#this is quite possibly my editing peak

[covingtons]

✨ close your eyes & open your heart ✨

Halloween Edits pt. 4:

Thalia as Bloom from the Winx Club 🧚

[thedevilspearl]

keep that mouth full, baby — older brothers

a/n: time to finally satisfy my oral fixation and give you guys some more self–indulgent, smutty goodness. today’s edition is mc giving the older brother’s a blowjob while they are busy with other things.

tags: 0.9k words, blowjobs (obviously), oral fixation, no gender specified, reader x lucifer, mammon + leviathan.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

the dim lighting in lucifer’s office certainly sets the mood. you wonder how he is capable of not straining his aged eyes while reading through his paperwork, but you assume he opted for quiet lighting so you wouldn’t notice how flustered his face is.

not that you have a good view of his face under his desk. but still, if anyone would go so far to hide their blushing face from the person they love, it would be lucifer.

it’s not something to complain about. the small compartment under his desk is more than cosy given that lucifer plopped a few cushions and a blanket under there before you surrendered your mouth to his aching cock.

for hours, you’ve sat between his legs with only a small gap to peak up at him while his cock sits on your tongue. every now and then, you’d stroke him, slowly dragging his length in and out of your mouth before resting your tired head against his thigh. you’d feel his muscles clench as you bring him right to the edge before maliciously decide to stop, feigning fatigue.

lucifer brings his gloved hand below, running fingers through your locks to comfort you while imagining yanking them and using your mouth like a toy to get off. but his fantasies stay well within his mind because there is no way he can wade his way through the mountain of paperwork without the warmth from your mouth on him.

teasing and edging aside, his burning skin and shallow pants motivate him to finish his work faster, so he can have you all to himself. he’s holding in his orgasm because when he does give in, he wants to give his all to you with undivided attention.

it’s torture — cruel, yet comforting. but lucifer can’t function without it, without you.

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

you’ve been through many an attempt to force mammon to finish his homework on time, or at all, for that matter. but nothing has worked quite as well as this.

it started as a promise — finish your homework and i’ll give you a blowjob. anyone could imagine how quickly he got it done, but no one would imagine him scoring full marks. and that’s how you discovered pleasing the greedy demon’s huge cock was the best way to improve his grades.

mammon begs you to help him with his homework, and you know he doesn’t need help, he needs your mouth.

it’s become such a common occurrence that your jaw begins to ache every time you hear the word homework. and yet, you don’t find a reason to stop because you are just as greedy as the avatar of greed. you’ve become addicted to the feeling of his cock filling your mouth.

he hisses as your tongue runs along his length.

“fuck….” he whimpers. “your mouth is so filthy, but so fucking good.”

he throws his head back and you take him whole into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth until you can take as much of his length as possible, and use your fist to pump the rest of him. he is so overtaken by bliss that he thrusts his hips, but you don’t allow him the privilege of control.

“ngh, mammon,” you gasp, pulling away with a string of saliva connecting you to his cock. “don’t get ahead of yourself. you’re not allowed to cum until you finish your homework.”

he reluctantly picks up his pen while his cock twitches in your mouth. deep groans escape him and you continue salivating all over his cock, sucking even harder.

“hurry up,” you whine. “i want your cum all over my tongue.”

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

once again, leviathan has been locked in his room for hours. you expected it; he just bought the new video game he wanted for so long and now….well, right now, he cares more about the stupid game than you.

but you won’t have it.

levi is so engrossed in his game that he doesn’t notice you entering his room, or you stripping naked, or you crawling past his feet and into the little nook under his gaming desk.

you’re just about ready to slap him across the face just so he would notice you, but you turn the frustration into motivation. your fingers trace his ankles all the way up his calves, tickling his sensitive skin a shiver wakes him up from his intense gaming trance.

surprised from the sudden touch, he rolls his chair back, giving you enough room to pop out from underneath.

“mc, what are you do–” his eyes rake over your form, finally realising your naked form. “w–what are you doing there? like that ?”

his cheeks burn red and you smile at him teasingly, running your hands all over your body and watching his brain malfunction from the teasing.

“like this? levi….i wanted to see you for so long. but you’ve been playing yoir new game.” you pout. “but it’s okay. you can keep playing and i’ll stay under here.”

“is that—mmh!” he cuts himself off with a moan as you grab his cock, fondling it and pulling it out of his pants. the poor demon is so touch deprived that his cock grows hard in so little time, and you waste no more putting it in your mouth.

“keep playing,” your order is muffled by his cock, and his fingers spasm over his controller buttons, pressing all the wrong ones because the warmth and tightness from your mouth have him hooked immediately, and his game is long forgotten. “good boy.”

[meet-the-coffee]

Tf2 McDonalds Headcanons: Coffee edition...

So, somebody posted a template thingy and I replied to that post. Here's my full thing with my own template made lmao,,

Link to inspiriational and original post here

So, my headcanons are like this:

Heavy:

I view Heavy as a pretty serious guy so I think he can go a little further up with Medic, yet not all the way still. He can once in a while "oke oke. Heavy could go for burger. Let's eat burger." And then chuckle. But he's very much born and raised with responsibility with his mom and sisters. He's responsible and nurturing. That is his nature behind that solid mountain of a man. (Read: official comics) This man starts ordering and he doesn't stop ordering /hj,, no but fr I think like, he, alone, orders for 3 people to eat for himself. The rest stares in horror and/or awe.

Medic:

Medic is peak "ve havf food at home. Quiet down nowv, QUIEEET."

Engie:

Engie should be middle between "we have food at home" and the chanting. I think he's the mom of the group a lot of the times (cooks and bakes for the team in my hc) but I think he would very much also like to bring the "kids" to mcdonalds sometimes because why not!! So mid right it is. Probably orders some burger and a coffee. Sometimes a water or sooometimes some soda.

Demoman:

Demoman is a drunk. Drunks love fat food. Him and Soldier are dumbasses and I view them as being quite child-like like this. Demo and Soldier are absolutely chanting for burgers. But also, I think Demo is just a sliiight bit more responsible (he's mama's boy!!) Demo orders a wholeass meal ok. Something with lots of meat and bacon and cheese. Drink? Bro drinks beer. He tries to order a beer. He does not get a beer. He shrugs and chugs the beer in his hand.

Soldier:

On that note, I see Soldier as a sliiight bit more possible to go HELL YEA BURGERS, drive the fking bus in via drive-through and go "FIVE CHEESEBURGERS AND A COKE. A REEAAL AMERICAN COKE... YEAHAH." And then eat all of the burgers for himself. He's not rude he's just oblivious lmao,, not many braincells scrambling around in there.

Pyro:

Scout and Pyro are absolutely screaming for mcDonk. Pyro wants happy meal. He fucking loves the toys. He collects them, even. Keeps him occupied in the car lmao... he always orders a milkshake. Maybe strawberry flavour.

Scout:

Scout orders a 20-box of chicken nuggets (like me!!) Or the big McShare-box with different stuff like chili cheese tops, nuggets and chicken clubs, (also like me. We both audhd as hell ok) and always a coke and/or a milkshake. (Sometimes he wants both!!)

Spy:

Spy doesn't give a fuck, he gets a coffee. He just needs a coffee to be able to withstand the drive home with the bunch of toddlers in the backseat. Only chance they get to order something is if Scout bounces in (after experience from first or second time) to go "AAAND AY UHHHHHH--". Spy scoffs in annoyance and tells him to sit down and shut up. Scout does neither. He wants chicken nuggets. But first few times, Spy really just sighs at the chanting, throws his finished cig out of the crack in the window, and exits the highway for mcdonalds. And then he just goes "one black coffee please." And they go "anything else?" And he just goes "Mercí, that'll be all." And start driving for the next window before they even tell him to (more to do so before anyone interrupts and protests).

Sniper:

Sniper is below middle on the left line - between . On occasion he's like "fk sake." And goes for a coffee and probably elbows Scout in his possessions before he can do what he does to Spy. And then after paying and driving off with his coffee, he just coldly goes "Like I said. We have food at home." Like Spy, he just needs a coffee to survive the drive home. And not get an impulse to drive straight off the road into the cliffside.

[Bows bows]

Thankuthanku, that'll be all !!

[petarabbit2]

Realistic Ace Trappola + Headcanons

Ace headcanons + realistic artwork done with Art Breeder and edited in Clip Art Studio:

Okay so getting straight into it, this is my first post about my headcanons and realistic versions of twisted wonderland characters and the first one being introduced is *drumroll* Ace Trappola! Ace fans, you eating good tonight my chickies (that sounds so weird if u dont think of chickens right away LMFAO).

Sidenote: When headcanoning Ace and all my other characters, I take both factual and some of my personal thoughts/beliefs of the character to construct my headcanons.

So for Ace, its evident that I gave him acne due to reasoning such as his diet (fav food being cherry pie and mentioning his liking towards burgers) plus he is literally a teen boy that also has no women in his life and stereotypically the mother is the one to bring up looks as an issue, so without this Ace probably would have never gotten the right treatment for his acne. 

He’s already a red head so I added on that by giving him freckles. Also, it's known that redheads are more prone to acne, so another note as to why I gave him acne.

For his features for a realistic rendition, I went with a heart shaped face (because Ace’s card suit is hearts) but his widow's peak is hidden beneath his bangs. He has a snub nose shape which is quite round and slightly upturned. He has thicker eyebrows cause we all know bro don’t give a shit about his appearance.

For his hair I went wild, it's extremely fluffy, a bit curly and like shoulder length when wet. Bro has had like two haircuts his whole life and probably smells foul. I also tried to keep to the original style pretty closely without it looking really weird like bro came straight out of an anime. 

I didn't draw the bodies for any of them but Ace is more lanky with long legs and a rectangular body shape, but he has pretty big feet and hands.

Yeah and he's got a light British accent gang I’m sorry 😭 – he uses slang often as well.

Without & With Face Makeup:

Personality and backstory headcanons + a bit of character analysis:

Okay so Ace is one of the very first characters we meet in the game and a good one at that, a lot of people just put him in the category of “dumb friend with one brain cell”, and yes that's kinda true but every person had a reason to be the way they are due to personal experiences. We know in canon that Ace has always lived with his father and older brother but due to the literally no backstory on his mum, I’m saying his parents are divorced which he has much more time with his dad, also by his mannerism being so straight to the point and not sugar coated, this could be due to him being raised in an only male household. Which could also hint to why he “didn't feel committed” to his former relationship in middle school, he was so new to this type of love and got scared. After all he is just a teen, cut my boy some slack. (#1 Ace defender) 

Due to this relationship with his mother and seeing how his parents fell out of love, fought or similar, he’s very bad with women which is why he has only male friends. The only way he would have a girlfriend (or woman friend) is if they were not sensitive to his zero-filter way of speaking and even tell him off for it. (not me doing this since my yuusona is a girl 💀)

It's still mentioned that the whole family gets together around holidays (although this could possibly just mean his grandma and such and not the mothers side) so maybe the divorce wasn't messy and they just didn't love each other anymore, which happens all the time with quick relationships.

Ace is also pretty immature and not into deep and emotional conversations which is common with teen boys (especially around his age group). So not trying to hate, but all those scenarios made up with him comforting the reader and helping them feel better, in reality, he probably wouldn’t have gotten why you're so sad and not really know how to comfort you. Which is completely fine! He's not fully grown in body or mind and people need to accept this.

He definitely makes your mum jokes and sex jokes, bro cannot stop himself laughing when a teacher says anything sex related. He's highly competitive and will sulk if he loses a basketball game or bet with a friend.

Also despite being not very empathetic (not on purpose though), he appreciates the little things. For example, he’d appreciate you remembering his birthday or always having a spare pencil for him in class as you know he always loses his. He really appreciates those friends and even though he lacks in some areas, he will always protect them and stay by their side no matter what.

In conclusion, he's just some teen boy who's still learning about life and people. I had a lot of fun making the realistic design and giving him more depth as a character and I'll be doing this for the rest of the cast and after that maybe side characters?? Only if you guys want it though, I’ll also one day release my yuusona 😞. (she’s my queen get ready yall (hi i’m the 10/10 editor and assistant 😋)) (together, we are big brain)

My editor/assistant cause I can’t grammar or spell to save my life: @cyb3rpnnk 

SIDENOTE: DO NOT REPOST MY REALISTIC RENDITION OF ACE OR ANY OTHER CHARCTER I DO AS YOUR OWN. EVEN THOUGH THE BASE WAS MADE WITH AI IT IS STILL MY CREATION!

However you are permitied to use my headcanoing as your own for art or stories or whatever, just not my realistic rendition.

Hope you enjoyed my take on realistic Ace and my headcanoning!

[house-strong]

— THE SHIELD and his princess ʾ ⋆

summary ; criston cole is many things – but a teacher he is not. after learning his duties as a sworn kingsguard, who is he to disobey an order from his princess?

pairing ; targaryen!reader x pre-green!criston cole

notes ; written at 2 am after i saw a sad criston/rhaenyra edit so here’s this,, also the beginning of me writing hotd imagines if this goes well?? 😏😏😏🤝

the festivities that were thrown in king’s landing was beyond ser criston. with pleasant music, girls batting their eyes and giddily running around, mixed with the loud roar of the crowd was enough for a man of his low stature to get drunk on. the feeling of adrenaline coursing in his veins as an opponent swings their sword, as metal clashes with metal and the song that rings from each weapon – it is a calling that criston knows is his.

dismounting the targaryen prince and earning the princess rhaenyra’s favor was a blessing he thought he was dreaming of. but, being summoned to court on the account of being chosen as a kingsguard – gods, that was the highest he had ever felt.

much to his delight, permanently residing in the castle of king’s landing was something he favored over the endless and scorching sands of wasteland he once called home. though the city did have a foul stench that burned his nose hairs from time to time, he had grown used to the taste of sea salt on his tongue and the terrifying roars of dragons that filled his ears.

he had also grown fond of the silvery wisps of hair of a certain targaryen princess.

ser criston was still young, merely in his twenties, when he had sworn the oath of a kingsguard. no land and no titles was an easy thing to get behind as he was a lowborn knight with little to his name, but an oath of chastity? to father no children, or feel the love of a wife? who was to say that a fleeting feeling of hope was treason?

“ser criston?” your voice breaks the young knights trance. he blinks rapidly, fingers drumming the helm of his kingsguard armor that rested at his side as he tries to remember what you were saying – did you ask him a question? was it about the upcoming celebration of princess rhaenyra’s marriage to laenor velaryon? or, perhaps if it was about taking a stroll through the red keep?

he clears his throat and looks down at his feet, clearly ashamed, “forgive me princess, it seems that my mind carried me away.” ser criston peeks up from behind a stray wisp of brown hair, only to see a bright smile directed at him. he can’t help but swallow the queasy feeling in his stomach and smile right back.

“i’m rather curious about swordplay,” you reiterate, glancing down at the massive book that rested upon the table in front of you. you take a moment to uncross your legs and recross them, getting comfortable into the seat. your hand tenderly touches the parchment, “it says here that it’s a bit like.. dancing.”

a look of confusion sweeps across ser criston’s face as he takes in your words, “now that you say that, yes, it is quite a bit like dancing.”

you hang for a moment, deciding your words carefully. being a princess had its downsides, and right now, being unable to attain swordplay as a hobby wasn’t gratifying. even at your command, the other kingsguard would have asked permission from your father.

“would you show me?”

ser criston opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. to refuse an order given by a member of the royal family could have consequences, but to injure a princess would possibly be even a worse fate to imagine. he winces at the thought. he exhales slowly as he weighs his words carefully, “i’m sure you would find actual dancing more attractive than swordplay.”

you unfold your legs and rise from your seat. your black gown falls back into place around your legs and moves with grace as you approach the knight. dark fabric peaks up at the sides of your shoulders and gathers near your collarbones, highlighting the bone underneath. he sucks in a breath. your hands clasp behind your back and heels click against the smooth stone of the floor. ser criston is still as you approach, but watches you carefully with black, beady eyes.

“if i wanted dancing, i would have asked for dancing.” you say, voice clear and almost commanding. almost. his knees feel weak when you stop merely a length away – he can smell your perfume wafting in the air and filling his scent glands with pure delicacy. he almost sighs at the scent. after a moment of silence, “do i need to command you, ser criston?”

the kingsguard feels a blush creep up his neck and crawl into his cheeks as he comes to a realization, “no, you do not, princess.”

you beam triumphantly and rock side to side in place, “it’s settled then.” you turn on your heels and return to the abandoned book on the table. at the same moment you settle back in the chair, a handmaiden walks in. “i shall see you tonight, ser criston.”

ser criston watches the servant carefully before returning his attention to you. he bows slowly at the hip, maintaining eye contact as he rises. he mutters the word princess as he does and turns heel to exit your personal quarters.

between being summoned to escort princess rhaenyra and attending a kingsguard meeting, along with guarding the door to the kings private quarters, ser criston is constantly thinking about what the night will ensure. so much so that the day passes rather quickly and night had befallen the capital.

with a full, warm belly and aching limbs that are screaming for more rest, ser criston returns faithfully to your quarters with two wooden swords in his grasp. he is not surprised to see ser arryk guarding your door.

“ser arryk,” he greets, giving a momentary dip of his head as a sign of respect. the other follows suit but with a curious gaze casted towards the mock weapons, mumbling ser cristons own name on the brink of a yawn. “be at ease, i’ll be with the princess tonight.”

with another head dip, the former kingsguard wordlessly departs from your door and strolls down the hallway. ser criston watches him leave before entering into your quarters.

he enters and smiles at the silhouette of your figure against the castle walls. he shuts the door behind him and approaches, his boots offering a soft thud in the silence. he rounds the corner and finds you in front of a mirror that is angled away from him.

“ser arryk, i thought i said i wished to not be disturbed,” you say without turning around, running a comb through the locks of your silver hair.

“i’m offended that you mistake me for ser arryk,” ser criston says, enjoying the way that your face lights up with happiness once you turn around and eye the two wooden swords he had brought. “although, i’m not quite sure how we’re going to dance in your room.”

your hands quickly twist your hair into a plait, binding the end with a leather bind before rising from your seat. it’s then that ser criston notices that you’re wearing your dragon-riding attire. he smiles to himself and follows you into the main chamber of your room.

“i have a place in mind, follow me,” you say, tidying up your perfumes and oils before leading the way out of your door. you exit the royal apartment courtyard, smiling at any servant or lord or lady that passed your path. you lead ser criston to the castle wall that bordered the harbor. waves crash against the rock and sends salt flying into the air, giving the air a less-than-pleasant taste.

“this isn’t secluded, princess,” ser criston says with uncertainty. you, however, shrug carelessly and smile at the obvious nervousness that radiated off the young knight. you move forward and gently take one of the wooden swords from his hand. it feels odd in your grasp and the handle is surprisingly rough against your palm, but the balance is easy to manage. you give it a small twirl, trying your best to show control.

“never mind that, ser criston. where do we begin?” you stand straight, wooden sword hanging limply by your side. you watch him with curiosity as he sucks in a breath. ser criston should have prepared himself for this night of teaching.

“let’s see your stance.” at his words, you try your best to shuffle into a mock fighting stance. however, your legs are bent awkwardly and your position is open. ser criston almost lets out a small guffaw. you glare as he stifles his laughter. “here, allow me.”

ser criston moves closer and adjusts your position. he fixes your legs and squares your shoulders, putting your hands in the right spot on the handle of your sword. he pauses for a moment and meets your eye, and it’s then when it’s noticeable how cool it is outside and how much warmth radiates off your bodies.

he clears his throat and shuffles away, “how does that feel?”

“a bit better,” you admit, relaxing into the stance. you twirl the sword once more, careful to not hit the kingsguard, and notice how it actually feels a lot more smooth in your hand.

“let’s try basic maneuvers,” ser criston says. he begins showing you some movements and remarks what each movement is. a forward slash, a parry, a sidestep, and a block. watching him move is enrapturing and the book you read earlier was exactly right – it was a dance and ser criston made it look flawless. he had light steps and quick movements, magnificent enough to draw you into a trance. he concludes his tutorial with, “my princess.”

“you make it look easy, ser criston,” your voice is on a borderline whine, but you ready yourself and mimic his movements the best you can. your movements are wobbly and unrefined, years of practice not as obvious as it was with ser criston’s movements.

“i’ve had years to learn, my princess, and i’ve fought in more incursions than i want to count.” his voice is almost reminiscent as he confesses towards his experience in swordplay. “you will learn, in time.”

“you will teach me?” you ask, your brows raising in surprise at his words. he stays silent for a moment, but then nods after some wordless contemplation.

“if that is what my princess wishes, then yes, i will.”

warm, brown eyes meet yours as you two share a look for what feels like a century. ser criston debates whether or not that was appropriate to say, whilst you fight the tears that well in your eyes. years after begging someone, anyone, to enlighten you about sword fighting and being turned down, all of a sudden has changed within the night. you drop your sword and rush forward, wrapping your arms around the light armor that ser criston wore. you feel him tense, but he soon relaxes into your hold and returns the hug with a hand on your back.

“thank you, ser criston.” you say earnestly. though it’s supposed to be serious, ser criston enjoys the way that his name rolls off your tongue in this moment and finds himself blushing. he thanks whatever gods there are for the dim, warm lighting of the torches lined on the walls.

he clears his throat and readjusts his grip on the handle of his practice sword, “pick up your sword and we’ll start from the beginning.”

[multimystica]

Card of the Day!

So, I'm not great with editing/design or with running social media but this is honest work so let's go! Take a deep breath and pick a card. If you want a personal reading message me here, leave an ask, or message me on my ig @multimistica (beware of spelling, it's spelled like that because my ig page is in portuguese) This reading is much more intense than I intended it to be, it may help to mentalize what you need advice on today to narrow down the meaning of your chosen card from the descriptions I've made below so your reading can be more precise.

Card 1 - X of Swords

Defeat. Peak of despair. This is pretty much rock bottom, there's nowhere to go but up. You might suffer some sort of tragic event today in which you feel defeated, like a martyr, broken beyond repair, or something of the like. It's like when something goes wrong in the worst way it possibly could. The message of this card is it can no longer get any worse than that, pick yourself up and move on. Dwelling in that is no use, move on (as hard as it may be). The depiction of this card is quite graphic, for those unfamiliar with it, here it is:

So help yourself, remove the swords, tend to your wounds and move on. Biggest advice with this card is to move on cause it's literally the worst it can get. The worst that could happen did happen, so after this it can't get any worst at all, and that's what brings relief about it. If this is rock bottom, and you're there and still alive, things can no longer get any worse, and it is in that you must find your peace and fucking FINALLY start healing and moving up, after this defeat things can FINALLY start to get better, even if a small bit at time. You've survived the worst, now you live on to see the best start coming.

Card 2 - II of Pentacles

Multitasking. There may be a lot on your plate right now, as you're dealing with lots of things. It's the kind of day where you're in a rush with a long list of tasks to finish, you have to get things done and you wish the day extra hours to accomodate all of that workload. This is also true in a figurative way, you might be having to deal with lots of emotions all over the place. The depiction of this card is literally a juggler:

It's certainly hard to deal with such workload, so if one or two tasks go unfinished today, that's okay, just keep doing your best at it. If this card speaks to you in the emotional sense, dealing with ups and downs or with indecisiveness, the advice is to try and work through said emotions in a healthy way as they come and go. Be it work-wise or emotionally wise, the biggest advice of this card is to set your priorities and work through them in order from the most important to the least. This card may also refer to financial decisions, in this sense it is imperative you pay attention to how you're spending your money, make sure you don't spend more than you earn, if you're already doing so, then it can mean one of two things (or even both): Be careful on your financial decisions (if you're investing in something rn it means a high risk), that is the first thing. The second thing is you're going to have to work hard. Remember, hard work is highly rewarded.

Card 3 - VII of Swords

Doing what serves your own ends, often in unethical ways. This card can mean a fuckaton of different things depending on your life's context right now and in a collective reading like this it might be hard to tell in which sense it applies to you, but I'll do my best. First of all, are you being unethical, sneaky, or dodgy in any way? If so, the message is simple, stop being a bitch and go look for a ethical way to get what you're going for, seriously. Be conscientious, do no harm, if you're dead set on something by unethical means there is certainly a better, more ethical way to get it and you must find it. If you're about to do harm to someone seeking justice, don't, let divine justice take place instead. Take a good look at this card:

With that out of the way, if you're not doing any sketchy shit right now, then BEWARE.

If you're in a relationship - Beware of cheating, betrayal, mind games, a stab on the back, broken trust, going behind your back, that kind of stuff coming from your partner.

If you're in a bad friend group - Beware of being backstabbed, of negative gossip, people betraying your trust, taking things from you, going behind your back or fucking you over somehow.

In the work/academic context - Beware of people stealing your work, stealing your ideas, erasing your name from a paper and putting theirs in, plagiarizing you, backstabbing you via the HR, planning a coup, or anything.

IN ANY CASE - Beware of two-faced people. Keep your guard up, protect your secrets, don't let anyone fuck you over in any way, beat the enemy at their own game.

It's really hard to see any positive trait in this card, the whole damn card is a huge red-flag for unethical stuff, and the worst part of it is that in the case of this card the asshole at hand is usually able to get away with it. You must stay alert and be smart.

Other than the whole vitriol of warnings this card brings to stay alert to those surrounding you is, if you have to make an escape out of something, this is the right time to do so. It's the time to take a risk. It's the time to be resourceful, to plan out your strategies, to be self-reliant, and to beat your enemy at their own game, really.

[iwanderthroughthesenights]

I am particularly intrigued by each of the bonus tracks because as we saw with Midnights, the fact that these songs usually remain mostly within the fandom because they're more shielded from the radar of the "general public/locals" gives her a lot of freedom to be even more honest and raw, and also to address topics that are more uncomfortable and/or controversial (see: all the tracks in the 3am edition).

We know The Black Dog is most likely referencing impending depression. I'm so curious to see if it'll talk about that period of all-consuming sadness that happened after the breakup and the rebound, or if it will actually be about a period where she was deeply depressed during the last years of their rs OR, which is what I feel is more likely for some reason, if there was a period where both Taylor and Joe were very depressed but together, bc of something that happened that they had to face together and were both deeply sad about. The death of a loved one, the loss of something, the end of a period of time where they were both happy in their rs and had the right balance, a disappointing outcome to something one or both of them worked really hard on, the crumbling of something they were expecting or looking forward to that ultimately couldn't happen. So many possibilities, these are just very general descriptions.

We know a big aspect of their dynamic was being sad together and reflecting about life, often through that sadness. In LPSS, when explaining hoax, Taylor talks about how she thinks a part of love is "who would you be sad with?". It's quite interesting how this is such a strong recurrent theme in the art she made with Joe as a muse. "I'm with you even if it makes me blue", "Don't want no other shade of blue but you, no other sadness in the world would do", "The rain is always gonna come if you stand in with me", "I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm, if your cascade ocean wave blues come", "Those Windemere peaks look like a perfect place to cry", "I want auroras and sad prose", "I wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed", "You don't really read into my melancholia", "Tears on the letter, I vowed not to cry anymore if we survived the Great War", "why don't you rain on my parade? Shred my evening gown, read my sentence out loud, cause I love this curse on our house", "how long could we be a sad song till we were too far gone to bring back to life?".

[kaus-quietis]

Lav's All-smiles Problem-solving Roooooundtable ch108 edition!

Welcome, welcome! To Lav's BSD ch108 discussion! Delivered to you via my funky dove Eliott, acting as my mystic messenger. These are random thoughts I had after reading this brilliant chapter, which, writing-wise, made the best possible use of Fedya's character, expanding it even more without even betraying his backstory. Maybe a backstory isn't needed after all, just look at how much FUN he is right now. I am in BLISS

Putting aside the fact that he is literally carrying the plot at this point, come sit with me, I make you a delicious Chinese black tea with rose petals and casually share my thoughts. Hello there, dearest Kat, yes, "where is Lav when you need her?", I am here, I offer you a hug, and to all my friends here who share the sentiment, I hug you too.

A. Before you say ANYTHING about "oh but? maybe Fedya is telling the half-truth? or a half-lie? what if his ability really is the evil one?", my brothers and sisters in Christ, listen to yourself. This man functions almost on a meta-level of character consciousness: he changed his facial expression and aura so convincingly, his tone, his speech, his posture, even the shade of his eyes, fooling not only Sigma, but the readers as well. We are used to characters changing the shade of their eyes when they change mental states or have certain (new) decisions in mind, we as a community are so used to this, all it took was one panel from the Conjurer doing this trick for so many of us to actually believe him and start, yet again, to spiral down the "what if he is good but his ability is evil? what if he is two entities? what if?" rollercoaster. This is so amusing to me, and in a meta-sense must be amusing to Fedya too. While speculation can bloom again based on this, I wouldn't be putting too much effort into reading into his lines here. I take it as a trick. It worked splendidly, almost like it attacked the fandom's major concerns and theories about his character and weaponized them against everyone. That's a meta-kind of tomfoolery. Trolling, if you will. I LOVE that Asagiri made him bamboozle every reader like this. His character so far goes into the best direction, it cultivates and expands his traits and skills in the best way. But let's pretend Fedya really is telling a half-truth there, which is there being an opposition between him and his ability. I talked about this in my essay (see pinned post), there really seems to be a divergence at the core of his character, but it manifests subtly, not like what we saw in ch108. Then again, not even on that can we arrive at any conclusive statements, because if we remember that, of course, "crime and punishment are close friends", it could well be that he and his ability are partners, and you bet I imagine they would BOTH indulge in peak tomfoolery like this together, if that meant one of them switching in and the other out for a sec. Remember, dear souls: aside from his "higher mission", abstract as it still is lore-wise, Fedya's keyword is "fun" or "entertainment", repeatedly. And oh he himself is even more fun now~

B. if Fedya would have wanted to mortally wound Sigma, he'd have chosen a more suitable place to stab him; it looks like a abdominal, lower quadrant, lateral stab, a deliberate choice, I would say, that technically avoids critical, most vascular organs (kidney and spleen for example) and main veins/arteries. I am no doctor, but from what I gathered, Sigma won't bleed out fast at all, and if untreated might get a deadly infection in a longer time (not counting the possibility of septic shock if we assume the knife penetrated and heavily opened an intestine). Sigma needs a medic asap (our queen Yosano when?), but will likely be conscious and quite able to move around and whatnot. Like I argued in my essay, Fedya most likely does not want to kill Sigma, or anybody for that matter, because keeping everyone alive to fulfill various roles and see how their will tosses them in all kinds of directions is more fun for him, more entertaining, but also more useful. He is a long-term strategist, like Dazai. "Our beloved monsters" ❤

C. Fedya evidently exerts some serious mental torment on Sigma, by making him stand by his choices, his will, just like he always desired. The flip side is that Fedya takes his time, or should I say gifts Sigma his time, in which he teaches him the full lesson of what Sigma wants. The responsibility that comes with acting on your own, the terror of facing the consequences when choosing on your own: right now, to Sigma, this freedom is terror. But Fedya is never a one-dimensional character. It's most probable he calculated and devised strategies for both possibilities (a. Sigma with rekindled determination touches him; b. Sigma backpedals on what he decided and does not touch him). The irony is that both scenarios are an affirmation of Sigma's will, because, while the first decision can be seen like foolish bravery, the second one can also be seen as wise self-preservation, if the circumstances so demand it. BSD is not a black-and-white series, diving head-first into danger is not its definition of bravery or heroism. BSD was always about measured decisions, ones the characters take upon themselves willingly. It may be time Sigma does that too, in his own way, and Fedya wants to see that. Why? Well, my guess is because it's fascinating to watch humans grow, and Fedya lives for the entertainment that comes with it. It is actually more interesting if we remember his line from ch42 (“People can be so simple… They truly believe they are thinking for themselves. (…) They don’t want to think they’re being led by the nose”): the pattern is, Fedya puts others under harsh circumstances, and then, under pressure, lets go of them, waiting for their free decision, the true test and expression of their hearts, so to say (which could make a superb discussion if we make a parallel between Kunikida and Sigma, since essentially what happened to Kunikida is happening now to Sigma, except Kunikida did indeed break down, but thanks to healthy support from his comrades he slowly regained his sense of self, and stronger than ever at that time, however… Sigma is alone, isn't he? but what if he needs to be in order to finally get a hold of his own self?). Anyway, how much of that expression is free, or how much is guided or manipulated, is a debate in itself, since it implies relating the freedom to the individual vs relating the freedom to the external factors and possibilites.

D. I do need to underline, just like Fedya also underlined it: Sigma already made his decision, right there when he still tried to get the gun before getting kicked in the face. Fedya moved on to the next step: testing how strong Sigma's will is when an actual chance to act appears. Sigma already accepted the physical pain, but how will he face the mental anguish? That is more Fedya's territory, a "specialist" of breaking people by simply knowing them thoroughly and choosing the right words. But now we gained new info: even in close combat, apparently, Fedya is not to be underestimated. That was a rather strong kick, anyway. But more importantly, he completely turned the tables in a situation where he would be in a total disadvantage. * chef's kiss * that was very bungou stray dogs of him.

[miradelletarot]

Part 4: Under the Moonlight - The Weave and the Vines

Summary: Sagora meets Gale outside of camp for a private moment under the stars.

ACT TWO SPOILERS Don't judge me, this was my very first foray into smut writing, and I adored this scene so much I used some of the lines from the game because they were just too good to replace. Sorry not sorry. I have made some edits/improvements though so hopefully it reads better than it used to. TAGS: Fluff, hurt/comfort, body worship, PIV, Fem!OC , very unexciting but productive use of mage hand. Words: 4,000 | AO3 MINORS DNI - SMUT UNDER THE CUT

“Good evening! I’m here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep.  He wishes to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale.”Sagora tilted her head, confused as to what Gale was up to. He said to come to his tent this evening, but she expected him, not a projection. Still, her curiosity was piqued so she followed the projection’s instructions, and traveled the path set before her. She arrived a little ways outside of camp to see Gale sitting in a lush, grassy field. Fireflies flitted nearby him as conjured sparks of the Weave surrounded him in a glittering aura. He heard her soft footsteps coming from behind, and turned to look at her. He smiled. “I love this time of night.” She smiled back, and quietly sat on the blanket next to him. He spoke so eloquently, so gently, about the peak of darkness, of eternity. Suddenly, she was snapped out of the daze his voice lulled her into.

“ –The timelessness of lovers. That most beautiful of fantasies.”   His eyes sparkled like the stars in the sky. She could drown in those eyes. They made her insides swirl, and her heart skip, but she noticed a shift in his gaze. A hollow feeling seated itself in the pit of her stomach. “This may be my last night alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder.” He turned his gaze from Sagora towards the iridescent night sky. Translucent waves of purples, blues, and greens blanketed the starry landscape he created.  He needed an escape from his inevitable reality.

“Gale, do you really think this is the right choice? To die for a goddess who so casually cast you aside like a piece of rubbish?”

“It’s Mystra’s will. If she thinks that this can turn the tide of our most unfortunate of circumstances then perhaps I should.” He hung his head. Saying the words out loud make sense enough, but the knots in his stomach tugged at him with hesitation and uncertainty.

“You’re quite brave to face this so…so calmly.”

Gale let out a faint chuckle. “Truth be told? I’m terrified. But, that doesn’t change anything about the task I’ve been given.” “You don’t have to do this, you know.  All of us - together - we can figure something out I’m sure of it.” Desperation washed over Sagora’s face. Was he truly willing to die for such a cause without considering other options?

“I appreciate the sentiment. Really.  My fate is inevitable, I'm afraid. Best to meet it on my own terms.”  His words sounded so confident, but the pained look in his eyes spoke otherwise. “This is ridiculous. Gale, you don’t have to die. There are so many possibilities that lay before us. You have all of us, for better or worse. Let’s figure it out together. No one needs to die…especially for the sake of an ungrateful goddess.” Sagora furrowed her brows at the mere thought of Mystra. Gale didn’t need her anger though. She wanted to comfort him as he did for her days before, though he could sense the rising fury within her that she tried to keep hidden. “ Sorry …I didn’t mean to – ” Her words trailed off as she cast her gaze to the ground. She didn’t know what to say, but she knew her anger would ruin a lovely evening if she continued. An awkward silence hung in the air. Gale understood that she was angry about his new mission. Yet, he couldn't imagine anyone caring so deeply for him. It only made him fall for her more. “One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime. I’m so very glad you came.” He turned to Sagora, and smiled softly. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” She returned his smile with one of her own, and placed her hand on his. His skin felt electric and warm, still charged with traces of the Weave. “I know this is unreal, but I created it for you.” He paused. He was unsure how she would react to his confession. “You must know that you’re...you’re very special to me.”  He wanted nothing more than to be back home, in Waterdeep, showing her all the wonders the City of Splendors had to offer. To do things properly. But, they were all on borrowed time. The luxuries of a proper courtship wouldn’t be possible. Say the words, Gale. It's now or never. “I’m in love with you.” Sagora saw trepidation, adoration, and anxiety flood his gaze all at once. His words echoed in her ears as the heat rose from her core, and pricked at her skin. Her body moved of its own accord as her lips caressed his. Her impulse was all the response he needed for his confession. Softer than the finest silk, he thought.  The sensation sent shivers through him. Such a delicate touch evoking the most fervent response. He didn’t need to hold back this time. Since Elminster stabilized the orb, Gale was free to feel as deeply as he wished. For now. Taking Sagora’s hand, they stood together. “I want it to be perfect.” He sincerely and excitedly shared his ideal evening with her. Within the Weave, bonding like the gods do. To intertwine their spirits in an ethereal landscape with no mortal limitations. “All of that sounds lovely, Gale. But –���

“But ?”

She sighed softly as she cupped his face in her hands. “I don’t need illusions. I want you. Just. You.”

He stepped back with a gentle smile. “If that is what you wish, so be it.” With a flourish of his hand he conjured a bed. It had been so long since Sagora lay in an actual bed. While it was still an illusion, it was real enough for her to dive into. It felt plush on her skin, and smelled of freshly washed linens. Truly, a delight to her senses after a long period of dirt, blood, and a flat bedroll.

She propped herself up on one side so she could look at him. Her eyes darkened with desire as she tapped seductively on the bed, and waved him over. He sauntered over to the edge of the bed, and grazed his hands up her body as he climbed up to meet her. Her pulse quickened as his hands explored her over her garments. She was suddenly overcome with a soft, whispered giggle. Gale paused. The deepening desire that was once on his face was now replaced with confusion, and concern. “Is everything ok?” He really wasn’t sure what to make of her reaction. She grinned wildly. “Yes . It’s just -”

“We can stop if you’re not comfortable.” “No! Gods no. I just - haven’t - it’s been a while.” Her cheeks flushed. “And - I’ve never been...romanced before. I quite like it.” She looked away, and bit her lip sheepishly. His gaze softened, and he smiled. He lowered himself down to whisper in her ear. “Then let me take care of you.” Her eyes flashed at his request. “Me? Why?” Their faces were so close their noses nearly touched. He planted a chaste kiss on her forehead before he sat up.

“Because you deserve it. You’ve done so much, Sagora. Let me show you how much I appreciate you.” His eyes darkened once again. “I told you. I want it to be perfect.” She was fairly certain she forgot to breathe. This was unlike anything she’d ever felt before, but she yearned to experience everything Gale wished to offer her. With a gentle smile and a nod, she gave her unspoken consent, allowing him to pleasure her as he wished.

He extended his hand to her, shifting enough so she could sit up. With his other hand, he slid his arm around her waist, and pulled her in closer to his chest. His fingers lingered at the hem of her tunic. “May I ?” He whispered. He dared not move an inch unless she gave her permission.

“Please.” She gazed at him as he gingerly pulled the garment over her head, and carelessly tossed it aside. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and began tracing his fingers down the length of her body. Her collarbone , her breasts , her stomach . His breath shuddered with every contact of her delicate, exposed skin. But, this moment was for her. He’ll tend to his own desires later.

Gale gently patted her thigh. “Roll over, and lie down.” She flashed a curious smirk at his gentle command, but was happy to acquiesce. When he straddled her thighs he noticed the moonlight had illuminated a multitude of old scars on her back and sides. Some were large gashes, and more smaller cuts. If there were others he hadn’t noticed them in the darkness. Sagora could sense his delay, and looked over her shoulder. She knew what gave him pause. “It was a long time ago…” Thankfully, her vague statement was enough to dissuade him from any questions.

As if his touch couldn’t be any softer, he delicately traced one of the larger scars that went up her back. Then another, and another. He lowered himself down to her, pressing his body gently against her curves. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered into her skin as he began to kiss each scar tenderly. He sat back up, and whispered an incantation, a thin layer of oil coating his hands. He rubbed them together for warmth before he slid them up her spine, and spread them out to her shoulders. A moan mixed with pleasure and comfort was forced out of her as he massaged her sore muscles. “Gale...” Her call to him was muffled by the blankets beneath her. “Yes?” Sagora tried to respond, but all that came out of her were breathy moans, and incoherent mumbles as the tension left her body. He smiled knowingly, continuing his soothing ministrations.  “Are you comfortable?” All she could do was nod, completely overcome by his warm touch. As the oil began to absorb into her skin, he leaned down to her once more, and nuzzled the side of her neck. She giggled softly as his beard tickled her sensitive skin. “How do you feel, darling?” “Amazing.” Her face was slack, and still muffled by the blankets. A contented sigh passed her lips, and she smiled. “I'm glad.” He whispered, and left a gentle kiss on the back of her head. He removed himself from the softness of her body, and asked her to turn again. Sagora took a moment, humming a satisfying moan with her stretch, and savoring the lack of tension in her muscles as she rolled over onto her back. Gale draped his legs around her once more only to find more scars - ones he neglected to notice earlier. The darkness did well to shroud them before, but the moon didn’t allow her to hide her past so easily this time. He knew better than to ask who or what caused her such pain, but he couldn’t help the heat that rose within him. It took all of his will to keep his rising anger from showing itself when his purpose in that moment was to make her feel comfort.

Still, it didn’t discourage him from repeating his adoration as he did before. He lovingly caressed and kissed every scar that painted her flesh. “I swear,” he muttered against her skin, “I’ll protect you so you’ll never have to endure this pain again. If you'll let me.”  

Sagora released a trembling sigh as Gale continued to explore more of her with his delicate lips. He then settled on the curve of her exposed neck, grazing her skin with passionate kisses to her jawline. He lingered by her ear, and playfully nibbled at her soft flesh. She hummed, delighting in the way he felt as his body pressed into her, his cock straining against his robes. He released a soft growl as he seductively tugged at her lobe once again, the vibration sending a chill down her body, her breath hitching at the sensation. She thought she might lose herself from the voracity of her sinful need.

“ Gale –” She huffed. “ Please –” She could hardly speak. “I need you.” 

A wicked grin flashed across his face. “Now, now, my love. Patience. You’ll have me. I promise .” His voice was low and rough as he caressed his cheek against hers. The want in her eyes was growing desperate, and he was enjoying watching her come undone by his touch alone. Slowly and deliberately, he slid his hand up the side of her body, and settled at her breast, filling his hand perfectly. He deftly flicked her nipple with his thumb, and an uncontrollable moan emanated from deep within her. He left a trail of soft kisses down from her neck to her other breast, and took her into his mouth while he continued to play with its mate. She arched her back, writhing under him as his tongue swirled and flicked at its peak. Her walls fluttered, clenching around nothing as she snaked her hands through his tousled hair, her arousal dripping between her legs the more he teased her. The vibration of his moan against her hardened peak forced a shuddering whimper from her lips, throwing her head back as she felt the urgency of his own pleasure begging her for more – begging to be released from its bondage.  Even Gale was growing impatient with the pace he set. Slowly, he grazed his bottom lip across her peak, his eyes meeting her gaze, and lips curling into a seductive smirk at the sight of her. Marking the abandoned spot with a kiss, he sat up and drew his hands down her stomach, finding the laces on her trousers. “Is this ok?” he asked as he played with the laces.

Sagora's eyes darkened with wanton hunger. “Not yet. I want something first.” As he reached for her outstretched hand, she hooked his fingers into hers, and pulled him back down onto her. Unsure as he was, Gale was not displeased with her intensity. She pressed her lips to his, the tip of her tongue teasing at the seam. He parted his lips, allowing her to slip past, their tongues now swirling together, one desperate for the other. Her hips bucked into him as she explored more of him, the fire of their embrace growing more passionate the more they tasted each other. Gods was he delicious. He tasted of honeyed wine, warm, spicy, and sweet. She brought her hands to his cheeks, pulling him away just enough so their noses touched. “I want to undress you…please.” She was breathless. Wanting. Needing. He smiled and pulled himself back, taking her hand as he did so. They stood at the edge of the bed, Sagora grazing her hands up Gale’s chest and down again. He watched her as she reached up slowly, she unclasping the small buckles that held his robes closed, doing so with tenderness like he was a gift meant to be carefully unwrapped. The fabric folded over itself begging to be removed completely, her fingers gently scratching through the small patch of hair on his bare chest. The scars left behind by the orb were now exposed by the vacant garments. She traced her fingers around it, following every wispy line, his breath hitching at her touch. She leaned into his chest, and blew a cool breath at the center of the orb before leaving behind a delicate kiss. He rolled his head back, and his eyes forced themselves shut, unable to stifle the shuddering, breathless moan that left his body. Sagora gripped onto the sides of his robes, and buried her face into his chest, kissing the now glowing orb, in an attempt stabilize her own trembling body. Gale put a finger to her jawline, tilting her head so she could look into his eyes. He moved his hands to hers, and guided her to his belt. She unfastened its buckle, allowing it to drop unceremoniously to the ground. His robes fell open as she slid her hands up to his shoulders, coaxing the garment to fall of its own accord. Once he was freed from his robes, he reached up to her hands and guided them down to the ties on his trousers. She smiled coquettishly as she bit her lip, reveling in the way he grasped her hands, and moved them to places they both desired. Before he let her go, she pulled his hand to the hem of her own trousers. They unwound each other’s laces, but Sagora stepped back against the edge of the bed as soon as he loosened her ties. She wanted to make a show of seductively – sinfully - lowering her trousers and her smalls to the ground. She wanted to put herself on display. Just for him to behold.

He swallowed hard. “Well – aren’t you a sight for these starving eyes.” He stepped closer to her, hooking an arm around her waist, the other cupping her cheek. “But I think I’ll require your assistance getting these off .” He knew by now that whispering in her ear made her shiver, but was equally happy to take advantage of the opportunity to press her naked body against him. She moaned into his chest as she slid her hands across the waistband of his loosened trousers. He placed his hands on hers, and together, pulled them down, along with his underclothes, discarding them with the rest of the abandoned garments at their feet, finally freeing Gale’s hardened cock.

Sagora looked at him with a devilish, playful smirk. “ Now, Mr. Gale of Waterdeep –” Every word she said was coyly enunciated. “What was it you wanted to do to me?” He moved in closer, forcing her to sit at the edge of the bed. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling his body into her. She whimpered, her slick cunt throbbing as his cock brushed against her inner thigh. "Whatever you desire." His deep brown eyes burned into her. She couldn't hold back any longer. “I’m yours.” Her eyes grew impossibly dark with want. “I need you.”

“You have me, Love.” He purred. “Lie down.” She followed his instruction, making herself comfortable. He climbed on top of her, pressing his leg between hers to spread her open before him. Heat rose from her center as he lowered himself down to her, the curves of her body perfectly entwined with his. She bit back a moan as the tip of his cock teased at her bundle of nerves. He grasped his cock, and teased at her swollen clit as he began sliding his tip gently through her folds, her slick arousal mingling with the bead of precum that leaked from his throbbing erection.

“Gale. Please,” she mewled. He guided himself to her entrance, watching as he sheathed himself inside of her, a shuddered moan breaking past his lips as her wetness surrounded him. She eagerly attempted to rock her hips into his, but her movements were halted. He grasped her hips, and held her in place so he could keep a slow rhythm. It was torture for both of them, but he wanted to savor her as much as possible. He pulled himself out almost entirely before sliding back in, his controlled movements forcing a curse from her lips as the pressure of his girth stretched her slick walls. After a moment, he settled into a steady, deliberate rhythm. She gripped his forearms, and dragged her nails into his flesh as another curse escaped her lips. “More. Gods…Please. More!” Her words were breathless and ardent. “The gods…can’t give you…what you desire, my love.” His own eloquence breathlessly began to falter at the mercy of his coiling pleasure. “Gale!” She pleaded, her eyes piercing into him hungrily. Hands still on her hips, he slid his hands under her ass and pulled her up, the new angle allowing him to bury his cock deeper into her core. She wrapped her legs around him forcing him to fold, and brace himself on top of her. Their movements grew faster and less coordinated while beads of sweat glittered on her skin in the moonlight. Gale’s breath hitched at the delectable sight before him.

“Sagora… ahh –” His mind betrayed him, no longer able to utter anything coherent. All that could be heard were the sounds of their gasps and moans, and the friction of their slick bodies against each other.  Harder. She bucked her hips into him, his cock plunging deep into her core.

Faster. Desperately, they chased each other's pleasure. With every thrust, Sagora moaned louder and louder, no longer caring if the camp or even of Faerûn heard her.

She arched her back, lifting her arms over her head, gripping the pillows beneath her, and crying out in toe-curling ecstasy as she found her sweet release. Gale’s thrusts intensified as her walls pulsed around him. A deep, guttural moan poured out of him as he spilled deep inside of her. His concentration broke as his cock throbbed, sending shockwaves through her overstimulated body. They gasped for air in a dizzying frenzy, trying to come down from their high, when suddenly…

POOF!

The bed vanished beneath them, and they collapsed with a thud on the ground. Stunned, they simply looked at each other for a moment before dissolving into a fit of laughter.

“Dear Gods! Are you all right?” His concern blended with a fit of laughter at their hilarious climax. Her reply was thankfully tangled up in her own laughter. “I’m fine. Promise! Are you?” Gale winced, rubbing one of his knees.

“Never better.” Despite the dull ache in his joints, he couldn’t help but smile. Sagora gazed at him with satisfaction, nibbling at her bottom lip with a playful grin, paying little regard to the untimely break in their illusion. “Well...that’s not exactly how I wanted that to end.” He sat up, still nestled between Sagora’s legs. “Perhaps not.” She smirked. “But...hmm. How many blankets did you bring by the way?”

Gale cocked an eyebrow, looking at her inquisitively. “Uh, three. Why do you ask?” Sagora sat herself up, legs still splayed open before him. Grasping his arms, she pulled herself into his chest, her breasts grazing his skin with each breath she took. She walked two of her fingers up his chest, and dragged her fingertips through the slick of sweat that caught in his chest hair. “I think…we should make our own camp here tonight – ” She kissed the center of the orb, the salty taste of his sweat on her lips. “ – under the stars.” She kissed the orb again. “ – our bodies tangled up to keep warm.” She looked up and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips. He wrapped his arms around her, and they pressed their foreheads together.

“That sounds lovely …but first –” With a nonchalant wave of his hand, the evidence of their climax had vanished. He offered his hand to her, and helped her to her feet, walking over to the blanket he spread out earlier, and leaving their clothing behind in an abandoned heap. She worked her own magic to make the ground more plush beneath the blanket. Lush grass, and small wildflowers cropped up through the entire field creating a soft, pillowy surface for them to lay on.

They spread themselves out on the blanket, Sagora nuzzling her body into Gale’s. She draped one of her legs around his while he made use of mage hand to help him fan out the extra blankets on top of them. She let out a contented sigh as the warmth of the blankets caressed her skin. He kissed the top of her head, and pulled her in closer, fitting together like two pieces of an intricate puzzle. The comfort of their embrace was enough to lull them both into the edge of sleep. “Gale…” “Hmm?” “I love you, too.” Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 1 | S.R

My moodboard

Next Chapter

A/N - this includes part of the sneak peak but it’s been heavily edited since and some more content. Chapter title and lyrics are from a song by Neil Young. Happy belated Father’s Day, Dad Spencer!

Chapter Summary - Spencer is struggling to adjust to his life as a single dad after his divorce. Dating was the furthest thing from him mind. That is until he meets the new TA at Georgetown.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut in later chapters.

Content Warnings - mentions of one night stands, unplanned pregnancies, talk of cheating, divorce, heavy drinking.

Word Count - 4.4K

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 - Out on the Weekend

See the lonely boy, out on the weekend,

Trying to make it pay.

Can't relate to joy, he tries to speak and,

Can't begin to say. 

Spencer Reid thought that nothing in life could be as challenging as being an FBI Agent. 

He’d chosen one of the hardest and scariest professions to dedicate his life to and he loved it, but it wasn’t without its hardships.

Facing down unsubs, having guns drawn on him, and being held hostage on multiple occasions had to be the most arduous thing he would encounter in his life, surely? 

Being a child prodigy had its difficulties. Being the youngest kid in high school and college and then grad school wasn’t without its obstacles. 

The FBI had been one challenge after another but Spencer loved it. He loved it despite his lack of physical prowess and the times he had to end lives to save the lives of others. 

It made him feel like he was contributing. Every time they arrested an unsub and tidied up another dark corner of the world, he felt accomplished. 

But it was demanding. It took a lot out of him, chipped away a little more of him each time they couldn’t save someone. He let it bear down on his soul. 

But it was how he’d chosen to use his genius. He was aiding people. He was making a difference. 

Sometimes it just felt like he wasn’t helping enough. The cases they didn’t close, the ones who got away, stayed with him. 

But at least his work with the BAU was the most complicated thing he would ever face. 

Or so he thought. But even a genius could be wrong on occasion. 

And that was proven a few weeks shy of his thirtieth birthday when he’d had his very first one night stand. At least that’s what it was supposed to be. 

It had been Morgan’s idea. Spencer was happy just having a few drinks with his best friend but Morgan had been playing the unwanted wingman from the moment they’d stepped into the bar. Despite Spencer’s protests. 

“When was the last time you got some good loving?” He’d prodded Spencer, causing him to blush. 

“That’s none of your business.” It had been a long time, too long if truth be told. 

If Spencer was honest with himself, he was touch starved. Maybe some good loving as Morgan put it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. 

Maybe he hadn’t protested quite as hard as he once would have had. It was possible he didn’t hate the idea of taking someone home, of having one night where wasn’t alone in his bed. 

“What about her? She’s your type, pretty boy.” 

He’d glanced over in the direction Morgan was nodding his head and when his eyes landed on the woman Morgan eyeing up, and Spencer was instantly smitten. 

Morgan wasn’t wrong. She was his type to a tee. 

Spencer hadn’t responded, instead just stared across the bar at her and Morgan knew his pretty boy would need a push in the right direction. 

Before Spencer knew what was happening, Morgan was all but dragging him over to the woman and introducing them. 

They talked for hours. They had a surprising amount in common and Spencer smiled more that night than he had in a long time. 

She was beautiful and fascinating and the night had ended with Spencer taking her home and having more sex than he’d probably ever had in his life. 

The next day Morgan tried to goad details out of him but Spencer stayed tight lipped. He wanted to preserve the memory of his night spent with her just for himself. 

He might have thanked Morgan for his instance of talking to her. Might have. It wasn’t for the fact that several weeks later she had called him out of the blue and dropped a bomb shell. 

“Spencer, I don’t really know how to say this other than to just come out with.” There was a long pause on the phone and then she spoke the sentence that changed his whole life. “I’m pregnant.” 

Spencer could still remember to this day the way the air felt like it had been forcibly removed from his lungs from a single sentence. 

His vision had blurred and his hand clutching the phone went limp and he’d almost dropped it. 

All of him had gone limp. The woman he’d had a one night stand with, a woman he never expected to see again was pregnant. 

He’d gotten a complete stranger pregnant. 

The walls felt as though they started closing in as he sat in silence and processed her words. 

This couldn’t be happening. He’d always wanted to be a dad, but not like this. Not after one night spent with a woman he barely knew. 

He was supposed to be married to the love of his life and when the time was right they would plan to have a baby. Spencer planned everything. Spencer did not like surprises. He did not like to be blind sided. 

But she made it clear she was going to keep the baby regardless of whether he was a part of their life or not. And Spencer was a good man, his mother raised him so. So Spencer did the admirable thing. 

He married her. 

Spencer Reid married Maeve Donovan, a woman he hardly knew anything about when she was four months pregnant with his child. 

It was a simple affair at City Hall, only the BAU members in attendance. Spencer wore a suit from his closet and Maeve wore a white summer dress. 

Fall leaves lined the path outside City Hall and crunched under foot as they left hand in hand in matching wedding bands. 

Doctor and Mrs Reid and their future child. 

And if Spencer thought working at the BAU was the hardest thing he’d ever done, it was nothing compared working at the BAU and being a father.

At least before after a hard case he could crawl home and hide under his duvet and recuperate. He could shut himself off from the world for a few hours and just feel the weight of whatever case they had worked. 

But now his apartment wasn’t solitary. He had a wife and newborn daughter to come home to. There was no peace for him anymore. There was no alone time. Spencer was never alone. 

It was funny really that he’d hated being alone all these years but now he couldn’t be, he missed it. The irony wasn’t lost on Spencer. 

But Daisy Diana Reid was the absolute light of his life. The first moment he held his daughter in his arms he had cried against her soft fuzzy hair and he knew he would die for her. 

Standing in the hospital room, cradling her, he’d whispered against her tiny ear, “I promise I will love you forever.” 

He wished the same could have been said about her mother. 

He liked Maeve, of course he did. She was beautiful and smart and she was an amazing mother. 

If they’d met under different circumstances or if she hadn’t fallen pregnant he was sure things would have been different. Maeve was the kind of woman he could fall in love with. But fate had dictated he never got that chance. 

Their forced family had governed that they never found out what could have actually been. 

He wanted to be in love with her. He wanted to be in love with the mother of his child. But he knew with startling clarity when Daisy was born, he never would be. 

Juggling having a child and working at the BAU was completely exhausting. He never had a moment to just breathe. He was always on. He was either an agent or a dad, never just Spencer anymore. 

Honestly, Spencer didn’t know how Hotch and JJ made it look so easy. He kind of hated them for making it seem so effortless. 

But the long days and the excruciating cases were worth it in the end to see his daughter's beautiful smile when he came home. 

For five years things carried on this way. Spencer got a handle on his work-life balance and he started to feel like he’d finally gotten a grip on things. 

But once again, fate intervened. 

The air didn’t quite escape his lungs this time like it had the first time Maeve had dropped the bombshell that she was pregnant. 

Maeve always talked about having a second child, she thought a little brother or sister for Daisy was just what they needed. 

And although he loved Daisy, he really wasn’t sure he could handle another. 

But they hadn’t been actively trying. Spencer wasn’t ready for a second child, one was hard enough with his job and he didn’t think they were ready for a second. 

And since the shock of getting a woman he barely knew pregnant, Spencer had been vigil with his use of condoms. 

Except that one time on Garcia’s birthday a month or so prior when he and Maeve had gotten a sitter for Daisy and really let loose. 

They’d both drunk a lot that night and it stood to reason that in their states, contraceptives had been the last thing on either of their minds. 

So a little after Daisy’s sixth birthday, Maeve gave birth to her little sister Lily Mae. And once again the first time Spencer held her, he knew he would die for her. 

His two girls were his whole world. But having two children and a demanding job became way too much for Spencer. So somewhat reluctantly, he quit the BAU and started teaching. 

Leaving the BAU was one of the hardest decisions Spencer had ever made. Sure it was draining but he loved his job with a passion. 

But he loved his kids more. He’d missed a lot of Daisy’s life while he was away on cases and he didn’t want to make that mistake a second time around. 

But he never imagined he would be here. Teaching was something he’d always thought about doing, but not until much later in life once he retired from the FBI. Not at thirty seven.

However it allowed him to work more regular hours and spend precious time with his beautiful daughters. It was worth it to be able to read them bedtime stories and do the school run. 

But he missed the BAU with every beat of his heart. And he knew he always would. 

They moved to a bigger house in the suburbs to accommodate their growing family and Spencer thought he was at least something akin to happy. 

He grew to love Maeve, in a way, or maybe he just grew comfortable with her. He loved her because she gave him the two greatest gifts of his life. He loved her, because without her Daisy and Lily wouldn’t exist. 

He loved her because he loved his daughters. But he wasn’t in love with her. 

They did make a great team. They balanced each other out like a well calibrated set of scales. 

Maeve was the strict parent whilst the girls had Spencer wrapped around their little fingers. They learnt at an early age how they only had to give him a certain look and he would offer them the world on a silver platter. 

He was content. Parenthood was hard but he had Maeve to fall back on. It wasn’t exactly how he saw his life playing out but he’d resigned himself to it. 

Over the years as the girls grew older, Spencer finally started to believe he might actually be in love with his wife. 

They had fun together. Maeve made him laugh and she was fascinating to talk to. And admittedly their sex life was incredible, even after all those years of marriage. 

She was Spencer’s best friend. He supposed she was the love of his life considering he didn’t really have anything to compare it to. He could picture growing old with her while their kids had their own families. He could imagine them reminiscing about their life together in years to come. 

He could see them on a porch swing at seventy years old wrapped up in blankets and sipping hot cocoa. He’d read Arthur Conan Doyle to her while she laid her head on his shoulder. 

Maybe that’s all love was. Maybe love was as simple as being comfortable with someone and being content. It was possible he’d built up expectations in his mind of what he thought love would be like. Perhaps what he and Maeve had was real love. 

And just when Spencer thought all the hardships in his life had passed, just as he’d grown accustomed to his life and gotten comfortable with the way things were, Maeve dropped one final bombshell. 

And this one forced the air from his lungs in an entirely different way than finding out she was pregnant. 

Daisy was twelve and Lily was six the day Maeve came home in tears and told Spencer she couldn’t lie to him anymore. 

She proceeded to sob as she regaled him with the story of her three year long affair. She shared every single sordid detail of how she met the man named Bobby and had a few too many drinks before falling into his bed. 

She re-enacted every moment of her infidelity including the part where she fell in love with Bobby.

Spencer felt his life flash before his eyes. He saw every moment of their relationship before him, as he listened to her recount her affair. 

He’d tried so hard to love her for the sake of his kids. He’d been nothing but the perfect husband to her and this was how she’d repaid him? 

He felt like a complete idiot. 

Maeve had finished by telling Spencer she still loved him. She told him she didn’t want their marriage to be over. 

Spencer’s response was to tell her to go to hell. 

There was no talking about it. There was no discussion of where they went from here. To Spencer there was only one way this ended and it was not up for debate. 

So now a year after the fateful day that destroyed life as he knew it, Spencer was facing his hardest challenge ever: single parenthood. 

Maeve moved out of their family home the very day she’d disclosed her affair at Spencer’s insistence. She’d tried to convince him to work on things, to at least talk to her. 

But Spencer was done. He kicked her out and had barely said two words to her since. 

The divorce papers were finalised a few months ago. 

Hotch had some old contacts from his days as a prosecutor which helped Spencer gainprimary custody of the girls and they spent every other weekend with their adulterous bitch of a mother. 

Spencer stayed in their family home, and Maeve moved in with Bobby. 

He had to cut his hours at work to be there for the girls. Daisy who was now thirteen understood more of what was going on than seven year old Lily who kept asking why mommy didn’t live with them anymore. 

Life was intrinsically unfair. It was one thing for Maeve to hurt him, but another entirely for her to hurt their daughters. 

Picking up the pieces in the wake of his wife’s betrayal was the biggest challenge of Spencer’s life. Because it wasn’t just his pieces that needed picking up, it was Daisy and Lily’s too. 

Some days Spencer barely held it together for himself, let alone them. On some weekends they spent with that cheating whore he would spend forty eight hours with several bottles of scotch and his couch. 

Sometimes he’d go out. Sometimes he’d call up Luke or Matt or Emily and go to a bar and get blind drunk and stare at the tan mark where his wedding ring had sat for thirteen long years. 

Some weekends he didn’t even get out of bed. 

But without fail, once his daughters were back in his care, Spencer put everything aside for them. He plastered on a smile, he cooked dinner and asked about their days. He drove them to and from school and read to them and played with their toys with them. 

If Spencer Reid knew one thing to be true it was this: he was a great dad. He put his all into giving his angels everything they could possibly need. He showered them with love and adoration. He taught them everything he knew. He made sure they would grow up to be better women than their skank of a mother. 

But when they weren’t around, he crumbled. 

That’s not to say he was necessarily heartbroken. He’d never loved Maeve the way he should have. But he’d been comfortable, he’d had a stable life he’d grown accustomed to and Maeve threw it all away for some man named Bobby. 

Thirteen years of marriage, two beautiful daughters and a large home in the Virginia suburbs weren’t enough for her. He wasn’t enough for her. 

Spencer had been abandoned one too many times before for this not to rip him apart from the inside. 

He’d spent years trying to love Maeve for the sake of Daisy and then later for Lily too. He’d put his all into a relationship he’d never really wanted in the first place. 

He’d wasted all these years trying because he knew Maeve loved him. He did it for her. Only for her to throw it back in his face. 

It made him feel like a fool, and no one made Spencer feel a fool. 

But he held it together. He kept his anger and his sadness bottled up for the sake of his daughters who didn’t deserve any of this. 

And that was how, at forty four years old, Spencer found himself a single divorced dad. 

***

It was nearing the end of winter and the cold days and bitter nights were expected to pass soon.

Gloves and hats had been left behind in the previous weeks but Spencer still ensured he wrapped his girls up in their winter coats and scarfs before they left the house. 

He dropped Daisy and Lily off at school like he did every morning, stopped by his favourite coffee shop for his morning fix and then drove to Georgetown for his morning class. 

The girls had been at their moms for the weekend and if truth be told, Spencer was still feeling a little worse for wear after his weekend of binge drinking. 

He wasn’t as young as he used to be, he didn’t bounce back as quickly as he would have once had. 

Luke and Matt had taken him out, slightly against his will. He would have much preferred to stay home and drink alone but when the two men had arrived on his doorstep, it made it harder to decline. 

His old team members kept telling him he needed to move on. They told him needed to get back out there and meet someone if he ever wanted to be happy. 

But dating was the last thing on Spencer’s mind. Dating had always been difficult for Spencer but now with two kids it was neigh on impossible. 

He had too much else on his mind to bother with dating. Luke and Matt had reluctantly let it slide. 

The coffee in his hand aided in keeping him warm as he strolled across campus and also went some way to stemming his hangover. 

He tugged the lopsided purple scarf tighter around his neck as he fought against a soft breeze. 

The trees lining the path were still bare, looking somewhat baron this time of year. He looked forward to spring when all the flowers on campus came alive again, filling the otherwise drab courtyard with bursts of colour. 

The path ahead of him was clear and it looked like he might make a clean break to his office without any students asking for assistance on last week's lecture. 

He lifted the coffee to his lips again and relished in the way the liquid warmed him from the inside out. When he lowered his cup, he noticed someone now stood in the middle of the path ahead, effectively blocking his way. 

The person was facing away from him, something in their hands garnering their attention. A large navy overcoat hung around their frame, almost coming down to touch the floor. 

As he approached he realised there was no way around this person without walking across the grass and the groundskeepers frowned upon that. 

The figure didn’t even seem to realise they were in anyone's way, or even hear him coming. 

“Uh…” Spencer cleared his throat. “You’re kinda blocking the path.” 

Your eyes suddenly snapped up from the paper clutched in your hands and you spun to look at him, slightly wide eyed. 

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” You brought the paper to your chest, a look of shock on your features. “I’m lost, if you couldn’t tell.” 

In his entire life, Spencer had never felt his world stop turning the way it did when he looked at you for the very first time. 

You had a smile that could bring a thousand men to their knees. Your eyes sparkled as if they held all the stars in the sky. 

The last time Spencer felt the air leave his lungs like this was when a woman he’d had a one night stand with told him she was pregnant. 

But this time he was breathless for completely different reasons. 

He watched you tuck the piece of paper inside your purse that hung from your shoulder. He willed himself to speak, to say anything as opposed to standing and staring dumbly. 

“Uh…” he swallowed. “Where are you trying to go?l

“Do you work here?” You smiled sweetly at him, toying with the strap of your bag. 

“Uh yeah.” Spencer nodded, feeling as though his IQ had been completely slashed just by looking into your eyes. 

“Oh great!” You bounced on the balls of your feet. “It’s my first day. I’m trying to find Professor Monroe’s office but this place is so…huge.” 

A breeze fluttered past and he watched the way it caused strands of your hair to dance. He tried to ignore the effect such a simple action had on him. 

“Oh, sure.” Spencer nodded. “He’s over in the psychology building. I’m heading there myself, I can show you?” 

“That would be great.” You nodded, waiting for him to lead the way. 

He started walking again in the direction of the psychology building and you fell into step with him. Your heeled boots clicked against the concrete as you strolled together and Spencer found the sound oddly comforting. 

You fell into silence and Spencer wanted to talk to you, about everything and nothing, but he found himself at a loss for words. 

When he’d first laid eyes on Maeve all those years ago across the crowded bar, he thought she was beautiful, but he wasn’t floored by her. 

Conversation had come easy with her but that was probably only because he didn’t feel so tongue tied around her. 

She hadn’t knocked him for six the way you had, causing his brain to short circuit and effectively shut down. 

His reaction to seeing you for the first time was how Spencer always pictured great love stories to begin. 

He was nervous and his palms were sweating even though it wasn’t warm. His heart was racing more than it had a right to, and it only got worse when he saw you glancing at him as you walked. 

You made him feel dumbstruck, causing his usually impressive brain to become a ball of cotton wool. He’d never in his life felt this way before. 

“What do you teach?” You suddenly asked him, snapping him out of his daze. 

Your words felt as though they waltzed to his ears, wrapping him in a warmth DC hadn’t seen for months. 

“Criminal Psychology.” He heard the way his voice cracked, he hoped you didn’t notice. “You’re a bit late in the year to be joining a class aren’t you?” 

You giggled and the sound sent shockwaves through Spencer’s body. It was a sound of hope, of freedom; a sound that ignited something in Spencer he thought had long ago died. 

“I’m not a student, although I’m flattered that you think so.” 

“No?” Spencer raised an eyebrow at you. 

“No, I’m a TA. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to come up here for a while and thankfully I was top of the list when his last TA left suddenly.” 

You reached the psychology building and Spencer held the door open for you. 

You smiled in thanks as you brushed past him inside and he caught the scent of your hair. 

“He’s a really good professor.” Spencer mused out loud as you walked the corridor together. 

“Yes, I’m excited to work with him.” 

Spencer came to a stop outside Monroe’s office and motioned to the door. 

“This is him.” The plaquared on the door stating his name should have been enough to suggest that but thankfully you didn’t point that out. 

“Thank you so much. The last thing I needed was to be late on my first day.” 

“You’re very welcome.” Spencer felt a knot forming in his stomach at the thought of saying goodbye to you so soon. 

And by the way you hovered in the corridor he wondered if you felt it too. 

“I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N Y/L/N.” You offered him a slightly awkward wave. 

“Spencer. Spencer Reid.” 

“Oh I know who you are.” Your lip turned up at the corner. “Doctor Spencer Reid, former BAU Agent.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly as he gave you a curious look. 

“I…uh…should I be scared?” He scratched the back of his neck. 

“I’m just…a fan.” You shrugged. “Your thesis on Identifying Non-Obvious Relationship Factors Using Cluster Weighted Modelling and Geographic Regression was fascinating.” 

Spencer felt himself blushing, never one to take compliments. 

“I wrote that when I was at CalTech. You couldn’t have even been born.” 

Again you shrugged and your eyes twinkled in that way that left Spencer speechless.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Doctor Reid.” You clutched the door handle behind you. “Hopefully I’ll see you around.” 

“I really hope so.” He admitted. 

He watched you open the door and continued to stay vigil until you disappeared behind it. 

His heart was yet to return to a normal rhythm even after you were out of sight. 

His hangover was a long forgotten memory and for the first time in years, Spencer felt alive again. 

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[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

ʚ Pairing:   Thranduil x Female Reader (First person  POV)

ʚ Themes: Soft | Fluff | Explicit

ʚ Warnings: Explicit content of a sexual nature | Kissing | Obedience | Praising | Nicknames | Rough Sex | Penetrative sex

Minors DNI

ʚ Disclaimer:   I don’t own the original image in this edit.

ʚ Author’s notes : This is my first attempt at a first person POV reader insert story. Please let me know what you all think. 

The night had grown cold, and the rain fell like fat globs of ice, hitting me like an angry animal and chilling me to the bone while I rushed to the king's tent, carrying his supper. When I walked in, the warmth from a nearby brazier hit me like a soft blanket being draped over me, making a sigh rise from the tips of my toes. Ahh. So nice.

“Hello?” I looked around. “Your grace?”

No one answered. The tent was empty, the king was nowhere to be seen. It was all rather strange as he had demanded that his supper be sent to him immediately. My cold, wet feet are not happy with all of this, and neither am I. But, since I’m here and he’s missing--

I peak around when my curiosity got the better of me. Again.

There was the room where the king held his discussions. There were maps and charts and little chess like pieces everywhere. Here was where he came when he wished to read or reflect on his own, and here...

This was where the king slept. Thick carpets and drapes meant sound was muffled, the bed soft and comfortable. And those pelts, all brushed and clean, and so soft to the touch. They felt brand new, even though he’d been using them for weeks now. I run my fingers over them, looking around, and then--

"Who permitted you to be in here?"

Just me and my crappy luck. The king was behind me and he did not sound happy. Obviously. I gulped and looked straight ahead.

"I said,” His footsteps fell heavy on the carpet, his voice like a sharp lash. “Who permitted you to be here. In. My. Bedroom."

Say something! Anything! 

A cat has got my tongue. No. Several cats had got my tongue. It was all knotted up and twisted, all stuck to the roof of my mouth. All I could manage at first is a squeak.

“Is that all you could manage?” He was waiting for an explanation. An apology. Yes. An apology is the way to go. "Forgive me, your grace." I braced myself for the worst before I turned around to face him. What could I do to soften his rage? "I brought you your supper and you weren't here, and--"

"You thought it would be nice to snoop around?" Thranduil walked over to the table and helped himself to some wine before sitting down and glaring. "Poke your nose where it does not belong like you did the last time."

And he had noticed I have gone through the books the last I showed up with his food and he was missing. "Please forgive me for that, your grace.” He simply sat there, cold and unmoving. “I have never seen so many books in my life and-- they're all quite lovely really."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow to me, his face perfectly calm, perfectly reasonable. "You read?"

I myself wasn’t sure if this was a question or an insult, so I decided the kindest to do was to go with the former. "Yes, your grace. My father would read to me when I was a girl. He used to borrow books from his lord's library and let me read them when I was old enough to do so."

All he did was sip at his wine and sit there like a statue. An incredibly handsome statue that looked like one of the Valar had come to earth, all glorious and magnificent and—no no no. Now was not the time for my mooning over him, not when I was in so much hot water already. "I'll leave now." I gave him my best possible curtsy before leaving.

"Wait."

And here comes my punishment. His order stopped me in my tracks. This is what you get for being too curious for your own good, y/n.

"Many were given strict instructions not to go beyond the dining area of this tent, and yet you seemed to have not received that edict?"

I kept my back to him, but his eyes were on me the entire time, I was sure of it. "I did." I turn to him again, to a pair of blue eyes that looked like ice now. "And I have no excuse to offer."

Thranduil leaned back and studied me, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name or describe. It was oddly thrilling though, the way he looked at me. "It seems a lesson or two in obedience is in order.” He put his goblet to a side. “Would you consent to it, y/n?"

"Y-you know my name?" How was it even possible? Thranduil dealt with dozens, if not hundreds, of people regularly. How could he remember me, a mortal, out of all the others? 

"That shocks you, I see." The rain beat at the tent and Thranduil made his way to the entrance to close the flaps. The inside grew all the cozier for it. "My knowing your name?"

I managed a nod and threw discrete glances at the king, taking in the ash blonde hair, the warrior's body underneath all of that velvet and silk. Women everywhere swooned over him, and if the rumours were true, more than one man too.

And he still has no queen, or even a princely consort for that matter. Why is that?

"And I guess my lessons must include the importance of not staring."

Damn it.

He was grinning. Thranduil was actually grinning, his eyes vibrant like a beautiful summer sky now. "Come here, y/n," he chuckled and urged me to come closer. "I will not hurt you."

My feet grew a mind of their own and willingly took me to him, only to stop when Thranduil lifted a hand when I was close enough. "You will be giving me an obedience lesson? Of what kind?"

"Lessons." Thranduil steepled his fingers together, his eyes crinkling as if he was in deep thought. "I will give you a series of instructions, and you must follow them to the letter. But before we proceed, I must know if you have been with a man?"

Why would he ask such a-- Oh. Oh. I started to get a pretty good idea of these lessons were going to be like, and I felt all the more excited for it. "Yes." I answer truthfully. "A soldier. They died in the war four years ago."

 Thranduil offered his condolences. "And you still wish to proceed?" He asked after a brief period of silence. "You must know you can change your mind anytime you like. I will not hold it against you."

I licked my lips nervously. A chance to spend the night with the Elvenking has fallen right into my lap. Should I pick it up? Refuse? I may never get another chance like this, and even if it only happens this one night and then never again--

"Yes." My cheeks felt they had been on fire by now. "My answer is yes."

Thranduil held out a hand to me. "Take it."

My skin tingled when his palm wrapped itself around mine. "Now kneel." He said simply.

Kneel? I sank to the cushion that he tossed to the ground. Alright then.

"Boots." He stretched out his legs. "Remove them."

I did as he asked, undoing the lacings of one, then the other. Both were kept neatly to a side after I took them off. "You are wet, and cold." Thranduil leaned over and ran his fingers through my hair. I could have sworn my pulse picked up several notches after this. "Would you like to be warm?"

I was wet, cold and miserable despite the warmth of the tent. "Yes."

"My lord." He gripped my chin, tilting it up and making me look at him. His eyes had gone dark and commanding. "Say it."

Those four simple words had my heart hammering like crazy. "Yes, my lord. I'd like to get warm, my lord."

He smirked and let go. "Later."

When I opened my mouth to protest, Thranduil simply tutted and shook his head. "Talk back to me and you can forget this entire night, petal."

Petal. So simple a word, yet the way he said it made me feel all giddy and excited and eager to do as he commanded. "I'm sorry, my lord. It won't happen again."

"You learn fast, petal. Very good." He grinned and tilted his head. "Now. Since my boots have been disposed of, my tunic must go next."

Hard to do when I’m on my knees. "May I stand up, my lord." 

Thranduil leaned back in his chair and nodded. "You may."

He kept perfectly still while I worked on the cords of his cloak, the buttons of his tunic. I could smell him, all hyacinths and lavender and oranges. His breath felt warm against my skin and all of it made my mouth water, but the smell and warmth of him was nowhere as mouthwatering as the sight of him. "Petal," he cooed. "Come closer and stand perfectly still."

I was right between his legs now. Thranduil sat up straight, his fingers curling in my hair, tracing lines over my wrists and fingers. His touch made me feel hot, hot and hungry, and it took every ounce of willpower that I had not to sit on his lap, push him back into his chair and kiss. When my breath hitched Thranduil grinned wolfishly. "Hungry for me already?"

How did he--? I needed to be more subtle. "Your eyes, petal.” His grin was sly this time. He was enjoying this way too much. Then again, so was I. “They gave away your need. Do not worry, I will take care of it soon enough."

My knees nearly buckled from that alone, but I held onto my control as well I could. Tapered fingers moved to my waist, then around to my back. When he tugged on a cord, those eyes of his took on a questioning look, as if seeking permission. Did he want to undress me? "Yes," I found myself wanting to feel his skin against mine. "My lord."

He tugged at the cord. And tugged again. Thranduil pulled. Thranduil plucked. And in the end, Thranduil yielded to his greatest foe, a thin piece of ribbon that insisted on staying exactly how it was. I tried to hard not to laugh when he cursed and swore and reached for his dagger. “Enjoying this, are you?” Thranduil muttered when he heard a stifled giggle.

“Very much.” He managed a grin this time as the blade sliced through silk. "You owe me a dress, my lord." I kept still as he made quick work on destroying my dress. And it was my favourite one too.

"I will give you many fine dresses." He finally chuckled and tossed his knife to a side. "Now lift."

When my arms go up my dress, the ruins of it anyway, is lifted over and tossed to the floor. My stays got the same treatment as my dress, Thranduil was in no mood to deal with more confounding cords. My shift was next. I was truly cold now, and nearly exposed save for my small clothes. My arms instinctively go over my breasts as wanting to be naked and actually being naked were two entirely different things. "Do not be ashamed, petal." Thranduil grip was gentle when he disentangled my arms and moved them to my sides. My cheeks were aflame, but I kept my hands to my sides as Thranduil let his eyes drift all over me, his hand gliding over my belly, making my muscles flutter and knees grow weak. I felt something, something like fire coming to life within me. His touch smoldered making me want as much he was willing to give me.  "More?" He asked, his eyes never leaving me. "Yes." Nervousness was slowly giving way to anticipation. What else could he do to my body? Make me feel? "Yes, my lord."

Without another word, he hooked an arm around my waist and pulled you onto his lap. I felt him. All of him. From the warmth of his skin to his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, to the hardness between his thighs. "Touch me." He placed my hands on your chest.

His skin was like marble, without a blemish. Thranduil leaned back into chair, rubbing my arms as if to encourage me to go on. Muscles trembled beneath my palms and I could hear his breathing grow raspy and hoarse as I went lower, to his belly, to the band of his leggings. "Not yet, petal." Thranduil grabbed onto my wrists to stop me from going further. "Not until I kiss you first."

A kiss. He wants to kiss me. I close my eyes and then his lips captured mine. I could feel his arms holding me closer, tighter, his lips devouring mine and leaving me dizzy. The chair creaked when he sat up straight again and his kisses trailed lower, skimming over my chin before latching onto my neck, making me whimper. "Not a sound, petal." He growled between kisses. "I want you quiet."

Biting my lip was the only thing I could do really, and all it did was heighten everything for me, from his fingers bunching up in my hair to the tongue flicking against my skin. His kisses grew hungry and greedy, exploring every possible inch of me, from the hollow in your neck to the soft swell of your breasts. “I said be quiet, petal.” Thranduil stopped everything and pulled away, leaving me breathless and weak.

I had barely mewled. Barely. "I'm sorry, my lord." How I ached to have his lips on mine again.

"Again." His voice had a steely edge to it.

I was practically panting now. "I am sorry, my lord." His hands ran up and down my spine, making my skin tingle all over. "Please do not stop my lord."

Thranduil leaned in so close his lips was just a hair’s breadth over mine. "Beg, petal." His chest heaved like he had been running for ages. "Beg for me to go on."

I felt like he was breaking me down to my very core and I didn’t mind it one bit. "Please. Please do not stop my lord. Pl--" 

When he kissed me again it was with a sound that was both a moan and a sigh. I grew lightheaded and cling on to him, making him growl every time my nails raked over his shoulders. His body seemed to swell even more and I gave in to temptation, my hands working on the clasps of his leggings. This time Thranduil didn't stop me. "Go on."

As the clasps were undone and I took his cock in my hands, I could feel him grinning into his kiss. His face pressed into my shoulder when I found a rhythm he liked, his breath growing frantic as I continued to stroke him, ceaseless with each gasp he made. But it wasn't enough for him and he grabbed onto my hands before I could finish him off. He wanted more, it was there in his eyes, in the yearning of his breath. "Yes?"

This time it was a request, not just an order. I wanted more, to feel more of him. To be his completely. I was sure of your answer, of myself now. "Yes."

With one quick yank, he ripped apart my small clothes and pulled me right on top of him. He went in inch by inch this time, his teeth nipping at my neck every time I moaned and whimpered, not stopping until he felt me tighten around his cock. "You feel so good, you know that?" Thranduil, unable to bear it anymore, pushed in completely and made me cry out his name. "Hot and soft and so so good."

He pressed his lips to mine, drowning me, making feel drunk drunk and senseless. I felt a pressure growing in my belly with each passing second, and on and on he went, leaving me empty one moment, then full the next. He seemed to enjoy pushing me to the brink before pulling himself back again, his mouth pulling into wicked grins every time I begged for him to go on, to not stop. Again when he gripped onto my waist and pushed in deep, so deep, it was all I could do to hold on. “Say my name, petal.” I could feel his breath against my ear, his tongue skimming over my earlobe. “Say my name.”

Teeth nibbling the shell of my ear made me half-whisper, half-moan his name. “Th--Thranduil.”

He held tight and made my mind go hazy from the rough scraping of his teeth and the heat from his tongue, my moans in sync with his, our bodies moving as if one. When that pressure within me came close to breaking point, my body close to snapping, I accidentally pull on his hair. Taking this as his cue, Thranduil went in harder and deeper, not stopping until he felt me sobbing into his mouth and collapsing into him. My vision blurred, the world felt like it had spun off it axis as I was shattered by the orgasm that ripped through me.  He was still relentless, crying out hoarsely as he pulled me closer, his body heaving frantically. With one final thrust he grunted as he spilled himself inside of me. The two of us were melded together, our bodies sweaty and trembling. Thranduil kept an arm around me, holding me to his chest as I kept shaking.

Slowly, the world started to spin again and I could hear the heavy sound of his breathing, of mine. I opened eyes and blinked when Thranduil tilted my chin and kissed me while I recovered your bearings. As soon as his strength returned, he carried me to his bed and laid me there, joining me not long after. "Y/n. Are you well? Did I hurt you?"

My back hurt and I felt a little sore, but other than that, "No." I felt lazy and content when the pelts were pulled over me. "Wait. Shouldn't I leave?"

Thranduil did a double take. "And why must you do that?"

Why? He asks why? "I'm just a servant. A mortal. Only an elven queen is supposed to share your bed."

Thranduil gave nothing away, his face perfectly still. "And what if I want you as my queen? Will you share my bed then?"

No. It can’t be. I sat up with a start. "You're playing with me now."

He chuckled and pulled me into his embrace. "I am not. You must be still wondering how I knew your name?"

"Yes."

"Well, I noticed you more than once, y/n." Thranduil played with my hair while I listened with rapt attention. "I noticed how you tended the injured, comforting them, writing letters on their behalf, never complaining, and always with a smile on your face. I noticed what you were like with the children, reading to them and indulging in their antics, how you always had a helping hand or a kind word for anyone who needed it. The elves of Mirkwood are a good and kindly people, and my consort should be a reflection of that. This is why I have never found someone in the past, and why I choose you."

In the name of all that was good and holy. He wants me to be his queen. Thranduil actually wants me to marry him and be his queen. "I--" it was a lot to take in. "I don't know what to say."

"Say yes." Thranduil grinned, his eyes filling with hope. "It is that easy, really. I will help you settle in, and in time, we will grow to love one another. I will do everything within my power to earn your love."

I think and think and think. Being Thranduil's queen. His wife. Everyone else wanted him, but here he was, willing to pledge himself to me by sacred oath, to love me and forsake all others for my sake. He was kind and generous to all, and to be loved by him... I take a deep breath and decide.

"Yes. My answer is yes."

[matsur1]

Hakkai x f!reader A/n: Naur warnings just absolute fluff this time too, I got carried away bc Hakkai is such a AHDHUFJBAUEJFD yk what I'm saying?? This is all rightfully written by me!! and it isn't proofread yet bc I'm tired rn- imma read this later and edit some mistakes<3 (sugardaddy hakkai /j LMFAO)

Word count: 1.5k

Hakkai wasn’t totally introverted. He was quite an extrovert, but to girls? Oh he is way past than just an introvert.

And today happened to be the routine for him. Until he saw you. A lady with such gorgeous features who passed by in front of his house, walking by the sidewalk. The first thing that came to his mind was, “Taka-chan would surely like to have a model like her!” 

He unwillingly stared at you while you were walking, then he realized that you just happened to live a few blocks away. He shook his head to focus back on what he was doing, he mumbled to himself, ‘I should get her off my mind, it’s not like I could have the guts to walk up to her and say hi.’ Or so he thought. His mind kept replaying the scene, keeping him awake all night. He felt his cheeks warm up as he observed your beauty in his head. And so, that night was the worst yet best night he ever had. 

Rays of light peeking through the curtains, eyelids feeling heavy, he recalled what happened yesterday.

But Hakkai brushed it off and began his day with delicious breakfast and coffee while he watched tv. That’s when he thought of you again. He thought, why not shoot his shot? It wouldn’t be too bad, would it? However, this being Hakkai’s first love slaps him to reality. He thinks about how he doesn’t even talk to girls or pay attention to them at all. So how could a man like him have a chance with such a gorgeous woman like you?

But then, his doorbell rang. Shocked to hear his doorbell, he walks as fast as he can to his door to see who it was. Hakkai’s jaw dropped to see who was there. Standing at his doorstep, right in front of him, there stood the fine lady he’d seen yesterday.

“Hello! Good morning,” you spoke and nervously chuckled.

“Hi,” was all he could blurt out at the moment.

“I uh, have a small gift since I just moved here, I’m Y/n,” you responded and gave tarts as a small gift to Hakkai just like you did to your other neighbors.

He replied, “Oh yeah, thanks. I’m Hakkai, I hope you have a great stay here.”

Waving goodbyes at each other after your small talk, Hakkai felt a ray of hope. Placing the tarts you gave on the table, he sat on his chair while his heart raced. Too stunned to believe he had a conversation with you. He then planned to ask you out today for a little dinner. He was only four blocks away from you, so he planned and practiced alone on how he’d ask you out.

Later on, the moon makes its peak into the sky, along with bright stars. He follows his plan and walks on the way to your house. Wearing a white turtleneck with a beige suit and matching pants along with it. He wore a few rings too. It suited him very well. Well he IS a model after all. His shoe kept clacking as he walked. A few moments later, he finally reaches your house and seeing lights turned on, he assumes you’re home. He took a deep breath until finally, Ding dong your doorbell rang.

You went at your door as quickly as you could. The moment you opened your door you were quite shocked. “Oh it’s the attract- Hakkai,” you thought. Not knowing he was a model, you fought back your blush just like when you rang his doorbell earlier that day. Just like him, you never got his face out of your mind all day too. “Oh hey, what’s up?” you questioned. “Hey there, weird but I wanted to uh,” he paused for a moment, putting his hand on the back of his neck. “Hm?” 

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to dinner…? With me tonight -” “ -If possible,” he continued, a visible blush appearing from both of your faces.

“Of course! If you have time to wait, I’ll get ready in a moment?” You politely asked. “Yeah, sure,” Hakkai replied along with a sigh of relief. You then widely open your door as a sign of inviting him inside your house. You both came inside, and you welcomed him, “Make yourself at home while I get ready! Things haven’t been in place yet but there’s food in the fridge if you’d like.” While you rushed into your room, Hakkai sat on the couch in the living room, taking a good look.

A few minutes passed by, and you finally came out of your room. You wore a beige dress that you found in your closet to match Hakkai’s fit. “I’m ready to go!” you happily exclaimed. “You look great,” Hakkai responded with a big smile on his face. You both stepped out and Hakkai led you to his McLaren 720s.

Flashback, he actually just borrowed that from Taiju for this date. When he called Taiju and asked him, Taiju ofc said yes but he was a bit suspicious, so Taiju went and told Yuzuha the tea which led to Yuzuha spam texting and calling Hakkai and asked what this was about. Yuzuha, as Hakkai’s sister, had a gut feeling that he was actually going on a date, so Yuzuha smirked and said, “well then, if you don’t wanna tell me then whatever.” Hakkai sighed in victory until Yuzuha continued, “Just have fun on your date bro,” and ended the call. Hakkai got very flustered.

Going back to present time, Hakkai opened the passenger seat for you, like the gentleman he is, and closed it for you. You were amazed and let out a small “woah” which made Hakkai let out a small chuckle. You both were quiet the whole time, probably thinking of what to say when you both get into the restaurant. And there you were! At a classy and fancy restaurant that Hakkai chose. You both took your seats and told the waiter what you both wanted. While waiting, Hakkai spoke, “So, how’s your stay been so far?” he tried not to sound nervous and be casual. “It’s been good! All the neighbors were very nice to me. Especially you, since it hasn’t been too long and you’re taking me out to dinner. I admit, a bit weird but dinner with you sounded great,” you responded. Hakkai let out a small and quite deep hum as a response to what you said. You started the conversation his time, “Curious, no need to answer, but what exactly do you do for a living? I have to say, I’m quite impressed.” Hakkai wasn’t expecting that question, but he replied, “Thank you, I actually model for my friend! He’s a really good seamster.”  You thought, ‘No wonder he’s attractive’ you were basically internally screaming too. Your heart beating so fast and loud you only hoped he couldn’t hear it. “Ohh, what a coincidence. I used to model too! Not until I had to move here tho, but it’s no biggie,” you commented. Hakkai was so happy that you both were models. He knew you both would agree on so many things. “Hmm, if you’d like to model again, I could maybe introduce you to my friend? Then we’d both be his models and we’d be co-workers!” He happily responded. But then both of your orders came, and you had to eat before going back to that topic again.

After you both deliciously ate your meals, you started the conversation again. “Thank you for the meal. So, as you mentioned earlier about introducing me to your friend, I’d love to! Only if he thinks I fit as a model for him though,” you acknowledged. “Okay. How about the weekends? Does that sound good?” Hakkai asked. You hummed a ‘mhm’ as a response. 

Later on, you both went on your way home. Hakkai properly drove you back and dropped you off to your door shouting, “See you on the weekends, Y/n!” You replied, “Yep! See ya and thanks for dinner!” and closed your door. As soon as the both of you went home, you both dressed up into your pajamas and immediately slept, excited to meet again on the weekends.

The weekends came, you were quite nervous to meet Hakkai’s friend. Then you reached the building where Hakkai’s friend was. Of course, Hakkai had told his friend beforehand, so he was also looking forward to meeting you. The moment you reached in front of his door, Hakkai rang the doorbell and yelled, “Taka-chan!!!! We’re here!” The door opened and you and his lilac-haired friend greeted each other. Soon welcoming you into his sewing room. That’s where Hakkai introduced you to each other. “So Y/n, I heard you’d like to be my model?” Mitsuya asked. “Yes, only if I fit into your expectations though.” You replied. “Well then, you’re in! The more the merrier. Am I right, Hakkai?” Mitsuya questioned Hakkai. “Mhm,” Hakkai agreed.

Now of course, Mitsuya knew what was going on between you two. The moment Hakkai told him he found a girl who wanted to be his model, he very much knew. While you and Hakkai were merrily celebrating, Mitsuya mumbled to himself, “What a power couple these two would be.” 

© Matsuri

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Hed Kandi: Disco Kandi 2000 House / Garage House / Nu-Disco

Good God, what a terrific pair of discs here from the ever-consistent dance comp label Hed Kandi. With this first ever installment in their Disco Kandi series, the UK outfit supplies a steady stream of ephemeral house bangers from the late 90s and 2000, with a lot of the selections sounding contemporary, but also managing to channel an invigorating old-school disco spirit too. And many of these glitz-glammy, high-quality productions also collectively continue to progress from the sonic tradition that first started in famed New York DJ Larry Levan's Paradise Garage nightclub in the late 70s, where he nurtured a more vocally soulful and R&B-rooted house sound into the late 80s that would come to be known simply as 'garage.' And after the Paradise Garage's closure, that garage sound would find popularity at a club in New Jersey called Zanzibar too, where Tony Humphries would continue to spin it.

Now, despite a few of these tracks having somewhat remarkably high YouTube play counts, all of them were and still are definitely underground; that is, except for one. And this particular tune that I'm referring to wasn't just mainstream, but it really managed to lace the hell out of a lot of US contemporary hit radio stations back in the late 90s, even though it only ended up peaking at #52 on the Billboard Hot 100, overall. Basically, if you tuned into your local pop or more dance-oriented station on anything close to a regular basis back then, there's almost no way that you could've avoided one-off supertrio Stars on 54's cover of Gordon Lightfoot's 1970 soft folk-rock classic, "If You Could Read My Mind," which saw Amber, Jocelyn Enriquez, and Ultra Naté teaming up to record a song for the soundtrack to the disco period flick, 54. Really classic radio gold right there that a lot of people probably haven't thought about in a long while.

And then just as you're finished reminiscing on whatever fond memories you might hold that are associated with that particular song, quite possibly the most impressive track of all within this two-disc set ends up directly following it: the Matthew Roberts and Richard Fite remix of Eclipse's "Makes Me Love You." This one has a big, sun-shining pool party vibe to it, as it combines lustrous disco strings, funkily plucked guitar, a fuzzy-thick corrugated bassline, and piano keys, all while employing a lovely filter technique, which is that really popular thing that house musicians got to doing around this time period, in which certain elements sound distant and submerged, and as they continuously loop, keep sounding closer and clearer, until they satisfyingly breach the surface and hit their glorious peak. And that's maybe my favorite type of house music in the whole world 😊.

So, a really enjoyable way to spend over two and a half hours here, with a hefty dose of  super sleek house tunes, a lot of which are on a nu-disco and garage tip. And it was collected by the always seemingly on point Hed Kandi label too, which has never steered me wrong before!

Highlights:

CD1:

Cunnie Williams - "A World Celebration (Mousse T's Party Lick)" Lovestation - "Teardrops (Joey Negro 12" mix)" Bini + Martini -" Happiness (B+M's new re-edit)" Paul Johnson - "Get Get Down (Dancefloor dub)" Fire Island - "There but for the Grace of God (Joey Negro mix)" Soulsearcher - "Can't Get Enough (vocal club mix)" Stars on 54 - "If You Could Read My Mind (original club mix)" Eclipse - "Makes Me Love You (Morning Star mix)" Darryl Pandy meets Nerio's Dubwork - "Sunshine & Happiness (Nerio's Dubwork mix)" Glaubitz & Roc - "Sunshine Day (extended mix)" Jaydee vs. Bo Horne - "Spank (Exit EEE's alternative mix)"

CD2:

The Lab Rats presents The Experiment feat. Lisa Millett - "Music Is My Way of Life (Lab Rats Main Experiment)" Choo Choo Project - "Hazin' & Phazin' (Lab Rat's Funkin' With Choo Choo)" Sun Kids feat. Chance - "Rescue Me (Bini + Martini 999 Funk mix)" Phunkie Souls - "The Music (Richard F "Defected" re-edit)" Z-Factor - "Make a Move on Me (extended 12" mix)" Michael Moog - "That Sound (Full Intention mix)" Novy vs. Eniac - "Superstar (Full Intention mix)" Duke - "So in Love With You (Full Intention mix)"

[wordsandrobots]

IBO reference notes on … the Gundams (part 1)

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Addendum 1]

Or: a spotter’s guide to the Calamity War.

[Note: I tried to post this twice today before figuring out that one of the images was causing it to be consigned to Tumblr oblivion. Apparently a shot of Lt. Crank's gloved hand was too racy for this site. Yeah.]

I said at the time that the fanfic Of Obsessions and Erotemes was written as an alternative to writing an essay expanding on my thoughts regarding the Gundams in Iron-Blooded Orphans. This is probably not strictly accurate, however, and I've been struck by the urge to take a figurative walk through the canonical examples out of the 72 Gundam frame type mobile suits.

I want to focus on the Gundams as they started out during the Calamity War, as far as that is possible, and what this says about the nature of the conflict. I will probably follow up at some point with notes on the mobile armours too, since they are the flip-side of this narrative. As I’ve had cause to mention before, I’m generally content with not knowing too much about the historical event that serves as the basis for IBO’s world-building. I think that adds rather than subtracts from the story. Still, it is fun to play with what we get and piece together an impression of what happened three hundred years prior to the series’ beginning.

For the purposes of not writing a post ten thousand words long, I’ve split the Gundams into three groups based on numerical position in the master list, which is of course taken from the Ars Goetia. Here, I will be drawing on Crowley’s edition.

All images shown here are either borrowed from the Gundam Wiki or are my own screenshots.

As with all my posts like this, spoilers are present for everything.

The Gundam frame

Let’s start with what is under the hood, to whit: the Gundam mobile suit frame.

I covered some of this in my post on the aesthetics of the mobile frame concept, but the most important detail about the Gundam type is how human-like its proportions are, in both limb structure and eye placement. Unlike other frames, this is intended from the start to be used with an Alaya-Vijana system, so designing it to more closely approximate the human form makes a great deal of sense.

At the same time, there is something fittingly demonic about the skeleton, down to the claw-like fingers. However it must be noted that this is specifically Barbatos’ frame; the talons on on the feet are not reflected on the others. Indeed, based on the design work for Kimaris and Flauros, the feet are the part that varies the most from machine to machine.

A Gundam’s power – both in the sense of motive force and superior strength – comes from the twin Ahab reactors making up its torso. It’s the only mobile weapon in Iron-Blooded Orphans confirmed to have multiple reactors, with the implication that this boosts the output beyond simply adding the two together. Indeed, when operating at full capacity against a mobile armour, Barbatos seems barely able to contain its own energies.

Ancillary material states Ahab reactors are made ‘on a plant near a fixed star’, implying a difficult process to begin with (or at least a factory in orbit of the sun). Synchronising the reactors so they run in parallel is adding extra complexity on top of that, which is one of the reasons Gundam construction is a lost art. These things are the peak of mobile suit design and have never been equalled since they quite literally saved the world.

A Gundam, then, is not merely another weapon. It is the maximisation of human capacity, allowing a pilot to exceed their bodily limitations to destroy an inhuman enemy. We don’t know for sure the Calamity War pilots ended up in the same sorry state as Mikazuki (though the taleof Agnika Kaieru’s spirit residing inside Bael carries some interesting implications). But we do know the Alaya-Vijnana places extraordinary pressure on human physiology by its very nature, and the Gundams themselves come with competing limiters as a result. One that disengages in proximity to a mobile armour, allowing the full force of the reactors to be unleashed; another that switches on at that point, to stop this burst of power immediately overwhelming the operator. Only by accepting the danger can the pilot proceed with their attack.

It’s a duality of ultimate strength and ultimate risk that makes the Gundam frames seem like suitably desperate creations. They are the demons that prevented total apocalypse, while consuming their pilots body and soul.

ASW-G-01 Bael

The first king of the Hell, and therefore presumably the first Gundam to have been constructed. From latter machines, there is the suggestion that deployment order did not match the numerical codes, so it isn’t entirely clear if we can solidly say they are numbered in the order they were built. But it seems reasonable to assume that this represents the start of Gundam operational history.

If we can take Bael to exist in the present exactly as it did in the War, it is a relatively simple affair, sporting nothing more flashy than a pair of wing-like boosters (I say wing-like purely because they are not functionally wings; they’re more an elaborate jet-pack). From a design point of view, Bael otherwise matches exactly to the template set by the series’ hero machine, Barbatos: the armour and thruster placement is identical and we may take this to be the default.

The combat philosophy behind this machine appears to be the same too: strike fast and strike sharp. It follows that Agnika Kaieru was the kind to lead from the front. Indeed, kit manual text makes it clear he was self-sufficient in battle, taking down mobile armours solely with his twin swords. Given McGillis holds his own against an entire fleet for a while, this doesn’t feel like a stretch and it certainly explains why the man became such a legend.

The symbol on Bael’s left shoulder is the original Gjallarhorn logo, which more directly presents the source of the organisation’s name: the horn that sounds Ragnarök. This would later be elaborated into the flag used in the present while remaining as a some sort of badge/pin or medal on officers’ uniforms. I find that fitting, that something simple would be built up over time into a grander image, disguising the root truth. In many ways, that sums up Bael’s place in history.

From the Ars Goetia:

The first Principal Spirit is a King ruling in the East, called Bael. He maketh thee to go Invisible. He ruleth over 66 Legions of Infernal Spirits. He appeareth in divers shapes, sometimes like a Cat, sometimes like a Toad, and sometimes like a Man, and sometimes all these forms at once. He speaketh hoarsely. This is his character which is used to be worn as a Lamen before him who calleth him forth, or else he will not do thee homage.

Notably, the sigil used for Gundam Bael’s interface does not simply replicate the 'canonical’ seal from the Ars Goetia but rather reinterprets it.

Clearly OG Gjallarhorn had graphic designers on staff. Also, Bael’s main console screen is of a uniquely narrow design, in a rather elaborate housing. It would seem the cockpits were refined for later models, simplifying things towards a standard pattern seen in Kimaris and Gusion that would itself go on to become the standard for Gjallarhorn 'suits.

ASW-G-04 Gamigin

Pretty much all we know about Gamigin is that it exists, it was originally piloted by Kalf Falk and it made it out of the Calamity War in one piece. Oh and someone in the armoury department was having a laugh the day they issued this Gundam its weapons.

Seriously though, if Bael is the default, this is a heavy-duty model. Gamigin looks a hell of a lot less manoeuvrable, even accounting for the extra thrusters built into its skirt, and its standard-sized arms appear positively weedy compared to the heft of the body and legs. Clearly though, that was a trade-off deemed acceptable for the sake of destructive capacity.

The giant Gatling gun speaks for itself, but the revolver axe is the more interesting item here. As silly as it looks, it’s represents the (presumed) earliest incorporation of Dàinsleif weaponry into a Gundam frame mobile suit.

'Dàinsleif’ is a term used to refer to anything that launches javelin-like projectiles at high speed with the intent of puncturing nano-laminate armour. It’s unclear if the present ban on their use extends to smaller-scale versions like this, which is a point-blank deployment of the technology.

The blunt side of that axe is designed to strike an enemy and fire a spike straight through it. Crude but effective. Or so we can assume given this machine was piloted by one of the first Seven Stars and therefore must have destroyed a great many mobile armours.

From the Ars Goetia (Samigina/Gamigin):

The Fourth Spirit is Samigina, a Great Marquis. He appeareth in the form of a little Horse or Ass, and then into Human shape doth he change himself at the Request of the Master. He speaketh with a hoarse voice. He ruleth over 30 Legions of Inferiors. He teaches all Liberal Sciences, and giveth account of Dead Souls that died in sin. And his Seal is this, which is to be worn before the Magician when he is Invocator, etc.

This is one of several demons with multiple names listed in the Ars Goetia. There doesn’t appear to be any pattern to which was picked as the ID for the corresponding Gundam.

ASW-G-08 Barbatos

Teiwaz are stated to have restored Barbatos to its original state so we can assume the 4th form represents the version that fought in the Calamity War. Given this, it likely used a katana in battle, as the sword Teiwaz provides bears the same logo as the 'suit and we know from their work on Flauros that Gundams store information about their own weaponry (see also Mikazuki’s sudden competence with it when he connects deeper to Barbatos).

Intriguingly, with the retroactive introduction of predecessor designs, it appears Barbatos takes cues from both Bael and Gamigin, which ties these three low-numbered models together nicely. It is also relatively unspecialised in comparison, lacking the features that mark out the previous two. When found, it had a small buckler shield built into a gauntlet on its left forearm, similar to those the 5th form in the series would use. However, there’s no indication if this was used as a mount for mortars like the later version, leaving us with a machine that appears to have been a simple melee combatant.

The absence of gimmicks showcases just how powerful Gundams are in comparison to other mobile suits, at a baseline. In any given fight during Season 1, Barbatos is faster, stronger, and more adaptable than its opposition, and while we see it built up with add-ons over the course of the series, those often seem to get in the way or provide only passing advantages.

Since my focus is on the Calamity War, I’m not going to go into any detail regarding the Lupus and Lupus Rex forms. But I will posit the idea Barbatos’ original pilot was of a different temperament to Mikazuki. If it is indeed their 'ghost’ who comes to his aid in Edmonton – some trace left behind in the system that allows him to understand the katana in the nick of time – they seem to have been a master of that weapon, favouring lethal precision, in stark contrast to Mikazuki’s gradual transformation into an animalistic, living weapon.

(The mace that Mikazuki leads with seems to have been something Maruba bought for possible use if he could ever get Barbatos running, rather than a relic of it previous operations.)

From the Ars Goetia:

The Eighth Spirit is Barbatos. He is a Great Duke, and appeareth when the Sun is in Sagittary, with four noble Kings and their companies of great troops. He giveth understanding of the singing of Birds, and of the Voices of other creatures, such as the barking of Dogs. He breaketh the Hidden Treasures open that have been laid by the Enchantments of Magicians. He is of the Order of Virtues, of which some part he retaineth still; and he knoweth all things Past, and to Come, and conciliateth Friends and those that be in Power. He ruleth over 30 Legions of Spirits. His Seal of Obedience is this, the which wear before thee as aforesaid.

Again, we see a redesign of the seal for Gundam Barbatos’ start-up sigil.

I like the choice to make the lines more dynamic.

ASW-G-11 Gusion

We don’t know if this is what Gusion started out looking like. Gusion was found in a debris zone and passed through various hands before it reached the Brewers, and we know the Brewers’ Man Rodis are custom jobs, more heavily armoured than standard Rodi frame models. On balance, this is probably something they cooked up to fit their requirements.

But gives us an idea of the limits of a Gundam frame’s flexibility. The arms and legs have been stretched outwards from the main body to accommodate the armour load-out. You can see a glimpse of the piston that operates the hip joint under the skirt in the image above, providing a sense of where the legs have been moved. Quite how this works is unclear since we only see the head exposed when the Turbines start deconstructing this form. The fact it does work emphasises just how far the Gundams can be reconfigured. The Turbines even go so far as installing extra arms into the Rebake version given to Akihiro, seemingly with no issues at all.

Gusion also provides an example of the fate suffered by quite a number of the Gundam frames: that of being lost and forgotten after battles during the Calamity War. The figure provided for how many frames are known to have survived is 26, but it’s unclear where that sits in the timeline of IBO canon, throughout which several Gundams are uncovered from previously hidden resting places. Certainly it appears only a minority of such 'suits remain in Gjallarhorn’s custody. While some have most likely been destroyed outright, many may still be drifting among debris fields or buried at the sites of battles from three hundred years ago.

It’s a neat conceit, leaving fertile ground for fanfiction or spin-offs to play on, and underscores that these machines belong to a bygone era most have forgotten about.

From the Ars Goetia:

The Eleventh Spirit in order is a great and strong Duke, called Gusion. He appeareth like a Xenopilus. He telleth all things, Past, Present and to Come, and showeth the meaning and resolution of all questions thou mayest ask. He conciliateth and reconcileth friendships, and giveth Honour and Dignity unto any. He ruleth over 40 Legions of Spirits. His Seal is this, the which wear as aforesaid.

The connection between the machine or pilot and the Ars Goetia descriptions is somewhat variable throughout this list. In some instances there’s nothing obvious at all. However, I love that Gusion bestows honour and dignity because of how beautifully it ties into Akihiro’s arc. This said … I don’t actually know what a 'Xenopilus’ is. My first thought was 'Xenopus’ and a frog motif certainly would explain Gundam Gusion’s appearance. But I don’t think that’s right? Answers on a postcard, please.

That’s where we’ll leave things for today. I will probably post the next instalment sometime tomorrow.

Other reference posts include:

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (Part 1)

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (Part 2)

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (corrigendum) [mainly covering my inability to recognise mythical wolves]

IBO reference notes on … three key Yamagi scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Shino scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Eugene scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Ride scenes

IBO reference notes on … the tone of the setting

IBO reference notes on … character parallels and counterpoints

IBO reference notes on … a perfect villain

IBO reference notes on … Iron-Blooded Orphans: Gekko

IBO reference notes on … an act of unspeakable cruelty

IBO reference notes on … original(ish) characters [this one is mainly fanfic]

IBO reference notes on … Kudelia’s decisions

IBO reference notes on … assorted head-canons

IBO reference notes on … actual, proper original characters [explicit fanfic – as in, actually fanfic. None of them have turned up in the smut yet]

IBO reference notes on … the aesthetics of the mobile frame

IBO reference notes on … mobile suit designations

[raineehavenday]

Sky Cotl Daily Quests! Aug 9th

I have learned not to press CTRL+z, because instead of just undoing one thing, it undoes every single photo I have added, and every single paragraph I have written past the first photo. Please end my suffering. Tumblr, wtf.

Today's Quests. <eye twitch>

Collect 30 pieces of light

Take a selfie with Crab Whisperer in Prairie Peaks

Meditate above the citadel arch in the Valley

Relive this spirit memory from Valley of Triumph (Manta Whisperer)

To start, lets go to the VALLEY OF TRIUMPH, where most of today's quests can be completed.

I'd now like to take a moment to mention that you should make sure to collect every candle you can, not only because TGC will be throwing a bunch of events at us soon, but also because the first quest of today is just about collecting pieces of light! So collect them. They don't need to be from Valley, either, so have fun!

Now that we've done that, head into Valley just in case you haven't already, silly goose. Here, we already have our first seasonal candle!

From here, go on the normal path down the slippery slopes and head to the next area (Make sure to collect the candles on the way down!!) Then, there will be three more candles there. The first can be found on the center platform, and the next two are on either side of the entrance to the flight side of Valley.

From here, enter the door you're right next to. Keep flying forward till you see this. Make sure to keep some flying power so you can find our next quest: Meditation.

Now from up there, look around until you can see this view. Facing the city, look down and to the right.

Fly down towards this area, and hidden beside the middle staircase is today's spirit. (I recommend doing this with friends or strangers from the server,)

This spirit will quite possibly cause off-putting levels of rage. The partical of light you chase after moves around in the air, changing its height and location. I am so sorry. I could not get good screenshots, however just follow the blue star on your screen. I can only really show you the first shard of this memory, which is only rising up the stairs.

Then, when you are finally done, you have done the next quest

Now, if you want you can go through the rest of valley to collect light, and do the races in order to get candles. However, when you're ready, return home, and then approach the seasonal guide.

Talk to him, and teleport to him. Make sure youre camera is equipped!

Just like two days ago, leave the cave and find yourself back at what I find to be the prettiest view of Prairie Peaks.

Start flying in this direction

Find the waterfall in the distance, and fly to it

Here is our spirit!

Take the much anticipated selfie...

Once again if you've made it down here, thank you so much! Please consider liking, following, or reblogging as it would help me very much. Not really because I want to be drowned in notifs, but just because it's what motivates me to keep me going; knowing someone saw and enjoyed what I spend my time on. Thank you again!

Happy flying <3

(Edit: I fixed the title's date. I put the 7th instead of the 9th)

[comradesbooks]

CRASH COURSE IN WRITING MAGIC SYSTEMS THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR

Disclaimer: I reference some popular media in this post to use as examples of what and what not to do when writing magic systems in fiction. In spite of my horrible sense of humor, understand that I’m not berating any series, I’m just making a point. Like what you like.

AHEM.

In a medieval or ancient fantasy world, magic is a staple, and while it can be a challenge at times to work with a magic system, I’ve found that effective magic systems have three clearly established factors playing into them. These factors are as follows:

1. Rules and Limits

2. Plausible Purpose and Canonical Background

3. CONSISTENCY

1. Rules and Limits. When it comes to writing a magic system, I feel that the most daunting part of it is the sheer amount of freedom you have with it. It’s to your custom. There are no rules until you set them, and if you don’t set firm rules in your magic system, you end up with a weird free for all that makes your story fall flat. The hero needs to reach the peak of some secluded mountain to battle an ancient wizard threatening to destroy the world? Let’s just teleport to the guy and hit him a few times with lightning until he dies! That’ll do it! With logic like that, you have a story that lasts less than 10,000 words. And no lonely soul in the wee hours of a Sunday morning is going to want to read that to pass the time. 

This is why rules and limitations are vital to any magic system. Say your aforementioned hero (who is currently trying to reach that wizard but has no clue where he is) works with magic or has a sidekick who works with magic. Now say that this world does have teleportation magic, which is pretty OP. How do we limit it? Well, maybe teleportation, although possible, is dangerous because it makes the user tired, which is pretty impractical when you’re getting ready to have a final showdown with an all-powerful wizard. This could lead to a side arc that the hero must go through in order to reach the pesky wizard, therefore adding conflict to the story and opportunities to meet new characters, develop your world, and lengthen your adventure.

Earlier seasons of The Fairly Odd Parents come to mind. For those who grew up watching Butch Hartman’s brainchild, you might remember Da Rules, a huge book full of all the rules a godchild and his fairies must follow during their partnership. While rules are made up on the spot in some episodes, there are quite a few that stick around throughout the series and act as a hindrance in Timmy’s hare-brained schemes. In one early episode, Timmy wishes that he was the best skate-boarder in the world. This is fun, until he is challenged by his evil babysitter to a skating contest. Because of the stated rule that he can’t make wishes to win contests, Timmy is stripped of his magical skills, and is forced to git gud on his own in order to beat Vicky. If it weren’t for this simple rule being established early on in the series, the episode would have never happened at all. It’s a simple and childish example, but it gets the point across well enough. 

Put bluntly, limitation and necessity are the parents of invention. If you don’t have rules, you don’t have conflict, and if your story doesn’t have conflict, then you don’t have a story.

2. Plausible Purpose and Canonical Background. Why does your world even have magic in the first place? Why does it exist? How does it exist? How does it affect your story and the characters in it? If it’s just a background element or plot device, either edit it out of your story, or rework your story to make it important, if you want magic so badly. If characters rely on magic for their way of life, make it clear how magic affects people and how they use it in their day to day lives. If magic isn’t a common occurrence, do people fear and shun it? This could be a driving force in your story. 

To add to this, magic systems are about as interesting as their origins are. Magic doesn’t just exist. That’s not unique. It should have some kind of explanation to it. Even if it’s vague, it’s fine, if there’s a good enough reason. Maybe no one knows its true origins and so it’s only crazy theories that exist, which could be up to the reader to determine magic’s origins in that world. Open-ended world-building and characterization can be interesting, if done well.

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim is a good example. Skyrim introduces a new magic system to the Elder Scrolls series; the Thu’um. To put it bluntly, the Thu’um is an ancient school of magic that was used only by Dragons. Humans couldn’t use it until a goddess allowed them to use it to fight the Dragons in ancient times, because without it, humans had no chance of overthrowing their cruel masters. Canonically, the Thu’um is a very powerful kind of magic, which at one point was used to break a piece of Skyrim off during a battle between two Dragon Priests, Miraak and Vahlok. The story behind the human use of the Thu’um is pretty metal, and therefore, interesting! While it doesn’t have to be quite that brutal, there should be an interesting story to the magic, which could also play into the rules limiting the use of that magic. Using Skyrim as an example again, while humans can use the Thu’um, it requires decades of training to actually do anything with it because the practice is not natural to humans like it is to Dragons. While a handful of mortals have been born with the ability to use the Thu’um without much training at all, only very few have existed in history, and even fewer actually used their gift. The magic is insanely powerful, but has strict limits and rules, depending on who is using, limiting the amount of people who can use it.

Use of the magic system shouldn’t be all the same either. There are different people who are going to practice it, and those different people are going to have different perspectives on the craft. A great example to look at is bending in Avatar: The Last Airbender. While the bending of elements in the show is technically a martial art, it’s treated like a magic system. Each nation has its own style when dealing with their respective element. Waterbenders are more fluid in their motions when waterbending, while earthbenders are very rigid and forceful when they’re chucking rocks at your face. Firebenders are offensive and aggressive, while airbenders are defensive and agile, preferring avoidant tactics in combat. Variations exist, such as the three main Waterbending styles, according to Wan Shi Tong; Northern Style, Southern Style, and Foggy Swamp Style. Some intellectualoids like Toph are knowledgeable enough to make brand new techniques completely unheard of in their craft in the form of metalbending, lavabending, bloodbending, and lightningbending. Others, like Iroh, are even able to borrow from other elements to come up with completely new techniques, like lightning redirection and using different parts of the body to firebend when the limbs are bound. Having multiple ideals in a world not only creates organic diversity, but also opens the doors to conflict. What if two kinds of magic users with differing ideologies clash? What kind of chaos could ensue?

3. CONSISTENCY. It’s pretty simple on paper, but writers seem to struggle with keeping their magic systems consistent. A small example in High Guardian Spice would is the portal magic introduced in the first episode by Aloe. If you have a portal that can take you from Point A to Point B with no established limits, why didn’t Sage and Rosemary just teleport from their hometown to the Academy? When the girls get trapped in a cave, why didn’t they just magic their way out using portals? Avoiding plot holes is easy if you stay consistent. If you write yourself into a corner, consider reworking the previous two factors in your story. To prevent writing yourself into a corner, plan your novel out before you write it, and don’t be afraid to rework some things if you get stuck. They’re called drafts for a reason!

This little brainbarf boils down to:

You make the rules in magic systems. Those rules can be whatever the heck you want, but to make a good product, you need to stick to the rules you set, and still find a way to make it interesting.

Take everything I say here with a grain of salt, as I’m mainly a fanfiction writer, however I have worked with fantasy games, and have rewritten some magic systems to make them more “novel-friendly”. (*cough cough* Skyrim, I’m lookin at you *cough cough*) 

Just understand that everything I said is entirely correct and valid and if you think otherwise, you are automatically wrong in every way.

I can provide examples of my own work with magic systems, if anyone is curious. I can also write up a part two, if anyone is open to discussion!