#*nuance here. probably. you get what I mean

[runecatwrites]

Hello! Your LU analyses are delightful to read, thanks for sharing them! I had a fun question for consideration, if that's okay! Previously, we've examined and gushed over the Links' bonds with each other and who gets along best with who. We know that each of them are brothers and would die for each other. But I was curious: What's your take on which Links get along the *least*? E.g. If you were to list out each of the nine, which Links don't tend to click as well with each, and why? (At least at this point we're at in the comics.) Love to hear your insights about that if you're up for it! :D

Oooooh! Thank you for the ask, this is a really fun thing to think about! Here are my takes…

Sky: Time

Four: Wild

Time: Legend

Legend: Sky

Hyrule: Wild

Wind: Wild

Twilight: Warriors

Warriors: Wild

Wild: Warriors

Explanations under the cut!

Disclaimer: I do not hate Wild! In fact, he’s probably my favorite Link. Wild is a compelling character and I love him very much. Read the whole post for elaboration on him.

Second disclaimer: I truly don’t think that any of the members of the chain strongly dislike any other members (even though they may have spats from time to time). Just because one person might not get along with another as well as they do with everyone else, that doesn’t mean they hate that person.

And now for the explanations!

Sky: this guy is so sweet that it’s hard to see him not getting along with someone. The obvious answer here would be Legend, but as we’ve seen, Sky doesn’t seem to mind Lege’s “bullying” at all and actually seems to think it’s kind of endearing. I bet he’s used to that kind of behavior from Groose and therefore easily looks past it. No, as weird as it may sound on the surface, I think the person Sky would have the most trouble getting along with would actually be Time. I don’t think he’d have a hard time getting along with him in a professional sense (they work and fight well together) but rather in a personal sense. Sky and Time have very different histories with the Master Sword and with the whole “call of the hero” experience. Whereas Sky has a very close and positive relationship with Fi and willingly went on his adventure to save his beloved, Time got thrown into his first adventure, yanked around, and aged up pretty much without his consent. Lacking the perspective to understand this, I think Sky might be offended by Time’s complicated feelings towards Fi.

Four: this guy holds practically everyone in the group at arm’s length, so this one’s difficult too. But based on what we’ve seen in LU, I’m going with Wild. These two have clashed several times, most notably over Wild’s supposed impulsiveness. I think the underlying cause is that their brains work so differently at a fundamental level. Wild is a black-and-white thinker, while Four has a much more colorful (heh) mindscape. He views the world around him as a complex one that should be met with open-mindedness, and strives to understand it using his critical thinking skills. Even while merged, his colors probably play into this way of thinking. Wild, on the other hand, has a very narrow worldview and becomes distressed - sometimes even angry - when something doesn’t fit into it. Four sometimes seems to get frustrated by that rigid thinking of Wild’s.

Time: now this is an interesting one. Time is the oldest of the group and regarded as one of the most if not the most mature. Legend on the other hand, while not the youngest, is still an immature kid. Now there’s some nuance there and there are a lot of factors that feed into that immaturity (like the fact that he’s dealt with a lot of trauma and hasn’t had a parental figure since he was like 10) but the point still stands. In recent updates especially, we see that Time appears to have a short temper when it comes to Legend’s behavior. Why? Well if you look past the obvious reasoning of the group being in a dangerous situation and Legend’s antics being ill-suited for that, personally I think that Legend is a lot like Time was in his younger days. You know how sometimes parents say “my kid got their attitude from me and now I’ve gotta argue with a younger version of myself every day!” That’s exactly what’s going on here. Time was an absolute menace as a kid and teenager, and now he’s being faced with the exact same energy and has a hard time dealing with it.

Legend: as explained above, Legend has a bit of a reputation for immaturity and an attitude to go with it. Sky, on the other hand, is the one of the most easygoing, self-assured, approachable people you’ll ever meet. Legend is used to eliciting strong and/or definitive reactions by his behavior. People get angry with him (Time), match his energy (Warriors), or redirect him/calm him down (Hyrule). But Sky? Sky just… doesn’t seem to have much of a reaction at all. He might respond with some light teasing or a halfhearted protest, but nothing beyond that. That confuses Legend, and that confusion leads to anger. No matter what he does, he can’t get a good read on Sky, and that’s very frustrating for Legend.

Hyrule: I think this is going to surprise a lot of people, because Hyrule and Wild are often depicted as twin chaos gremlins by the fandom. But if you actually go through the LU canon (both main story and bonus material), you’ll see that these two actually rarely interact with each other, and on one of those rare occasions, they argue to the point of blows and have to be broken up. Much later, Wild describes Hyrule as “stubborn”, albeit in a positive way. Now, this is where I think the fandom seeing these two as twin chaos gremlins does bear some merit: the two are so alike in many aspects of their personality, notably their stubbornness, that they struggle to get along. A similar situation as with Time and Legend, but in this situation, they’re about the same age and with the same level of maturity. Hyrule and Wild even think the same way, too. During the battle with the Iron Knuckle, Hyrule wanted to rush right in and attack the big guy head on too, but was held back by Legend. Among his companions, though, Hyrule is reputably non-confrontational, which makes the fact that he got in a fight with Wild surprising. Wild is more used to getting into disagreements, so I think that fight would have affected Hyrule emotionally a lot more than Wild.

Wind: I had the hardest time with this little guy. Despite being the youngest, he’s surprisingly emotionally stable and mature, and he gets along with everyone! Literally the only reason I chose Wild is because Wind has snapped at him a few times, examples being for treating him like a kid and for not following his advice for how to take on the Iron Knuckle. That’s literally it. Wind is a perfect ray of sunshine.

Twilight: our rancher is gregarious and gets along with everyone pretty well, but he’s not shy about calling out things that tick him off about others. He rebukes Legend for his immaturity, challenges Time on his overbearing nature, and tries his darnedest to instill some self-restraint in Wild. He’s also very protective, though, especially of Wild. He’s well aware that Wild often has difficulties getting along with others (more on that later), but since he knows Wild better than all the others, he understands why Wild has those difficulties. And right now especially, he very obviously thinks that Warriors is being way too hard on Wild. This is a tricky situation. These Links are all notoriously bad at communication, and with extremely different backgrounds, Twilight and Warriors have even more of a disadvantage. Twilight doesn’t understand Wars’ motives in this situation and thinks he’s being unfair, when in reality Wars is just trying really hard to understand Wild better (explained in my analyses). Despite that, Twi and Wars are still good friends; they were just rubbing shoulders and bantering at each other a few parts ago after all. Twilight just isn’t afraid to openly disagree with one of his friends.

Warriors: yeah, if you’re familiar with my analyses (here and here) you know it’s Wild! I won’t rehash it in this post since I’ve pretty much said everything I can think of on Wars’ point of view in the situation lol

Wild: and conversely, Wild is having a really hard time with Wars specifically right now. That situation is outlined in my previous analyses too. But for this post, I wanted to elaborate more on Wild. Although all of his fellow Links obviously love and accept him, the poor guy has drawn the ire of practically every member of the chain at some point in time. In fact, personally I think that if not for his close bond with Twilight, Wild would have an extremely hard time getting along with the group as a whole. That doesn’t mean he’s a bad person. No, he’s a character with a very unique and compelling past, and that past makes it very difficult for him to successfully engage in teamwork. He’s also dealing with amnesia, imposter syndrome, and an inferiority complex, all of which take a huge toll on his mental health. When your mental health isn’t so great, you often have a short fuse and it can also be hard to maintain healthy relationships. Trust me, I know - I’ve been on medication for depression for 15 years. It’s a real struggle. In spite of this, we have seen significant character growth from Wild recently. He’s begun acknowledging his difficulties and owning up to his transgressions, which shows that he really does want to make things work with everyone. He feels bad for clashing with people and wants to do better, but unfortunately he appears to have very low confidence in himself. His current mindset seems to be “I’m trying really hard not to mess things up, but I’m probably just going to mess it all up anyway.” The thing that matters, though, is that he is trying. Ah, I love Wild so much. My precious blorbo. If he can rid himself of that crippling self-doubt, he can make even bigger strides in improving his relationship with everyone!

[bobthetacocat]

There's a note on the ground...

This is something I wrote for google-drive-submit, the final capstone in the Susie ARG project, posted on my Tumblr by request. It's a collection of a few thoughts that had crossed my mind since the project ended that I wanted to share. This is something I could talk about for a lot longer, so I promise to not take up much of your time.

I think this is obvious, but the vast majority of things discussed in the Susie ARG do not relate to CCC 12 at all. Susie says as much herself.

This naturally brings up the follow-up question: why do this at all? If none of this matters to the canon, why put so much time and effort into it? And I guess that's a question you can realistically ask of all of SiIvaGunner. Rips take time to become as high quality as they are, right? Why do it at all?

The artistic process is kinda mean like that. It's a lot of hard work for something that feels so… ephemeral. Dust that falls through your hands when moved wrong.

Susie had a few things to say about the channel, the overarching canon, and its people. She said almost everything she desired to say… except she left one straggler she didn't wrap up in time. Kind of a shame really, I think it's one of the more important ones. It's hard to say what that piece would've looked like if it was finished, but after consulting with Susie, I'm sure it would've looked something like this:

"My father said to me that that things tend to repeat themselves, given enough time. Sentience creates understanding, and understanding creates symbols, repetition, abstraction into things we can understand. How fitting, I suppose, that there are plenty of quotes like this…

Have you ever thought about where that lighthouse shows up? It's different every time. To SiIvaGunner it's a landmark of his home, to the AI universe it's a connection to the AI mainframe, to all those other little universes it's one thing or another; and of course, to you it's iconography, a picture to be adapted. Endlessly exploitable, as the deftest symbols tend to be.

I can't help but notice these types of things everywhere… somebody says a random phrase here - "intriguing", "nice", "reverb", there's a million examples - and it manages to travel across the universe and back again. A character talks over here, and their idea shows up somewhere else. Mr. Rental exists in one world, and a place is named after him a universe and half a planet away. Ideas conglomerate, and reform, and repeat; and one domino can add onto what anything means if it's the right time. This isn't a unintended side effect of the system, that's just how these things are here, a world of repeating and combining ideas together.

Then again, in the real world - your world - SiIvaGunner himself is a repetition of symbol, no? His better half. And he, in turn, is a repetition of someone else, who probably was inspired by someone else… so I suppose this was inevitable, in a way."

Out of a morbid curiosity, I decided to go back and look at my first reaction to the release of Prologue and Episode 1 of the CCC in 2016, since I'm lucky enough to still be in that Discord server. It was the kind of reaction you would expect from a 13 year old: making jokes, making unrelated jokes, bad jokes, jokes, so on. But don't misunderstand me - I was excited, and I was glued to the screen.

Fast forward, now - it's 2024. I just turned 21. Episode 11 has finally released, and it's a stellar job, genuinely. I'm in the middle of conceptualizing the Susie ARG, a project dedicated to the nuances of this thing that's been a part of my life for so long... and here I am, making the worst joke ever about how Haltmann couldn't just get Susie with a piano from Super Star Symphony. And putting it onto my pitch document! What am I doing?! Am I stutipd??? I feel like the "what would you tell your past self" thought is pretty cliche, but I'm not sure how I would tell my past self that I'm just doing a higher caliber of the same stupid shitposting he was. I think he'd find it funny, though.

SiIvaGunner's lore has never been the most popular thing on the channel. It feels almost condescending to explain the main reason why in detail - SiIvaGunner's main export is high quality rips. People aren't really coming for the story. But I think there is a second reason worth addressing: SiIvaGunner lore is hard to follow. This is also obvious, but I think the reason it started getting hard to follow is more nebulous and interesting. My current reasoning is that the characters stopped having predetermined story arcs and started living lives, if that makes sense.

Wood Man is patient zero of this. His defection from his predetermined box was relatively simple - an offscreen penchant for movie making. This turned Wood Man, an otherwise dumb side character completely fabricated for the sake of his master's bidding, into, like, a guy. Wood Man & Robbie Rotten turned him into a more complex person, with something from him that we hadn't seen before and he hadn't told anybody. He discussed the time dilation, and everything that implies, and how the world's time moves along. Then he got teleported to The Lost Rip, and the whole predetermined box fell apart completely. He escaped being a dumb side character, and got to do his own thing. He started knowing people offscreen, he started filming more movies, having the chance to hang out and be somebody and mature. He started living. Until… well, you know.

Wood Man's whole deal is emblematic of the tricky thing with the wielding of the passage of time in correlation to real life - the longer time has gone on, the more opportunity our side characters in the SiIvaGunner world have had to live their lives outside of the script and break their boxes. Dr. Andonuts spent so much of his time working, being a character behind the scenes, until he was compelled to come into the light. Joke-Explainer probably spent years wandering Grandiose, doing her own thing, living her life, interacting with people; checking in once a couple of years until we caught up with her for channel host. Haltmann had way more time than he would've to become committed to finding his daughter, and Susie had pretty much her entire existence as a Figment to watch from behind the scenes, until… well, you know.

And it's like, how do you condense that? If your 6 year old nephew turned 15 when you weren't looking, how do you compartmentalize the hundreds of off-screen stories in your brain? You don't, right? These type of things reward being around from the beginning, in a story that has broken its predefined end, and with characters that have had the chance to live autonomously. And that's probably bad for some of the newer viewers, but maybe that's better for some of the characters.

By the tail end of the project, I realized I was a lot like Susie. Not in the literal sense, duh, but in the metaphorical, as a watcher of the story with a lot of opinions, who suddenly got to have those opinions known on the grand stage.

Susie started to sound more and more like me as time went on - or maybe I started to sound more and more like Susie? I'm not sure - as the character got situated in her place. I hope that hasn't been too obvious as you've been reading this document, but it probably has.

Susie and I don't agree on everything. We probably disagree on most things, realistically. But here we had one shared goal - to walk forward with this thing we've been watching for so many years.

All we had to do was try and find the right words.

[verecunda]

Well, yeah, it was a bit galling to go from what seemed to be a good-natured exchange to suddenly seeing that in the tags, especially since it seemed to suggest I was saying things that I really wasn't.

And like, I get it. We're all guilty of being a bit intense about all this fictional stuff on Tumblr dot com. And I'm not blameless: I think my response to your initial reblog came off rather snippy, so I can understand if that put you on the defensive. That wasn't my intention, so I'm sorry for that. I was genuinely curious - baffled, but curious. (Also sarcasm is kind of my default setting, and that can be hard to modulate online sometimes. :\) Maybe I should have left well enough alone, but it just happened that I'd been thinking/posting about Eönwë and Sauron, then I saw your post, and it made me go "???".

I think there's a disconnect here between how different people enjoy Sauron as a character. You're fascinated by the sympathetic traits he exhibits, whereas others - myself included - enjoy him precisely because he's a bastard. (I was posting about this the other day, actually - literally reading about one of his worst acts made him my favourite character!) And it can be frustrating to see people trying to gloss over these aspects of him, because it's removing what, to me, is one of the most fundamentally appealing things about the character.

But that doesn't mean that we don't see or acknowledge his good qualities, it's just that - speaking personally, anyway - they're vastly outweighed by the bad things he does. And to me, that gives him a fairly tragic dimension, the fact that he has all these admirable qualities and this capacity to do so much good, yet he ends up squandering it all in doing evil. And that juxtaposition between his good qualites and his evil deeds makes him even more compelling.

And from just a general show-watching standpoint, it can be quite frustrating to see these takes about how ROP should give him a redemption arc or whatever. Because that's not what the show is about. It's a prequel to an existing story: we already know the end, we know that Sauron is going to end up getting worse and become the Dark Lord in Barad-dûr, we're just following his journey to becoming that. If people are resistant to the idea of Sauron being redeemed, it's probably not because they believe that he's 100% no-nuance evil, but more because they know that that's simply not the story the writers have set out to tell. And yeah, it can get annoying to see people demanding that the showrunners throw out the actual LOTR story (which is what we're here for in the first place) just to cater to a small minority of fans.

But that doesn't mean you can't have fun in fandom playing with the idea. That's why we have AUs! Fandom is the space for going, "Okay, but what if he was redeemed?" I have ideas for stories about un-evil Mairon and Melkor in Almaren, or Mairon recovering in Valinor after accepting Eönwë's offer. It's a fun idea, and good to explore, but that's for fandom. It's emphatically not what the show itself is setting out to do, and getting the two mixed up is a recipe for disappointment.

So... yeah, that's my position. I hope it makes sense.

Also, Angbang is a wonderful ship, and I totally get the urge to yell about it at length. :) And I don't think you need to have a single unified view of it - again, that's the great thing about fandom, you can explore different options! I know, in general, I tend to write them having a more or less positive relationship - even monsters can love! - but Sauron's unhinged monologue in the show about their "contest of wills" had me giggling and kicking my feet. Both are good.

(PS. my name's not actually Vere, but it serves for online nonsense. :P)

I don't like that weird perspective some of the fans...The POV where literally EVERYBODY in Tolkien's Legendarium, including orcs and even Morgoth, are"so poor, miserable, tormented and good&sweet inside...EXCEPT SAURON!!!! HE IS THE ONLY EVIL IN THIS WORLD. HE HAS NO HEART, NO LOVE INSIDE, NO SOUL, NO EMOTIONS [EXCEPT HATE]."

Like everyone else is worthy of love and life, and redemption...But NOT HIM. NOT FUCKING SAURON!!! JUST DIEEE YOU FUCKING IREEDEEMABLE MONSTER!!!".😶‍🌫️

I don't like that point of view. At all.😒😒 😬😬😬 IT'S REALLY AWFUL! Take all the sins/evil of the whole world to the account of one person...Especially when I personally see MANY acts of goodness from ROP!Sauron...🙄

[bisexualfagdyke]

Maybe I need to move past my sensitivity around people using "men" when they mean Cis Men, but it's just so frustrating. The vast majority of ppl will never consider trans men in their conversations about oppression, patriarchy, etc. so I genuinely feel like I need to just find a way to give up on feeling upset & bothered about it.

Being a trans man means you are still oppressed in pretty much all the ways cis women are*, with the oppression of transphobia on top of that, but never considered at ALL because people use & view the word "man" as an inherently cisgender thing and none of the issues, oppression, & prejudice you face is considered cuz ur just inherently grouped in with men as a privileged class 😭😭 like when people talk about oppression & patriarchy, ur just in the "man" category inherently (oppressor causing all this harm), bcuz ur a man, when none of the oppression and experiences you have actually reflect that

It is very annoying being a trans man with a very vast & nuanced understanding of gender, patriarchy, and manhood due to ur lived identity as a trans man, in a cis focused society where nobody else thinks that way

[basilibino]

Season 8 was like 6 years ago(I feel old) and I know ppl have differing opinions on the Mr Echo thing (but it was intended, made it to storyboard and blocked animation and then dropped, soooo) but. I can see his recruitment p easily tbh. Bc the whole reason Dr J was in that lighthouse was because he was resurrected, forced there, and ordered to build Skulkin vehicles by Samukai. But Samukai in the flashback we see has already been deposed as leader of the Skulkin/Underworld. Which means the orders to do so most likely came from Garmadon.

And since Mr. E is one of the head honchos, he's likely an early arrival to the team, so I don't think Harumi has a whole lot figured out at this point, she's just got her Trauma and some Bad Influence Friends and an obsession with Lord Garmadon. So. Like. Plausible deniability road trip that she's just visiting important markers of Ninjago's recent past, all of which involve Lord Garmadon in some meaningful way; its sightseeing, its cathartic, and it gives her time to develop her dream Motorcycle Gang/Resurrection Cult. She's not looking for anyone at the Lighthouse, but she is looking for vehicle blueprints so she can be the Koolest leader on the block. But oops she looks in the basement and there's an Echo.

And she's flipping out bc??? A Ninja???? In the Lighthouse basement??? I mean it makes sense that it would be this one but???

Except this rusty old robot has no idea what she's talking about with this Ninja stuff, he's just waiting for his dad to come back.

And Harumi pauses.

Because how long has he been waiting? He's not sure, he had no proper way to measure time in the basement, and he doesn't have the best view of his clockwork heartpiece. But it was after his father saw a strange ship docking; Echo was worried it was the People who had locked up his father in the first place, but instead his dad sounded happy when he saw whoever was out there. It could have been a front, though, as clearly it was never safe to let Echo back out. Then Dr J popped down briefly, while everyone above was resting, to tell Echo he was desperately needed elsewhere, that it wasn't safe to bring Echo, but that he'd be back in no time.

And the pieces are fitting together for Harumi. And she's like. Your dad's dead, bro.

And he's like. What? Did he die doing what was needed of him?

And she's like. Oh, no. He died a few years later.

And he's like. Why didn't he come back for me????

And she's like. Probably because they kept him away.

And he's like. Who's they?

And she's like. The Ninja I was talking about earlier.

And it surely can't be hard in universe to find pictures of Zane and Dr J post s2-pre s3, so she pulls one up and shows Echo who is freaking out bc why is that one kind of like him and Harumi explains that that was the droid his father created first, that he became a Ninja, and that hes probably the one who took their father away and kept echo waiting for years.

But Echo has doubts, shocked as he is abt a new older brother, he wants to believe the good in the situation so he's unsure. But Harumi mentions that the Ninja's failures to uphold more than their self preservation/interests has led to uncountable losses and devastation in Ninjago time and time again, before delving into her own story. And she seems so kind, and so hurt, and I do think there's a genuine connection btwn these two that forms from this shared emotional torment that they decide came from the Ninja, and now Echo is more receptive.

And then Harumi gets to start her Garmadon pitch because wait! If Echo was made here, then that could only have happened because of Lord Garmadon. And she reiterates that he's the reason she and her city could have even survived The Great Devourer. And maybe Echo's family-by-creation left, maybe they were untrustworthy and lacking, but that's OK bc if you look at it all a certain way, Garmadon is more of a father to Echo than Dr J was. And Echo is a vulnerable, overwhelmed mess who just found out his dad fucked off for years without him and also died, and also he has a brother??? Who their dad clearly seems to have favored??? Did they even know about Echo??? Did they delight in their life free of him???

Basically. Kinda Spinel-core but getting abandoned and left completely alone does that to you. Especially when the first person to find you after being abandoned is a deeply hurt and misguided teen who is probably kinda desperate for someone, anyone else to see the Ninja the way she sees them.

[soldierandawar]

Really, the issue is that people cannot hold two conflicting thoughts in their heads at the same time. That's why arguments online are so frustrating. Most of the time, it's like, "Yes! Both of these things are true!" But no one wants to hear that. Everyone has to be right. We have to prove ourselves as better than others, so we start using identifiers, "Oh, so you're a <insert term here>." to separate ourselves, and it's exhausting.

If you lack conflict management skills and refuse to look inward, how can you create community?

[musical-chick-13]

"This show is SO good, you should watch it!!"

I gotta be honest. If I look at a character list on Wikipedia and get five characters down without seeing a single woman, it's probably not for me.

[leaf-in-a-flower-garden]

Sick of people pretending that just because if (and that's a big if) Alef/Resh had a bad childhood that it's an excuse for them literally destroying an entire kingdom, with whatever family you wanna HC them w/, like.. bsfr where is the logic.

[stephobrien]

Is your pro-Palestine activism hurting innocent people? Here's how to avoid that.

Note: If you prefer plain text, you can read the plain text version here.

Over the last few days, I’ve had conversations with several Jewish people who told me how hurt and scared they are right now.

To my great regret, some of that pain came from a poorly-thought-out post of mine, which – while not ill-intentioned – WAS hurtful.

And a lot of it came from cruelty they’d experienced at the hands of people who claim to be advocating for Palestine, but are using the very real plight of innocent Palestinians to harm equally innocent Jewish people.

Y’all, we need to do better. (Yes, “we” definitely includes me; this is in no small part a “learn from my fail” post, and also a “making amends” post. Some of these are mistakes I’ve made in the past.)

So if you’re an advocate for Palestine who wants to make sure that your defense of one group of vulnerable people doesn’t harm another, here are some important things to do or keep in mind:

Ask yourself if you’re applying a standard to one group that you aren’t applying to another.

Would you want all white Americans or Canadians to be expelled from America or Canada?

Do you want all Jewish people to be expelled from Israel, as opposed to finding a way to live alongside Palestinian Arabs in peace?

If the answer to those two questions is different, ask yourself WHY.

Do you want to be held responsible for the actions of your nation’s army or government? No? Then don’t hold innocent Jewish people, or Israelis in general (whether Jewish or otherwise), responsible for the actions of the Israeli army and government.

On that subject, be wary of condemning all Israeli people for the actions of the IDF. Large-scale tactical decisions are made by the top brass. Service is compulsory, and very few can reasonably get out of service.

Blaming all Israelis for the military’s actions is like blaming all Vietnam vets for the horrors in Vietnam. They’re not calling the shots. They aren’t Nazis running concentration camps. They are carrying out military operations that SHOULD be criticized.

And do not compare them or ANY JEWISH PERSON to Nazis in general. It is Jewish cultural trauma and not outsiders’ to use against them.

Don’t infuse legitimate criticism with antisemitism.

By all means, spread the word about the crimes committed by the Israeli army and government, and the complicity of their allies. Criticize the people responsible for committing and enabling atrocities.

But if you imply that they’re committing those crimes because they’re Jewish, or because Jewish people have special privileges, then you’re straying into antisemitic territory.

Criticize the crime, not the group. If you believe that collective punishment is wrong, don’t do it yourself.

And do your best to use words that apply directly to the situation, rather than the historical terms for situations with similar features. For example, use “segregation,” “oppression,” or “subjugation,” not “Holocaust” or “Jim Crow.” These other historical events are not the cultural property of Jews OR Palestinians, but also have their own nuances and struggles and historical contexts.

Also, blaming other world events on Jewish people or making Jewish people associated with them (for instance, some people falsely blame Jewish people for the African slave trade) is a key feature of how antisemitism functions.

Please, by all means, be specific and detailed in your critiques. But keep them focused on the current political actors – not other peoples’ or nations’ political or cultural histories and traumas.

Be prepared to accept criticism.

You probably already know that society is infused with a wide array of bigotries, and that people growing up in that environment tend to absorb those beliefs without even realizing it. Antisemitism is no exception.

What that means is, there’s a very real chance that you will screw up, and get called out on it, as I so recently did.

If that happens, please be willing to learn and adapt. If you can educate yourself about the suffering and needs of Palestinians, you can do the same for Jewish people.

Understand that the people you hurt aren’t obligated to baby you. Give them room to be angry.

After I made a post that inadvertently hurt people, some were nice about it, and others weren’t. Some outright insulted my morals and intelligence.

And I had to accept that I’d earned that from them.

I’d hurt them, and they weren’t obligated to be more careful with my feelings than I had been with theirs.

They weren’t obligated to forgive me, trust me, or stop being mad at me right away.

I’ll admit, there were moments when I got defensive. I shouldn’t have. And I encourage you to try not to, if you screw up and hurt people.

I know that’s hard, but it’s important. Getting defensive only tells people you care more about doubling down on your mistake than you do about healing the hurt it caused.

Instead, acknowledge that they have a right to be angry, apologize for the way you hurt them, and try to make amends, while understanding that they don’t owe you trust or forgiveness.

Be aware that some antisemites are using legitimate complaints to “Trojan horse” antisemitism into leftist spaces.

This is a really easy stumbling block to trip over, because most people probably don’t look at every post a creator makes before sharing the one they’re looking at right now.

I recently shared a video that called out some of the Likud and IDF’s atrocities and hypocrisy, and that also noted that many Jewish people are wonderful members of their communities.

I was later informed that, while that video in particular seemed reasonable, the creator behind it is frequently antisemitic.

I deleted the post, and blocked the creator. I encourage you to do the same if it’s brought to your attention that you’ve been ‘Trojan horse’d.

EDIT: Important note about antisemitism in leftist spaces:

While it's true that some blatant antisemites are using seemingly reasonable posts to get their foot in the door of leftist spaces, it's also true that a lot of antisemitism already exists inside those spaces.

This antisemitism is often dressed up in progressive-sounding language, but nonetheless singles Jewish people and places out in ways that aren't applied equally to other groups, or that label Jewish people in ways that portray them as acceptable targets.

If you want to see some specific examples, so you can have a better idea of what to keep an eye out for, I suggest reading this excellent reblog of this post.

Fact-check your doubts about antisemitism.

Depending on which parts of the internet you look at, you’ve probably seen people accused of antisemitism because they complained about the Likud and/or IDF’s actions. So you might be primed to be wary, or feel unsure of how to tell what counts as real antisemitism.

But that doesn’t mean antisemitism isn’t a very real, widespread, and harmful problem. And it doesn’t mean many or even most Jewish people are lying to you or being overly sensitive.

So if someone says something is antisemitic, and you aren’t sure, I encourage you to:

A. Look up the action or thing in question, including its history. Is there an antisemitic history or connotation you aren’t aware of? For best results, include “antisemitic” in your search query, in quotes.

B. Understand that some things, while not inherently antisemitic, have been used by antisemites often enough that Jewish people are understandably wary of them. Schrodinger’s antisemitism, if you will.

C. Ask Jewish people WHO HAVE OFFERED TO HELP EDUCATE YOU. Emphasis on WHO HAVE OFFERED. Random Jewish people aren’t obligated to give you their time and emotional energy, or to educate you – especially on subjects that are scary or painful for them.

@edenfenixblogs has kindly offered her inbox to those who are genuinely trying to learn and do better, and I’ve found her to be very kind, patient, reasonable, and fair-minded.

Understand that this is URGENTLY NEEDED.

In one of my conversations with a Jewish person who’d called me out, they said this was the most productive conversation they’d had with a person with a Palestinian flag in their profile.

THIS IS NOT OKAY.

I didn’t do anything special. All I did was listen, apologize for my mistakes, and learn.

Yes, it feels good to be acknowledged. But I feel like I’ve been praised for peeing IN the toilet, instead of beside it.

Apologizing, learning, and making amends after you hurt people shouldn’t be “the most reasonable thing I’ve heard from a person with a Palestinian flag pfp.”

It should be BASIC DECENCY.

And the fact that it’s apparently so uncommon should tell you how much unnecessary stress and fear Jewish people have been living with because of people who consider themselves defenders of human rights.

By all means, be angry at the Likud, the IDF, and the politicians, reporters, and specific media outlets who choose to enable and cover up for them.

But direct that anger toward the people who deserve it and are in a position to do something about it, not random people who simply happen to be Jewish, or who don’t want millions of people to be turned into refugees when less violent methods of achieving freedom and rights for Palestinians are available.

Stop peeing beside the toilet, people.

[cazshmere]

Asteroid Kleopatra (216) in the houses: and where you can easily claim your power and use your charm to get things working out your way ;)

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!!

KLEOPATRA IN THE 1ST HOUSE ✨

⚜️ With asteroid Kleopatra in your 1st house, your charisma is immediately apparent to others. This placement embodies the ultimate girlboss energy! You possess a magnetic presence that draws people to you effortlessly. You have the ability to be strategic, especially when it comes to achieving your personal goals. Your beauty and allure are prominent, making you stand out in any crowd. This placement suggests a strong desire to assert your identity and personal power, often using your charm to influence others and get what you want. Y’all have such powerful and enigmatic personalities too!

KLEOPATRA IN THE 2ND HOUSE ✨

⚜️ I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT Y’ALL ARE SO STUNNING!! With Kleopatra in the 2nd house, this asteroid enhances your ability to attract wealth and material possessions through your charm and strategic mind. You can be particularly persuasive when it comes to financial matters, using your allure to secure resources and support. Your beauty and charisma can play a significant role in your earning potential. This placement suggests a desire to achieve power and security through financial means; in other words, y’all could likely be a sugar baby, hehe.

KLEOPATRA IN THE 3RD HOUSE ✨

⚜️ OKAY, THIS IS ONE OF THE BEST PLACEMENTS TO HAVE THIS ASTEROID IN, because these people are the definition of smooth talkers. With Kleopatra in the 3rd house, your wit and charm shine through your communication skills. Your persuasion skills are over the top. Your charisma makes you a captivating speaker, and you can easily influence those around you with your words. This placement also suggests a desire to achieve power through knowledge and intellectual pursuits—very, very smart people. Y’all can be good with coming up with witty comebacks and jokes <33

KLEOPATRA IN THE 4TH HOUSE ✨

⚜️ This placement SCREAMS "in my home, I rule" (in the best possible way, lmao), very regal energy here! You may use your charm to influence family members and create a harmonious domestic environment. Your beauty and allure can play a role in your family dynamics, making you a central figure in your household. Could probably be known as the “pretty cousin,” yk? This placement indicates a desire to achieve power within the family unit and to make significant changes at home.

KLEOPATRA IN THE 5TH HOUSE ✨

⚜️ ANOTHER GIRLBOSS PLACEMENT TO HAVE, y’all literally have the BEST PERSONALITY, and if someone disagrees, they can perish😘 (jk). THIS IS THE ACTUAL RIZZLER PLACEMENT 😭😭. Bro, y’all can pull anyone y’all want. SO NATURAL AT FLIRTING TOO, LMAO. Your charm makes you irresistible in social settings, and you can easily use your wits to entertain and captivate others. This placement suggests a desire to achieve power through creative expression and romantic conquests. Y’all, this placement honestly screams main character energy 💅🏼

KLEOPATRA IN THE 6TH HOUSE ✨

⚜️ That one person in the workplace who’s got literally everyone turning their heads to look at who you are IS LITERALLY THIS PLACEMENT. People can’t help but stare at y’all. Very persuasive, especially in the work environment. Can easily achieve a higher position by just using their words and strategic thinking. I BET MOST OF YOUR COLLEAGUES secretly or very openly have a crush on you or just flirt with you, lmao. Can easily get proposals accepted, or your idea is the one that could be utilized when it comes to your workplace

KLEOPATRA IN THE 7TH HOUSE ✨

⚜️ Y’all are like the people that have 4,626,263 people waiting in line just to take you out 😭😭, but y’all have HIGH STANDARDS (as you should 😘). So, with Kleopatra in the 7th house, your charisma shines in your one-on-one relationships. You possess an alluring presence that can attract significant partners, both romantic and business. You guys could be the more dominant one in the relationship, and y’all will have people on their knees for you 🛐🛐. Sometimes, y’all might just flirt your way to opportunities lmfao

KLEOPATRA IN THE 8TH HOUSE ✨

⚜️ SO SO SO POWERFUL, bowing down in front of you, queen🛐🛐. Your energy… oof... everyone CAN SENSE IT, and you best believe they’re confused if they should be intimidated or turned on 😭😭 (maybe both😌🫣). In the 8th house, Kleopatra enhances your ability to influence and transform through your charismatic and strategic nature. Your beauty and allure can attract powerful connections, and you may find yourself drawn to situations involving shared resources, such as investments or inheritances. Y’all could attract super-rich people, or you yourself could have a lot of MONEYYYY✨

KLEOPATRA IN THE 9TH HOUSE ✨

⚜️ Have y’all ever had an airport crush 😻?? That hot stranger you lock eyes with and find yourself so attracted to them? Like?? Yep, it’s this placement right here!!! This is such a weird thing, but y’all could easily get your desired seat when you’re traveling in a plane or train or whatever transport it is😭. Somehow, things are always working out for you!! Your charisma makes you a captivating teacher or speaker, and you can easily influence others with your ideas and beliefs. If y’all are in some foreign country, you best believe a shit ton of people probably have a crush on you or just find you super attractive 🫣

KLEOPATRA IN THE 10TH HOUSE ✨

⚜️ Y’ALL GIVE EXTREMELY REGAL ENERGY, FR. YOU ARE LITERALLY THE HOT MAFIA CEO IN EVERY WATTPAD FANFIC 😭💅🏼(excluding all the toxicity, ofc💀). In the 10th house, Kleopatra brings a charismatic and strategic presence to your career and public life. You possess the ability to use your charm and cunning to climb the professional ladder and achieve recognition in your chosen field. Your beauty and allure can significantly impact your public image, making you a prominent figure in your industry. There’s this song called “fucked my way to the top” by Lana Del Rey, and umm, quite a possibility, tbh🫣😭. Regardless, y’all would have been ON TOP either way

KLEOPATRA IN THE 11TH HOUSE ✨

⚜️ This is the friend who always takes charge when it comes to hosting events or get-togethers, and all your friends genuinely admire you and LOVE to follow your lead. Y’all are the types to playfully flirt with your friends too🤭. You have the ability to influence and lead groups, using your charm to rally support for causes and projects. Your beauty and allure can make you a popular figure within your social circles. You literally could be a social media influencer because, girl, you best believe you are definitely INFLUENCING A LOT OF PEOPLE 😌. This placement suggests a desire to achieve power through social connections and collective efforts, often using your wits to create change within your community

KLEOPATRA IN THE 12TH HOUSE✨

⚜️ MY ETHEREAL BABIES🥹, okay, so tbh, with this placement, people tend to underestimate you and think you aren’t good at asserting yourself, but that’s exactly what YOU WANT them to think. Playing dumb but knowing literally everything and they could destroy you if they wanted to (don’t test them, fr). They may look ditzy or something, but TRUST ME, they are FAR from it. Super fucking intuitive too. Their intuition could help them pick the best option for them!! (Listen to your intuition, peeps). Also, everyone is A TAD BIT subconsciously attracted to you😭, like they can’t even help it. Your allure and strategic mind can help you navigate the hidden aspects of life, such as dreams, intuition, and the collective unconscious. This placement suggests a desire to achieve power through spiritual growth and understanding, often using your charm to uncover hidden truths. Y’all honestly give siren vibes (in the best possible way)😌.

divider, banner, gif credits : @/hanitos

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

[yanderenightmare]

your vocab is really rich, what's ur secret

Writing Advice: Vocabulary Tricks & Tips

Excellent request!

Read! And every time you stumble upon a word you've never noticed before or know but don't often use, put it in a list, write down its meanings, and try using it the next time you write! (I'll put my list at the end of the post)

Read different things! Different authors and different styles, especially poetry! I mean, if you're looking to fatten your vocab, reading poetry is one of the best ways to do it. Poetic writers must search far and wide for the perfect words to create rhymes and rhythms and audibly pleasing sentences---they practically do all the work for you! Honestly, I am so serious about this. One of the best things you can do is buy a fat compendium of poetry with all different authors and eras. Get you some Edgar Allen Poe, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson, and Shakespeare if you want to hurt your head. Also! The same goes for music! Try listening to the lyrics---you'll probably hear some words you've never thought of using in your writing.

Here's a cheap trick for bilinguals---write something in your own language and put it through Google Translate. Honestly, I've found so many words just by doing this.

Every time you feel you've used a word too much, or anytime a word bores you to read, search up its synonyms and try using something you've never used before---don't stop the search until you're satisfied. Sometimes, it takes me more time to find just one word than it takes to write an entire post. Not only does this enrich your vocab, but you've probably just written a whole other sentence with newer meanings and more nuance!

Make your own synonym lists! Seriously! Because you can only find that many creative synonyms by searching up "word+synonyms."

Additionally! Think outside the box! Often, the best synonyms are those words that aren't actual synonyms at all. If you read poetry, you'll see poets use unorthodox words in place of something all the time---it's called a metaphor. Take flesh, for example---you can use fat, meat, muscle, brawn, beef---but you can also use cake, down, plume, pillow, softness, etc... I find this one especially useful for writing erotica, as you have to describe a lot of the same actions and body parts over and over and still make it interesting. (I'll add my synonyms list at the end of the post)

Also! This one is trickier, but instead of using words and synonyms, try making sentences that can replace the word instead---such as longer metaphors and fuller descriptions! This aligns with the literary device of "showing vs. telling." Of course, outright telling has its uses too and should not be disbarred entirely from writing, but often, it's showing that persuades the reader more. For example, instead of saying nervous, make sentences that describe how the character in question showcases nervousness---does their throat close up, do they sweat, do their eyes go wide, do they stutter, do they fiddle with their fingers, pick their nails, bite their lip, kick the ground, hunch their shoulders, look away, blush, flush, cry, run away or do they feel stuck? Describing these things helps the reader better understand the type of nervousness the character is experiencing. Hence, it makes for not only more interesting writing but also clearer writing!

A similar literary device is "focus and expanding," which slows down the reading or puts focus on certain aspects of the text by describing something to a great extent. If, say, this nervousness the example character is experiencing is of great significance, then that's what the readers' takeaway should be. But the reader won't think too much of it if the text simply states that they're nervous without underlining it. Luckily, there are plenty of ways of doing that, firstly through showing vs. telling, such as in the examples above, then metaphorically, such as "the ground seemed to swallow him up, down the guzzle of a monster with an appetite for disaster---darkness ensued like a storm cloud, cold and clawing with a weight heavy enough to nail him to the spot---all eyes were on him, unblinking and all-seeing, no matter what, he couldn't escape, he was stuck, glued to the ground by the soles of his shoes." I mean, the options are truly endless. These metaphors piled together are also a form of focusing and expanding, but you can take it even further than that by focusing on a small detail and giving it significance. For example, say the character is sweating because he's so nervous---you might focus on a single droplet of sweat instead of everything else, "A chill ran down his back. No, not a chill--sweat. Cold and creepily tracing the rigid bones of his spine. He can't move--if he moves, then they'll see. The sweat will seep into his shirt, and everyone will know what a sweaty and pathetic wreck he is. So, he can't move. No, yes, leave it alone. The droplet continues, running down the cold skin of his clammy back, sliding undeterred until meeting the band of his boxers and disappearing in the fibers. He swallows thickly and sighs with relief--only for another to pill at his nape, tracking the same course as the former. A vicious cycle is forming. He needs to get out of there!" And that's focus and expanding, folks! Focusing on something minuscule and expanding it by using it to describe what the character is feeling. It's a way to have a fresh take on something that's been written a thousand times before, such as "he was nervous."

Anyway, I might have gone a little above and beyond, but really, all these literary devices are ways of "expanding vocabulary" or at least giving an impression of it.

NEW WORDS

Manically---like a maniac

Despotic---like a dictator, having unlimited power over someone, often using it unfairly and cruelly

Chasm---a deep fissure, like a ravine, wound, or metaphorical rupture

Shunts---track-change basically, scoots to the side

Dearth---a scarcity or lack of something, a shortage

Raucous---making a harsh or loud noise

Innocuous---not harmful or offensive---harmless and safe, but also bland and unremarkable, maybe even a little boring

Lanyard---the woven necklace of a festival pass

Gossamer---fine spiderwebs, almost mesh

Cossetted---care for and protect in an overindulgent way

Beribboned---decorated with many ribbons

pupil-fat---cool way of saying enlarged pupils

Chitters---snickers, like a bird

Decadent---corrupt, depraved

Blotting---either soak up and absorb, or stain, or obscure

Barbell---a bar “pole” with attachments on each side

Bunting---of animals, when they butt or rub their head against you

Garnet---red

Cherubic---angelic, plump cuteness, quality of a child

Haunches---hips

Sodden---soaking

Waxing poetic---speaking in a flowery or poetical fashion

Inkwell---a container for ink---a dark well

Rend---tear in two, or more pieces

Ebb---recede, go back, like a tide wave

Webbed---like a duck's feet

Cloying---sickly sweet

Saccharine---oversweet

Apple of your cheek

Swathes---wrap, swaddle

Shroud---obscure something

Moonstone---to describe something grey and dusty, but pretty

Kinked---tangled, messy

Leaden---heavy, dull, slow or the colour of lead, grey

Stygian---devoid of light and brightness, hellish

Flaxen---of hair, champagne colored---ashy blonde

Tepid---lukewarm

SYNONYMS

Related to sucking cock:

Swallow

Glug

Drink

Eat

Guzzle

Receive

Take

Suck

Suckle

Slobber

Gargle

Gurgle

Drool

Gulp

Gobble

Stuff

Glut

Choke

Gag

Lap

Lick

Kitten-lick

Slurp 

Allow entry

Related to kissing:

Kiss

Lock/brush lips

Tongue-feed

Suck faces

Smooch

Peck

Snog

Canoodle

Related to biting:

Bite

Graze

Nip

Nibble

Sink teeth into

Chomp

Related to crying:

Whimpering

Mewling

Bleating

Whining

Snivel

Sniffle

Cry

Sob

Bawl

Hiccup

Spluttering

Blubbering

Coughing

Croaking

Related to pre-cum:

Ooze

Leak

Weep

Well

Drip

Dribble

Flow

Drain

Bleed

Sweat

Seep

Pill

Pearl

Cry

Related to fear and panic:

Hysterical

Wild

Manic

Uncontrolled

Unrestrained

Frantic

Frenzied

Restless

Hectic

Sporadic

Swivel-eyed

Related to screaming:

Scream

Yell

Wail

Yelp

Yip

Yammer

Squawk

Howl

Squeal

Shriek

Related to moaning:

Moan

Whine

Yelp

Purr

Hum

Croon

Related to overstimulated moaning:

Mumble

Croon

Warble

Quaver

Burble

Bumble

Hum

Slur

Ramble

Mutter

Whisper

Stammer

Stutter

Scramble

Jumble

Muddled

Babble

Blubbered

Splutter

Blurt

Related to groaning:

Groan

Grunt

Growl

Grumble

Grouch

Hiss

Guttural

Feral

Rusty 

Throaty

Wet

Sloppy

Related to angry noises:

Howl

Roar

Bark

Grizzle

Grump

Related to surprise or fear:

Gasp

Gulp

Choke

Suck in a sharp breath

Flinch

Jump

Jostle

Wince

Hiss

Pull back

Related to comforting:

Coo

Fuss

Comfort

Hush

Shush

Tsk

Mollycoddle

Nurse

Cuddle

Babying

Consoling

Soothe

Loving

Smothering

Hug

Hug tight

Cocoon

Snuggling

Swaddling

Rock back and forth with

Cosseting

Petting

Overwhelm

Related to begging:

Beg

Pleading

Pray

Bargain

Related to soreness and pain:

Ache

Sore

Throb

Swollen

Fattened

Welted

Related to taking cock inside entrance:

Swallow

Receive

Take

Suck inside

Stuff

Fill

Allow entry

Submit to

Ease inside

Bully inside

Squeeze inside

Force inside

Push

Pry

Related to how the hole squeezes:

Kissing

Fluttering

Hugging

Pressing

Squishing

Squeezing

Tightening

Pulsing

Related to a wet hole:

Slush

Squelch

Squishy

Creamy

Sloppy

Wet

Soaked

Slosh

Sop

Cry

Slick

Weep

Drool

Gush

Swollen

Velvety

Gummy

Cotton

Silken

Satiny

Related to thrusting:

Squeeze into

Pound

Jam

Ram

Rut

Loll

Rock

Thrust

Stuff

Bottom out

Fill

Fit

Nestle

Cram

Prodding

Poking

Kissing

Hammering

Jack-hammer

Smack

Slap

Ream

Related to pleasure:

Ecstatic

Opium-eyed

Euphoric

Elated

Thrilled

Blissed-out

Rapturous

High

Cloudy

Numb

Related to overstimulation:

Overstimulated

Outdone

Aching

Burning

Sweating

Feverish

Delirious

Febrile

Numb

Immobile

Dazed

Dull

Related to being dumb, high, or overstimulated:

Ditzy

Dumb

Clumsy

Silly

Foolish

Giddy

Brainless

Dizzy

Fuzzy

Dopey

Whimsical

Fickle

Featherbrained

Daft

Hare-brained

Awkward

Graceless

Blundering

Bumbling

Klutzy

Clueless

Cloddish

Dense

Related to the body and the flesh:

Tender

Supple

Soft

Creamy

Plush

Doughy

Cakey

Downy

Pillowy

Malleable

Squeezable

Biteable

Pliable

Touchable

Putty

Plume

Related to cuteness:

Cute

Cherubic

Adorable

Sweet

Soft

Precious

Darling

Lovable

Endearing

Baby

Related to weak or smallness:

Breakable

Brittle

Weak

Fragile

Dainty

Delicate

Frail

Flimsy

Vulnerable

Petite

Small

Little

Tiny

Feeble

Defenseless

Powerless

Helpless

Worthless

Hopeless

Related to struggling:

Struggle

Winding

Striving

Straining

Toiling

Playing

Wriggle

Wiggle

Twist

Shake

Tremor

Shiver

Quake

Related to men:

Vulgar

Loud

Oafish

Rough

Rude

Rustic

Gruff

Gross

Doltish

Barbaric

Bearish

Beastly

Churlish

Coarse

Swinish

[sp4ceboo]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: ty taylor swift i attempted to base this fic on your song but then i divulged as normal

tw: 18+, smut, p in v, inkpie, oral (both recieving), sub feyd by which i mean feyd is DOMMED, spit, degradation + praise, one spank kinda, swearing, lil bit of crying, mention of evil baron activities so sa + pedophilia, tiny mention of cheating but none actually happens, lmk if there's anything else bc lbr there probably is i just forgot it

wc: 3.9k

Feyd-Rautha has gravely underestimated you.

It is true that you are not strong in terms of Harkonnen definitions, but you expected a man destined to father the Kwisatz Haderach to be able to see past that. What was that the Bene Gesserit were saying about superior genetics? You don’t see even a glimpse of that in his frosty gaze when he regards you - he looks at you as if you’re a delicate vase that may shatter in the lightest of breezes. He thinks he needs to fear breaking you.

He misses how you miss nothing.

You are not Bene Gesserit; you are merely one of their pawns, a genetic machination produced from centuries of manipulations and deceptions, but you can read a man better than the majority of their number.

The seething jealousy in the clenching off Glossu Rabban’s fists is like a monster sinking its venom laced fangs into his heart: starkly evident to you - as evident as the barely repressed, parasitic fear of inadequacy that lurks like a second beast within the first. Just the same, the gazes the Baron sends your husband do not escape you. Nor does the caged, wild look that washes over him whenever you leave his uncle’s chambers: the look of a man who inside is still a boy, relief washing over him that he has left unscathed and untouched for another time.

Even more nuanced than that, you see the vulnerability within Feyd-Rautha. He craves to be loved, the way he should have been as a child, when instead he was desired; all this at an age where the most he should have been doing was playing with carved wooden toys at his parent’s feet.

He believes no one can see the last, soft sliver of his heart that he’s fought to preserve, that wants nothing but to have someone to be vulnerable with, just because he’s buried it so deep inside of him that sometimes even he doesn’t think it’s there any more.

But you see it.

You see beneath it too, to a place that he himself is not fully aware of. A place where he hates who he has become - a wild, savage creature, bleeding from wounds that do not seem to close up, slipping in its own blood when no one can see.

It’s from here, from this place, that the urge to preserve you somehow originates. He thinks you are a flower whose petals will easily be crushed in his heavy, calloused hands, and he is wrong; in a strange way it endears you to him, that he believes that he is too rough to hold you. You do not think it is quite love - not yet, at least, it is only the third month of your marriage - but when you see him fighting to not be the beast that he is before you in an effort to spare you, something that is not just pity stirs in your heart.

You can hear him now, pacing, cursing under his breath in the antechambers. Sometimes he sleeps there, on the narrow sofa, and you’ve come to realise it is those nights when he wants you most. Aside from your wedding night, he has made no other attempts to produce an heir, and you find his restraint valiant, but stupid.

He could try as hard as he liked; he would not get anywhere close to breaking you.

Rising from your seat on the small, ornate stool at the vanity, you push open the door to the antechamber and take a step into the room. Feyd pauses his pacing with his back to you, and you can see the tension in his shoulders and the rigid way he holds his body before he turns around to face you. His pupils are dilated, his eyes dark, and you watch him regard you with something too untethered to be restraint.

‘Am I keeping you awake, wife?’

You shake your head. ‘I had not retired yet.’

You know he expects you to explain why you’ve interrupted him, but you remain quiet - your silence is as much of a tool as your words. He doesn’t speak either, but his eyes tell you enough; they do not leave your frame, hungry, torrid, and his fingers twitch as if they ache to slip you out of the simple shift you wear to sleep and touch you everywhere, to explore the curves and dips of your body.

Tilting your head, you smirk. ‘If you wish to give me your heirs, husband, I would advise another method that differs from staring one into me.’

‘You don’t know what I want,’ he growls, but his face tells other tales.

Stepping forward, you reach out to him but he backs away. Still, the sheer thirst in his eyes sears away at you, even as his actions fight against it, his fingers closing on the doorknob. His hands are steady, his shoulders too, but the tightness in his muscles betrays him as always. Usually, you’d let him go now, but tonight you wish to see how far he will let you push him before he pushes back, so you snare his forearm in your fingers, tugging at him as he turns the knob.

He doesn’t look at you. ‘Don’t test me.’

You smile, cloyingly so. ‘Why not?’

Lightly, you trace your fingers down his chest, straightening the fabric of his black shirt while you gaze thoughtfully up at him through your lashes, lips curving upwards at the indecision in his eyes. He fights it, wrestles with the burning need, but in the end, he prevails, transforming it into a streak of anger that colours his voice as he tears himself from your grasp, recoiling as if your touch ignites pain within him - and maybe it is pain, that he wants you so but fears to indulge himself.

‘Get away from me.’

Feyd-Rautha does not give you a second to do so, because he is the one haring down the dimly lit corridor, his jaw tight, nails digging into his palms. Truthfully, you have never seen him move that fast, not even in the arena, and it almost makes you laugh - the great na-Baron fleeing from his wife and his own lecherous thoughts.

Maybe you did not win this round of tug of war, but he has asked something of you - to get away from him. Over the next few weeks, you follow this to the letter, avoiding him like the plague; you do not interrupt his pacing in the antechambers, nor do you haunt the bedroom like you normally do, asking him questions that he cannot answer. Feyd-Rautha is sensitive to change and you know he will seek the reason for it.

There is a barely cloaked intensity in his eyes when he finally corners you, and under it, you detect recognition: he sees that you are not who he thought you were, and he sees that you are not so different from him - always observing, always planning, and so, mind shatteringly hungry.

You were just dropping by the bed chambers to gather some of your clothes. The night before, you’d relocated yourself to one of the guest bedrooms - you could sense Feyd’s resolve cracking, and you knew that this would break it for certain: coming into his chambers to find them empty, wifeless, your side of the bed damningly cold. Jealousy is clear in his eyes as he backs you against the vanity, filling you with a rising sense of triumph.

‘What has caused this change in your behaviour, wife?’

You raise a brow, faking confusion. ‘What change? I would argue it is your behaviour that has changed, Feyd, you who can barely stand to be in a room alone with me.’

He snarls. ‘Who were you with last night?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get away from you,’ you reply, keeping up your pretence a little longer. ‘I slept in the guest quarters. You do not reciprocate any of my advances.’

‘Advances?’ He echoes, incredulous. ‘You taunt me, wife. It’s like you want me to break you.’

Cocking your head, you regard him coolly for a moment, letting some of the sharpness of your unmasked gaze leak through, letting him see the calculation in your eyes - you see the wariness it incites in him as he realises again that you are not who he thinks you are. Wordless, you lean in close to him, bringing your face to his, hovering there.

And then you let your arm drop and make a swipe for the knife at his belt.

Fast as a viper, he catches your wrist in your fingers, but you smile, challenge in your eyes as you bring his second blade to his neck. You’d slipped it out while he was distracted with your other hand, and he blinks at the cold press of it to his skin.

‘That’s the problem, isn’t it?’ You murmur. ‘You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of breaking me. Who’s afraid of little old me, huh? No one is, Feyd.’

‘They should be,’ he whispers, and when you meet his gaze, it sets you alight.

‘Indeed,’ you reply softly, letting your lower lip brush his.

As he kisses you, his hands seizing your face and locking you to him, you hook his knife’s blade in the collar of his shirt and drag it down, slicing the fabric until it flutters to the floor. Pulling away, you take him in - the moonlight planes of his sculpted chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his roiling, keen gaze. This man whets your appetite in the darkest kinds of ways: you cannot wait to ruin him.

Absently, you trace the outline of the tent in his pants with the tip of the knife blade. A breathy noise leaves him, and he freezes as if he can feel the cold kiss of the metal against his skin; you laugh, delighted that he is so mouldable in your hands.

‘Get on your knees,’ you command, seating yourself on the end of the bed.

It’s captivating, his lack of hesitation as he follows your orders. He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, and you can tell that he’s letting you see him like this, you can tell that if he didn’t want you to have him like this, you wouldn’t, but still, you reach out, gently skimming his shoulder with your fingertips.

‘All you have to do is say, and I will stop,’ you say.

He dips his chin. ‘I do not think I’ll have to.’

You smirk, something savage and powerful and thrillingly depraved rearing its head inside you, awakened by the sight of the na-Baron kneeling at your feet. That will be his last coherent sentence tonight.

Pausing, making him wait, you lean down a little, inspecting his features, the ardour in his eyes. He looks at you as if you hold the universe in your hands, as if you hung the stars in his sky, as if you are a  goddess, and he wants nothing but to worship you until he is expended.

You spit on him.

It lands on his cheek, and his eyes widen a fraction. A shudder wracks his body, and he simply stares up at you, breathing heavy, before slowly, his lips part, and he sticks out his tongue, his request evident. You grab his jaw, squeezing so that he opens up wider, and spit in his mouth - the low groan that leaves him as he swallows is fucking delectable.

His cock twitches in his pants when you pick up the knife. Tracing the blade over the shell of his ear, over his cheekbone and over his lips, you marvel at the way he holds still, awaiting what you’ll inflict on him next like a good little toy.

When the metal reaches his jaw, you nick the skin, drinking up his sharp intake of breath and the clench of his fists as the blood trickles down the column of his throat; you catch the droplet of crimson on your tongue, licking a careful stripe up his neck, grinning when you catch his lips in a kiss and he trembles at the taste of his own blood. Feyd is greedy, his tongue brushing against yours as he leans up into your touch, the way his mouth works against yours hot, fervent, pleading.

Planting a palm to his sternum, you push him back, chuckling when he strains to follow you, eyes glazed, lips swollen. You spot a streak of red and swipe your thumb over his lower lip, wiping it off before standing.

‘Get up, strip, and get on the bed,’ you bid him, pulling your own shift over your head.

Feyd scrambles to follow your orders, yanking his pants down, and you take your time to admire his muscle sheathed body; strength ripples beneath his skin, a sweet dichotomy to his weeping cock, rock hard and flushed rosy. He halts his movements, as if he’s pinned down by your appraising gaze.

‘For whom do you wait, husband?’

As he turns to get onto the bed, he’s a little too slow and you swat at his ass. A choked sound leaves him, and you laugh at the way his knees almost buckle. Feyd’s ears run red when he lies down on the mattress, and you straddle his thighs, sneering at the way he twists his fingers in the sheets, squirming beneath you.

‘Pathetic.’

You don’t give him time to respond, instead wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping up and down fast, and he gasps at your rough touch, his back arching and his hands coming up to touch you - you wave them off you, meeting his eyes.

‘No touching,’ you intone, the hint of warning in your voice enough to render him obedient.

This time, you take his cock head in your mouth. He’s so fucking sensitive, reacting as if the sweep of your thumb down the underside of him and the slide of your tongue over him is mind shattering; it doesn’t take you long to get him teetering at the edge of his orgasm, just for you to pull away at the last moment.

His thigh jolts, weak pleas of your name leaving his lips, gripping the sheets so hard you wonder if they’ll rip. Again, you take him in your mouth, deeper, one hand dipping to play with his balls; you revel in the wretched sound that he makes when you hollow your cheeks around him, your teeth grazing up his length. You toy with him until you think he’s moments from breaking, until he’s writhing upon the sheets, face contorted in pleasure loaded with sweet, sweet agony.

‘Please let me come,’ he whimpers, voice cracking, the look in his eyes crazed, pitiful. ‘Please.’

You decide to give it to him, jerking him brutally fast until he comes; it hits him like a tidal wave - his eyes roll back in his skull, his body tensing, rigid and impossibly taut before he goes boneless, a broken cry of your name on his lips as he spills all over his stomach. A single, ecstatic tear slides down his cheek as his orgasm seizes him, snatching him up and shaking him like a ragdoll.

Lingering at his side, you wait until he’s come down from his high before getting up to retrieve a damp cloth from the bathroom, perching on the bed beside him and cleaning up his come, pressing kisses to the surprisingly soft skin of his hips. One wavering hand comes to rest in your hair, and you glance up at him, biting back a smug grin at the dazed look in his eyes.

‘Feeling okay?’

He nods.

‘Words,’ you chide.

‘Y - yes, na-Baroness. Better than okay.’

You raise a brow at that. You did not specify for him to call  you anything, so this is all his doing; he fidgets beneath your gaze, and you note that he’s growing hard again, his cock stiffening between his thighs.

‘Can I…’ He begins, but trails off, thinking better of it.

‘No, little na-Baron,’ you reply coyly. ‘Tell me what you desire.’

His eyes scorch you with their yearning. ‘I want to taste you, na-Baroness.’

You smile. ‘As you wish.’

You lean back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open for him. It’s somewhat comical, the way his eyes widen as he sees your slick cunt, and he swallows harshly - you can almost sense his mouth watering. Carefully, reverently, almost, he nudges your knees over his wide shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy, admiring you. It’s as if he’s testing himself, waiting to see how long it takes for him to break and taste you.

Lurching forward, Feyd groans, low and deep and right against your clit when he laps at your heat, quickly becoming insatiable as his tongue moves masterfully at the apex of your legs, laving over your clit and curving in and out of you. Bolts of pleasure spear through your body, fierce like crackling lightning at the eye of a storm - he is everything to you in this moment. He shatters you, breaking you and mending you anew.

As he brings you closer, your body begins to shake and your legs close around his head; you suffocate him with your thighs, and you can tell he lives for it from the way he fervently grips your ass in his large hands, kneading the flesh and moaning into your pussy.

Something pulls tight within you, deliciously so, and you cry his name in warning, fingers curling around the base of his neck to hold him still as your hips buck, rutting into his face. Dimly, you can see him grinding into the mattress as you fuck yourself on his tongue - the chafe of his nose against your clit makes you shatter, and you fall apart for him with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders.

You’re still coming down from it when Feyd begins to lap at you again, dutifully cleaning you up, and you twitch with the slight overstimulation, hooking a finger under his chin to see his eyes: his gaze is loaded with the heat of a thousand suns, and yet somehow it is also bleary, drunk. A laugh escapes you, and you tug at his hand, encouraging him to lie beside you.

‘Good boy,’ you hum as he nuzzles into your touch. You can feel him achingly hard against your thigh, and you let yourself catch your breath before reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘Want to fuck me now, hm?’

He nods avidly. ‘Yes, na-Baroness.’

All it takes is for you to half spread your legs before he’s climbing eagerly between them, hesitating before looking up at you for permission. You dip your chin, smirking, and then he’s sinking into you, burying himself inside you.

Voice cracking, Feyd chokes out your name, and he shudders, gasping at the velvet vice of your cunt as it clenches, bearing down on him. Sharply, you rock your hips up to meet his, and this time, a soft, keening whine leaves him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip.

He can barely keep himself from spilling inside you.

‘You can barely hold it, can’t you, my little na-Baron?’

His words come out jumbled, his speech scrambled, mind ground to a standstill by the all consuming heat of your cunt; he babbles out protests, saying that he can, desperate to prove he can, stammering that he wants to make you feel good.

Cruelly, you buck your hips up against his again, and a pained sound looses from his chest, but he thrusts to meet you, hips lurching forward, his arms almost buckling either side of your head. Panting, he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, unable to stifle the whimper that tears from the back of his throat when you rake your nails down his shoulder blades, claiming him, littering his shoulders and neck with bites.

‘That’s it,’ you sigh as he finds his pace. ‘Just like that, good boy.’

A strangled noise tears itself from him at your praise, and he fucks into you, frantic, almost feral. Eventually, his thrusts begin to turn sloppy, and you kiss him in order to steal his breath and taste his fervid moans of your name on your tongue as he comes deep inside you.

Pressing a palm to his lower back, you pin him there, buried snugly within your pussy as you reach down with your other hand and rub your clit hard - it takes but a moment for you to come, and he writhes at the cataclysmic feel of your walls fluttering around him, overstimulating him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he comes again with your cunt milking his cock.

Completely spent, Feyd goes limp, and you rub your hand over his back, smoothing circles on his skin with your lips to his forehead. The post orgasm clarity begins to hit him, and you feel him go rigid - slowly, he pulls out, his seed leaking out now that he’s not filling you, and he attempts to get up, but his legs are too weak and he collapses beside you instead, his chest heaving, his eyes still a little hazy, still fucked out, even as he fights for lucidity.

There’s something on his face that cuts at your heart - a look of expectancy, as if he’s waiting for you to get up and leave now that you’ve had your fill of him. Concerned, you reach out, and he leans away from your touch.

‘Feyd,’ you murmur. ‘It was not too much, was it?’

‘N - no,’ he replies. ‘I just…’

Sitting up slowly, you look him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered, but you press a finger to his lips, foregoing your own fumbling words to instead recite the pledge of allegiance of a Harkonnen soldier to their general; his eyes widen - you know you have hit home. You’d exchanged wedding vows, of course, but these have a different meaning: you see it in the respectful way it is uttered, a soldier acknowledging his superior’s presence.

You pledge to him not only your heart, but your sword - your service - too.

‘Wife,’ Feyd bites out. ‘Surely you do not mean - ’

‘I mean it,’ you cut in. ‘Every word.’

Again, you reach for him, and this time he does not flinch away, letting you tuck him close to you, his breath coming out shaky. Gently, you tip up his chin, planting a chaste kiss on his parted lips, and he returns it slowly, wondrously, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle brush of his mouth against yours: the innocence of it is bittersweet - has anyone ever kissed him this tenderly?

Carefully, you withdraw, wanting to see him, but he does not let you meet his eyes, instead hiding his face in your neck, his lips at the hollow of your throat. You grant him the privacy of not being seen when you feel wetness on your skin, his hot tears tracking down and pooling in your collarbone - his hands ball at his sides, and you pry open his fingers and lace yours with his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tightly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him with a hand cupping the back of his head, cradling him to your chest.

Your voice is quiet in the still air, but it carries as if through an arena, a promise arcing through the air like a soaring arrow.

‘You no longer walk this world alone, Feyd-Rautha.’

best believe when i started writing this i did not anticipate the 2x 'good boy's 🧍

dune taglist: @callumsgirl @oh-you-mean-me @insufferablyunbearable

[cleo-fox]

Movie Night

Summary: You’re not really sure why Loki shows up for your movie nights. He never seems to like the movies, even when he picks them, and every movie you watch together is accompanied by a litany of dry complaints and general sarcasm from him. This is partly why it always ends up being just the two of you—the others don’t have the patience to put up with it. You generally think it’s funny, so you’ve never rescinded his invitation.

That and…you kind of have a thing for him.

Pairing: Loki/Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, couch sex, quiet sex, praise kink, friends to lovers, making out, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, praise kink.

A/N: I’m working on cross posting all my stuff from AO3. I wrote this a little while ago in an effort to address some writer’s block (it didn’t work, but I had fun writing it). This is also on AO3.

You’re not really sure why Loki shows up for your movie nights. He never seems to like the movies, even when he picks them, and every movie you watch together is accompanied by a litany of dry complaints and general sarcasm from him. This is partly why it always ends up being just the two of you—the others don’t have the patience to put up with it. You generally think it’s funny, so you’ve never rescinded his invitation.

That and you’ve got a little bit of a thing for him. You think he might have some interest in you, but you’re not certain enough to make the first move.

You look forward to your movie nights, but when this particular Friday night rolls around, you’re absolutely dragging by the time the clock strikes eight, thanks to a bad night of sleep the previous evening. Before the movie even starts, you’re wrapping yourself in the soft throw from your room and curling up, pillowing your head on the arm of the couch.

“I didn’t realize I would have such riveting company this evening,” says Loki dryly.

You roll your eyes and stretch obnoxiously, purposely shoving your feet into his lap. “I was up ‘til three this morning, give me a break.”

“Surely you need your full wits about you to appreciate the nuance of this fine cinema.”

He’s being sarcastic; you decide to ignore it because that will annoy him the most. You stifle a yawn and give him your most beatific smile before hunkering back down under your blanket. Loki grumbles something indeterminate, but he doesn’t shove your feet off his lap—in fact, he drapes his arm over your ankles like it’s not a big deal at all.

This simple gesture warms you from the inside out and sends a flurry of butterflies fluttering through your stomach. You are pretty sure nothing is going to come of it—stuff like this has been going on for months and nothing has happened—but it’s still nice. You have no idea what it means, but it’s nice.

You’re not entirely surprised that you fall asleep during the movie—you are tired and while you don’t necessarily want to admit that any of Loki’s cinematic complaints have merit, the movie really wasn’t very good. Between that and your cozy blanket, it’s a recipe for an unintentional nap.

It’s dark when you wake up. You don’t really remember falling asleep, though you think it must have been about halfway through the film, based on the last hazy bit of dialogue you can recall.

You certainly don’t remember Loki sliding over on the couch to join you. But here he is, spooned up against your back, arms snaking around your waist, and the blanket tucked neatly over the two of you.

It’s dark and quiet and his breath is warm and even against the back of your neck. You’re reasonably certain that he’s asleep, though you wouldn’t necessarily bet money on it.

You consider your options. You probably should get up before someone wanders in and finds you like this, but…you don’t want to. You are wildly attracted to Loki—there’s no denying that—and the feeling of his strong arms wrapped snugly around your waist and the warmth of his broad chest pressing against your back is far too intoxicating to give up, even though you’re currently tangled up with him in a common area.

Still…you’re not entirely sure what to do about this. At some point, you’ll both need to go to your respective beds. Pretending to be asleep when he wakes is almost certainly not an option—he’ll somehow know that you’re faking and he’ll absolutely call you out on it, which will make the whole thing worse. Going back to sleep is tempting, but it presents its own set of risks.

But then…why did he curl up with you like this? Surely he wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t find you appealing in some way. Maybe you don’t actually need an exit strategy? Maybe you can just enjoy it. You’re a bit too comfortable, sleepy, and distracted to think properly, anyway. You allow yourself to relax further into his embrace.

And then you feel his cock twitch against your ass.

It’s almost impressive how quickly your body shifts from content and pleasantly sleepy to wide awake and intensely aroused. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there’s a calm and rational voice saying you’re being ridiculous, but this is easily drowned out by the growing ache between your thighs.

You press your thighs together and try to take slow and even breaths, but it doesn’t really help. If you weren’t sure what to do before, now you’re at a complete loss. The safe assumption would be to chalk it up to biology and timing and move on, but it’s really difficult to do that when you’ve been locked in this flirty back and forth with him for months and you want him as much as you do.

You feel him twitch again and you bite your lip as the ache between your thighs pulses in a kind of answer, the slickness growing. Your breath is quiet, but shallow, your heart thrumming in your throat.

You’re trying to keep perfectly still, but between your aching core and the slight kink in your hip from the way you’re positioned on the couch, doing so is easier said than done. You hold out for as long as you can before you give in and shift your hips slightly, trying to be as subtle as possible.

He stirs in his sleep and pulls you closer, his cock pressing hard against your ass. You’re not sure if he’s awake—his breath is still coming slow and even against the back of your neck—but you can’t quite suppress the way your own breath stutters in your throat when you feel him against you. 

God, you want him.

He flexes his fingers where they are splayed against your stomach. You feel the tip of his nose brush against the curve of your neck.

“Will you admit now that you want me?” he says. His voice is low and intimate and calls to mind dark silk and smoke.

“I didn’t know that you wanted me to,” you say, which is true—whatever’s been brewing between you has been subtle, more sidelong glances than lustful stares; you’ve never spoken about it.

“Don’t play coy with me, pet,” he says, his voice a soft growl against your neck. “I have enjoyed the chase, but I’ve no more patience for games.”

The slickness between your thighs increases at the slight roughness in his voice. His lips graze the shell of your ear and you let out a sharp breath.

“Admit it.” He catches your earlobe between his teeth and gently sucks it into his mouth.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your back arching slightly against him.

“In due time,” he says, his hips pressing back against you. “Answer me first.”

You roll over so that you’re facing him. The sharp, angular planes of his face are flattered by the faint, moody blue light from the sleeping city outside. He stares openly, brazenly, at your lips, his hand resting on your waist.

“What happens if I do?” you ask.

He gives you a wolfish smile and his hand strokes down your waist to your thigh. He pulls your leg up and over his hip, drawing you toward him so that his cock presses against your clothed heat. You have to bite your lip to hold back a moan, but you’re pretty sure he catches the slight hitch in your breath.

“You’re a clever girl,” he says, “I’m sure you can work it out.”

When you’ve thought about this moment before—and you’ve admittedly thought about it a lot—you’ve always imagined yourself smirking right back at him, meeting his clever quips with barbs of your own until he’s forced to admit how much he wants you. But you’re not quite prepared for the way that your brain abruptly short circuits at the feeling of his thick, hard cock pressing against your clit through the thin fabric of your leggings or how his gaze is a thousand times hungrier in the dark than it was in your imagination. It feels thrilling and sexy being here with him like this, tangled up in the dead of night in the middle of the common area. Clever quips and keeping him hanging seem like an impossibility several times over.

He seems to sense that your resolve is faltering because his hand slides to your lower back and he rocks his hips against you ever so slightly, giving you just a taste of that beautiful friction.

“Admit it.” It’s not a question this time and a pleasant shiver runs up your spine.

You lick your lips. “I—I want you.”

His smile is like sin. “Good girl.”

You’re practically trembling with want when he kisses you, so slow and sensual that it makes you whimper when his tongue strokes past your lips and into your mouth.

He moves in a languid, almost lazy way that makes you dizzy with need. He’s completely unhurried, but there’s a tension in his body that tells you he’s barely holding back, that he wants you a lot more than what he’s saying.

You almost don’t notice his hand sliding from your back to your hip and then ghosting along your stomach until he slips it under the band of your leggings.

“How much do you want me?” he asks as his fingers trail lightly along the fabric of your underwear.

“You can’t tell?” you ask, trying and mostly failing to keep your voice level.

“I like to be certain,” he says.

“You just like hearing me say it,” you say.

His eyes glitter as his hand slips under the elastic of your underwear and slowly creeps downward. “And why shouldn’t I like hearing you tell me how much you want me?”

“I—” His hand is so close to where you need him. He runs one finger right along the edge of your slit and your breath catches. “I—I don’t…”

He raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You don't…?”

“I…” Your mind is blissfully blank and every fiber of your being is focused on his hand and your aching clit. “I—I don’t…remember the question.”

You think you must have surprised him a little because he laughs in a way that makes his eyes light up, even in the moody blue half dark of the room. But after a brief moment he refocuses and his fingers slowly part your dripping folds and finally stroke your throbbing clit.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe, a moan catching in your throat.

“As I thought,” he tuts. “You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” You nod and he makes a scolding sound. “Say it. Tell me what you need.”

You can feel your cheeks heat, which is ridiculous given that he’s got his hand down your pants. You lick your lips. “I need to come.”

“And what do you want me to do about that?” His fingers circle your clit lightly and retreat.

You shiver, your hips rolling forward, searching out his fingers. “Touch me.”

“How?”

You bite back a whimper as his fingers trace a circuit around your clit, avoiding your obvious need. “Please, Loki.”

“I need you to be more specific, darling,” he purrs. Your hips roll forward and he retreats again.

“You know what I want,” you say.

His smile is sharp. “Have we not established that I like hearing you say such things?” His fingers bypass your clit again. “Tell me how you want me to touch you. Tell me what you want.”

Your pride—or what remains of it—has slowly eroded to nothing. You lick your lips. You need him.

“I—I need you to touch me,” you say again. “I want you to rub my clit until I come on your fingers.”

His smile is vulpine but his fingers finally roll over your clit, lightly circling it. You breathe out, your hips rocking with his hand.

“Absolutely drenched,” he murmurs. “You’re a proper mess, my love.”

“It’s because you’re such a fucking tease,” you say, your hands sliding up to grip his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise. “I’m a tease? Am I not giving you everything that you asked for?”

“After amping me up,” you retort.

“And I’m taking care of that now, aren’t I? I’m touching you just like you begged me to.” He changes the movement of his hand slightly, fingers rolling across the most sensitive part of your clit. You suck in a deep breath and his eyes darken as he readjusts his hand to hit that spot again. “And you obviously like it. I daresay you need it.”

Your head tips back as your hips rock with his hand. You can feel your orgasm beginning to build and for the first time, it occurs to you that you are doing this in the middle of a common area. Reluctant as you are to stop, you can’t help but think it might be best to relocate.

“Should—fuck, yes, just like that—should we go back to your room? Or mine?” you manage to gasp.

“I don’t see why that’s necessary.”

“S-someone might hear,” you gasp as his fingers massage your slick and swollen clit.

The white of his teeth flashes in the dark as he continues to touch you. “Then I suggest you keep quiet,” he says, his voice rough.

You manage to raise an eyebrow. “You don’t want to hear me?”

Another sharp smile. “Later.” His eyes darken. “You’ve kept me from my prize long enough. I rather think you’ve earned this little game.”

“I thought you had no more patience for games,” you manage to say.

He smiles and it occurs to you that he likes it when you talk back, perhaps just as much as you enjoy him putting you in your place. “Oh, I think I rather like this game,” he says, his fingers suddenly slowing, but still exerting a firm pressure on your clit. “How hard will you come for me? How quiet can you be?” His eyes darken again. “Or perhaps you don’t want to be quiet. Perhaps you want to be heard. Perhaps you want the others to know exactly what I’m doing to you.”

You shudder despite yourself.

“Wicked girl,” he murmurs appreciatively. “Letting me touch you out here in the open like this. Anyone could walk in here and see.”

“You’d really let that happen?” you ask. “I didn’t take you for the type who likes to share.”

The hunger in his eyes increases tenfold and you know this was the right thing to say. “Oh, I don’t share, darling. Especially not you.” He increases the speed of his fingers ever so slightly and your breath catches, the tension in your hips building. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? How many times I’ve thought about ravishing you until you forget every name but mine? How many times I’ve imagined you wet and begging for my cock?” His voice drops to a low rasp. “I have gone to bed hard and aching for you more nights than I can count.”

His words and his fingers are a wonderful and wicked combination. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his ink dark hair and pulling him in to kiss you. He does, but with such a lazy restraint that you can’t help but whimper a little, trying to press yourself closer as your hips rock with his hand. You’re reaching the place in the lead up to your orgasm where you’re so desperate to come that you feel like you’d do almost anything. It’s a heady place, with an edge of danger and you think that Loki must have an inkling of it based on the way his eyes darken.

“Did you think of me like this? Did you touch yourself, imagining the feeling of my hands on your body?”

“I—”

He must catch the slight hesitation in your eyes because that firm authority returns to his voice. “Tell me.”

Panting, you nod and earn another one of those dark and hungry smiles.

“How many times did you make yourself come while thinking of me?”

You don’t know the answer to that. Partly because it was like…several times a week. For the last six months. At least.

“A lot,” you finally manage.

His smile is devilish as he kisses you. “You’re going to come at least twice as hard for me tonight.”

The muscles of your cunt clench tightly around nothing. You need him so badly. Have you ever needed anyone like this? You’re fairly sure you haven’t. You’re getting close, your hips rolling with the stroke of his hand.

“Tell me how much you need it,” he purrs. “Tell me how you need to fall apart on my fingers.”

“Loki—”

“Tell me.”

“Please—I’m so close—”

“Tell me and I’ll let you come. Be a good girl for me, darling, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

You gasp. “Fuck, Loki, I—fuck, I need to come—I need you—”

You’re not sure how he manages it—perhaps there’s some magic involved, perhaps it’s luck or skill—but you start to come the moment the words leave your lips. The edges of your vision blur slightly as your orgasm overtakes you, roaring up from your hips and bursting like fireworks in the night sky. You gasp, trying to hold in a moan, but a slight whimper escapes you before Loki’s mouth covers your own, claiming you in a hungry kiss. His hand is still moving, fingers still circling your clit.

“Oh, yes,” he breathes against your lips. “Oh that’s lovely.”

It seems to last a long time, drawing out in long waves that make your toes curl. He kisses you throughout, until you very nearly lose track of where you end and he begins. All the while, his fingers keep rubbing your clit, extending your pleasure and making you shudder.

You can feel his cock still pressing against your hip and you want nothing more than to take him in your hands and make him feel just as good as he made you feel.

“I want to touch you,” you say and you’re treated to another one of those hungry smiles before he starts undoing the fastenings of his trousers. His cock finally springs free and you suck in a deep breath. He’s big—easily the biggest you’ve ever had—and you can’t help the ache that courses through you.

It’s immensely rewarding hearing his breath hitch when you take him in your hand. You’re surprised by how warm he is—you’d expect a Frost Giant to run a little cooler, but he’s hot and throbbing. You stroke him slowly from base to tip, squeezing his shaft ever so slightly.

His head tips back and he lets out a very quiet groan before reaching to push your hand away. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I’m sorry—” you start to say.

“I need you now,” he says, tugging your leggings and underwear down and off, his voice conveying both authority and desperation in a way that makes you ache.

He pulls you to him, drawing your leg up over his hip to spread you open. He rubs the tip of his cock along your slit, coating himself in your slickness and taking every opportunity to tease your clit.

He finally settles himself at your entrance and slowly begins easing into you.

He kisses you and it’s a good thing he does because you’re so slick and wound up that the dull, blunt stretch of his cock sliding inside of you unexpectedly tips you right back over the edge, pulling a soft moan from your lips as you come on his cock. You almost have a mind to be embarrassed—you’ve hardly begun and you’re already coming undone—but the feral glint in Loki’s eyes is enough to make you forget all about it.

“Like I said: you’re absolutely desperate for it, ” he says, pressing even deeper inside of you. “And you’re taking me so well.” He withdraws slightly and pushes forward again and you bury your face in his neck to hide your moan.

His fingers slide between your legs to find your clit. “I want to feel you come again,” he says, gently beginning to stroke you as he thrusts again. “You feel exquisite.”

It doesn’t take very long for him to build you back up—the steady thrust of his cock stroking your slick walls just right and his fingers expertly circling your clit is more than enough to take you there. It’s all so good and the way he’s kissing you is making you dizzy in the best way.

“I can feel you, darling,” he purrs in your ear. “Let go. Come on my cock like a good girl.”

With a few more thrusts, you do. You bury your face in his shoulder, trying to muffle your moans as much as possible.

“That’s it, yes,” he growls as he fucks you through the aftershocks. His brow is furrowed and his focus is intent and you can tell he’s getting close.

“Loki,” you breathe.

Even though he’s in the process of losing his composure, he still manages a wicked grin. “One more for me, love,” he rasps.

You’re not sure if you can manage another, to be quite frank. “Loki, I—”

“One more,” he says again, his eyes flashing. “One more and I’ll fill your tight, perfect cunt with my seed. One more and I’ll make you mine.”

His words send something electric and primal racing up your spine and quite suddenly, you find yourself hurtling toward the release you didn’t think you had in you. A choked whimper catches in your throat and you are trembling in his arms and with one last shudder, you come hard.

“Nearly there.” His words are punctuated by gasps, his hips never faltering in their rhythm.

His hips snap hard against you and he throws his head back, his face rapt in ecstasy, lost to a pure pleasure as he comes. He’s staggeringly beautiful in this moment and you’re filled with a feral kind of possessiveness—he is yours and you don’t want to share this moment or this feeling or this man with anyone else. It’s a startling thought—one you know that you know you’ll need to interrogate at some point—but you decide that it can wait until later. He starts kissing you and it nearly takes your breath away—it’s soft and tender and still so decadent it feels like it should be forbidden.

You want to stay in this moment with him, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock still pressed inside of you, but you know it can’t last. Something in your chest aches as he pulls away from you, vanishes the mess and tucks himself back into his trousers. He slowly stands up and you suddenly feel so much colder than you were before.

But before you can start to wallow in that misery, he’s bending down and scooping you up into his arms, throw blanket and all.

Before you can even think to ask where he’s taking you, you’re in his rooms and he’s placing you gently on the bed.

“Oh, so now you want privacy,” you say as you watch him quickly strip off his clothes, your gaze lingering on every emerging detail like you’re a woman starved.

He smirks and joins you in bed, covering your body with his and kissing you deeply as he pulls off the rest of your clothes. The feeling of his bare skin on yours is so dizzying that it takes you a moment to realize that he’s hard again.

“Already?” you say with a disbelieving laugh.

His smile is sin dripped in syrup. “I am a god, pretty girl.”

The ache between your legs returns and he kisses you like he knows it.

“And this time,” he says, his eyes glittering with want, “I want to hear you scream for me.”

You are more than happy to oblige.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Jude Jazza’s 2nd Birthday: “The Cursed Moon Within His Merciless Arms” Chapter 2

MDNI. This is a fan translation. 100% accuracy cannot be guaranteed. Please expect grammatical errors and lack of nuance. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not repost or claim my translations as your own. Thank you for your support! ☾���

TL note: Awkwardly translated spice, omg I'm so sorry.

Victor: Welcome back Jude and Kate! Everything’s ready for your birthday party……

Victor: Why do you look so tattered?!

Jude: Same as usual.

Victor: Something like, “I picked a fight with some people who have a grudge against me and got revenge,” right?

(I wonder if it’s because of Victor’s superior capability of understanding, or if it’s Jude’s norm to gain other’s hatred…..)

(…Probably both.)

Victor: First, let’s prepare a bath.…and if there are any injuries, I’ll call for Roger.

Jude: Only got blood spatter on me…… ‘N ya?

Kate: Not a single scratch either all thanks to your help, Jude.

Jude: Ha, all thanks to me ya say.

Jude: Ya out right tossed some git ‘cause o’ some self-defense maneuver Ellis taught’cha.

Kate: That was only possible because you made sure I wasn’t the focus of their target, Jude—

While Jude and I bickered over today’s incident, Victor burst out laughing.

Victor: Haha, you both really are a great match, don’t you think? Now, keep it up and get along in the future too, yes?

Victor’s warm eyes were fixed on us, and I felt a bit uneasy as he watched over us.

(I wonder if Jude get’s the same feeling…..)

With that thought I stole a glance at him…..

Jude: …Are ya stupid? There’s no way we’ll be gettin’ along.

Just as I thought, he rejected Victor’s words with a look of disgust.

But Jude’s words weren’t only filled with rejection.

Jude: She’ll be tormented, teased ‘n made t’cry by me for the rest of her life.

Victor: Indeed, indeed,……that’s love too!

(….I agree.)

I beamed with joy at the thought of receiving Jude’s expressions of love for the rest of my life.

(And Jude didn’t deny it when Victor said that we’re a “good match”….I’m glad.)

Jude: …..What’re ya smilin’ for?

Kate: Hehe, I’m just savoring this happiness.

Since we couldn’t walk around the castle while we were dirty, we waited at the entrance

Until a maid came and informed us that the bath was ready.

Kate: You can take a bath and freshen up first Jude.

Jude: Ya first. If a manky mud-caked woman were waitin’ ‘round, my tastes be’d questioned.

Although his way of speaking is harsh, Jude is probably just worried about me.

Kate: But you’re the star of the show today, so……?!

In the middle of refusing, Jude grabbed my arm dragged me towards the room.

Jude: Quit fussin’. Let’s go.

Resistance was futile as I was instantly stripped of my clothes, and tossed into the bathroom.

(Well, I’ll wash up quickly and then switch with Jude…..hm?)

Kate: …..Why’d you come in here Jude?

Jude: Thought I’d wash ya.

Jude poured hot water over me and then threw me into the bathtub that was already filled with hot water.

Kate: ….Phuwa!

Jude: Don’t come out ‘til ya count to 100.

With those words Jude took a sponge and lathered it up with soap.

(Jude’s going to wash me? I wonder what he’s up to…..)

Jude: …..Don’t look at me with that dumb look on yer face, ‘n get to countin’!

Kate: O-okay…..1…..2…..

Kate: ….100! Hey, I’m done counting Jude.

Jude: Then go sit there.

When I sat in the small chair that Jude pointed towards with his chin, he meticulously washed my back, arms and legs.

(Wow…..it’s feels so nice when someone else washes you….)

The slightly forceful scrubbing felt pleasant, and my as my eyes drifted absentmindedly, my body was covered in suds.

目を細めている means to squint one’s eyes or partially close them. I opted to adjust this.

Jude: Ain’t no stingin’.

Kate: Yep, I’m fine.

(Oh…I see. If I had any wounds from the fight earlier, the soap would indicate that.)

(Hm, maybe he was washing me to check for wounds hidden underneath my clothes?)

Kate: ..…Thank you, Jude.

Jude: Hah?

Kate: You were worried that I was hurt, weren’t you?

Jude: ……Yer right that I was checkin’, but I ain’t worried.

Jude: Yer a masochistic pervert who likes pain, aren’t ya?

Jude: It’d piss me off if some nameless git who I dunno hurt ya, ‘n ya got off on the injury.

(So, that’s why he checked for wounds beforehand…..?)

He doesn’t flat out say words such as “I love you” or “I like you”.

That’s why I get happy when he shows his jealousy so evidently.

Kate: Even if another person hurts me, it’s nothing more than an injury…

Kate: …..Since I only love the pain you give me, Jude.

Jude: ….Oh?

My words were probably a spark to Jude since a sadistic flame flickered in his eyes.

I instantly felt this instinctive fear, but it was too late to escape —

Before I could resist, Jude wrapped his arm around me from behind, locking me in place.

Google translates this line with: 'He grabbed me from behind,' and while that’s not entirely wrong, it doesn’t include 羽交い絞めにした, which literally means chokehold/full nelson. While Jude does do this in fights with his enemies, he’s not choking Kate in the fullest sense here as context reveals. However, there are several ways he can be holding her in place, so I chose to leave this line as generic as possible for your imagination while trying to note it's more than just grabbing her.

The bubbles on my back soaked through his shirt.

Kate: Jude, your clothes…..

Jude: Changin’’em later anyway, so don’t matter.

This time instead of a sponge Jude used his hand to caress my body.

His large hand gripped my breasts tightly and slowly massaged them.

Since it doesn’t specifically state if he is playing with one or both breasts, I imagine Jude has one arm wrapped around her upper torso/clavicular area while playing with them with his free hand. I opted to translate that he grabs both.

Kate: …….Mm.

When I looked down, I could see them being squeezed into different shapes, it was so dirty.

But if I looked away, then I’d solely be focused on the feeling of his slippery fingers due to the suds.

Jude: Ahh….they’re already so hard.

Because he’d grazed them so many times, my nipples were stiff.

Jude pinched the tips roughly, and flicked them with his fingers.

Kate: Mmm….!

Jude: ….If yer body’s this sensitive, then you’ll even get horny if someone ‘sides me touches ya, innit?

Kate: O-of course not. Jude you’re the only…..ah!

Jude: What’s that? Couldn’t hear ya. Care to repeat?

While I was speaking my breasts were stimulated again, causing my body to twitch with both sharp pain and pleasure.

With no where to escape, heat built in my lower abdomen, and the back of my head began to tingle.

Kate: You’re the only one….I feel….good with Jude.

While I managed to say something despite being choked up with sweet pain, I felt Jude faintly laugh from behind.

Jude: ….Fine then. I’ll believe ya for now.

After saying that, Jude released me from his arms and washed away the suds.

Then a towel was placed on top of my head and the water was briskly wiped away.

Kate: Uh? Umm….Jude

Jude: What?

Kate: What about the rest……

Although I was nearly peaked I didn’t finish off,

And it made my body ache for his touch even more.

Jude: Wait.

Kate: ….Wait?

Jude: Can’t hear me? Wait ‘til tonight.

Kate: B-but…..

Jude: Surely, ya can wait that long…..Even a puppy can do that.

Jude: ‘Sides……didn’t I tell ya to satisfy me today. Ya should just accept the torture.

(That, that….JUDE JAZZAAA!)

— Even though our feelings are mutual, and even though it’s his birthday celebration, his ruthlessness is as strong as ever.

[Story Master List] [Chapter 3] Dividers: @.natimiles @.cafekitsune

TL note: Sorry for all the lengthy footnotes on this one, it was quite tough to translate this one because it was hard to convey the phrases being used....like when Jude grabs Kate's tatas, it's described as an eagle's grips/tight/strong. So, trying to find the right words to convey the strength and pain was a bit of a struggle. Ick, not my best I feel.

Only Jude and Kate would be bickering over who helped who in a fight lmao.

Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @rosalyne08

If you wish to be added to my tags list then please comment below and specify which suitor or all translations!

[iwrite-sinsandtragedies]

Day 1 — Soulmates ₊˚✧ ﾟ

Submission for @goldengroovy's @olnfweek2024

MC: Micha

Long ass ramble under the cut 😂

Okayokayokay SO-

I love soulmate au's. I cannot tell you how many fics I've read or how many prompts I've played with or media I've consumed or how many bullshit ideas I've come up with in my own head for them, I CANNOT.

It's just - hhhhhhhhhhhh- Soulmate au's and Time Travel au's are just the shit that gets me out of bed some days 😩💖my world weary soul drinks that shit like medicine, okay?

That all being said, it's probably a little ambiguous which au I picked to some, so let me explain: There are two au's I'm mashing up here really, both are from fics I've read back in the day. One being a Clack fic and the other a Thilbo one 🤷‍♂️kind of calling myself out here but w/e, they were good fics.

The Thilbo one is easier to explain - the concept is "Heartsong" which is, literally what it says on the tin. You find out who your soulmate is the first time you hear them sing (and no, that does not mean everyone is just a naturally good singer - they can be ass at music but, the point is, when you hear them their song is the perfect song for you and your heart knows that). There's a lot of little nuances to this one - things like you hearing your heartsong when you dream so you always know the moment you find them. Also people who have quiet dreams because their heartsong died, sometimes before ever even meeting them. etc etc. The heartsong also seems to expand, in some respect, to instruments (as Thorin plays his harp one night and Bilbo starts to hum without thinking about it because it sounds wonderful to him and that's how Thorin finds out).

Overall, it's a very soft and sweet concept to me and as someone who has a deep love of music, it's also one of my very favourites.

The Clack one is a little less easy to explain? I think. Maybe because it's nuances are so round about but I'll do my best. The concept for this one is "I Only See Colour When I'm With You" - anyone who knows how Clack fics usually go knows where this is probably headed 😂 and I am sorry to have hurt you but, overall, the idea is: You live in a noir-esqu world where everything is black and white. This only changes when you find your soulmate, of course, who brings the world into full saturation and lets you see colour for - possibly - the first time in your life (I say possibly because I genuinely can't remember if you start out colourblind or if it's an age cap thing).

Unfortunately, for as much as I adore this concept, it's been a long damn time since I read the fic and I don't even know if it still exists somewhere. So I can't actually recall if it was a 'you have to touch them' or 'you have to hear them' thing but the fic takes place with Zack on the cliff right before Midgar where he holds Cloud and looks at the sky - so I'm willing to bet it's a touch thing.

I also really loved this fic because it was the first one I'd read that brought in the concept of multiple soulmates to me - As Cloud later sits with Aerith and sees the colour he couldn't see with Zack, meanwhile Aerith only sees black and white, because she was only able to see colour with Zack (who was never able to see colour with her, because he needed Cloud for that).

Essentially, they all needed each other to see the world in colour. As a polyam person who didn't quite realise I was poly back then, it was a very comforting (and now dearly cherished) fic.

Anyways! Now that you have the background on the two concepts, you can kind of get what I'm going for with this piece.

Tamarack, Micha and Qiu are all soulmates in a fuzzy, desaturated world (I'm sorry, I'm not cruel enough to but them in complete greyscale LOL) and the way you find your soulmate is by hearing them sing and, when they do, your world is suddenly vivid and bright and beautiful. Suddenly, you can see things as they were meant to be seen and it's a permanent change (unlike the Clack fic) but things are always clearest and brightest when your soulmate speaks or sings 💖

I get a real kick out of the idea that Micha's known for fucking months that Tamarack is his soulmate (if not years) because he's always listening to her play but never says jack shit about it because he's emotionally constipated that way 😂Though genuinely, it's probably because he just doesn't think he's her soulmate and he's a bit against finding out he's right honestly.

Joke is on him, he's Qiu's and Tamaracks soulmate! And he couldn't have picked a better moment to grow a pair an take the risk 🥰

[illiterateaffairs]

change of plans | stiles x reader

masterlist

pairing: established stiles stilinski x f!reader (best friend/witch)

word count: 1,133

warnings: reader doing makeup, fluff!!!!!

summary: set after the season 5 finale, you're starting to rethink stiles' master plan for after high school

author's note: hope everyone is enjoying the holiday season so far! this is intended to be a part of my 12 days of fics series which would mean i am trying to post everyday through christmas BUT i fear i will not be able to keep up with it due to work and family so don't hold me to it, but in a perf world i am going to share as much stiles and jamie fics as i can this holiday season!! pls let me know thoughts and feedback!!! <3

Despite you experiencing this at least half a dozen times, it will never stop making your brain explode that after defeating another mythological foe, you and your friends are expected to return to school, business as usual, as if nothing happened.

This time it was the Dread Doctors and the “Beast of Gevaudan”, not to mention Malia’s crazy mother, your own family drama, and something else you’re probably forgetting due to the exhaustion and trauma you have yet to process. 

The horrors persist and yet so do we. 

Even after sleepless nights solving mysteries and fighting battles, here you were doing your makeup before school. 

You’re constantly impressed with your ability to wake up and get yourself together. 

In the middle of finishing your eyeliner, you hear someone brush into your room. Spinning around, you give your boyfriend an amused look as he flops down on your bed nonchalantly.

“You’re lucky I was done otherwise you would have had to deal with the aftermath of me poking my eye out.”

Stiles chuckles glancing over at you with a tired smile, “I’d still love you with one eye.”

You roll your eyes affectionately, turning back to your vanity mirror, “How did you get in by the way? Jules already left for work.”

“I let myself in,” at your look through the mirror, he shrugs, “I know where you guys keep the key. Besides, this has been one of my second homes since we were kids, you shouldn’t be so surprised.”

You smile to yourself, staring off as you rifle through your makeup bag for lip gloss. 

You and Stiles had been officially dating for…six months now? Which was still very new, especially for a high school relationship. But you’d also been friends since kindergarten, and you’ve loved him nearly just as long. Despite the messy and humorous transition from friends to more, your relationship was so strong. Definitely stronger than most people your age, and you’d even bet stronger than those older. Surviving multiple near death experiences together sure bonds a couple.

But it wasn’t just that. At the end of the day, Stiles was still your best friend at the core. He knew every nuance, secret, flaw, and quirk you had. How to make you laugh, smile, and push your buttons. He can tell what you’re about to say and do before you do. And he cared about you so, so much. 

He’d been your safe space before you even admitted it to yourself. Your home. 

“Stiles?” You speak up again softly, putting the final touches on your lips. “You know that plan you have for after graduation? The one that ensures we all stick together?”

“Yeah?”

“What if I had a…tweak?”

Stiles sits up slowly in your bed, suddenly feeling anxious for what you were about to say. “A tweak?”

You nod, turning back around in your chair, leaning on the back of it. “Yeah. A tweak. An amendment, if you will.” 

“What, um, what were you thinking?” He asks softly, his voice hoarse with nerves. The whole sanctity of the plan was that you all were together. And while you hadn’t exactly had time to iron out all the details of where exactly everyone was officially going to college, he’d never considered you’d pick a place that was separate from him. Sure it was always a possibility you’d go to different colleges, even a likelihood, but even before you became a couple he couldn’t picture his future without you always just…there. 

“I was thinking about your proposed living situation,” you muse, starting to stand up from your chair, “Where you’re living with Scott, and I’m supposed to live with Lydia?”

“Yeah…” Stiles swallows thickly as you approach the bed and sink down next to him. 

“I was sort of thinking of doing something different.”

“And what would that be?”

You look down at where his hand is resting on his lap, and gently pick it up, playing with his fingers. You smile shyly, not looking back up at him quite yet. “I was thinking maybe the two of us could live together instead…”

Silence hangs over the room for a few moments. Then you finally glance up at him and he’s staring at you, his jaw slack. Your lip curves up in amusement.

“That is, unless, you’re really set on living with Scott?”

Stiles sputters and shakes his head rapidly, “No, no! I mean- of course I’d love living with Scott, he’s my best friend- next to you of course! But living with you? That would be…” he takes a deep breath, his voice softening, “A dream.”

You melt at his words and squeeze his hand, “Really? That doesn’t sound like a crazy, awful idea? By the time we go to college we’ll only have been dating around a year. And they say you shouldn’t make decisions at our age based on your high school relationship.”

Stiles shakes his head again and scoots closer to you, “We are not like other couples. Maybe because we’ve been through shit other couples haven’t or because we’re way too codependent, but screw what people say. It would work for us, I know it.”

Your smile grows again, and Stiles beams back, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

His smile softens and he gives you a shy look, “You really want to live with me though? You think you could deal with me on a more constant basis?”

“Stiles. You are my favorite person in the world. I’m more worried about what would happen if I wasn’t with you constantly.”

Grinning, Stiles gently tugs you closer to kiss you and then doesn’t waste anymore time before pulling you back to lay across the bed with him, making you laugh as he holds you in his arms and continues to kiss you, deeply and sloppily. 

You chuckle against his lips, holding yourself up with a hand to his chest, “You’re right, we are extremely codependent.”

Stiles smirks, “You love it.”

“I do. And I love you. So much.”

“I love you, too…future roomie.” 

This time you can’t fight the grin on your face and the urge to kiss him as you surge forward again, completely ignoring the fact that you two need to be at school in like ten minutes. You’re also spurred on by the idea you’ll get to do this all. the. time.  

“Your dad is going to hate this idea when he finds out,” you mumble against his lips after a few moments.

“Yeah,” Stiles huffs, “He’s going to tell you you’re making a god awful decision.”

You laugh loudly, before he rolls you over and continues kissing you, also enticed by the thoughts of laughing with you, kissing you, and growing with you for the foreseeable future.  

authors note: pls let me know what you think, comments/messages/reblogs are so appreciated <33