#Brave Beginners

[jonyislam]

CDO2:Dungeon Defense

You are now a Chief Dungeon Officer (CDO)!Your one and only mission is to keep your dungeon running as long as possible.Command the Demon King and deploy monsters to keep out the hordes of heroes! ㆍMore than 90 different monstersMonsters with unique attributes depending on their type, race, and role!Summon the appropriate monsters for the best synergy between their attributes! ㆍVarious items…

[hollistercrowley]

Old Harley Quinn wallpaper from back when I first started doing edits

[danmeiljie]

Advance Bravely For Beginners:

⛔First of all⛔

Unless you're okay with a lot of toxic elements to romantic relationships and questionably anatomically ambiguous sex, don't read the book.

Unless you're okay with abusive couples, don't pay too much attention to the two side CPs. They really don't matter to the main plot.

Yes there is a plot. It's not just about hot male models eyefucking each other for 30 episodes. Almost.

Read on for main character synposis: (minor spoilers for the first few episodes)

Xia Yao:

A young rich man who acts like a spoiled prince and who until relatively recently, was a bit of a playboy, dating lots of girls. Then one fateful day while masturbating to a live webcam girl, he gets a bit of a surprise when the girl reveals at the moment of climax that they are in fact male, with all the correct male body parts. This startles, and confuses Xia Yao, resulting in internalizing his attraction and revulsion. He ends up developing an aversion to women and especially their bare legs, and he stops pursuing them.

He enjoys hanging out with his friends, and working at His Job at the Workplace (which may or may not be law enforcement related), and boxing. He thinks he's quite the good boxer after winning a competition against a lecherous American man.

Yuan Ru:

A pretty, modelesque young woman who is always on the hunt for a new boyfriend. Because her older brother is very protective, she knows she will need his approval before dating anyone. When Xia Yao refuses her repeated advances, she begs Yuan Zong to approach him for her, acting the role of the good future brother in law. She is a bit superficial and silly, often missing the obvious.

Yuan Zong:

A handsome, 30 something year old man who is an ex-special forces soldier who started his own bodyguard training company after their parents passed away, leaving him to take care of Yuan Ru alone. He has never dated anyone before, intent on saving himself for the right man. When he accepts his sister's plea to approach Xia Yao, he is instantly smitten and begins to pursue him for himself, without necessarily letting Yuan Ru know. He allows her to believe all the time he spends with Xia Yao is to check him out as a future brother in law. But he has fallen for the boy. His quiet, persistent attempts to woo him bring the two men closer together.

The Plot:

Advance Bravely explores (within the main CP that is) the journey Yuan Zong and Xia Yao take to discover their mutual attraction, navigating their homoerotic feelings for each other in a society that isn't wholly accepting of m/m relationships. Between bouts of jealousy and persistent women, will the two of them find a way to be together? Will Yuan Zong get to indulge his inner domestic husband? Will Xia Yao come to terms with his homosexuality? Will the other two couples just stop?

Watch and Find out on DRAMACOOL, where you can see the uncensored show.

Enjoy!

[sodrippy]

do so hate that being a beginner anything in your late twenties is such a deeply embarassing crushing experience. and yet. we must begin.

[thepurpleandgold]

touch up at mizen head

county cork, ireland.

[a-journey-to-true-self]

3 Reasons Women Should do Charity

The Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) once addressed a group of women and encouraged them to give charity. He said that he had seen that most of the people in Hell were women. The women asked why this was so. Why Women Should Be Mindful Women often curse and are ungrateful to their husbands. Women can be led astray easily. Women have some deficiencies in their intelligence and religion. What Are These…

[loveaurapearl]

Beginners Guide to Yuusha/Brave Franchise & Tier List 1990 - 1999. Fun video that shows the wonder of the brave series like J-Decker and Goldran. Go watch the shows.

[chridys-space]

So there's this lady called Jan at the BSL club that started up yesterday and she's, as a friend put it, a real live wire. She had her 77th birthday last week, and in two weeks she's going to Wales to ride a zip line that goes for like a mile at 500 feet above the ground, reaching up to 100 mph. She's doing it in memory of her husband and to raise money for a charity that helps stroke victims and their families.

I love Jan, she's so fun

[itmightneverbetherighttime]

i really do live for nostalgia, huh?

[twistyfish]

prompt~ non-mc reader feeling sad because she feels she lacks the relationship mc has with the lads. requested by anon!

Zayne

Her long, straight brown hair fell in front of her face, and she tucked it behind her ear with slender fingers. Her laughter filled your ears like sticky molasses, and you couldn’t wash it out no matter how hard you tried.

In front of her kneeled Zayne, wiping a cut on her knee with a wet tissue and bandaging it, kissing it gently. You watched as he chided her for being careless and getting hurt.

You wished he would scold you like that.

They stood up and walked away, his arm subtly resting around her waist to support her.

She rested her head against his shoulder. She was so brave. She got injured often because of her profession.

You were an accountant. Your last injury was a paper cut.

The wind blew her hair into Zayne’s face, and you watched him brush it away and arrange it neatly on her shoulders with a smile.

They walked away into the distance, and all you could do was watch.

Sylus

“Can you get my back?” Sylus asked, holding out the bottle of sunscreen to MC.

She nodded and began working the cream into his back, massaging his shoulder blades as she went.

Sylus smiled as she used her strength to massage him. “Nice arm, kitten.”

You sat next to your sandcastle, patting the wet globs of sand together into rough turrets. It was coming together, sort of.

Sylus crouched down next to you. “How’s the castle coming along?”

“It’s getting there.”

“Do you want to come surf with us?”

You hesitated. Truthfully, you weren’t very adventurous. You were a little nervous to ride the waves.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” MC smiled at you, her surfboard held under her muscular arm.

“Um, no, I’m okay,” you responded shyly.

“Alright. Have fun building, then.” She waved at you and they both turned, running into the waves. MC squealed as the cool water hit her legs, and Sylus laughed his deep, rich laugh. He splashed her, grinning as she made various high pitched noises in response.

You sat with your sandcastle, smoothing the sides with no zeal at all. Your focus was gone. All you could think about were her hands on his back, his grin as he splashed her, their shared laughter as they ran into the water.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Sylus shouting. “Hey! Come in, it’s nice and cool.”

You shook your head.

Rafayel

“Wow, your drawings are ass,” Rafayel remarked.

“Shut up, loser.”

“Look at __’s drawing. It has such a nice composition.”

You felt pride swell in your chest at his compliment. “Thanks, Raf.”

“Of course, cutie. I’m just telling it as it is. Ms. Bodyguard could learn a thing or two from you.”

“I don’t understand how you can get everything so proportional,” MC grumbled.

“Here, let me show you.” He stood up and positioned himself behind her, taking her hand with the pencil in it and mapping out rough lines.

“Just make the general shapes first,” he murmured, hand guiding hers across the paper.

You looked away, trying to focus on your own drawing. You could hear him softly instructing her, and you sort of wished you were a beginner too in that moment.

You mindlessly sketched, and you ended up with a lazy looking cat.

“Oh, is it sad?” Rafayel asked peering over your shoulder.

“No, it’s sleepy.”

“Sleepy all the time, just like you,” he said playfully to MC, elbowing her.

“I’m not sleepy all the time! You’re thinking of Xavier,” she argued back. They continued to bicker as you watched.

Maybe it was a little sad.

Xavier

You rang the bell out of politeness despite knowing Xavier’s door code. You had made some banana muffins, and you wanted him to try them. When there was no answer, you figured you would just go inside and drop them off in the kitchen.

You entered the door code and walked inside quietly. As you passed through the living room, you had to stifle a gasp. Xavier and MC were laying together on the couch, under the blanket.

You immediately looked away, setting the muffins on the counter and moving to tiptoe out of the room. Unfortunately, the rustling woke them up.

“__? Is that you?” Came Xavier’s groggy voice.

“No- yes! Um, I just came in to drop off some muffins. I’m leaving, don’t worry!”

Xavier sat up, the blanket falling off his shoulders and pooling around his bare chest.

Your eyes widened and you turned around.

“Hey, __. Where are you going?” MC was off the couch (wearing clothes, thankfully) walking towards you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. We just got back from training and crashed. We were both exhausted,” Xavier said.

Oh. They were sleeping.

“Sorry for waking you guys.”

“Don’t worry about it. Want to nap with us?”

You paused. “I’m good, don’t worry. I’ll just be going now.” With that, you awkwardly put your shoes back on and left the house. The image of them snuggling under the blanket was cemented to your brain.

That night, you slept hugging a pillow.

[chrollogy]

SUNSET DREAMS ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

kageyama tobio x afab!reader

╰┈➤ part of house of solis occasum’s summer fic exchange for @mcdonaldsnumberone !

synopsis: The tall, raven-haired surf instructor catches your attention during a private surfing lesson with your friends but due to circumstances, there was no space for small talk. Later that afternoon, you cross paths once again at a beach club—a sign from the universe to grab the opportunity, and get to know him better. This quickly leads to a turn of events where you both end up naked in bed, and eager to explore each other’s bodies but there’s just one thing though, he’s a virgin.

content warning: beach au, surf instructor!/surfer!kageyama, poor depiction of surfing, bartender!hinata cameo, alcohol use, awkward flirting, i am making kags PATHETIC, summer fling/beach romance, nsfw, smut (mdni), virgin!kageyama, bottom!kageyama, top!reader, virginity loss (m), porn without plot, handjob, cum eating, unprotected s*x, creampie, multiple orgasms (m), not beta read.

word count: 6.3k

notes: eeeeep it’s my first time writing for mr tobio but i absolutely had fun !! i hope you enjoy mac :3 divider: cafekitsune.

The scorching sun amongst the cerulean skies kissed your warm skin, the scent of salt, and sea lingered in the air as a summer breeze blew by; sounds of heavy waves from the crystalline water, and distant chatters from avid beach goers filled your senses. It was hot, and humid with no ivory clouds in sight—the perfect formula for a quick summer getaway. The beach buzzed with liveliness; colourful hues of towels, and essentials laid upon the white sand, kids with plastic buckets, and shovels eagerly building sand castles, surfers chasing the endless azure waves beneath the blazing sun.

Just the sight of swells had your heart thumping with adrenaline rush, a vivid imagery of yourself attempting to ride the waves formulated in your mind. You’ve never tried surfing before but today was the perfect time to do so—a completely out of the blue suggestion by one of your friends, not that you were complaining. It was always nice to try new things, anyway.

“How do I look? Did I put on too much sunscreen?”

A saccharine voice to your left reeled you back to reality; looking over at the owner of the voice, an emerald gaze stared right back, her eyes sparkling beneath the searing rays of the sun. Scanning your friend’s face for any white cast from the sunscreen, you shook your head, and smiled, “You look fine, Alisa.” Taking your word for it, she mirrored your smile before placing her sunnies over her eyes. You, and three friends were clad in a rental jet black skin tight wetsuit provided by the surf school, preparing for today’s private beginner lesson.

You weren’t going to lie, the thought of braving the waves made your heart pound from nervousness, and excitement but seeing as you were going to experience this foreign activity with your friends—who also haven’t tried it before—it put you at ease; you just hoped the instructor was could somewhat save you if you happen to fall off the surfboard, and onto the warm waters beneath.

Speaking of the instructor, Hitoka spoke up, a subtle devious smile on her face as she worked her hands on her flaxen strands, deftly tying it up in a low ponytail, “I bet our instructor is hot.” This earned silent chuckles from the rest of you, shaking your heads at the blonde who just shrugged in response. “Laugh at me all you want now but if I’m right, you owe me a free drink at the beach club later.”

Playfully rolling your eyes at her newfound determination, you waved a dismissive hand at your friend, mirroring her smile,

“Sure, whatever helps you—”

“I’m so sorry for the wait, everyone! I’ll be your surfing instructor for today.” A dulcet voice cut your sentence short, it belonged to a tall man clad in a wetsuit—he looked to be around your age. Blinking twice up at him, your eyes raked his physique up, and down before taking in his handsome beauty—cropped raven hair that framed his face, and the sharp gaze of his dark blue eyes were the cherry on top; a blend of an innocent yet sultry appeal. He emanated a subtle intimidating aura, especially paired with his looming height but his voice was as soft as the first rays of the early morning, something you could get used to hearing everyday.

You were already considering buying Hitoka that free drink because god was he fucking hot—the skin tight surf suit did not leave much to one’s imagination with the way it hugged his lean build; dips, and curves of his muscles accentuated by the waterproof fabric. It was beyond shameless to ogle your instructor because you’ve completely missed his name, instead, your eyes were focused on the way his muscular legs shifted as he leaned his weight from one bare foot to another.

Next thing you knew, his sharp gaze was on you, an expectant look on his handsome face. Snapping out of your trance, you hesitantly looked to the side—at your friends—clearly unaware of what was going on, ‘Your name. He’s asking for your name.’ Kiyoko mouthed. Letting out a sound of realisation, you smiled up at the instructor, and introduced yourself, ignoring the sudden warmth that crept up the column of your neck, and to your cheeks.

After brief introductions were out of the way, the five of you headed down to the beach—surfboards securely tucked beneath an arm—to start off today’s lesson. Hitoka fell into a step next to you, hissing at the white scorching sand beneath her bare feet, angling your face over to her, you spoke up, “Hey, what was our instructor’s name again? I didn’t catch it earlier.” She looked at you, that devious smile back in its place, brows furrowed, free hand shielding her sweaty face from the blinding sun, “Why? Too busy ogling his hotness?”

Yes. But you weren’t going to tell her that—god, no, she’d never live it down because she was right.

You mustered your best uninterested expression, however, the corners of your lips were itching to curl upwards at her blatant teasing, clearly hitting the nail on the head. Hitoka briefly returned the same deadpan expression, narrowing her chestnut eyes at you before letting out a sigh of defeat, “Kageyama Tobio. Full name, even.” She snickered before going on to complain about the hot sand, and the equally hot summer weather.

“Kageyama Tobio.” You muttered underneath your breath, satisfied at how it easily rolled off your tongue—little did you know, you were going to be moaning it out like a shameless common whore hours later, as though it was made for your tongue only.

As the group neared the deserted azure waters, the scent of salt grew stronger; the sound of small waves crashing on the shoreline filled your ears as you came to a halt just a few ways from the water. Kageyama started the lesson by skilfully explaining the safety guidelines, surfing etiquette, and basic techniques; you tried your best to listen in on the briefing since this was a crucial part of the lesson but his dulcet voice slowly faded along with distant noises from the background as you stared up at his face.

Your eyes gently traced over every dip, and curve of Kageyama’s features, lips parted in slight awe, completely lost in his serene beauty as the late morning sun casted a warm glow upon his skin. This has never happened before—sure, you’ve stumbled upon other jaw-dropping faces in the past that had your heart skipping a beat or two but this was different, you were shamelessly drawn to him; as though you were a moon affected by gravitational attraction, falling into an orbit around a planet named Kageyama Tobio. Though, you mostly chalked up your absentmindedness to nerves taking root deep beneath your skin, as each minute grew closer to hitting the swells of the vast ocean.

After getting thoroughly briefed through safety measures, and basic techniques—such as paddling, popping up, and maintaining balance—the next part of the lesson was getting into the water. Despite your heart pounding with nervousness, paddling wasn’t too bad, the coolness of the wavy waters calmed your nerves a tad bit—a daring contrast from the scorching sun directly above your head.

Fortunately for you, Kageyama was amazing at his job—even though the group practised on shallow waters with small waves, getting the hang of popping up, and maintaining balance on the board was tricky, and he was there to ensure an easy experience for you. The feeling of Kageyama’s firm grip around the back of your thigh had your heart hammering as he supported your weight, gently guiding you to stand up on the board,

“Good! You’re a natural. Remember to keep your knees bent—that’s it.” His praise went straight to your legs, knees slightly buckling; it absolutely caught you off guard, almost losing balance but luckily, you didn��t let up, and tried your best to navigate through the small wave.

The lesson carried on for another hour—it went smoothly despite unceremoniously falling into the water a couple of times with your friends but this earned you several words of encouragement from your instructor which definitely did not have you pressing your legs together; god, you just hoped Kageyama didn’t notice with the amount of times you’ve done it throughout the span of the lesson—you’d rather willingly drink the salty sea water instead.

It was already late afternoon, and the summer sun was beginning to set; blue skies turned into hues of cotton candy pink, and pastel orange which casted a vibrant warm glow over the beach, as though it was a scene from a movie. The group leisurely walked along the stretch of the beach, heading for the beach club mentioned earlier. The three indulged themselves in a mellow conversation, raving about their newfound surfing skills, your mind, on the other hand, wandered elsewhere.

Gaze locked on the warm sand beneath as moments from the lesson vividly replayed in your head; you could still feel the warmth of Kageyama’s palm against your clothed skin, the way his fingers ever so slightly dug into your body whenever you wobbled a little.

As if the universe somewhat knew the truth of your mind, Hitoka exclaimed, “Hey! Isn’t that our instructor from earlier?” At the mention of him, your head shot up, eyes following the direction of her pointed finger; as your gaze shifted all the way to the sparkling waters, you recognized Kageyama’s familiar physique.

There he was in his own world, propped up on his surfboard, deftly riding the afternoon waves. As expected from a pro surfer, Kageyama’s body moved with such accuracy, and intricateness as though he was the one controlling the water—clad only in black board shorts, he looked absolutely divine beneath the sunset skies, the golden glow of the sun bouncing off his bare torso.

“He was a little too intense for me, if I’m being honest.” Alisa momentarily stared at him before shifting her gaze. “Really? He seemed fine to me. Just a little stiff.” Kiyoko responded, brows subtly furrowed as though she was in deep thought; this earned a hum of agreement from Hitoka before rambling on about how intense Kageyama’s gaze was.

Hm, you must be the odd one out because in your eyes, his personality was warm, albeit, a little awkward, and blunt but despite that, it was manageable—hell, you even enjoyed his praises no matter how flat or awkward his tone was.

The conversation carried over to the beach club located along a tranquil coastline; greeted with a mix of elegance, and topical accents, you scanned the place in awe—wooden cabanas draped with ivory curtains, and outdoor sunbeds lined the white sands which overlooked the still, azure waters. Apart from the ocean itself, the pool was also an option to swim in, offering a mini bar that you had your eyes set on.

Kiyoko, and Alisa decided to explore other amenities of the club whereas Hitoka opted to lounge at a sunbed, wanting to catch a glimpse of the sun setting behind the horizon, and as for you, your feet were already taking you to the mini bar situated by the pool. After that lengthy, exhausting lesson, all you needed right now was a little alcohol to wash down thoughts about a certain surfer that plagued your mind.

Tropical beats spilled from the speakers, creating a lively atmosphere for its patrons to enjoy; luckily, the poolside wasn’t too congested, and you were able to secure a vacant stool. Opting for the farthest corner in the outdoor bar, your eyes thoroughly scanned the miniature, azure pamphlet on the counter which contained a curated list of cocktails, and other beverages to indulge oneself in.

“If you’re having trouble choosing a drink, I highly suggest our signature cocktail ‘Sunset Dreams’! I can turn it into a mocktail if you’re not interested in alcohol.”

Looking up from the menu, and at the owner of the buoyant voice from behind the counter, you were greeted with a radiant smile that reached his eyes as though he was the epitome of sunshine; his spiky, orange hair that mirrored hues of the sky were not easy to miss, standing out against the neutral colours of his clothes—a beige linen button up shirt that had a few buttons loose, paired with ivory shorts.

The man held a metallic cocktail shaker, vigorously shaking it above his shoulder with both hands a few times before pouring its contents into a chilled highball glass, and sliding it over to a customer just a few seats down.

“So! What would it be for you?” He tapped the counter, returning in front of you before slightly leaning forward; he had an expectant look in his doe, chestnut brown eyes—a look which one, including yourself, couldn’t help but adore. You caught a glimpse of a small, golden nametag glimmering against the beige of his shirt—bold, ivory letters read ‘SHOYO’.

You contemplated his suggestion for a moment, “Okay. I think I’ll try the signature cocktail.” This earned a gleeful expression from the bartender, eagerly nodding at your choice of drink, “Good, good! You’re gonna love it! I’m Shoyo, your bartender for the night. If you need anything, just call out my name, and I’ll be there!” He pointed a finger at his name tag before working on the signature cocktail.

Smiling to yourself, you felt at ease being serviced by such a lively individual; Shoyo cheerfully greeted, and bid customers goodbye every now, and then—you subtly watched him do his job though he was part of a live entertainment.

A few minutes later, Shoyo sets a pretty, gradient cocktail before you, “One Sunset Dreams for you. Enjoy! Call me over if there’s anything you need!” Giving the bartender a warm thanks, you admired the beverage, it imitated colours of the sunset—a vibrant hue of red sitting on the base which gradually faded into a light cotton candy pink topped with two cherries on a swizzle stick, and a straw.

You didn’t hesitate to pull your phone out, and quickly snap a few photos to send to the group chat, instantly earning a thread of replies from Hitoka gushing about how amazing it looked. Before you could properly take a sip of your cocktail, Shoyo’s radiant voice filled your ears as he greeted an oncoming customer,

“Heeey, Kageyama! I haven’t seen you all week!”

At the mention of the surfer’s name, your ears unabashedly perk up. Sure, there were probably thousands—if not hundreds—of other Kageyamas out there but you only knew one person with that name, and he happened to be standing just two seats away from where you sat. His raven strands were damp, glistening beneath the golden sunset rays; he donned a plain white tee, and blue boardshorts which had no business making your heart pound like crazy.

The chances of meeting Kageyama here weren’t exactly slim given his job but you didn’t entirely expect to meet him here, let alone make friends with the beach club’s lively bartender—you didn’t make him out to be a person to regularly attend places like this.

As if he sensed your curious gaze, Kageyama looked to the side, navy blue eyes meeting your own. You waved—you fucking waved at him like he was an old friend who was here to meet with you; embarrassment gnawed at your skin, warmth creeping up from the sides neck of your neck, and onto your cheeks, resembling small, sharp kisses.

To your surprise, Kageyama dipped his chin in return before sauntering over to the vacant seat beside yours. “You two know each other?” Shoyo mused, brown eyes shifting between you, and Kageyama. The latter bluntly shook his head before pointing a thumb at you, “Had them for a beginner’s class earlier today.” You nodded at Kageyama’s reply.

“Also, just the usual mocktail for me.” The taller male added, taking a seat next to you, completely catching you off guard—you didn’t expect him to actually sit next to you but hey, maybe this was the universe’s sign to get to know the man better; how? You were about to find out for yourself. Shoyo returned a bright response, saluting at his friend before getting to work.

Despite the lively atmosphere of the poolside with distant chatters, and soft beats playing on the speakers, the air between you, and Kageyama turned awkward pretty quickly. Talk to him. Talk to him. Talk to him, your mind screamed but all you could do at the moment was take a long sip of your cocktail—maybe getting a bit of liquid courage would help you in this dire situation, after all, as they said, a little goes a long way.

Awkwardly clearing your throat, you spoke up, “So . . What made you interested in surfing?” Good. This was a good conversation starter; you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for quickly coming up with a question before the atmosphere got too silent, and uncomfortable to talk in. Kageyama met your eyes, cool gaze bringing an icy shiver down your spine; his dulcet voice engulfed your ears as he explained about his love for the sport.

Surprisingly, he had a whole lot to say about surfing—not that you were complaining, you listened to every word that slipped past his lips. You keenly watched how his relaxed expression gradually turned into something more passionate the more he talked about his job—eyes gleaming with pure enthusiasm, and the corners of his lips subtly curling upwards, it was adorable.

“Sorry. Did I bore you? I kind of went on a tangent there.” Kageyama sheepishly scratched his nape. “No, not at all! It was interesting to hear about it, really . . I think you’re really cute.”

Oh god.

Oh my fucking god. That wasn’t supposed to slip out.

Now would be a really good time for the ground to swallow you whole. Though, the only thing swallowing you whole was embarrassment, and to make matters worse, Kageyama wordlessly blinked at you with the most blank expression known to man—you were unsure whether it didn’t phase him at all or he just decided to ignore your blatant flirting altogether. Whatever the reason was, you were better off not knowing.

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as soon as the sentence slipped out. Though, in Kageyama’s defence, he didn’t know whether you were flirting with him or plainly just complimenting him—sure, he also found you cute but would it be weird if he said it back, and you just meant yours as a compliment, nothing more?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Kageyama was overthinking this whole conversation a little too much, he needed to give a response before it becomes unbearably awkward—

“Oh—um, thanks . . I think you’re cute too.” He practically mumbled the last part of his sentence but whatever, he wasn’t going to repeat it again, not when his cheeks turned awfully warm, and his heart skipped a beat or two. Kageyama tried his best to break eye contact but god he just couldn’t; he found your eyes beautiful, the way they shone beneath the warm glow of the sunset.

Maybe you were just being extremely delusional but did you hear Kageyama’s words correctly? He thinks you’re cute as well? Nonetheless, it gave you a boost of confidence, an invitation to shoot your shot, and see wherever it takes you. The raven-haired man subtly squirmed in his seat, deep blue eyes boring into your own; a small blanket of pink coating his cheeks

Was it just him or it felt really, really hot today? Even though the sun had dipped into the horizon, Kageyama felt like he was right beneath its scorching rays—all of a sudden his body felt uncomfortably hot, he felt sharp prickles kissing down his neck, and onto his chest. Kageyama had never felt this hot, and bothered under someone’s presence before—not to mention the growing sensation deep in his core. He felt pathetic, really, being all turned on from just a little flirting; if your words affected him this much, Kageyama wondered how he’d act underneath your touch.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Not the appropriate thought to think about right now.

He mentally cursed his mind for wandering to such impure thoughts rather too quickly because clearly it did nothing but further fuel the shameful feeling growing inside him—carnal desire. Oh, this was absolutely embarrassing on his end, it hasn’t even been at least ten minutes in your presence, and yet he’s getting needier by the minute.

Earlier, Kageyama was lucky enough that he was engrossed in the lesson, and therefore wasn’t too distracted by your presence—all he got was a pounding heart whenever he held your clothed body but that was just about it. Plus, Kageyama wasn’t one to muck around during his job since the safety of the class depended on him, he couldn’t afford some petty distraction, even if it meant pushing down his innocent feelings.

Though, Kageyama wondered if the feelings he had right now could be even called innocent.

As the raven-haired male squirmed in his seat once again, you caught a glimpse of the growing hardness between his thighs, the thin fabric of his shorts did so little to hide the tent at the apex of his legs—you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit to squeezing your legs at the sight.

It was barely above a whisper but Kageyama heard it just fine, a faint ‘I can help you with that.’

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but truthfully, you haven’t even finished your glass of cocktail, and it wasn’t even enough to get you tipsy—the next thing you knew, your thoughts swiftly flew out of your mouth before being able to stop yourself.

He gulped, nails digging into his palms at the erotic sight he just envisioned in his mind. Oh, god. Was this really happening right now? Did you just offer to help him with his growing erection? Kageyama’s throat felt dry. Where the fuck was Hinata with the drink he ordered? Why was he taking so long to make it? The whole situation felt surreal—a wet dream—too good to be true; he felt dizzy, and it didn’t stop there when he responded equally quietly.

If Kageyama was being honest, he didn’t hear his own words over the buzzing of his ear, and the thumping of his heart—all he knew was that it must’ve been a damn good response with your eyes widening, and lips curling up into a seductive smile, one that had his cock throbbing beneath his shorts.

It was all a daze from there, the rush of pure desire coursing through his veins, the spinning of his head; Kageyama vaguely remembered Hinata calling out to the both of you, assuming his mocktail was ready for him but he didn’t bat an eye, a mere beverage would simply do nothing to satiate the thirst he harboured—Kageyama needed you, only you could quench this growing ache between his legs.

Kageyama’s feet felt light against the pavement beneath, his flip flops scraping against it with every uncomfortable step taken. Hues of the fading sunset engulfed his mind, pretty pinks, and oranges slowly turned deep blue as you walked back to your accommodation—it was only a five-minute walk but god it felt like an eternity.

Your lips were on his as soon as the door to your room slammed shut, you swore the walls shook from impact but whatever, it was none of your concern. Kageyama’s lean arms caged you as your back hit the soft mattress beneath, fingers digging into the sheets at the dizzying kiss; no one has kissed him with this much drive, and passion before, the way your soft lips eagerly moved against his own, guiding him with each searing kiss.

Soft moans, and grunts slipped from Kageyama’s throat in between kisses, the sheer intensity from it was enough to make him cum untouched right then, and there; he could practically feel his body vibrating with lust—fuck, he couldn’t even think properly with the way your hands caressed his body up, and down, up, and down before sliding them under his ivory shirt, and gently clawing at his bare skin.

Heaven. Absolute heaven.

Kageyama moaned into your mouth at the feeling of your nails scraping his sensitive skin, trails of goosebumps forming beneath your sinful touch. And as he opened his eyes to meet your gaze, tears quickly pooled around them—from what? Kageyama didn’t know. Maybe it was from sexual frustration, maybe it was from the heavenly feeling of your nails, or maybe it was how each blissful emotion hit him like a truck, and took the air out of his lungs.

Momentarily pulling away from the kiss, Kageyama breathed out a string of incoherent words, a look of uncertainty crossing his crimson-painted face. “What—what was that?” You let out soft pants, dropping your head on the pillow beneath as you cupped his warm cheeks,

“I’m—I haven’t done this before . . I’m a virgin.”

You blinked up at him.

There was a slight pause—a heartbeat—as Kageyama’s confession lingered in the thick, warm air of the room; sweat already lined his forehead, raven strands sticking to his skin. “I’m sorry—Are you turned off?” He quickly peeled himself from your body, a rush of faint coolness momentarily engulfing you from his lack of presence. Kageyama sat on his knees, a bashful look painted on his face.

Quickly sitting up to cup his face, you shook your head, “No, no! Not at all . . Did you want us to stop? I don’t mind at all.” Now, it was Kageyama’s turn to vigorously shake his head, “No. I—I want to do it with you.” He breathed out, eyes glazed with pure lust.

You clenched your cunt at his words—just the thought of taking someone’s virginity, let alone Kageyama’s it felt like a whole lot of expectation had been placed on your shoulders but you weren’t backing down now, not at all, you were going to give him the most earth-shattering first time with how much trust he gave you.

“Take off your clothes, and lie on the bed.” As though time was of the essence, Kageyama hastily stripped his top off, shamelessly flinging it somewhere in the room. Your eyes keenly watched as his thumbs dipped beneath the waistband of his raven shorts, slowly dragging it down the length of his long legs ‘til it pooled around his ankles.

Kageyama wordlessly looked up at you, the fabric of his underwear still on him, cock painfully straining against it with a noticeable wet spot. “All of your clothes.” You added. The male’s cheeks warmed before shyly slipping it off, hard cock bouncing against the tufts of raven hair on his stomach, it shamelessly leaked of pre-cum, beads of pearlescent liquid sat prettily on his red tip.

“Good. Now, on the bed.” An icy shiver ran up his spine at the purr of your voice, velvety, and low as you pat the empty space next to you. As Kageyama situated himself on the bed, his bare back flush against the wooden headboard, he watched as you stood at the foot of the bed, hands slowly coming up to strip yourself.

What a tease.

Kageyama watched with eager eyes as each article of clothing slipped off your skin, Adam’s apple bobbing with each noticeable gulp—fuck, you looked divine; his hands ached to pleasure himself, fuck his cock on his fist as he watched you deftly unclasp your bra. Cursing beneath his breath, his gaze traced over your naked chest, eyes circling over your pert nipples, and down the valley of it. He was practically drooling at this point, rosy lips parted in complete awe at your raw beauty.

Oh, how he wanted to touch you so bad, roam his large hands all over your body, and squeeze, and rub at parts he’s never held before. Kageyama’s mind went absolutely wild, he wondered what your moans would sound like under his touch; would you enjoy his fingers on your sensitive clit? Moan his name out into oblivion? Cum on his hand?

You crawled up the mattress, situating yourself between his parted legs, just before his hard cock. Kageyama waited for your next move with a bated breath, toned chest heaving up, and down with anticipation, his hands gripping the ivory sheets beneath.

Deep, blue eyes widened as you curled over yourself, coming face to face with his dick; oh, you just knew that length would absolutely do wonders inside you. Kageyama bit his lip, stiffening underneath your touch as you circled a hand around his cock, languidly dragging it up to his tip to spread pre-cum down his shaft. Kageyama melted like putty at the first stroke, his head unceremoniously resting on the wall behind as pleasure consumed his body at the speed of lightning— he could already feel the building pressure in the pit of his stomach.

“Ah!—Fuck. T-that feels so, so good.” Kageyama moaned to the ceiling, his voice was airy, and light, a clear sign of pure bliss completely taking over his sanity. He’s never been touched by anyone before so this was a foreign experience for him; it felt different from when he pleasured himself with his own hands—your touch drove Kageyama to madness, and he was absolutely addicted to it.

Satisfied with his reaction, you picked up the pace, and brought another hand down to gently massage his balls which earned a loud whine of your name. Oh, fuck. Kageyama was floating on cloud nine, and this was only pleasure from your hands, what more if it was your wet cunt? Would he even last sheathed deep in your velvety walls? He doubted it. 

As the pace picked up, Kageyama’s moans also grew in volume, his stomach clenched, and unclenched at the sheer pleasure that consumed his whole body, all because of your hands. “Fuck! Fuck! Fu—I’m cumming!” The raven-haired male let out a wanton moan, eyes closed shut, knuckles white, and muscles taut as the knot inside his stomach finally snapped. Pure bliss rocked through Kageyama’s body like never before, as though he was engulfed in a million pleasurable kisses.

White, hot ribbons of cum shamelessly spurted from his cock which coated your fingers, and wrist. Kageyama slumped against the headboard, all fucked out, and covered by a light sheen of sweat; his lips were parted as he desperately chased oxygen, 

“Want you—I need you. Please . .” Kageyama panted, his lustful gaze locked onto your own; even though he just orgasmed, his cock was still rock hard. How needy. His breath hitched at the lewd sight before him as you languidly licked a long stripe up your wrist, gathering his cum on the tip of your tongue, and eagerly swallowing his essence down. It was like Kageyama’s brain short circuited—he’s only ever seen this sight on his laptop screen during sleepless nights, never did he think he’d see his own cum licked, and swallowed from one’s hand.

Was it possible to faint from such a sinful sight? 

Sitting up, you inched closer to Kageyama’s lap, thighs on either side of his slim waist, and clothed cunt hovering his cockhead. With keen eyes, the raven-haired watched as you deftly pushed your panties aside, catching a glimpse of your glistening cunt. He licked his lips as though he was a predator silently stalking his prey, waiting to pounce. Kageyama wondered what you’d taste like on his tongue, your sweet slick smeared all over his mouth, and chin—he could only fantasise. 

The violent thrumming of his heart filled his ears as he watched you shift your weight over his lap; this was really happening—Kageyama was about to lose his virginity. He felt a rush of every single emotion from A to Z, all things good but mixed with a bit of nervousness; what if he couldn’t satisfy you enough? What if he accidentally cummed way too soon? What if—

“Ohhhhh—fuck! Ngh—ah!” Kageyama violently threw his head back against the wall, fists gripping the sheets below as you slowly inched down his red tip. Oh god. Oh god. You hugged him so, so tightly, your cunt felt hot, and wet around him but in a good kind of way; he let out short breaths, his chest quickly heaving up, and down as he tried his best to ground himself. It was like his sanity snapped in a split second as soon as you made raw contact with his dick—this feeling was beyond cloud nine, as though he was one with the cosmos. 

You bit your lip at his pornographic sounds, letting out low whimpers as Kageyama’s cock desperately twitched inside you. With your hands gripping his bare shoulders, you slowly inched down his cock, grounding yourself as the head kissed intimate parts of you that no one has ever reached. A unison of heavy pants filled the thick air after bottoming out; you momentarily stilled, giving yourself ample time to get used to Kageyama’s length because fuck it drove you absolutely insane.

“P-please move. Need more, please . .” He whined, desperately moving his hips beneath your weight, causing his tip to momentarily brush against your g-spot ever so slightly. Moaning at the contact, a string of colourful curses slipped past your lips, toes curling at the sudden wave of pleasure.

Without wasting any more time, you lifted your hips all the way up to his tip before slamming back down, earning muttered curses of your name from Kageyama. His hands immediately flew to your hips as a way to ground himself, as though holding onto anything else would immediately deprive him of this heavenly bliss.

Soft, wet squelches bounced off the walls with every languid roll of your hips, Kageyama couldn’t peel his eyes away from where to two of you connected—it was wet, and slippery, glistening from all your arousal; everything felt so sinful that it made his head spin, not the mention the bounce of your breasts with each movement of your hips. Every moan that slipped past your lips went straight to Kageyama’s cock, he was the one making you moan this loud, not to mention the look on your face—hooded eyes, and lips parted to chant his name every now, and then; pride blossomed in his chest.

Shared pleasure ate away at your bodies like a rabid animal, gnawing at your skin with nothing to stop it ‘til it reached your bones—it was immense, a toe-curling sensation with every relentless bounce of your hips; the way Kageyama’s cock repeatedly kissed your g-spot, the way your velvety walls sinfully wrapped around him like it was meant to be. Your thighs burned with exhaustion, a mix of pain, and pleasure completely taking over your body but you didn’t stop—you didn’t want to, not when Kageyama felt this amazing inside you.

You could tell the raven-haired was getting more, and more greedy for pleasure from how his nails painfully dug into your sweaty skin, the subtle upward thrust of his hips to meet your own, taking him even deeper into your wet heat. Heavy balls slapping onto your ass fuelled your desire further, the slight burn of it had you clenching around him.

“Ah!—Kageyama! Ohhhh fuck! You’re so deep . .” He closed his eyes at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue, voice as sweet as honey. Kageyama wondered if he could be a little more greedy, “Tobio—ngh! Call me Tobio.” He panted. It took all of his sanity to string the short sentence together, Kageyama couldn’t even hear himself over the loud skin slapping mixed with your endless whines.

Vigorously nodding, you moaned his name, “Tobio! Mhm—You gonna cum for me? Yeah?” It was Kageyama’s turn to nod at your gasped words, eyes momentarily screwing shut at its effect on him.

He wasn’t going to last any longer after just cumming his brains out from your hands a few minutes ago. “Oh, god!—Can I cum inside you? Please? Fuck, I want to stuff you full of my cum—ngh!” Words spilled from Kageyama’s mouth, blabbering out any coherent thought that came to mind. Truthfully, he’s always fantasised cumming inside someone, the feeling of emptying his balls, and shooting his thick load while sheathed deep inside was probably his biggest dirty secret—and he just shamelessly bared it to you.

“Yes—ah! Stuff me full of your cum, Tobio! Want your cum deep inside me, please.”

The desperation in your voice was all it took for Kageyama to snap, his fingers clawed at your hips as he painted your walls white, body stiffening under the immense pressure of pleasure. It didn’t help how your cunt gripped him like a vice, pulling him further, and further down the rabbit hole called bliss. You came with a loud moan of his name, curling over yourself, sweaty forehead resting on Kageyama’s bare chest as you desperately rode out your orgasms.

Both of you stayed still for a moment to catch your breaths, the sticky, uncomfortable feeling of warmth slowly engulfed your bodies as the high wore off. Kageyama didn’t even do much but he was absolutely spent, and drenched in sweat, he could only imagine your state, especially your thighs from all that bouncing.

“A-are you okay? That was—that was amazing . .” Dulcet voice sliced through the thick air, it earned a chuckle from you, you could only return a weak nod at his concern, your body too heavy to even move an inch. Kageyama’s soft breathing slowly pulled your to the borders of sleep but the summer heat against your skin was unbearable,

You mustered every strength to peel yourself off of him, “Shower with me?” Your lips wickedly curled upwards, hands gently caressing Kageyama’s bare chest. What a temptress.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel tired anymore. —

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

[danmeiljie]

Advance Bravely Tags

Check out my Advance Bravely For Beginners primer before watching the show!

ADVANCE BRAVELY GIFS MASTERLIST POST (includes links to gif posts of all 30 episodes from December 2022 and March 2023 currently streaming uncensored on Dailymotion and Dramacool)

Please find all the June/July 2023 gifs of all 30 Advance Bravely episodes under the tag #i made gifs from this show for a third time#

#the censoring# (documentation of what was cut from the official streaming censored versions of the show i.e. Viki Rakuten, Youtube)

NEW! #advance bravely favorites# (gif posts of a closer look at my favorite moments throughout the show)

#advance bravely... meta?!# (discussions of translations, and plot points)

#advance bravely photobook# (scans of pages from an official? photobook found on pinterest with quotes I've attempted to translate from the novel. I do not have a copy of this photobook nor have I been able to find any other info about it)

#advance bravely bts# (gif posts from any behind the scenes footage I've been able to find, including the official bts reel)

Yuan Zong Staring with Sexual Intent (gif post compilation of Xu Feng being horny in character)

Yuan Zong hovering over Xia Yao (gif post compilation of Xu Feng being a Top in character)

Xia Yao heavily judging everyone (gif post compilation of Gong Jun being a judgy gay in character)

Yellow River Date (a masterlist gif post documenting their very first date)

The Care and Keeping of a Twink (a complete guide in 3 parts)

How It Should Have Happened: Advance Bravely Fix-Its (short snippets writing in all the times I think Yuan Zong and Xia Yao should have kissed!)

And They Were Roommates...! (masterlist gif post documenting Yuanxia officially dating throughout the show)

Thank you for visiting!

(A fan of Xu Feng? Click HERE for more gifs of 徐峰!)

All tags mentioned in this post are below ⬇️

Updated on August 27, 2023

[prettymeredith]

Tickle Tasks for Lees

Are you brave enough to complete all 20? Challange yourself as well as your friends! Or don't, I'm not your Mother... 🤷‍♀️

Share to your profile and let others send you to your inbox.

Beginner

1) Share a tickling posts with either gif(s) or video and tag whoever sent this task.

2) Tickle the roof of your mouth by lightly licking it with your tongue. Do this for 60 seconds.

3) Send an anonymous message to a Ler's inbox and confess a tickle related thought you've had about them.

4) Reblog your favorite tickling posts and specify that you consider it a favorite.

5) Comment on the bottom of this post your favorite place to be tickled.

Easy

6) Post "I want tickle teases." on your blog and see what you get. 👀

7) Confess five tickle spots and rank them for your followers.

8) Make a friend! Choose a blog that's following you who you don't know and say hello.

9) Tag someone you wish to see reblog this list.

10) Find and follow 5 new tickle blogs.

Intermediate

11) Write & post your personal biggest tickling fantasy to your blog. Be descriptive.

12) Make a poll with 5 tickling scenarios and see how Ler's vote on which they'd like to see you in most.

13) Confess who your Ler crush is. (Bonus points if its me~ 😘)

14) Use a pen and write ticklish words and phases on tickly spots of your body; Palms, tummy, soles, etc.

15) Comment "I'm jealous of this lee" on three seperate tickling posts.

Hard

16) Post a photo of your soles or tummy with a note that says "Tickle Me" in the shot.

17) Beg me to tickle you. Send an ask (not anonymous) or DM to @prettymeredith and I may entertain it.~

18) Post a screenshot and/or link to the last tickle video you watched.

19) Share a text or DM that sparked a lee mood. Be respectful of the other person and crop out or black out their name.

20) Be a brat to a Ler friend of yours and solicit threats of ticklish acts to be used against you.

[turtleblogatlast]

“Hey, Hueso.”

Hueso sighs.

Moving his gaze to his left, he sees Leo casually leaning up against the wall next to him. The turtle isn’t looking at him, instead he seems to be staring at nothing at all. Strange, but not necessarily unheard of from him.

“We’re closed, Pepino.” Hueso states, moving a little away to continue closing down his restaurant-

“Can any portal be portal-jacked?”

Hueso pauses.

It’s a simple enough question, one that Hueso’s fairly certain he’s given an equally simple - if not a bit harsh - answer to. Granted, it was more in regard to the likelihood of bad portals being jacked rather than any at all, so maybe now that Leo has admittedly become much more competent with his portals, he’s just worried it’ll happen again.

The invasion certainly made the boy more…cautious. Quieter, too.

“Well…” Hueso runs a bony hand down his face, “From what I know, the possibility always exists, Pepino. However, it is far, far more unlikely to be portal-jacked when the portal is made by a master, rather than some reckless amateur.”

Leo nods his head, almost vacantly. If Hueso wasn’t paying so much attention he may have missed the way Leo seemed to look a little sick. Despite himself, concern builds within him.

“So-“ Leo starts, his voice soft in a worrisome way before he clears it, “So…if the portal was just- really strong, it could still be jacked if made by a beginner?”

Hueso watches closely even as he nods in answer, “Sí. Your own portals are strong, no?”

Leo shakes his head, “No, like- imagine a portal way stronger than mine ever were. Something huge and stuff. More, uh. More locked up dimensions and time, less…just space.”

“Hm.” Hueso frowns, considering the strange question. “Well, in truth I have yet to come across many portals on that level, but there’s nothing to say that it’s not possible-“ The smallest furrow of Leo’s brow makes Hueso hurry to add, “-ah, but there’s also nothing that says it is possible.”

“So…it could happen? It’s not a definitive “no”?” Leo asks, the smallest of shakes present in his tone.

Hueso puts a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “No lo sé, Pepino. I haven’t come across such portals enough to give a good answer to you.”

Something in him hurts a bit when Leo visibly plasters on a grin. “Ah, man. Well- Gracias, Hueso, this was just a stupid thing to get all hung up on anyway.”

Hueso looks closer at this annoying, insufferable, horribly quiet and reserved boy. He sees the dark circles peaking, barely visible thanks to the mask. He sees the scars of healed injuries never to be forgotten displayed all across the boy’s body. He sees the look in Leo’s eyes, a depression and worry that is…hard to look at, in someone so young.

He sees all of this in Leo, and as much as he sometimes wishes to deny it, he cares enough about him to gently ask. “Are you okay, Pepino?”

“Oh- yeah, yeah, don’t worry, Hueso, I’m not about to whine to you again or anything.” Leo laughs, backing away out of Hueso’s reach. “It’s just a little question, just something that’s been bothering me, y’know? Wanted to ask an expert.”

“Pepino-“ Hueso starts, not quite sure what to say. The words “you can come to me whenever you need to” are true, and yet he can’t bring himself to say them before Leo already is swinging a katana.

In the light of his blue portal, Leo sends Hueso his signature, manufactured grin. “Thanks for listening, Hueso!”

And then he’s gone. Just like that. Standing tall and confident with not a shred of that worry and reservation and fear left behind. It was the look of a soldier heading off to a battle he knew was terrifying, but one he also knew he needed to keep a brave face for.

It would have been a commendable look, if not for the fact Leo was heading home.

Hueso stares at the residual sparks of the portal for just a moment longer before moving to continue closing. Next time, because there will always be a next time, Hueso will have a fresh pizza waiting.

And, hopefully, a bit of that insufferable turtle he knows so well comes back to grab a slice.

[writingwithfolklore]

A Note for New Writers

                When I started this blog, one of my goals was to compile advice that I hadn’t really seen online anywhere. Stuff a little bit beyond the foundations I was already very familiar with. I took university courses and different approaches to writing combined with my own experience and lessons from the mentors and teachers around me, and began to write it all down to share with you.

                The idea was never that you would start writing your first character with Character is Plot say. However, I noticed there are a lot of new, beginner, or learning writers on here, and there’s a great value in really nailing the foundations, so here marks the start of a short series of foundational advice for you new writers (or for writers who have been around the block and may need a refresher. I know I do!)

                I see a lot of new writers in the tags looking down on yourselves or your ability. Stuff like, ‘why can’t I seem to do this’ or ‘if only I could actually follow this advice’. My posts were never meant to make you feel like you aren’t good enough. It was written with over a decade of experience behind it. It takes time to build those instincts in knowing what to do. Unfortunately you can’t just build writing skill by reading and collecting articles—they can be a guide, but they aren’t meant to instantly come naturally to you “if only you were a good writer.”

No one can automatically learn how to write just from reading some advice because writing skill isn’t about the knowing, it’s about the practicing.

                And it takes a hell of a lot of practice.

                Writing is mostly intuition—we practice certain skills to get them to a place where we can just do them without really thinking about it. It’s kind of like when you were learning to type, and you had to constantly remind yourself to put periods at the ends of your sentences. Then, over time and a million reminders, you started to just do it on instinct without really thinking about it.

                It’s muscle memory, it’s trying again and again, it’s a lot of struggling and tears and feedback and more tears and a million and one false starts and unfinished drafts and finished drafts that are really bad and lost contests and rejections. I have been through it all. I’m still going through it all. Only recently have I been published—it took me over a decade of practice to get there. Oh, and in the same month one of my pieces was published, another was rejected.

                That’s how it goes. It’s not some switch that will one day flick where you’re ‘good enough’. And the timeline isn’t so set. While I was working on building up skill, I was also working on building up confidence. In the right publications, with enough confidence, I probably could’ve been published years ago. In the right place, and if you’re brave enough to submit, you probably could too.

                It’s about who sees it, very rarely does it really depend on how ‘good’ it is (and you can tell from all the published work that can’t possibly be better than your unpublished work, right?)

                TL;DR, writing isn’t about the knowing, it’s about time, patience, and practice. If you’re reading advice and don’t feel good enough to execute on it, just take a little bit more time and get a hundred thousand more words under your belt. One day, it will just become intuition.

You will get there.

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Star Wars: The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x fReader

Fic Rating: E

Chapter Rating: E (choking, force choking, vaginal sex, brief blowjob, mild dom elements)

AO3

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE

SIX

A composition crafted by the insatiable craving for Qimir, a dream descends upon you. Layered with softness and simulated sensory aphrodisiacs, you step into your dream with wanton expectations for the stranger who knows exactly how to touch you.

Should be troubling. Would be if not for the comforting reassurance of sleep.

Here in the dark where stars shimmer through the black backlit canopy, there is a bed and the outline of the helmeted stranger who inhabits your dreams sitting on the edge of it. His upper half is disrobed and in the flicker of that campfire in the distance that’s always in your dreams now, your eyes drink in the muscle but drift to the scars. Slightly lifted on his skin, they meld one into the other and you know them for what they are. Naked and vulnerable, you step toward him. Briefly your fingers dust along similar scars lining your right side.

Scars of the past.

Scars of the saber.

Scars of the discarded.

Was he discarded too?

You reach out to him, chest squeezing tight with a longing for him. It’s easier to be brave in dreams. Easier still when you share something in common.

You dare to rest your hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says.

“Aw, you missed me.”

“And you missed me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he says. “Even if your mind drifts to—what’s his name?”

Qimir.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. To you.”

He’s right but you’re still not willing to gift the name. Makes it too real. But it is real isn’t it?

Not here. Not in a dream.

“I had the opportunity to take him,” you say quietly, unprompted, rubbing your thumb gently across the skin of his shoulder. “We were a heap on the floor, chests beating in synchronization. I still remember his breath on my lips, the way his hand fit in mine. Couldn’t treasure the touch. The want—the want was so overpowering—like being dragged underneath tumultuous waves. I couldn’t breathe.”

“So you came up for air.”

“I gasped for air. But that want—” Your eyes flutter closed.

“It persists.”

“Yes.” A whisper. “And I knew you could accept it. Maybe even mutually want it too. And here—in my dreams—it’s safer. Maybe even allowed.” Your eyes open again.

He stands, your hand slipping away from his shoulder, and reaches out, grasping your wrist tight as he whirls you into him. Practically a possession clutched against his chest, your back presses against the warmth of his skin. It’s been some time since you’ve been held in this way. Strongly. Tightly. Safely. A sigh of relief slips from your lips. His hand wraps around your waist, fingers sprawling as they gradually climb up your body. You awake to the current of his touch. Mapping out the curve of your breasts, he squeezes once and then trails his fingers over your shoulder and dusts them down your arm. Crawls them across your fingers and entangles them with his own before he lifts them to your sternum. Gently, he slides them further upward, caressing your throat.

That shame tugs at you. Memories of certain hands around your throat can induce panic but his hands—his hands induce thrill and excitement. You want more of it but you feel like you shouldn’t.

“Is this why you came?” His words break through your thought spiral and pull you back to him.

“No—and yes,” you admit. “I need you—to guide me. Teach me.”

There’s a shaky, modulated breath as his other hand smooths down your side and around your hip, pulling you tighter against his body. The helmet is cool against your temple as he rests his head against yours.

“But you still deny it. Suppress it.”

You swallow, your linked hands still lingering at the skin of your neck. Deny what? Suppress what? It can’t possibly be desire as it pools between your legs. You realize he’s speaking of the force.

“But I want—I want—”

His hand slips down your body, finger beginning to worry at your clit and the words you were going to say are lost in a small moan.

“Not enough. Not yet.”

“How do you—”

“Mmm. Your shame betrays you.” His voice robotically rumbles at a slowed cadence in your ear. “It holds you back. It’s why you still just stand here, not asking and especially not taking what you want.”

“I don’t know—” A small whine escapes as he circles your clit, the steady pressure of his firm cock bumping into your ass as he grinds against you. “—how to let go,” you whisper.

“Don’t know how or won’t?” His hand stills.

“Please—please don’t stop.”

“Release your shame. Loose your desire.”

“I—can’t.”

He untangles himself from you. Grasping you by the shoulders, he twists you to face him. Your heart hammers erratically as your eyes fall to his body as his hands slip from your shoulders. Sculpted arms dangling at his sides, he flexes his fingers as he holds himself tall and patient. His breathing is as ragged as yours, and in the lift of his chest, you spy a faint mole and search out more of them. They reveal themselves on his collarbone and further down his body where you instinctively reach out and skim along his side, thumbing downward along the angular line that defines his abs. You brush your index against the mole there. You want to kiss each of them but you don’t. You withdraw your hand and glance back up to the helmet.

A tilt of his head and those metal teeth mock you, tease you, smile at the pathetic way you waver between who you are and who you long to be. Or you imagine that must be what he thinks of you. But then he gently takes your hand and places it on his chest, assisting you in tracing his skin.

“You can,” he says, voice low and almost soft. “You are free here.” Of your own volition, your other hand traverses his body, fingers tucking in around his waistband. “That’s it. Keep going.” A sharp intake of breath. “Show me what else you can do.”

Enthusiasm builds in your chest and you remember what it’s like to have the force at your fingertips. It wouldn’t be so bad to use it here, right? You’re not really using it. Closing your eyes, you grasp at it with an open palm against his chest. A slight tug in your mind and his pants are on the ground. A push and he’s falling backwards onto the sheets. They wrinkle as he rights himself into a better position while your eyes drink in his whole appearance. His body is gorgeous and you can assume his face must be too and if not, it’s easy to picture Qimir’s easy smile and flirtatious eyes. His cock throbs in anticipation as you crawl onto the bed and briefly cup his balls, eliciting an expelled sigh. You run your tongue along the taut skin, tasting the salt from the bit of precum on his tip before you wrap your lips around and suck. He groans, then jerks impulsively, the head of his shaft hitting the back of your throat before you grin and withdraw. He pulls up on elbows, that helmet tilted as his chest heaves. You know he watches you eagerly but impatient now.

You straddle him. Slumping over his chest, knees against each of his hips, hovering just above his enthusiastic cock, you palm his chest. It’s just as you had imagined doing to Qimir—only better. Slipping up and back down his body, you carve out the lines and curves with your hands. Your fingers inch along his skin, savoring every placement and touch. Shudder and spasm of his muscles. The stillness he maintains as he allows you to explore all of him and act out what once was a fantasy of Qimir, quickly becomes a reality of this helmeted stranger who lives in your dream and he’s all that resides in your mind now.

“That’s it. Good,” he praises, tone dipping deeper and you swallow. “Don’t put that on a leash now.”

Bending over his chest, you press your lips to his skin, teeth dragging down to his nipple. You swirl your tongue across the peak, drawing it into your mouth. His modulated moan sends a thrill through your core and you bite down.

“Fuck,” he murmurs.

Your eyes flick up to where his would be without the helmet. “Too much?”

“Hardly. I was merely expressing my surprise. Didn’t think you had it in—”

You bite his other nipple before he can finish that sentence and his words are replaced by a hiss and swear as you run your fingernails down his skin, relishing in the way the flesh blossoms pink in parallel streaks.

This isn’t what you had planned for Qimir.

Those fantasies were laced with butter and sweetness—sculpted soft. Tender.

But something about this man makes you feel possessively primal. Like he can handle the claw and bite of every one of your demons. Thrive in the shroud of your shadow. Revel in your darkest impulses. Accept every part of you that you can’t even imagine accepting yourself. It’s the certainty that he will teach you in time that makes you need him even more.

You sink down onto him, unhurried, as every girthy inch fills your wet cunt. The thought of chasing pleasure is all that consumes you.

A curse. Yours or his? Doesn’t matter.

A praise. An encouragement. He utters words that coax out every raw desire that resides in you. Rolling your hips, your hand inches up to his neck, fingers clamping tight but not too tight, knuckles accessorizing the jutting line of that cortosis covered jaw.

“Do you like that?” You ask, as he thrusts upward from beneath you.

Your hips slam him back down, thighs squeezing tight to keep him steady. To keep control.

This is your dream. Your desire.

“Yes,” he breathes, stilted and shaking. There’s a bead of sweat gathered at the base of his neck. His own hand rises, cupped in a half moon and the force vibrates through your body, becoming a vise around your own neck. “Do you?”

Eyes darkening, you rise and sink down on him again in answer. “More,” you demand.

He obliges as you squeeze him tighter too. He lets out a groan as breathing becomes more difficult, driving you to ride him harder. A choked, almost pained moan slips from your lips.

“Better?”

You manage a nod, self-control snapping as you continue to ride the warmth of his cock, chasing your own pleasure heightened by his rattled, strained sighs. Faster. Rougher. Barely breathing but driven by greed. Chest nearly bursting. Your hips rise and fall with the rhythm of his harried breaths and the silent repetition of how good his cock feels stretching you.

Or you thought it was silent.

Until he responds, “you take it so well.”

Another curse spills from your lips.

That’s it,” he says in a ragged coo. “Keep with it. A little more. Just a little more.”

Your hands slip from his neck and dig into the soft skin of his chest, knuckles knocking against the tautness of his muscle as he meets your fervor with his own eager, swift thrusts from below. One hand falls to your thigh and he grasps tight as your air is still constrained in your lungs. It’s a new kind of feverish high. An ecstasy as your eyes roll back, whimpers buried deep in your chest as each thrust from him and grinding of your hips guides you to that climatic precipice.

You hover there in that plane of almost—almost—almost—

His hand skims up your thigh and he circles your clit with his thumb.

“Mmm, you are doing so well. Feels good doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” you answer, the syllable drawn out and dissipating into a whimpering sigh.

He stills and that force chokehold he has on you is used to his advantage as he angles himself deeper, hitting that sweet spot that jolts pleasure through every nerve of your body, constricting your airflow more. You’re afraid you might shatter. But still you fuck him, fast and fierce and freely.

“Yes, that’s it. Come for me,” he beckons.

That voice of his, those practiced hands, and the warm fullness of his cock extracts a broken and guttural cry. Hands flying back, digging into the flesh of his thighs as your walls constrict, your back arches with the internal coil of your body.

“Now,” he commands. “Let yourself go.”

Another thrust and you groan, all tension relenting and washing away with a few more staccatoed sighs and sputtered breaths. Eyes shut tight, you steady your breathing, settling into silent streams of satisfaction. Stars dot your eyelids and you drift—drift—drift in a thoughtless sea. The stars fade. The drifting ceases. Slowly, your fingers spread out, rubbing soothing circles into his skin.

“Mmm, such a good girl,” he says and relinquishes the force grip on your throat. “You did so well.”

Gulping in air, your eyes fly open as you crumple over his chest and his fingers thread through your hair.

—

“Stay with me,” he says, grasping your wrist and pulling you closer. His fingers skim across yours and he toys with them, helmet resting on top of your head. “Don’t withdraw into yourself.”

You press your lips against his collarbone and trail them along his neck, where he tilts his chin up just enough to give you better access under his helmet. You push away the questions that beg for an answer with the placement of kisses against his cooled skin. You can save them for another dream. Throwing your leg up over his, you note he’s still surprisingly hard. He commanded your pleasure but held back on his.

“Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical,” you mumble against his chest.

His fingers scrawl amatory letters across the back of your hands. “What?”

“You tell me to unleash my desire while you hold onto yours.”

“Is it hypocritical if the reasons for denying such desires vastly differ? I feel no shame. Controlled denial for the sake of the exciting and inevitable release over a long course of time is rewarding. I don’t punish myself. You and I are not the same.”

“Why couldn’t you just say you enjoy edging?”

“Semantics.”

A chuckle against his chest and you wonder if you can work him back up into a frenzy with the tug of the force. It hums for you, begging you to access it again in the enclosure of the stranger’s arms. If he wasn’t wearing that helmet, you could give him a fuller, more exhilarating experience. Or at least you tell yourself that’s the reason when really you just want to see his face. Your desires have shifted. You now seek equitable vulnerability in this exchange of intimacy.

Skimming your fingers up his chest and hovering just under his chin, they curl around the edge of the helmet. Slowly, gauging his reaction, you lift. You spy the faintest glimpse of some facial hair. But his hands curl around your wrists; a plea.

“I want to see you. Your face,” you mumble.

“It seems you understand the lesson.”

“Do I? I unleashed desire, as you said, but the want has returned.”

His fingers are gentle on your wrists as he continues to hold them, thumbing up and down. “Desire can never be satiated. Not fully. When you thirst, you drink. When you hunger, you eat. But that want only goes away for a short time. You see, desire is a need. You need to want. Without it, you waste away. With it, you find passion. And passion—is your strength.”

“I was taught there can be no contentment if you chase every want. No gratitude. Taught that I must free myself from my emotions and find peace only in what is destined to come to me by a greater will than my own.”

“Peace is a lie,” he says. “There is only passion.”

Such a simple statement, yet very much against what you were told all your life. You were taught to suppress everything. Abide by a million rules and be over criticized when you break one. That untamed passion, the kind he speaks of, is the path to the dark side. But here, in the stranger’s arms, it doesn’t feel dark to be guided by passion.

No.

It feels unburdensome.

Warm. Safe. Light.

Though you will still abide by what you know best by day, you realize the numbness is all but gone here in his arms by night. And you're drawn to this man and his lessons. Sworn to them.

Your desire to see his face is even greater now.

Bargaining for more than you deserve, maybe even taking advantage of the lesson, you yank up on the helmet. But before you can register his face, the haze shifts and the screaming of your name tears you from sleep.