#writing advisements

[olivieblake]

I, my dagger, and my bottomless pit of opinions on children's television return to chat in reply to asks/reviews/comments in a series of boldly shameless rambles wherein I, Olivie Blake, am not writing. Today's topics include revisiting MY MECHANICAL ROMANCE for Holi (0:40), a nice lil eyeful of the GIRL DINNER advance reader copies (2:36), undressing GIFTED & TALENTED for a flirty look under the cover (3:22), music, movies, and TV I've recently consumed (4:39), enjoying the wow that's happening now (instead of obsessing about your boyfriend's past relationships) (13:03), deciding which creative project to work on first (20:36), character-first secondary worldbuilding (23:15), and a few ARCs I'm looking forward to reading (28:07).

[ gifted & talented tour links, my episode of ve schwab's no write way ]

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Touch-Starved (canon)

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otherwise known as; the part where The Puppetmaster finds out he has THE FEELINGS(™, patent pending) for the Combat Harlequin. lmfao

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"Almost..." His hand trembled at the last piece required. He carefully slotted the optics in place, and twisted the eye multiple times to stick it in place. Within moments, he steps back, and Bubble flared up alive again, checking out his new, updated vision. “Wow! I can see more colors now!” The Blimp spun in place.

“Those new eyes should allow you to broadcast anything you see to me, if I so wished.” He explains, pulling out a small, thin black screen from one of the the desk’s many compartment. He switches it on, and Bubble’s eyes suddenly have a tiny red dot blinking in the middle of it.

So far, so good. The device was working as intended and he could see the top of his dentures from Bubble’s perspective, making Caine grin proudly.

“You may proceed to do your chores once more, the upgrades are done.” He sends the blimp to his merry way, and Bubble only nods before turning away to make his way out of the office. He leans back with a content sigh and closed eyes, satisfied with the work done for the day.

At that very moment, Pomni also opens the door.

She looked… disheveled, to say the least.

“Oh hey Pomni!” The butler blimp greeted with his usual reply. The Harlequin only sent him a look of acknowledgement, knowing that it’s useless to try to spark up a conversation, as Bubble was already making his way out.

Caine blinked once, and then he blinked twice just to make sure he’s seeing things right.

Was she always this… dazzling? Literally? He could see sparkles forming everywhere.

She flipped her hair in a messy attempt to get rid of the strands currently stuck to the skin of her nape. Her trademark golden ponytail missing, most likely a B.O.S.S.’s doing. She made her way to Caine’s desk and he swears he could feel his heart beat faster and faster with each step she took. The Harlequin’s trademark squinted brows with half-lidded eyes meeting his own wide stare, a gaze that would typically make any person with a still-functioning sanity cower in fear.

She took a seat on his desk with her legs crossed and her back turned against him and leaning on her right arm, as she usually did.

“Here’s the die you asked for. Took me a bit, but still got the job done.” She checked her left arm for damages after she placed the multi-colored puppet heart in front of him, while she flashed her teeth with a victorious, smug smile. His words are caught in his throat and her entirety shines too brightly for him. He couldn’t understand it.

Why… did she seem like a flame, and he felt like an unsuspecting moth, drawn to her light?

He shook his head clear and forced his stare away from her direction, clearing his throat while clutching the die. “I-I see, thank you, Pomni. You-you’ve done… a… wonderful…” Her hand grasped his own and his heart leapt at his own throat. Her synthetic, calloused fingers felt so rough, yet so gentle against his own gloved ones that he considered taking them off.

“...j-job.” His breath hitched as he struggled to finish the end of his sentence, unable to tear his attention away from her eyes. He found himself gawking at her intense, golden eye matched with blue and red pinwheel ones.

“Aren't you forgetting something, Puppetmaster?” Her expression questioning, yet with a slight and subtle undertone of mischief glinted at her optics. 

He couldn’t speak. He struggled to form coherent words. It felt like he was being strangled by an unknown force clutching at his neck, yet there was clearly no malice behind it. 

“Wh… What am I forgetting…?” He asked in such a feeble tone that made her chuckle in such a low rumbling tone, snaring his full attention.

“Well, I think that I deserve a reward for my services. Don’t you think?” She stands up. Warm hands suddenly felt so cold and empty, and already he missed the warmth present just about a second ago. The Harlequin made her way towards him as he spun his chair to meet her halfway. Hand at her hips as she towered over his sitting form. He’s all of a sudden clutching at the armrest so intensely.

“Y-yes, of course! H-how could I forget!” He nervously chuckles, he would pull on his collar right about now. “What is it you wish to be rewarded with?”

He offers her his best smile, and she giggles as she shakes her head. Without any warning, she took a seat on his lap, and he went frozen. As if making one single move would shatter the very fabric of the universe. She leaned her head to his shoulder, fiddling with the collar of his shirt then her fingers trailed onto the underside of his chin to make him look at her. He shivered from the contact.

“You.”

He trembled as his face warmed up to uncontrollable degrees, and produced visible heat waves. Not even his self-installed coolants were helping him tone down the sudden rise in his body temperature in the slightest. He couldn’t control his shakes, making the Harlequin smirk, knowing that she had the Puppetmaster all wrapped around her finger.

He didn’t know what came over him, because now his own hands were making their way onto her thighs to pull her closer to him entirely, the other shakingly placing itself onto her shoulders and he could feel the way she sighs contentedly against his touch. He exhales a shaky breath himself, attempting to steel himself.

“M-my dear, a-are you positive that… that is what you’d like?”

It was better to be safe than sorry. She sits up straight, and for the first time, he regrets ever asking that question in the first place.

“Actually…” Her voice trails off playfully, while she stands up. “... Maybe I’d like something more.”

It only took her a finger underneath his chin to pull him as she leads him to a nearby wall. As if his own body had a mind of it’s own, he pins her in place with both arms adjacent to her head. His face leans in closer and closer to her with eyes closed, and she’s leaning up close to him, fully ready to accept his advances.

Pomni’s soft lips met his teeth, and Caine could smell the faint traces of grass and sweat rolling down from her synthetic skin, evident of her hardships from the recent battle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his loops around her waist to pull her closer, while the other cups at her face intensely. He savored her mouth as their breathing became heavy and fast-paced, only breaking apart for a mere second, gasping for air before delving back in to their desires.

Desire…

Quite the accurate depiction of how Caine truly felt for the Harlequin at this moment. He couldn’t quite decipher when this had started, though.

As if her intentions were to pry him away from his overbearing and unnecessary thoughts, Pomni pushed him away to pin him to the wall this time, continuing the liplock. He grunts from the impact, but gladly returns her enthusiasm with fervor as he loops his arm around her back, pulling her flush to him once more. Her hands made their way to the lower sides of his jaw to caress so gently, and he finds himself melting at every contact their touches made.

Without breaking the teeth-on-lip-lock, he steered their bodies onto the direction of his desk, leaving the Harlequin laying on it as he loomed over her, ravaging her mouth once more like the touch-starved man he was. He adjusted her thighs just enough to make room for him without making the position uncomfortable for the both of them, their heated make out session felt like it could go on forever as he gripped her waist tightly.

It felt like if he let her go, she would disappear all of a sudden. And he didn’t want that.

He made sure to not lean too much of his body weight onto her by propping himself up with his elbows, both hands find themselves cupping her face to keep her in place as her hands trailed all the way up from the lower arms to his shoulders to do the same to him. He broke the kiss to gasp for air, a string of saliva being the clear proof of their heated action, but quickly delved back into the riveting sensations of their activity. 

Her touch against him were like magic; every contact sent shivers and jolts down his spine as she switched from holding his shoulders to holding his chest just above where a collarbone would traditionally be, pushing him away to let herself up. For a nanosecond he thought that maybe he went a little too far with his advances, until she disproved his theory by shoving him to one of the nearby long couches, only a pillow to cushion and soften his landing onto the furniture.

Quickly making up for lost time and contact, she quickly crawls to straddle his waist, clutching the back of his head to make him look at her, and her only. His hand found itself gripping at the back of her waist tightly once more, the other clutching her own head just to make sure she’s still there with him. Both were panting heavily, the room temperature very much heated as a result of their affairs.

His eyes looked at her longingly as he breathed heavily. “Pomni… I… I don’t think I want this to end.”

She flashed him a consoling smile.

The alarm rings, deafening the surroundings as he jolts awake, falling from his chair comically with a loud, slightly high-pitched scream emitting from his throat. He groans from the headache he had received from the impact to the ground, clutching at the top sides of his jaw, as he leans his head onto the desk for support.

His false heart was beating faster than when one would run; His face was flushed and he frustratingly ignores the heat from the rest of his body with a grumble.

He shifts his eyes to look around. Nothing’s changed. Everything was the same since Bubble left to do his daily chores.

He shakes his head and slams his face down onto the elegant desk, groaning depressingly and half-sobbing.

What the fuck? Was… WAS IT ALL JUST A DAMN DREAM!?

Oh, he could scream and cry into a pillow right about now. But the panicked angry screaming of a certain someone being bothered by the recent addition; the Ragdoll Mannequin that was “Ragatha”, suddenly grabs his attention. Now, he’s looking outside into the manor grounds from his office’s windows with a tired and questioning gaze.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

“But Mistress! You still haven’t tried out my trademark cookie recipe!! It’s GUARANTEED to be your instant favorite!”

“STOP CALLING ME MISTRESS! FOR THE LAST TIME, I DON’T CARE, GET THE FUCK AWAY-”

Caine sighed disappointingly to himself, dragging his hand across his eyes.

God fucking dammit. He actually feels something for her.

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I would say I'm sorry, but we all know I'm not. :)

[bluerosefox]

Recluse Owner, Bookshelf Gremlin, and the Cute Cafe Guy

A new bookstore/cafe opens, almost overnight, in Gotham.

They say it can find very rare books, heck maybe even books lost to time, unfinished manuscripts, rare writings from famous writers, etc etc.

As long as you respect the books within you won't have a problem with the recluse and introvert owner GW.

As for the cafe side, you can always count on friendly Danny to help you out, either it be an order from his cafe or to finding a book if GW isn't around. (Though beware of the younger, sometime around Dani (with an I) is working, she's a bit of a troll compared to her brother)

Jason totally is checking the place out... You know cause its totally giving weird vibes (good weird vibes, almost like its calming the raging Pits) and not just because it has a first edition Jane Austin (that the owner is totally maybe thinking of selling to Jason cause he can sense this man would treat it with respect)... Or that the tea is calming as heck.... Or watching Dani ("I like you. You can totally call me Ellie!") chaotically troll everyone around her.... Or that her older brother is fucking cute as hell... Who he may or may not had watched accidentally kill the Joker when the guy had been closing up the shop alone one night and had been caught in the alleyway on his way home...

No its totally cause this place is... off. Nothing else.

[celestialwrites]

fluffy romance prompts + dialogue [valentine’s edition<3]

@celestialwrites for more!

♡ character A waking up to roses, not just a bouquet, but roses covering every square inch of their home.

♡ character thinking their s/o forgot valentine’s but comes home to a huge surprise.

♡ “i thought you didn’t like valentines?” “i don’t like valentines, but i like you.”

♡ characters reenacting their first date/first time they met.

♡ “i don’t want you to just be my valentine, i want you to be mine forever. not just for today.”

♡ a valentine’s proposal in a field of roses.

♡ character A waking up to a burnt breakfast with a bouquet of flowers, character B being shy about burning the breakfast.

♡ a valentine’s bookstore date<3

♡ “don’t cry, i hate seeing you cry.” “how could i not cry? you got me a giant teddy bear!”

♡ “thank you for not letting me be alone on valentine’s day.”

♡ matching little dainty tattoos.

♡ characters in a secret relationship sending flowers to each other under their false names for each other.

♡ “you’re always my favourite.”

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS<3

[edwardteachswombtattoo]

We don't really get an explanation of why Ed is wearing Buttons' clothes in Episode 7 (and the start of Episode 8), but I like to think it's because Ed saw Buttons turn into a seagull proving that change can happen even if it seems impossible and then Ed tries to embody that for himself by wearing Buttons' clothes as a reminder people can in fact change. Just because you're a pirate doesn't mean you have to be a pirate forever, you know?

[not-an-ai]

We know that Dream was fed raw potatoes in the prison, and nothing else. And in many fanfics, Dream doesn't eat them and they rot, I feel what most people are forgetting is that potatoes are the best vegetable possible. And what do potatoes also do? Grow in weird conditions, like sprouting in your kitchen when you haven't used them in awhile. They grow anywhere. I.e; this meme, thus, I think it is very important to talk about the cell Dream is covered and quite possibly taken over by potatoes. Because eventually the chest and the book thingy would decompress as they are made of wood, and potatoes could grow in/on them, and if you are doing an au where Dream dies in the prison and no one removes his body for whatever reason. When someone finally finds it, potatoes are growing out of it. Or if it is an immortal Dream au, there are potatoes growing in/out of Dream.

[meteortrails]

btw I really do genuinely want mel and santos to hook up soooooo bad. I don’t think they should date (frankly I don’t think either of them could handle that and they’d be too aware of that to try I think) but like. one night where they both make what they think is an out of character bad decision (ooc for santos bc she usually goes for women more willing to bully her) and have alarmingly enjoyable sex that they agree to never speak of again afterwards. santos goes into it kinda trying to piss mel off for fun but mel ends up being very earnestly invested in making sure santos is having a good time, and it turns out they’re the kind of hookup partners you can kinda laugh with during sex, and overall it’s just. nice??? to the point that it’s honestly worse than if it sucked ass (at least then nobody would’ve been emotionally vulnerable!! much less embarrassing). santos is resigned to having another weird ex fling at her workplace but they actually end up being sort of friends after this and they’re both still kinda unsure how to feel about it.

[diazsdimples]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

We sure are teasing this Tuesday! Continuing on with my Buddie Sauna Sex fic and accidentally wrote 2k of filth in an hour so that was fun! Please enjoy some of the beginning of the spicy.

Tagged by @smilingbuckley thank you!

Buck knees in front of Eddie and stares up at him, almost reverentially. It’s like he’s kneeling in front of an altar, baring his soul to a God and when he whisper’s Eddie’s name, it’s like a benediction. Eddie’s legs spread almost instinctively to accommodate Buck’s body between them, and Buck rests his cheek on Eddie’s thigh. “Can I – please, can I…?” Eddie’s throat clicks as he swallows hard and he nods, his hand moving to cup the back of Buck’s head, fingers scratching through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Buck watches as Eddie’s eyes flutter closed when he presses a kiss against the soft skin of his inner thigh, and he allows a small smile to spread as he turns his head to nuzzle against the crease where Eddie’s leg meets his groin. He takes a deep breath, filling his nose with the heady, masculine smell of Eddie, and licks a long stripe from the base of Eddie’s balls, up the shaft of his cock, pausing only to press a kiss to the head. The sound that tears out of Eddie at that is one of the hottest things Buck has ever heard. He takes the whole of the head into his mouth, his tongue pressed flat to the underside, teasing at the frenulum. He sucks gently, his tongue swirling, and he feels Eddie shudder. His hips buck and his fingers tighten in Buck's hair, but he doesn't try and push him further down. Buck takes another deep breath through his nose, and relaxes his throat as best he can, moving down, down, down, until his nose presses into the dark, wiry hairs at the base. When he's adjusted to the size of Eddie’s cock, pausing in the perfect goldilocks zone where he can feel Eddie heavy against his tongue, taste him at the back of his throat, but still be able to breathe, he chances a look up, his eyes locking Eddie's. He looks wrecked already, pupils blown wide, and his lips are parted slightly as he pants. The heat from the sauna has him slick with sweat, making his chest and abs shiny, the hairs damp and all too inviting. "Jesus Christ, Buck."

No pressure tagging

@theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @watchyourbuck @neverevan

@bidisasterevankinard @babybibuck @aroeddiediaz @spotsandsocks @bibuckbuckgoose

@alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @wikiangela @loveyouanyway

@cal-daisies-and-briars @exhuastedpigeon @epicbuddieficrecs @kitteneddiediaz @hermscat

@thekristen999 @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @actuallyitsellie @idealuk @dangerpronebuddie

@loserdiaz @elvensorceress @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings

@thewolvesof1998 @spagheddiediaz

[muldersfingers]

I want to know about every one of those WIPs, but "ill-advised s1 sex fic" ?? I need to know more immediately, please.

Ohhhh so.

I started writing it on the premise that they start sleeping together from s1 and continue to have sex when they need comfort from each other. I guess I was gonna develop the relationship further idk. It begins at Squeeze. I was gonna strip it for parts for our First Time fest thing lol (as I drew Beyond The Sea and the second time they have sex is then)

I think ultimately I abandoned it because it felt a little toxic for them to be sleeping together when one of them is vulnerable. Oooh I just remembered this was my original enemies to lovers premise but I couldn't make them hate each other lmao. Teacher AU is my second attempt at enemies to lovers and that is going much better.

First scene of ill-advised s1 sex fic under the cut! (This is long lmao 2500 words of mostly smut!)

“I’m fine, Mulder.”

She was very visibly far from fine. Her eyes were wide and she was trembling, although she was making a decent effort to hide it. 

“You should stay with someone,” he insisted gently. 

“I am not going to be driven out of my own apartment.” Scully shrugged softly. “He’s in jail, Mulder. I feel perfectly safe. You should go, it’s late.”

“Scully-”

I’m made of tough stuff, Mulder. Go, I’ll be alright.”

Scully’s walls. Her mask. He knew she wasn’t fine, but what could he do? It wasn’t appropriate for him to continue to push, or to insist on staying when she had asked him to leave.

He tenderly placed a hand on the top of her head, stroking her hair briefly before smiling and heading towards the door.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

“Got it. Bye, Mulder.”

He exited her apartment and shook his head. She could be infuriating sometimes.

All he could do was wait for a call from her that likely wouldn’t come. He climbed into his car, sighing and dropping his head back against the headrest. They caught Tooms, he had to focus on that. He got to her apartment before she was sans liver, and Tooms couldn’t complete his cycle.

He shook his head and sighed again, pulling his cellphone from his pocket. He would head off home in a minute, but he should make a call first.

“Mom?” he said into the phone. “Hi, Mom. It’s Fox. Just returning your call, but, uh… I guess it’s pretty late. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He hung up the phone and threw it onto the passenger seat. As he reached round to grab his seatbelt, he saw her.

Scully hurried down the external steps of her apartment building, duffel bag in hand. She had changed from the clothing she had worn when Tooms attacked her, now clad in oversized comfy apparel. She quickly moved to her car, looking around self-consciously and fumbling with her keys.

Mulder flung his door open across the street from her, crossing quickly. She startled violently.

“God, you scared me.” She huffed air out through her nose. “Were you spying on me, Mulder?”

“I was making a phone call before heading home. You were waiting for me to leave, weren’t you? So I didn’t see that you weren’t okay.”

“It’s not your problem, Mulder.”

“Scully,” Mulder replied, incredulous. “Look, you’re in no state to drive. Let me stay with you here, or come back to my apartment.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t stay here. Not tonight.”

He took her bag and led her to his car.

-

Scully was quiet on the drive, and when Mulder opened the door to his apartment she crossed straight to the couch and curled up in one corner. 

“Can I get you anything?”

Scully looked around. She looked small and vulnerable, and Mulder felt helpless. It was jarring and uncomfortable, seeing her like this.

“A blanket, please?”

“Sure.” Mulder crossed into his bedroom, quickly fetching a blanket from his closet. “But I hope you’re not planning on sleeping on the couch. That’s my spot.”

“You sleep here?”

“Where else? My bed?” Mulder scoffed. 

Scully managed a small smile as she took the blanket and shook it out, snuggling up in it. Mulder slipped off his suit jacket, tossing it onto the armchair. He loosened and yanked off his tie.

“Will you sit with me?”

“Of course.”

Mulder sat a respectable distance away from her on the couch, draping his arm across the back of it, an invitation if she wanted to take it that way. She immediately crawled over and huddled against his side.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He grazed his fingertips over her shoulder in response, before returning his arm to the back of the couch. She tilted her head to look up at him and, when he looked down at her, she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. 

Mulder smiled, furrowing his brow in surprise.

Scully reached up to cup his jaw, and Mulder stilled in surprise as she pulled him down to meet her, kissing him firmly on the lips. He didn’t quite acknowledge what was happening until she pulled away.

“Scully-” Mulder chuckled in disbelief. “Wha-”

He trailed off as she pushed the blanket aside, moved onto her knees and crawled onto his lap, straddling him. 

He was a weak man. He was beginning to grow hard underneath her, and he couldn’t bring himself to physically remove her, even though he knew this was a terrible idea.

“Scully, come on.”

“I want you.”

“You’re not thinking straight.”

Her face hardened, her fingertips digging almost painfully into his shoulders.

“Dammit, Mulder. Don’t tell me I’m not thinking straight.” She shifted on his lap and he suppressed a moan. “All I’m doing is thinking. I just want to not think. To feel something. I need to be comforted, Mulder.”

“Scully…” Mulder sighed as she began to kiss his neck and rock her hips. “It’s just such a bad idea.”

“I really don’t care.”

“You’ve had one hell of a day and-”

“Mulder!” Scully clapped her hands to either side of his face, holding him firmly. “Look, tell me to stop, and I will.”

Mulder closed his eyes. He can’t deny having an obvious attraction to her from the beginning, but he hadn’t dwelled on it, considering her out of bounds. But here she was, quite literally putting herself on a plate for him. He knew this behaviour was born out of the trauma she had been through, but if he could comfort her in some way, make her forget, then he was running out of reasons to say no.

She kissed him again and, when Mulder made no move to resist, she pushed her tongue insistently into his mouth. 

He found himself afraid to touch her, still working to get his head around the situation. It was Scully. Sent to spy on him, but potentially becoming a worthy partner for him on the X-Files. Despite her tendency to laugh at him, he never felt belittled or mocked by her, and she always listened to him. Nobody had ever really listened to him. And here they were, putting all of that in jeopardy, but he couldn’t bring himself to push her off, to deny her of something that might make her okay again. Despite the inevitable consequences, he definitely wanted this.

She was still kissing him, eager and feverish. One hand was still on the side of his face, gripping him firmly, and the other was roaming over his chest. Mulder tentatively brought his hands to her waist, and it seemed as though Scully saw this as permission, as confirmation that this was okay and it was going to happen; she immediately fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, flicking them open one by one. Once it was unbuttoned, she yanked his shirt open and ran her small hands over his chest.

Scully finally pulled her mouth away from his, and he watched, slack-jawed as she kissed down his neck, over his collarbone. Her fingers moved to his belt buckle, and Mulder closed his eyes as he heard the dull metallic sound of it being pulled open. She unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, the sensation on his erection making his hips buck slightly.

He suddenly realised, as Scully shuffled backwards on his lap, where this was going. He grabbed hold of her hips before she could slip off his lap. He felt as though her putting her mouth on him would be too much. He wouldn’t feel right about her performing an act for his own gratification. This was supposed to be about her. Her comfort, her feeling something.

Mulder wrapped an arm around her hips, pressing her close to him, and stood to his feet. Scully let out a little yelp, but clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he carried her through to the bedroom. She attached her mouth to his neck, indulgently sucking and licking and nibbling at his skin.

“Don’t mark me, Scully. That’ll be hard to explain away in the office tomorrow.”

He immediately cursed himself for mentioning work, as lighthearted as his comment was, but it didn’t seem to bother her, if she had even been listening. 

Mulder placed Scully down on the bed carefully before stepping away to shed his trousers and boxers. He watched, with increasing arousal, as Scully pulled off the sweatpants she was wearing, quickly followed by the oversized t-shirt. She laid there, in her underwear, looking at him with a strange sort of defiance.

He shrugged off the shirt from his shoulders as he stared at her. He felt a little self-conscious, standing over her completely naked, his dick hard and wanting. It felt so wrong, this situation, but so good. Her eyes roamed over his body quickly, fixing on his dick with wide-eyed desire. Shit.

“Scully,” he said, breath heavy with confused arousal. “Are you sure?”

“Dammit, Mulder,” she replied quietly, clenching her eyes shut. “Please fuck me.”

Mulder’s breath caught in his throat. He cursed himself for being so weak, so pathetic. This woman was becoming precious to him, if he was honest, and here he was, desiring cheap thrills from her body. 

The reasons why this was an awful idea were the same reasons he just couldn’t say no to her.

He laid down on the bed next to her and, hesitating for a second, he initiated a kiss. She was just as eager as before, growing more so, and he knew it was time to take the plunge. He placed a hand over her ribs, sliding downwards until his fingertips came into contact with the hem of her panties. She moaned against his mouth, and his dick twitched. 

He pulled his mouth away to speak, but she beat him to it.

“Mulder, if you ask me if I’m sure again-”

Mulder sighed, seeing determination, arousal, and the ghost of fear in her eyes. He dropped his forehead to hers and pushed his fingers down into her panties.

Scully let out a long, low groan, and he pushed a finger between her folds. 

“God,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her mouth. “You’re so wet.”

“You see how hot I am for you?” she said. “How much I need you?”

He shifted so his dick was pressed against her thigh, and he rutted slightly, just to get a bit of friction. Scully moaned appreciatively, quiet until he moved his finger to circle her clit.

“Ah, fuck,” she whined, placing her hand over her panties, over his hand. “Faster.”

Any hesitation he had began to melt away as he watched her face and body relax, the fear and tension dissipate and pleasure engulf her. He could see now that this is what she needed, and she trusted him to give it to her, which felt pretty good.

He alternated between rubbing her clit as fast as he could and slowing to languid strokes through her wetness, which she was very clearly enjoying. When he pushed a fingertip inside her, she squeezed his hand.

“Enough,” she said firmly. “Fuck me.”

“Shit,” he muttered, slowly pulling his hand from her panties and rolling over to rifle through his drawer. 

He was 99% sure he had condoms, and about 70% sure they hadn’t expired. He cried out triumphantly when he found one, peering at the date printed on the side. Success.

He dropped it to the bed next to Scully’s hip and tucked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and yanked them down, causing Scully to yelp. He met her eyes, and she smiled wildly.

“God,” he said with a slight chuckle, shaking his head. 

He tore the little packet open, quickly rolling the condom down his shaft. Scully dropped her legs wide open, and he couldn’t actually believe what he was seeing. It was a beautiful sight, and one he felt invasive for looking at.

When he pushed his tip inside her, she sighed in relief as if it was all she had been waiting for. He kept his eyes on her face, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable or regretful as he pushed further in, pulling out slightly before going deeper. 

“Come on, Mulder,” Scully urged him as he bottomed out. “Hard and fast.”

“Shit.” 

It would be fast, alright, if she kept talking like that. He began to move, quickly building up to a fast rhythm, slamming into her as hard as he dared. Her legs were snaked around his hips, her heels digging into his ass cheeks. The fact this was such an ill-advised thing to do was proving to be a turn on for Mulder, who could already feel the hot coil of orgasm approaching.

He shifted his weight to free up his right hand and pushed it down between their bodies, pressing his thumb firmly against her clit. She cried out, digging her heels into his ass harder as she lifted her hips to try and match his rhythm.

He clenched his eyes shut. Don’t come, don’t come, don’t come.

Mulder sped up to an unsustainable speed, trying to move his thumb in rhythm too, but his head was swimming and everything was beginning to feel jumbled. Scully began to move even faster, desperate even, he inwardly sighed in relief when he felt her walls begin to contract, clenching around him as she dug her fingernails deep into his shoulders, crying out so loudly Mulder felt self-conscious about his neighbours. 

“Fuck, Mulder,” she growled. 

Mulder dropped his head and thrust a few more times before his own release came, arousal giving way to satiety, which soon gave way to guilt.

Scully watched him, dazed, as he slowly pulled out, waddled out to the bathroom to tie and throw away the condom, and return back to the bedroom.

He didn’t really know what to do with himself. She was laying on her back, arms either side of her head. At a loss, he laid down next to her, trying not to make physical contact.

“That was exactly what I needed.” She sighed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied cautiously.

Maybe it was just him, but as they both came down and grew lucid, the atmosphere became awkward. Scully eventually got up to use the bathroom, and Mulder took that opportunity to grab a pillow and make his way to the couch to settle in for the evening. He returned for some sweatpants as she came back.

“Good night,” he said.

She watched him with interest, but said nothing.

The next morning, she was up early and, declining a shower and breakfast, she was out the door with a brisk, “see you at the office in a while.”

[loveless-arobee]

Writing Loveless Characters

(Pt: Writing loveless characters)

Because I want to see more of them but non-loveless people often don’t have any idea where to start, or how to write them respectfully.

Loveless / heartless people are welcome to add their opinions! This is by no means a complete post, I'm just trying to give a starting point.

I’ll also discuss the decentering of love in stories a bit, even if there’s no explicitly loveless characters present. So if you’re interested in that, read on!

Definition

(Pt: Definition)

Let’s start with the simplest bit. What does it mean to be loveless (or heartless)?

Being loveless means not experiencing anything that could be described as love, feeling a disconnection from the entire concept of love, and/or it refers to the rejection of the idea that people need to experience love.

A lot of people who use the loveless/heartless labels are also neurodivergent and may feel a connection to this label because of that, but not all.

Being loveless can mean multiple things for one person, too. If you want to read more about the meaning of being loveless from a loveless person (me) you can read this post (link), or scroll a bit through the loveless aro and heartless aro tags.

What is love?

(Pt: What is love?)

Because we can’t go on without clearing up what this word actually means.

Love is just a label for an emotion. Nothing more. Love is not an action, actions are actions. Love is not a choice to care for some one, that is simply the choice to care for someone. This choice can be made completely without love, for example out of compassion, or because of a feeling of responsibility.

So, in short, "love" is just a label that a lot of people have decided to use for a specific emotion, and that label might not fit everyone.

Building a character

(Pt: Building a character)

For this, I can’t give a 100% conclusive answer, obviously, because all loveless people are different. Here’s just some things to keep in mind:

To respectfully write a loveless character, you should just throw out the idea that feeling love is necessary to be a good human, to care for other people or animals, or that not feeling love makes one immediately an asshole who doesn’t care for other people’s feelings.

Being loveless, in and off itself, says nothing about how a person acts. It only means that they don’t experience love (or any other part of the definitions above).

Things to avoid:

I can only think of two things you should definitely avoid doing, and that is connection lovelessness to being evil in any way, shape, or form. Also, avoid making your loveless character non-human if the rest of you cast is human (if all your characters are fantasy-races, that’s fine, probably just have a character, even just a minor one, of that same race who isn’t loveless, just to show that this isn’t a trait of this species that differentiates them from others, or make that very clear in the narrative.)

Yes, your loveless character can be evil, or morally complex, but you shouldn’t explain their villainy with them being loveless.

Yes, your loveless character can be emotionally distant, cold, or un-empathetic. Those words mostly describe me in some way. But again, you should decouple all of those things from being evil. Empathy doesn’t make a good human, and not experiencing empathy doesn’t make a bad person. Same with having shallow emotions.

But with all of this, you should still think about why you want to write them in this way. For example, do you want to write a loveless character with low empathy because you want to represent people like me, who are neurodivergent and don’t experience much empathy, and are also loveless? Or do you want to write them because those are things that make them more unlikable, or show their villainy?

Do you want them to experience shallow emotions to represent people who feel that way, or to explain away their lovelessness with "no normal person would feel this way"?

Do you want to write a loveless villain because it makes them more complex, and allows you to explore their emotions to a deeper level, or because you equate not feeling love with being evil and being evil with not feeling love?

Because there’s a very big difference, and your intentions matter a lot here, because the way you think about your character influences the way you write them.

Things I’d like to see / ideas to include

Besides "really, any loveless person who isn’t demonised" ofc.

- characters being open about not experiencing love, and not being judged or "fixed" for it.

- The narrative not treating lovelessness as a bad thing, and other characters just simply respecting their boundaries.

- A character with boundaries around the word love in general, doesn’t have to be loveless, and them being respected. Some people just don’t like hearing "I love you"s all the time.

- Just generally decentering love from the narrative (see more below)

- ND loveless people who fit the "bad stereotypes", turning them on their head (like me, hi.)

- not repeating respectability politics ("I might not feel love but I still care for people, I’m just like you!") This is not to say that loveless people don’t care for other people, just that it shouldn’t be shoe-horned in as a way of "showing that they’re still a good human being, despite not feeling love". They can just care for other people normally, without making it seem like something special or strange because they don’t feel love.

Questions to ask

To get a better understanding of your character:

- Why does this character identify as loveless, or could be identified as loveless? What does it mean to them, personally?

- How does being loveless affect their relationships?

- How does being loveless affect their view of the world, and other people?

- How important is their lovelessness to them? Is it something they’re proud of and show openly, or just something that’s a part of them that comes up when it gets important, but is otherwise just "background noise" for them?

- How do they feel about being the "target" of different kinds of love? Does love in general make them uncomfortable, just specific kinds, or do they not mind other people’s feelings towards them?

- Adding to the point above: Do the other characters respect their boundaries? If not, why? Does it add something important to the story?

That’s the most important points I can think of rn.

Decentering love

(Pt: decentering love)

Even if you don’t have a specific loveless character, this can still be done and often times make for some more interesting stories and characters that mostly haven’t been told before.

What do I mean by that?

Well, first off all, almost everything in most modern books is about love, contains love, or centers love in some way. There’s barely any new books coming out that don’t put the main characters in romantic relationships, even if they’re not in the romance genre, and if they don’t, these books are usually about the importance of platonic (or familial) love instead.

Im not saying these books shouldn’t exist. What I mean is that not everything has to center around love when there’s so many more emotions and experiences that could be written about, but instead we have millions of books that basically have the moral "You’re only worthy of humanity in the context of you relationships to other people, your only importance comes from finding people who love you / who you love, or character finds happiness through love (either their ~one true romantic love~ or platonic love)", because they obviously couldn’t learn to be happy with themselves, or that they didn’t need to center other people in their life constantly, or that they can be a complete and happy human on their own, too.

People can exist without basing their whole self worth on other people’s emotions towards them, and their emotions to other people.

To decenter love, you need to take the concepts, and ask "Why?" Why does this character need to be taught to accept themselves by falling in love? Why does this character need love to be happy, why can’t they just be happy as they are? Why should not loving make their life miserable, and why is the only way to fix it to find love, possibly even change themselves to finally be accepted by other people, instead of accepting themselves as they are, and finding community, if that’s important to them, as that?

You can even write about human connection without centering love, or about love without centering it, and portraying love as this universal, perfect good thing that makes us human and that everyone experiences. That is completely possible!

It can be just simply making sure that the narrative makes clear that this is these characters experience, and not a universal one. That there’s people who don’t feel this way. People who don’t love, don’t need love, and feel happy as they are, without relying on other people to make them happy.

Decentering love can also be about finding other ways to explore human connection. Relationship that are deep and emotional, but the characters don’t use the word love do define it; characters who are looking for community, for support, and giving community and support to others even if they don’t love them, maybe just because it’s the right thing to do, or because it’s the way they’d want to be treated, or because they have a deep seated care for humanity as a whole that they don’t describe as love.

There’s so many more emotions, so many more types of relationships, that deserve to be explored. Don’t limit yourself to just love and romance, or just (queer)platonic relationships as an aspec writer. You can write about sexual relationships, or about completely non-typical relationships that don’t really have a good term to describe them.

Write about relationships based on compassion, on sexual attraction, on mutual interest in the same topic, on what ever other emotion you can think off. I’ve once read a fantasy book where two off the main characters were different species, and mostly interested in each other to find out more about these species, and that was interesting; wonderfully written and it’d be awesome to have something that focussed on such an absolutely non-normative bond.

Don’t limit yourself to just "love", to just what society has put on a pedestal as the best and solely most important thing that connects everything and everyone. Think of all the other things that exist. Be creative.

Have fun creating!

(pt: Have fun creating!)

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me.

Thank you for reading this. Have a good day, and happy writing!

[olivieblake]

I, my dagger, and my bouquet of rants return to chat in reply to asks/reviews/comments in a series of boldly shameless rambles wherein I, Olivie Blake, am not writing. Today's topics include what I spent the summer writing (0:27), a little bit about forthcoming releases JANUARIES (3:19) and GIFTED AND TALENTED (4:50), advice for getting along with your mother (8:39), on being adult enough to write for adults (16:51), how to find your writing style (20:54), a brief and accidentally inaccurate bit about time loops and multiverses (it's just a time loop not a closed time loop, that's on me for not adequately preparing my thoughts, 25:23), and managing your rage with the state of the world by imagining a different future (26:09).

[the-ghost-king]

writing is like: hold on i must speak with my trusted council, energy drink, soda pop, and water before I can continue

[sir-illmatic]

Reminder:

You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be misquoted. Then used against you by the people who have the wrong perspective of you.

You can't control what people say, but they can't control what you choose NOT to say!

[ronsenburg]

you guys want to see something so silly?

[mecharose]

i feel like this is probably the opposite of usual but tell me if this is a common experience. why is it 10000x harder to write fanfic than it is my original books

[deathofacupid]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 .ᐟ ────────

⭑ 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 ⭑

⭑ 𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 ⭑

⭑ 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧 ⭑

⭑ 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐚 ⭑

⭑ 𝐣𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 ⭑