF WITH (eventual) FLUFF + the perfect amount of friends to strangers/enemies to lovers angst, literal perfection

wheel, snipe, celly by lonewolflink — I cannot wait for link to give us more of hockey ryeji because I am OBSESSED

take a chance on us unfortunately orphaned 😭 — once again, parent ryeji….i love them

믿어 trust by haegum — not for the faint of heart! this fic is on the darker side, but the world building and quality of writing is a 10/10

love in the modern day (the modern way) by westhyo — so hot and so funny! this is just smut but it’s super well written and I love ryeji’s dynamic here and the ending always cracks me up ++we love traumatising chaeryeong in this house

[zepskies]

I was reading BMD, like a millionth time, and i cannot put into words how much I want someone caring by my side as well. I have never dated, as an researcher i am always occupied with my work, but i love slipping into fictions whenever i have time to do so.

So… thanks for making me swoon and also increasing my standards a little bit more 😂

I can’t wait to fall in love! Must be really nice

Thanks and take care♥️

Why thank you so much, lovely anon! 💚💚

Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader) is a very special series to me in many ways, but the reason why you love it is the reason why I write romance. To be honest with you, I've never been in love quite yet either. More than anything I've been wanting to find that person to do life with and be my partner in crime. 🥲 But I believe in us! We'll find it one day. 💖

You take care as well, hun. I'm so glad BMD was able to make you swoon (and raise your standards! Wow! lol). 😘

[venusin-aries]

I really need to get this off my chest but the way people are trying to compare the sexual desire Az has for Elain to the way he is with Gwyn? It’s borderline ignorance of sexual assault. 

Azriel respects Gwyn. He admires her. 

He also witnessed the aftermath of her rape. 

Of course he’s not going to sexualize her. I imagine he won’t ALLOW himself to think like that about her just yet and that’ll be an obstacle they’ll have to overcome.

Would you want a man you only just re-met all over you after he saw the aftermath of your rape? Because if so, THAT would be romanticizing her sexual assault.

That’s why, if anything, I’m so fucking glad the bond hasn’t seemingly snapped for him. 

If they are mates (which most of us think they are) any desire he feels for her will be stronger than what he feels for Elain just like any desire Elain feels for Lucien will be stronger than what she feels for Azriel. Those are FACTS. Because Elain and Lucien are CONFIRMED MATES. 

Some of y’all are so weird and HARMFUL it’s crazy. And I’m not someone who is super sensitive about assault, fictional or real, mine or others, you guys just CLEARLY HAVE NO IDEA HOW DESIRE AFTER ASSAULT IS HANDLED FOR BOTH PARTIES INVOLVED IN THE CONSENSUAL ACTIVITY. And it shows. I trust Sarah to do thorough research about it before publishing anything.

Az and Elain’s desire for each other will pass. 

Her bond with Lucien will not. 

Azriel is likely going to have his own mate who he’ll go fucking feral for and his and Elain’s bonus chapter moment will look like child’s play. Elain and Lucien’s tension WILL snap eventually and I KNOW they will be the biggest Freaks (affectionate and spicy meaning) of the series.

And I’m gonna remember every one of you fucking weirdos who were weird about Azriel’s seemingly lack of desire for Gwyn (though he definitely starts to seem intrigued in acosf AFTER his and Elain’s bonus chapter moment) and how some of y’all hold her assault against her. 

It’s not just one person who is stating this shit either so it’s not about anyone specifically. Yes, bloggers have been combative about it but anons are even worse and I’m Tired Of It.

This is NOT AN INVITATION FOR DISCOURSE. If you think my being sick of the way people are so stupid about assault is problematic, you’re the fucking problem, baby. Don’t even try to start shit with me because I’m tired of people saying the most off the cuff shit about Gwyn and then playing the victim so if you have a fucking problem go vague post about me or something cause I ain’t going to read it any more.

and whaaaaatever you do, do not reblog this with an argument against Gwynriel or Elucien for e/riel. I will lose my damn shit and I WILL fucking block you.

also, and just an unnecessary tidbit for you all, my first partner after I experienced assault told me nothing satisfied him more than satisfying me and making me feel safe after being hurt so badly. Compete with that.

[konigsblog]

ORLLLAAAAAAA

It's me again from the other anon with the research and stuff.

Guess yall both have been in a pickle recently.

https://www.tumblr.com/captainslayahoe/752093075218874368/woke-up-to-a-bakers-dozen-worth-of-hate-messages?source=share

Any thoughts?

honestly, i couldn't care less for their apology. to analyse someone and make multiple lengthy posts about them is extremely strange and creepy, it's harassment, i've asked to be left alone because not once have i ever gone out of my way to harass a random person online. i wouldn't sit there and make an analysis on a random person simply because of the fictional content they produce.

i didn't need 84 paragraphs dedicated to me (not including the post that you linked, but the other three posts they had created). i've had people make countless posts about me, talk shit about me nonstop, send me death/rape/doxxing threats all because of the content i write, and they think i care for their opinion and apology? it's the same shit i deal with every month, sometimes even multiple times.

i don't care if you don't like my work, that's perfectly fine. i'm asking for basic respect, for people to stop harassing writers online. it really shows your maturity when you can't handle someone creating content that isn't made for you specifically.

i have better things to be doing with my life than arguing with people online over fantasies. i don't care for what a minor thinks of the content i write because it's clearly stated that it's not written for them. i've given warnings and i've explained how to prevent coming across triggering content, and in return, these people refuse to acknowledge that they can filter out certain content and continue to harass me over and over again, ‘til i have no choice but to turn off my askbox because it's getting ridiculous.

and i'd like to add, if you have sent this person (or anyone who has created a hateful post about me) a hate message or have threatened them, just know that you're not any better, i don't appreciate it at all. i don't need a bunch of people to go out onto someone's blog to send threats and be disgusting towards random people online. at the end of the day, i simply don't care. i'll continue to write dark fiction, because it's my blog. their opinions aren't valued or important to me, because i don't know them or care to know them. 🤷‍♀️

[leorawright]

REQUESTS OPEN???

Anything with Sniper PLEASE Anything with Sniper-

I'm foaming at the mouth- I NEED more headcanons/one shots for my fictional boyfriend aughhhhhhh

Either something with general hcs or like, fluffy stuff with a romantic s/o PLEASE I NEED THIS AUSTRALIAN SO BADDDD AHHHH 😭

U can pick, but here's some that I thought of (u probably already did them tho lol)

-artist s/o

-genderfluid s/o

-ultra affectionate s/o

-environmentalist s/o (this one I think is neat bc Sniper to me is definitely a nature guy. A Bear Grylls meets Steve Irwin type of guy lol. Hunts just for survival and utilitizes the whole animal, never shoots does/fawns, respects wildlife, stuff like that... ...Actually this may be my fav lol. Someone who's in tune with nature and shit x someone who's fighting for it :3 [me] I'm into researching, making art, writing, and passionately rambling about the topic, and I'd go to protests if I was able to. :D My S/I to ship with him is an environmental scientist outside of the merc work ^^") Ack- that turned into a ramble, oops I'm sry 😅

-bee anon 😅 (I'm so normal I swear lol)

Of course I can my beloved Bee anon!! (Sorry it's kinda short)

Sniper with Environmentalist s/o

When he notices that you're as into nature as he is, you bet he starts taking you on nature dates

Just sitting in the woods and pointing out different bird and plant species is more than enough for him

He'll listen to you ramble with a smile and occasionally chimes in his agreement

He's not a big protest person, but if you go to a protest, he may or may not be in a nearby building ready to take out anyone that might try to hurt you because you're protesting

He's actually pretty good at drawing so sometimes he'll draw a cute bird that he sees while he's out and gives it to you :)

[olderthannetfic]

Anon from 722398181104795649 again about YA as a G-D and it's failure(s). Your response is really interesting because it definitely aligns with the market research I've had to do over the last 3-ish months for work. Adult YA readers want YA to skew older superficially as escapism from the woes of adulthood (It's like someone who orders a pasta with broccoli in it because they appreciate the flavor it brings, but they have no interest in actually eating their vegetables). Teenagers feel alienated by the G-D that is meant for them no longer allows them to confront said woes with honesty or maturity for their age to prepare them for adulthood or discussing broader ideas. More teenagers skip over YA altogether or just reader adult genre fiction with some Middle Grade fiction mixed in because the teenagers feel in MG, there's still an honesty to the stories that they can understand, having once been young children. In short: teenagers think YA books are talking down to or patronizing them.

The result is YA authors pushing for NA, New Adult, as a G-D, which hasn't taken off within tradpub outside of romance circles. Mostly, because what they're pushing for is already an established genre for around a century: campus novels--books about characters 18+ who are entering college, establishing independence, beginning to explore sexuality and enter the workforce, etc. But, again, YA adult readers refuse to engage with adult genre fiction because there isn't the facade of protection from adult themes or topics, and there's an aggressive refusal among many agents in literary fiction (and some adult genre fiction) to encourage authors to sanitize their stories. YA authors began attempting to cross over into adult genre fiction with mixed, but overwhelmingly negative, results, as they cannot shake the stigma of writing YA. And the genre fiction crowds they want to appeal to have higher standards, typically, than the average YA writer is able to meet. YA authors then complain about the differences in publishing YA and genre adult fiction. It's like when MCU actors and directors get upset when prestige film directors don't consider MCU movies to be "cinema."

--

This is fascinating.

I pretty much missed the YA boom (slightly too old, not paying attention, etc.), so I've mostly encountered YA through its worst evangelists of the Hunger Games knockoff era, and often a good bit after their favorite books were at their height.

As I've said before, this really strikes me as that pattern where something is big when you're at a formative age, and it becomes the Normal Default to you.

I'm sure some of it is refusal to engage with adult nuance, but I'll bet a lot of it is resistance to leaving the name of YA behind. People spent so much time defending this niche that they started believing their own rhetoric about it being the only place the good queer stuff was or the feminist stuff was or whatever. They identified really strongly as A YA Fan. It's hard to let that go.

And if you don't remember much about pre-YA boom publishing, the fact that all that YA-tastic Mercedes Lackey stuff was filed under fantasy, not YA is completely obscure. The places you find stuff you'd like that aren't called "YA" are not obvious. The fact that YA in its boom era form isn't universal and eternal is not obvious.

I think people are waiting for their Cool Era of their early 20s to return and for the things they think should always be in fashion to come back... Like everyone else aging ungracefully, they may be waiting a while.

Gotta say, every New Adult book I've been shown sounds like a hideously boring contemporary romance that would probably make a good coffee shop AU against a backdrop of a canon that's dark or magical but that isn't really pulling its weight even if you like contemporaries.