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somedaylazysomeday · 1 year ago

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An Emissary of the (Goblin) King

Your quiet life as a teacher falls apart when a student wishes you away. Eventually, Jareth has to decide what to do with you.

Jareth x fem!reader (no use of 'y/n')

*This was written for a request in which the reader was supposed to be plus-sized. As such, there are a few scattered references to weight and body shape.

**Not related to my other Labyrinth works.

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 6,800

Warnings: themes of being forgotten, slight loss of identity, bar flirting, slight harassment, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie.

Masterlist

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When you had gotten wished away in your thirties, you were… perturbed.

After all, you had been long past the days of fairy tales and make-believe. Magic was a lovely story element for children, a way to encourage their imaginations and allow them to dream of the impossible. But it wasn’t real.

At least, that had been your theory between the ages of ten and thirty-something. Then, one of your second-grade students in the after-school tutoring session had gotten upset with you. You had told him that he couldn’t have a second helping of snacks unless he agreed to work on his math problems with you. He had been struggling with subtraction in particular, but was so energetic that it was difficult for him to focus.

You hadn’t really been able to blame him - it was after school hours and the sun was beginning to set, throwing beams of blazing orange light from beneath a carpet of dark purple clouds. It was the perfect counterpoint to the playfully spooky Halloween decorations you had put up around the room.

Anyway, when you had insisted that your student sit down and focus on his math sheet before you let him have another handful of gummy worms, he had pouted his tiny face. With an impressive amount of venom for a six-year-old, he said, “Well, I wish the goblins would take you away right now.”

You were still wearing an indulgent smile when you appeared in the straw-strewn throne room with an anticlimactic pop!

The Goblin King was lounging on his uncomfortable-looking throne, watching you with his own indulgent smile. “Wished away by a child, were you? Pity. He likely meant nothing by it, but… well, what’s said is said. I doubt he will opt to run the labyrinth, but let us see if he calls.”

Operating under the idea that you had fallen and given yourself a rather nasty concussion, you simply nodded and took a seat on the cleanest section of the stone floor you could find. It was quiet in the throne room, though you could hear the unmistakable sounds of distant chaos.

It had started small - brushing a piece of straw from the stone slab next to you. It fell into the pit and that made you feel a little better. Then you pushed the straw from the next stone, and the next until the section around you was clear. Then you started using your feet to push the straw down the stairs until it was gathered in a neat pile at the bottom.

“Would you like a broom?” the man with the wild hair asked. You were cautious when you faced him, but he simply looked amused.

“And a dustpan, if you don’t mind.”

He shook his head. “Unnecessary.”

You hadn’t bothered asking what that meant. Instead, you applied yourself to neatening the throne room, working from the edges and sweeping all the debris toward the pit in the center of the room. Even the brown dots - ones you hoped were mud but suspected were some kind of dried fecal matter - lifted easily enough under the stiff bristles of the broom.

At last, the room was clean and you swiped your forearm across your perspiring face. You didn’t know how the pit was going to get clean, but you were going to be miffed if the answer was ‘you’.

When you caught movement from the corner of your eye, you jumped. You hadn’t forgotten the room’s other occupant - how could you? - but he moved with such impossible silence that you couldn’t track him with hearing alone.

The man came to stand beside you and you took the chance to study him subtly. He looked… strange.

You shook yourself, reflexively berating yourself for the unkind thought, but you hadn’t been wrong. His face was narrow, flaring out at the cheekbones. His eyes were mismatched, but not in a heterochromatic way. No, one of his eyes was bluish-green while the other was simply black, as if it were entirely pupil.

His hair was long and straight, though cut at various lengths that left it tapering from his head down. Like a shag haircut on steroids. You were a little jealous and had vaguely started wondering whether you would be able to pull off the style when he turned. You realized just how tall he was.

His mismatched stare was heavy and intense, and you redirected your attention as soon as possible. You opted to look at the pit instead, to take in the pile of straw and droppings, but it was gone.

“What happened to the straw?” you asked, bewildered by the empty pit in front of you.

He smirked, lips twisting with an amusement that didn’t reach his eyes. “I discarded it, of course.”

“No, you didn’t,” you contradicted. “I’ve been standing there the whole time.”

“I used magic,” he clarified.

“Magic isn’t real.”

The man’s eyes widened, then narrowed at you. “Have you not yet realized that you’re in a different place than you were when you were wished away?”

“You said that earlier,” you remembered. “‘Wished away’. What do you mean?”

“At last, the typical questions,” he sighed. “Admittedly, far later than they are usually asked. Allow me to explain.”

The explanation that followed had been interesting, if mildly ludicrous: the man was actually a fae named Jareth. He collected lost and wished away items, though the only ones of them people cared enough to chase down were living things. He guarded the Labyrinth, collected the living things that appeared in the Underground - mostly children and pets, as he had explained - and allowed the wishers to run the Labyrinth if they wanted their disappeared item back.

It could have been a far shorter explanation if you hadn’t been far more convinced by your concussion theory.

In the end, Jareth had gotten tired of listening to your counterarguments and had sent you to ask Hoggle the rest of your questions. Hoggle had answered your questions… eventually. With a lot of complaining and work between giving those answers. You didn’t mind - work was something to keep you from running in circles in your own thoughts, and you learned a lot about the Labyrinth and the Underground simply by following Hoggle around.

Jareth didn’t call you back to the throne room for nearly a week.

“It seems as though your wisher is not going to run for you,” he said, taking on an expression he may have thought looked pitying. “He is at home with his mother, playing and eating and sleeping quite well without another thought of you. Quite the heroic youth."

“He’s six!” you reminded, mildly outraged at Jareth’s censure. “Even if he had offered, I wouldn’t want him running your labyrinth. It’s a death trap.”

Jareth’s expression had flattened at your insult, his mismatched eyes glittering with irritation. “Whether he would have run or not is irrelevant in the end. The real question is: what is to be done with you?”

“I…” You disliked asking questions you already knew the answers to, but there was nothing to be gained by playing things cool. “Could I go back home?”

“No.”

The blunt answer, though exactly what you had expected, still made you wilt.

Jareth, for all that he made you nervous, didn’t look cruel about it. In a voice that was kinder than you had hoped, he said, “Even if I would agree to send you home, it would be impossible. You have been here too long. You have eaten and drank from the Underground. A single bite, a single sip… those could be reasoned with. Enough to influence a dream, forge a connection. But anything more? You are of this place now, more one of us than one of them.”

You wanted to argue, but something in your chest agreed, some nameless tangle of a thing recognizing that everyone and everything you had known were ‘them’. And you were not.

Not anymore.

You had expected to be eaten by the Firies or thrown into the Bog or at least turned into a goblin, but Jareth had given you a different job: you were to be his hands and eyes in the human world.

“After all, no one will wish their belongings to me if they are ignorant of my existence,” he had told you. “You will spread information. Books and legends, stories told by firelight and in dark rooms as their occupants drift to sleep.”

And that was your task, had been for an eternity before you thought to check what year it was at all. People didn’t recognize you when you went to the human world, not even if you happened upon someone you had once known. That was fortunately rare, and became more so as the years faded. You didn’t seem to age, not the way you had. Perhaps there was an extra strand of silver in your hair or an aching joint where there never had been before, but it was uncommon.

Oh, you looked the same as you always had. You could verify that any time you were on the surface. Just then, for instance, you were standing outside of a bar and could see yourself in the shine of the old-fashioned, gilt-edged windows. You were generously curved as you had been before, your face the same shape.

If you stared too long, though, you could catch something strange in your face, in the way you walked. Nothing overt, of course, but something that made you look… sharp. Wild. It drew some attention when someone watched you for too long. The mask of your humanity - what remained of it, anyway - fell away with exposure. From there, it could go either way. Sometimes, humans fled like prey before a predator. Other times, they hit on you.

Had humanity always been like this? So willing to run into danger? You didn’t think so, but it was getting difficult to remember.

Either way, you had barely sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of wine before someone slid onto the barstool beside you. To be fair, you couldn’t be too upset about it. You had been searching for company.

“I’ll pay for that,” the man announced to the bartender. The bartender didn’t look like she could have cared less, but she managed a nod. “So, what’s your name?”

“I’m much more interested in learning yours,” you deflected.

The stranger beamed at that and you smiled back. If you had your way, he wouldn’t learn your name. Even if he did, he would forget it before the day ended and you would never see him again. You would feel guilty about that, but you needed him for temporary relief from your body’s needs, nothing more.

He could never be anything more.

You pushed all of that from your mind and focused on your partner for the evening. He was handsome, the type of person you dated before you were wished away. It was getting harder to remember those days.

The man’s personality was a little intense, but that tended to ease back a bit after someone realized that you weren’t going to disappear from them… yet.

Two drinks in, you had offered a smile that was almost genuine and were getting ready to suggest a change in location when your chest vibrated.

That wasn’t quite the right way to phrase it, but it was a difficult sensation to describe. It felt as though your ribcage and all of the organs it protected shook in tandem. The closest you had ever come to pinpointing the sensation was to compare it to the ringing of a gong, though thankfully, without the noise of the actual strike.

The sensation was a warning that the Goblin King wanted you back in the Underground. It would happen more often the longer you ignored the summons, and would eventually grow painful.

You rarely let it continue that long.

“I have to go,” you told your potential partner, standing abruptly from the stool and handing your credit card to the bartender. “Drinks are on me.”

At least, you assumed it was a credit card. It had no numbers or identification on it and you certainly didn’t have any money, but you had never had trouble paying for anything with it. Jareth had given it to you with minimal explanation.

“Hang on-” the man protested, catching at your arm. You looked at his hand, then at him. Some of your strangeness must have shown through, since he slowly withdrew. He wasn’t wary enough, since he continued to speak. “What happened? I thought this was going somewhere.”

“It was,” you agreed simply, accepting your card from the bartender and scrawling a series of loops on the receipt she slid toward you. “Now it’s not.”

Fortunately for your almost-partner for the evening, he thought better of trying to physically stop you again and you left the bar unaccosted.

Transportation to the Underground was rarely as dramatic as it had been that first time. Instead of a sudden, jarring switch in location, it happened as a slow fade. In this instance, you were walking and your surroundings seemed to blur slightly. When you could see clearly once more, you were in the Goblin King's throne room.

Your forward motion hadn’t stopped, but it was far more risky to keep walking with the goblins thronging around your feet. You looked down at the group currently blocking your way and said, “Excuse me.”

The goblins - who had apparently been occupied in some kind of chicken-based game, shrieked and tumbled to either side. You continued toward the throne.

For his part, Jareth was pretending he hadn’t noticed you yet. Instead, he was sprawled across his throne and studying the riding crop he had resting across his knees. Most observers would believe he was pensive, utterly lost in thought, but you knew better. Jareth loved to be watched, and if he could convince you that you had chosen to look without any prompting from him, so much the better.

“You summoned me, sir?” you asked, reaching the base of the throne and offering a small incline of your head.

Jareth glanced over, managing to look surprised, curious, and haughty. “Yes, I want a report on your progress.”

“Do you mind if I dismiss your subjects?”

“As if you do not number among them?” Jareth tested, a corner of his mouth quirking upward knowingly. When you simply maintained eye contact, he gave a slight nod. “Very well, if it would please you.”

With effort, you managed not to shake your head at him. You were well able to focus even with the din of goblins around you, but Jareth took any respite he could get from them.

“Can you all go downstairs for a while?” you asked, directing the question to the room at large. “I need to speak with the king.”

“You’s is speaking to him now,” one squeaky goblin pointed out, sounding sullen.

Before the others could agree, you quickly cut in and diverted them. “You’re right, I am. But we need to talk about some very boring stuff and we need the room to be quiet. If you want to stay, you can’t make any noise. In fact, you could even help clean the throne room…”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything else, the goblins rushed out of the room in a panicked tide. You smirked at the receding wave of excitable, temperamental creatures. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since you had taught six and seven year-olds, but the goblins weren’t so different from human children.

When you turned around, Jareth was sitting on the throne like it was a chair rather than a fainting couch. One of his eyebrows was raised and he looked impressed despite himself. “Someday, you must help me gain such mastery over my subjects.”

“Impossible,” you told him flatly. “They’re too focused on impressing you.”

“That has always been my burden to bear,” the Goblin King drawled, preening slightly as you tried not to roll your eyes.

Jareth was the king. If you were to be technical about it, he was your king. He had left you alive when he didn’t need to. Even more than that, the nature of the job he had given you meant you had certain powers. The Goblin King did not bestow those lightly. You felt like you owed him at least basic respect, if not anything more subservient.

Besides, Jareth had enough people - well, goblins - trying to respond to his every need. You liked to think that he enjoyed the bits of personality you were willing to share with him.

Rather than voice any of that aloud, you gave a shallow nod. "But you summoned me for a purpose. What do you need?"

With the amusement still dancing across his fine features, Jareth tilted his head at you. "The work I gave you has never taken so long. I wanted an update on your progress."

"My…" For the first time since you had found yourself in this strange land, you were thrown off by Jareth. He had never given any deadlines for your work, never ordered you to be done by a specific time. In fact, the opposite had been true. On the rare occasions that you worried about how long something took, Jareth was the first to remind you that he - and, by extension, you - had all the time that would ever exist.

You managed to scrape together a semblance of competence. "An update. Yes. I can- That is, the work you gave me is complete. I distributed the books, set up special showings of the film, and orchestrated the release of some photographs."

"All of that has been done?" Jareth checked. When you nodded, he gave you a stern look. "Then why did you not return to me immediately?"

As if on cue, something low in your stomach gave a heaving, disgruntled throb. You had never been overly desire-driven when you were fully human, and you blamed that for your current awkwardness - sex had never been common enough for you to grow blunt about your need for it. But you still had that need, and your body’s complaints were almost enough to drown out the weight of Jareth’s stare. Almost.

“I was in the middle of a different task,” you replied, trying to make it sound as bland as possible. Jareth’s attention span was stronger than that of his subjects, but he still made a concerted effort to avoid boring subjects. “Nothing of importance.”

Jareth studied his hands. “No, I imagine there is not much of importance in a dirty tavern.”

You froze. Not that you had been moving very much before, but every muscle locked down in response to the pointed revelation that Jareth could and did know where you went when you were Aboveground. “I-”

“You?” Jareth repeated mockingly. “Yes, you. You allowed a human to ply you with alcohol, then to paw at you. Though I suspect, given the tone of your conversation, that is far more innocent than what you would have done if I had not summoned you back here.”

“But how-”

Your question cut off abruptly when Jareth made a noise of impatience, tapping his cheekbone twice, just below his human eye.

“You watch me?” you demanded, surprise turning swiftly to anger and embarrassment. “Why?”

Jareth treated the question as literal rather than rhetorical, musing for a moment before he answered. “At first, to see if you intended to flee. It would not have worked, but it is always amusing to see humans try. Then, to be certain that you were performing your tasks to my standards. And finally…” The smile on Jareth’s face was indolent, with more than a hint of mischief. “Simply because I can.”

Glaring at an omnipotent fae king was probably not the wisest thing you could do, but your fury made you bold. “And have you watched me during my personal time before?”

Jareth let his head loll toward you for the best view of his self-satisfaction. “Yes.”

With a barely stifled noise of outrage, you spun with every intention of storming out of the room. Unfortunately for you, the powers Jareth had allotted you were nothing compared to his own. Without a sound or a motion from him, Jareth ordered the heavy doors to swing closed and there was nothing you could do to force them open once more.

“I do not see why you are so offended,” Jareth told you, conversational tone coming from nearer than his throne. “I am well aware that humans have needs.”

“Then why interrupt me…” Your hissed demand had caught in your throat when you turned to find Jareth much closer than anticipated. The Goblin King twisted his head slightly to one side, matching the smirk that twisted his lips. You cleared your throat. “Why interrupt me when you know I’m occupied? Like you said, I have needs. It doesn’t help anyone if I’m too busy to meet them.”

“You are missing the most obvious solution,” Jareth informed you, spreading his hands to either side. “I can help meet those needs.”

“You?” you repeated skeptically.

Jareth’s arms dropped and he looked almost offended. “And why not me?”

It may have been a rhetorical question, but you gave it as much thought as he had to your earlier question about his reasoning. “Well, you don’t seem like you would be interested. You don’t usually do things unless you have something to gain.”

“Have I not struck you as altruistic?” he asked. You shook your head, opting for honesty above tact. “Good. You are right, I don’t perform favors out of something as naïve as kindness. I have much to gain from this offer.”

“Like what?” you asked. The suspicion in your voice was so thick as to be almost comical, but Jareth didn’t seem offended.

“Pleasure,” he answered simply. “Do you want to meet your needs now? Or will you wait until the next time you have a spare moment to be disappointed by some human in a bar?”

You thought about waiting, you really did. Jareth was cocky enough without giving him access to something as personal as your pleasure. But you were growing close to desperation. That could make you more likely to be careless in Aboveground, something you weren’t willing to risk.

“You’re right,” you said. “It is the most obvious solution.”

The only thing that saved you from the self-congratulatory smile that slid across Jareth’s face was the fact that you erased it with your lips a moment later.

The Goblin King’s teeth were sharp. It had been one of the first things you noticed when you met him so long ago, but you were still a little shocked to be confronted by that sharpness when you slipped your tongue between his lips.

Jareth’s surprise rivaled your own, though for different reasons. For half a moment, he seemed taken aback by your ardor, but he recovered and took control of the kiss before you could get used to the taste of him. He was like the sweetest wine, and you were instantly addicted.

A hand latched around your jaw kept your head positioned just where Jareth wanted it, and he swept through you like a hurricane. It was all you could do to keep up with him, but you were the first one to succumb to wandering hands.

His clothes were always so decadent, and you had been waiting a long time to see if they felt as lovely as they looked. You were delighted to say that they did - textures sliding and dancing beneath your fingertips - but you were more focused on what you felt under those clothes.

The heat of Jareth’s skin was immense even through his clothing, enough to pull an answering sensation of heat from you. Every item of clothing you removed from him ratcheted the temperature further up until you felt like there was fire under your skin.

Halfway through removing Jareth’s ostentatious cape, you pulled away to deposit it safely on his throne. It wouldn’t do to have it trampled by goblins or, worse, land in chicken excrement.

Jareth muttered complaints for every moment you were away from him, pulling you impatiently closer the moment you were in arm’s reach. “I don’t know why you did that. I intend for that throne to be our next destination.”

You cast an assessing glance toward the door. It looked heavily barred, and you hadn’t been able to budge it, but there was a distinct possibility… “Fine with me, as long as you’re sure we won’t be interrupted. I don’t want to toss any of your subjects from the window of your throne room.”

“The door is locked,” he assured you, ducking his head to press wet kisses down your neck before blowing gently across his handiwork.

With a shiver at the abrupt shift in temperature, you nodded. “And no goblin has ever managed to circumvent a locked door before.”

Jareth paused, clearly intent on undoing your shirt, but gave a marvelously exasperated groan. “Fine.”

Your triumph was cut off by an abrupt shriek as Jareth pulled you into his arms so strongly that your feet left the floor. “Jareth! What are you doing?”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, pet,” he replied, pouting. “I’m not wasting any more time.”

And then he was striding toward a section of the throne room that looked distinctly… soft around the edges, and you recognized it as a portal. All of that was secondary, of course, to the ever-present awareness of being held in Jareth’s arms.

As someone with a proud set of curves, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d been lifted by a lover. That was a shame, since being carried was something of a weakness for you, especially when you weren’t worried about being dropped. And nothing in Jareth’s expression or posture warned that he was about to run out of strength.

You were still basking in the sensation as Jareth stepped through the portal and into a room that was nearly as large as the throne room. The major differences were that there was no pit and that the place of the throne was occupied by the largest bed you had ever seen.

A smile stretched across your face as Jareth set you down on that large bed, and he frowned at you. “What is amusing you?”

“This bed is enormous,” you explained. “Yet I’ve never seen you with anyone.”

“I’ve had a partner here on numerous occasions,” he told you haughtily. “Perhaps you have not seen them because you are so busy finding partners among the humans.”

“Perhaps,” you agreed readily enough. “Or perhaps it has been such a long time that your last partner and I missed each other.”

“That…” Jareth’s lips pursed, “...is possible.”

You didn’t necessarily remember closing your eyes while you laughed at that, but you must have. When you opened them once more, Jareth was looming over you. “Pleased as I am to provide amusement, there are other noises I would rather pull from you.”

Your breath caught at the rough admission. Jareth’s face descended before you could scrape up a response, and then you were too concerned with meeting the intoxicating rhythm of his mouth against yours.

The next thing you knew, you were resting more securely on the bed with Jareth holding himself above you. Both of you were fully naked and you had no idea how you had gotten that way. Most likely, he had used his magic to remove your clothing, but it was possible that you had been too thoroughly distracted by his kisses to worry about something as minor as what his hands were doing.

In any case, you were reveling in the way your hands could roam over him without encountering any barriers. Jareth’s body was pale, muscles dancing subtly under his skin. That paleness was marked with occasional scars - silvery marks that spoke of injuries from long ago. You couldn’t see much of him below the mid-torso since he was pressed so tightly to you, but you could feel the delicious length of him, hot and hard against your thigh.

When Jareth finally pulled away, he only went far enough to make eye contact without either of you crossing your eyes. “I want to taste you. Is that acceptable to you?”

“You’re the king,” you reminded him with a sardonic smile.

Jareth’s jaw flexed and his mismatched eyes narrowed. “Precisely. Which is why I expect an honest answer when I ask a question. Do you want this?”

“Yes.” The confirmation was a little breathless, but Jareth’s reply had been unexpected for someone who placed such an emphasis on retaining control. “Yes, I do.”

“Good,” he told you with a nod.

His patronizing tone might have set your teeth on edge, but Jareth accompanied it with a praising stroke down the length of your body. His fingertips trailed fire from your collarbone, over one breast, across the swell of your stomach, and down to the part of you that was aching for him. At the same time, he slid down until his face was even with your hips and you could hardly keep still with the anticipation filling you.

With your knees already parted around him, Jareth had only to wedge his shoulders between your thighs to gain full access to your core. The sudden exposure to the air of the room sent a chill through the parts of you that were burning the hottest, but the coolness only heightened the sensations.

Jareth didn’t give you any warning, any time to brace. Instead, he ducked his head suddenly, swiping the flat of his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the very top. He paused for a moment while you made a sound of startled pleasure, his lips quirking.

“Delicious,” he told you. “I wonder if you’re even sweeter inside?”

Before you could offer any reply, Jareth apparently decided to see for himself. One of your legs was tossed over his shoulder while he pinned the other to the bed. That was the only thing that kept you from trying to strangle him with your thighs when he began to torment you in earnest.

Those plush lips and wicked tongue explored every part of you, wringing pleasure from you like it was something precious he could save for later.

An elegant finger pushed into your core, pressing into the heat and slickness of you without a bit of difficulty. Your muscles spasmed so dramatically that it forced you to sit up - or, more accurate, to try. Jareth’s arm across your hips kept you pinned to the bed, leaving you to writhe, squeeze your legs around him, and cry out your pleasure loud enough for the entire castle to hear. The hand pressing you into the softness of the mattress strummed fingers across your hip.

With an expression that felt wild with pleasure, you stared down between your own thighs and clenched even harder around that finger. Your eyes had met Jareth’s mismatched gaze where it peeked over the roundness of your tummy. Mischief glimmered on what you could see of his face, and there was a clear sense of enjoyment in his bearing.

That eye contact sent an electric thrill through you, and you were gone. Your head kicked back against the pillow and you seemed to leave your body for an eternity, shattering into infinite pieces under the onslaught of pleasure Jareth was using to assault you.You may have made a noise - probably had, if you were judging from your experience so far - but you couldn’t hear it over the way your ears rang with the sound of your mind shattering.

When you finally settled back into your body again, it felt too small to possibly contain everything you had felt. Jareth was applying long, luxurious licks to your core, sweeping over the entirety of your slit and it was all you could do to push him away.

Jareth gave you a moment to collect your breath, but soon enough, he was peering down at you with no small amount of pride on his strange face. “Will you recover?”

You were a bit embarrassed by the strength of your reaction to him, but you managed a smile and a nod. “Guess I needed that more than I thought. It’s been a while.”

The fae tilted his head to the side, a hint of a smile showing the white points of his teeth. “My dear, do you honestly believe I have lived so long without learning to draw pleasure from someone? Your state of arousal has little to do with it.”

The post-orgasmic glow kept you from mustering the scoff that deserved. After delivering a sad little huff, you told him, “Humble as ever, Goblin King.”

“I would so hate to leave you with an inaccurate idea of my skill,” Jareth drawled. “I would be happy to provide further proof at your earliest convenience.”

Your breath caught in your throat, leading to an embarrassing cough. On the positive side, that cough gave you a moment to internally puzzle through that. Was Jareth volunteering to do this again sometime? He was technically your boss and your king, and thus a romantic connection you had never experienced before, but you couldn’t honestly say you wouldn’t be with him again. Even ignoring the pleasure - difficult as that was - you… really wouldn’t mind repeating this experience.

“Uh, okay,” you said elegantly.

Jareth simply smiled at you, but something about his intent gaze warned that he understood your thoughts as clearly as he did his own. Still, all he said aloud was, “Did that satisfy you, pet? Or would you perhaps like to continue?”

Before you could fight it, your gaze dropped to the apex of his thighs. He was visibly hard and ready for you, his body betraying an eagerness that was totally hidden in his expression. Despite his state of arousal, Jareth was still giving you the option to be done with him. As he was known for his lack of tact, you recognized and appreciated the effort Jareth was putting into making you comfortable.

And what better way was there to show your appreciation than to offer some relief?

“I think I might need a little more,” you told him, playing coy. You even added a demure drop of your gaze, though you could see him through your lashes.

That was how you watched when Jareth’s expression sharpened, though his voice stayed careless. “I don’t believe in offering partial respite. I shall see this task through until it is complete.”

The smile that fought to spread across your face was only stifled by the way Jareth caught at your ankle and pulled you further down the bed. He surged upward at the same time until you were firmly beneath him. The fae dotted your face, jaw, and neck with kisses as he settled heavily on top of you. Your legs parted automatically to wrap around his waist and draw him closer, but you were taken aback when the length of him pressed against your still-sensitive core.

You were still surfing the wave of heightened sensation when you felt the tip of Jareth’s length notch into your opening.

Jareth’s fingers trailed from your forehead down to your jaw, turning your head until he could peer into your face. “Are you ready for me, pet?”

“Yes,” you agreed eagerly. “Please…”

“Don’t beg, sweet thing,” he instructed. “You never need to beg for me.”

And then he was driving into you - robbing you of any ability to process that.

Jareth had seemed to have an average build below the waist, as you had expected from his elegant physique and slender limbs. Still, he felt earth-shattering as he eased inside of you, enough to take your breath away even considering how wet you were with the remains of your earlier orgasm.

You were utterly still as he pressed in, locked in place by the amount of concentration you had fixed on the feeling of him. But the first time he withdrew from the depths of you, every part of you writhed beneath him. Your hands grasped, your toes curled, your head tilted in an attempt to ease the groan that fought for release from your throat.

Jareth swallowed that groan, dipping down easily to sweep through your mouth just as thoroughly as he had the first time. He plundered you greedily, feeding on the sounds you made for him as his hips danced closer and away, closer and away.

Infuriatingly, he kept you - and himself - poised on the edge of orgasm for an eternity, slowing whenever either of you came too close to the precipice. Jareth chased pleasure eagerly, though, tormenting you with fingers and lips to push you higher without allowing you the relief of release.

“Jareth, please,” you begged as his hips slowed once more.

He arched a brow at you. “Yes, pet? What do you need?”

“I-” You gave a hoarse gasp as a deliberate twist of his hips left the length of him brushing against your g-spot. It was followed by a noise of frustration when his pace slowed to a fraction of what it had been. “Please, I need to come.”

His smile was so sudden that it looked almost fierce. “My dear, why did you not tell me earlier?”

A retort sprang to your lips, but it died there as he shifted infinitesimally inside of you. That minor change had devastating effects on the angle of his thrusts inside of you, which picked up speed until it was all you could do not to drown in him.

Your body tightened around his as it had done so many times before, but he didn’t slow this time. Instead, his lips caught yours as his thumb strummed your clit.

That kiss was only broken when your orgasm hit you like a train, kicking your head back and dropping your mouth open so you could cry out from the incredible intensity of the pleasure that filled you. Your limbs curled around Jareth, constricting to keep him pressed against you as tightly as possible.

On his side of things, Jareth didn’t seem inclined to fight his imprisonment. His hips pistoned between your trembling thighs, burying himself in you over and over until - finally - his rhythm faltered.

Those sharp teeth were bared in a snarl as he pushed himself as deeply as he could get. The warmth of his release flooded you.

When the frantic pulses of his hips slowed, Jareth let himself drop on top of you. His weight was on you for a fraction of a second before he twisted to pull you on top of him instead. Since he was still buried in your core, the motion left you in the grip of an aftershock, but you recovered enough to move off of him.

Jareth’s eyes were closed, but his hands lashed out to keep you from moving as soon as you started to. “I don’t know where you think you’re going, pet, but you are mistaken.”

“I’m just rolling off of you, Jareth,” you told him, exasperated. “If I crush you, it’ll be regicide and I can’t imagine a goblin trial is pleasant.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed, eyes still closed. “But mostly because they show an inability to focus on a single issue for more than seconds at a time. And as for being crushed by you… Not only is it an impossibility, but it sounds rather pleasant.”

“Jareth…” you sighed.

That made him open his mismatched eyes and you were startled to see the changes in them. The blue-green of his human eye was expanding both toward the pupil and over the white sclera. The pupil-less darkness of his fae eye was doing the same, slowly working out until the entire orb of his eye was dark.

When Jareth finally spoke, it was with a smile that showed his sharp teeth. “Did you know there is a difference in the way you say my name now?”

You paused, scanning over his face for a moment before you asked, “And what does that mean?”

Jareth didn’t immediately answer you, but his smile didn’t fade during the stretch of quiet. At long last, he said, “It means that things have changed between us. It means that I encourage you to seek to satisfy your needs in my bed. And it means that I chose the perfect person to serve as my emissary in the human world.”

That was significantly less worrisome than what you thought he would say. In fact, it was even… sweet. “I certainly never thought I would end up here, but I can’t say that I regret it.”

“Faint praise,” Jareth said dryly. “But praise nonetheless. We shall see whether we can further improve your outlook on your place in my kingdom.”

“I look forward to that,” you admitted, relaxing slightly into him.

Jareth’s arms tightened around you, drawing you even closer. “As do I.”

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading! I'm not officially accepting requests, but someone sent this one in and it caught my interest enough to help me break through some writer's block.

Happy Halloween!

I don't offer a taglist for spicy fics, but you can find other works on my masterlist.

#labyrinth #labyrinth 1986 #jareth #jareth the goblin king #reader insert #reader insert fic #reader insert fanfiction #jareth x reader #jareth x fem!reader #jareth x you #lemon #spicy #minors dni #not suitable for minors #ink's asks #ink's fics

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laroinda · 6 months ago

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i just caught up to wind breaker manga (the satoru nii one) and i desperately need to rant abt it

let's start from the fact that i'm not a fan of this genre of manga. the only other delinquent series i've actually read was t*kyo r*vengers but we shall not speak about this one and it certainly didn't leave a good impression of this type of manga on me. so imagine my surprise when i tuned in to the first episode of wind breaker and i found myself tearing up by the end of it, let's just say that it was quite unexpected.

the thing that surprised me the most about this series is the heart that it has. yes it's cheesy, yes it's cringe at times, yes the premise of the town and the school is so silly it might just fall apart if you start looking at it too closely. but the series manages to build the sense of community within this place so fast and so well that i never actually found myself questioning any of that.

another thing that was a really nice surprise was how kind the series is, both with its characters and with the themes it builds itself on. the main one of course being opening yourself up and learning how to trust others. every time we see a character struggle with that it tugs at my heartstrings so much i end up barely able to read the chapter cause my eyes water immediately, especially when it's about sakura himself.

sakura, oh my dear sakura. i could sing him praises for hours i fear so i'll try to keep it short. he's just incredible. he's truly the heart of the story in every sense of the word. he's so kind! he's such a good person, even if he doesn't believe it or doesn't know how to properly express his care for others! he's so lovable from the start, even before you see him grow into the person he is at the current stage of the manga. and he keeps growing and changing and becoming the person he probably never thought he could ever become before he came to furin. and it's all because of the people around him that accept him and let him grow at his pace, even if he makes mistakes or doesn't do things exactly right immediately.

i love the slightly more recent imagery of comparing him to a plant that started to grow since he joined furin. it started in the stretch between the keel arc and the red lights district arc when he decided that furin is the place that he belongs in and we saw a little sprout, but i feel like it's gonna come to full fruition in this arc. it's pretty clear to me considering that endo literally compares him to a flower and his whole thing is to try and set sakura on fire (metaphorically of course... i hope). it's probably gonna be contrasted to umemiya who's literally a gardener and under whose care and leadership, directly or not, sakura was finally able to grow because he was nurtured by those around him. in this case the main person who allowed that to happen would be umemiya as he's the one who made furin into what it is now. also, i've seen quite a lot of people be worried (?) about sakura potentially going with endo to protect furin but idk man i don't think that would happen. the angst potential is incredible but he was literally calling out that girl in the red lights arc (i'm sorry i forgot her name, it slipped my mind cause i've read like 90% of this manga in two days) for... basically doing just that. giving herself up so that others could be safe without thinking about their feelings. i feel like he's probably gonna take that lesson and apply it here.

speaking of which, i love this whole theme of passing down knowledge and advice on how to handle things that are new to you. first it's kotoha telling sakura that he needs allies to be at the top of furin, that he should start facing people that want to be there for him and even the small things like telling him to just say "leave it to me" when someone asks for help. and then, in the keel arc, he uses the same advice he was given before and gives it to someone else who's also struggling with quite similiar things to him. then there's him learning how to rely on other boys in his class and going to kaji for advice, who's very clearly meant to be kind of a parallel to sakura. kaji's went to somewhat similiar things, he's just further down the path of figuring out who he is, what he can and can't do that sakura is (or at least that was the case when they talked). so he gives sakura advice, one that was given to him before by hiragi when he was struggling as a newly made grade captain who felt like he was wholly undeserving of the trust that people placed in him and felt like he's gonna dissapoint them. he knows exactly what sakura is struggling with so he can help him the way he was helped before, the same way that sakura helped nagato before.

i have a lot more thoughts about this series but they are not sorted out in my brain in any way yet so i'm not gonna say anything more cause this on its own is messy as hell

#wind breaker #sakura haruka #satoru nii #hajime umemiya #kaji ren #i have so many thought abt this series #but i cant express them properly yet #so im just yapping #and thats not even all #like i havent even mentioned tsubaki #or nirei #or togame

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bubbleonice · 1 year ago

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Carlos Sainz / Rebecca Donaldson / Isa Hernaez

So let:s dive into this and see what is going on in this love triangle. and go further deeper into the connections, and whatever else the cards want to tell us.

Carlos:

Justice reversed:

The general meaning of Justice reversed indicates that you are either not getting what you deserve or on the other extreme, are involved in some activities which are causing harm to others. The worst thing about the Justice tarot in reversed position is that you are not even ready to take accountability for your actions.

Justice cards show a certain kind of blame game going on between . The Justice reversed in love and relationship readings is a clear indication that it is because noone is ready to take accountability.

Ace of wands reversed:

indicates trials and tribulations that you will face in the near future. You might not have any direction, which leads to being uninspired or unmotivated. At this point of your life, you might not know what you really want to do. Maybe there has been a sudden and unexpected change and he might be struggling to adjust.

When the Ace of Wands Reverses, we now see a very definite ‘thumbs down’ signal. When the Reversed Ace of Wands appears, we might be looking at a missed opportunity or chance. There are definetely some sort of regret going on here. Time to work on releasing the old so that one can embrace the new. Both you and your life may need a total make-over. So yes, Carlos definetely is struggling with the new and still attached to the old, and needs to release the old in order to embrace the new in his life. He might or might not have convinced others but is it possible he hasn’t convinced himself? Is there a hesitation about the direction he say he want to head in and what he want to do? he might be conflicted and desperately frustrated.He knows he should be doing something, but what that something is he hasen’t got a clue.

8 of pentacles reversed:

The Eight of Pentacles Reversed indicates a lack of commitment. The Eight of Pentacles Reversed can suggest that he is bored in his relationship? Does it all feel like too much hard work? Does he really love his partner (I sould think this apply to his current partner) or is he just with her for the rewards that may be gained?

Isa:

Knight of Swords:

Swords is associated with thought, intellect, mental strength, and integrity. They can also represent conflict, hardship, and misfortune.

Swords is associated with thought, intellect, mental strength, and integrity. They can also represent conflict, hardship, and misfortune. Big moves, impulsive decisions and following your gut, all while keeping your bigger vision in mind, will be the key to success right now.

8 of cups reversed:

Looks like she has some trouble moving on. Her life is afore her, and she`s made every attempt imaginable to stand still. In this denial of life and refusal to move on, she is creating an air of unhealthy habits and behavior around her. Sometimes this card can even highlight being in a state of denial. Plasticity will no longer cut it. Take the time to seek quiet. She needs to bravely turn her attention inward, to any place within her heart that feels empty, insecure or unfulfilled. Self-investment will fill this empty place, not the attainment of something “out there.”

Rebbeca:

9 of pentacles reversed:

gold-digger, marrying for money/ status, sex trafficking/exploitation/work, dishonesty, deceit, theft, property damage, con artist, scams, cheap, superficial, no style. Well, this doesn`t sound good.

This card will appear often for people who are in a relationship for the wrong reasons, for example those who marry for money and status rather than love. It can simply be an indication the relationship has become too focused on the material or superficial aspects of life.

Queen of pentacles:

the Queen of Pentacles represents high social status, prosperity, wealth, luxury, success and financial independence. Pentacles represent coins/money, so again we see a link to money in this connection .

So from reading the cards combined, seems like Carlos and Isa still have some issues. Carlos has his regrets and Isa is in denial. Rebecca on the other hand seems to see this opportunity as a personal financial gain for her. I`m going to pull a few oracle cards to clarify the connections a little bit more.

Carlos:

Time: Im afraid its too late to take action

Unappreciated: I felt like you didn`t care

Isa:

Space: I need more time to think

Hope: I haven`t given up on us yet

Rebecca:

Unsatisfied: I am not happy where things are going

Unworthy: You`re a better person than I am

I guess the cards are pretty self explanatory, but just to clarify my interpretation. Carlos and Isa faced a sudden and unexpected change, and neither one of them is ok with the changes. Carloz feels remorse while Isa is having a hard time moving on. However, they are both trying to do the best they can. She trying to find peace within herself, and him trying to make his new relationship work. Rebecca seems to not be too happy wih how things are progressing. She can feel Carlos slightly distancing himself. And I understand my cards correctly, she is more into this due to money and prestige, and not so much for the love.

I hope you enjoy this reading. And please keep in mind that this is done for entertainment purposes only. I use tarotcards and oracle cards actively in my readings, as well as my intuition. Energies come and go, what is relevant for today’s reading might change in a few weeks time. But some aspects will always remain constant and the same. Thank you.��️

#celebrity tarot #intuitive readings #tarot reading #carlos sainz #isa hernaez #rebecca donaldson #celebrity tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot reading for celebrities

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afterdarkprincess · 3 months ago

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you like that?

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Sami Zayn/Jey Uso Word Count: 1,058 Summary: Jey tells Sami all the things he'll do for him once he becomes double champ

AO3 Link

Back at it again with these two!!! 😁🩵

tag squad: @jeysbvck @imabillyami @elementaldoughnut12 @feelschicken @harmshake @southerngirl41 (If anyone else would like tagged or if I'm forgetting someone please let me know!)

This fic is Explicit and contains: Exhibitionism, Dirty Talk/Fantasies, Hand Jobs, Coming in Pants, etc (Full list on AO3)

Enjoy!!

“And you gon’ be a double champ, Uce. You like that?”

Jey’s hands are still lingering on Sami’s shoulders when the producer calls cut signaling the end of their segment. His fingers drift along the soft lines of the flannel he has on before resting at the base of his neck applying soft gentle pressure.

From the outside it looks innocent enough, they’re both touchy guys, always have been. But Sami feels that secret little thrill in his stomach knowing there’s so much more behind Jey’s touch.

They’ve been able to keep this thing between them under wraps, for now at least. Jey’s family situation is complicated of course, and they’ve decided to just keep this to themselves.

Both of them have been hesitant to give it a label, but Sami has been happier these last few weeks than he can ever remember being.

Jey is… everything he thought he would be and more. Sweet, kind, and fiercely loyal- all the things he’d been to Sami as a brother in the Bloodline and as a friend once he moved to Raw. But now with their desires and feelings known to each other, he’s also discovered a whole new side to Jey that might just kill him.

Jey is insatiable when it comes to his sexual appetite. And by some miracle, Sami is the object of his cravings.

It’s becoming a bit distracting, especially given Jey’s exhibitionist streak.

They’re in a pretty isolated spot, the producer and camera guy having cleared out. There’s voices that carry down the hallway but for the most part they’re alone.

And Jey pulls Sami closer to him until there’s only a few inches between them, the gingers back to his chest.

Jey’s thumbs continue to rub at the sore muscles in slow deliberate circles, and Sami feels hot breath against his ear.

“That feel good, Sami?”

He opens his mouth to respond but his tongue refuses to make words, not when pure pleasure and desire is dripping down his spine. He nods.

“Meant what I said, Uce.” Jey continues, voice low but thick with intensity. “You gon’ look real good with two belts ‘round your waist.”

Jey’s fingers drift down as he speaks, finding the hem of Sami’s shirt and ghosting against the skin underneath. The heat in his stomach grows with each faint touch.

Sami turns to look at him, clocking the grin on Jey’s face immediately. He knows exactly what he’s doing right now.

“Killin’ me, Jey-“ He looks around, they’re still safe but the threat of discovery is certainly there.

“Nah you like it though,” He sticks his tongue out playfully, knowing that it’s driving Sami crazy. His joggers are already beginning to feel tight and he’s just a bit too warm in his flannel.

Sami’s fingers come to the top button, struggling to undo it as his fingers shake. But Jey comes to his rescue, making quick work of the row of buttons. It feels intimate, loving, and it sends his heart fluttering.

“Gon’ take care of you. My Champ.” Jey’s eyes are wide and dark, drinking him in.

Sami watches them flick down, guide Jey’s hands as they free him from the flannel, leaving him in his t-shirt, but he feels far more exposed. “W-what-“ He gulps. “What will you do?”

Feeding this is probably not a good idea, it might get them both fired, but he is all too willing to give in to Jey.

Jey bites his lip, his tongue flicking out for a moment. “Gon’ get you into bed wearin’ nothin’ but those belts, get you laid back all comfy.”

“Yeet,” Sami replies.

“Yeet,” Jey laughs, hands back on Sami’s waist, trailing under his shirt again, bolder this time, pressing his warm hand against Sami’s skin. “Gon’ wear them little shorts you like, give you a show.”

Sami feels his face flush at the thought. The tiny trunks with YEET emblazoned across the back, that cling to Jey’s thick cheeks and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.

“Then what?”

Jey slowly walks them back a few steps, until Sami’s back meets the wall and the younger man is crowding into his space.

“Then…” Jey glances around before getting in close, whispering into Sami’s ear. “Then I’m gon’ take my time, gon’ put my mouth on you, work you til’ you ‘bout to bust. Get yo’ thighs shakin’ with how bad you want it.”

Sami’s fully hard and aching, both mortified and thrilled by the possibility of being caught like this, trapped in Jey’s arms and thoroughly debauched.

He moans softly, “Baby please-“

Jey’s finger covers his lips. “Shhhh. Gotta be patient, Sami. Then once you can’t stand it no more, M’gonna ride you. Hold onto those belts while you fillin’ me up.”

His leg presses between Sami’s thighs, and he can’t stop his hips from rutting against it, providing some much needed relief to his dick. He’d be embarrassed to be this close to the edge already just from Jey’s words, but he can’t really find it in himself to care right now.

“You like that, Sami? Gonna come for me jus’ from hearin’ ‘bout it, right here where erryone can see?” Jey’s hand finds it’s way under the waistband of Sami’s joggers and wraps around him.

A high whine escapes his mouth, it’s too good, too much. Jey smashes their mouths together to cover the noise and Sami shatters apart, coating Jey’s hand and the inside of his sweats with his cum.

Jey kisses him deeply as his muscles tense and shake, holding him steady so Sami’s wobbly knees won’t collapse.

“Got you,” Jey breathes when they part. “Got you, uce.”

Sami takes in a deep breath, reality settling back in. He whips his head around, but there still isn’t a soul around them. They were lucky this time.

“Ugh,” He pulls at the wet front of his sweatpants. “You’re gonna pay for this when we get back to the hotel.”

Jey’s got a shit eating grin on his face, and Sami can’t even pretend to stay mad at him when he smiles like that. “Oh I was plannin’ on that. Let’s get up on outta here- they ain’t need us no more.”

He nods, following Jey closely back to the locker room. Even without the title, he still feels like the champ tonight.

---

Thank you so much for reading!!

#samijey #jeysami #jami #jey uso #sami zayn #wwe fanfiction #wwe ships #my writing

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nerdieforpedro · 1 year ago

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You're not Broken

Frankie Morales x plus size female reader

Fanfiction: Teens and up

Masterlist / Francisco “Catfish” Morales Masterlist

Approx word count: ~2200 (I edited a bit after starting my draft post.)

Warnings: references to smut, descriptions of past violent traumatic events, depression, PTSD, minor physical altercation (wasn't intentional), anxiety, self-deprecation, Fluff at the end

Notes: I'm happy to finally have a fic for Frankie Friday! In many of my fics as of late, the angst has been HEAVY, this one is no exception. I tried to include all the warnings I thought would apply, please let me know if I need to add anything. I think at some point depending on what weird, painful, happy or fun path life has taken you down, we all may feel broken at some point.

We're not, we're just humans in an imperfect world just trying to figure it out.

The same question had been nagging your thoughts for the past month, “Why doesn’t he let me sleep over at his house?” You’d been with your boyfriend Frankie for three months, getting to know each other, having mind-blowing sex and having a great time so you thought. You’d even met his daughter, Camilla, who was an adorable two year old toddler a few times. Frankie would sleep at your place, playing big spoon to your little spoon, his strong arms wrapped around you, his chin and scruffy beard against your shoulder and neck. You’ve been to the man’s house, just haven’t stayed overnight in it. You realize it’s dumb, thinking too hard about this, you’ve only been together three months, it’s not that long, but it’s also not that short either, at least to you. He makes sure you get home safe from your dates and calls to let you know he’s in his house safe.

One night, you decide that tonight you’re going to ask him why, why he doesn’t want you in his house overnight. Frankie doesn’t offer an explanation, only that he didn’t realize that it was that important to you. Instantly, you feel like an idiot for bringing it up. He assures you you’re not and you both go off to bed, sleep soundly and he cooks you breakfast. Slowly, you spend more nights at his house, but it was one particular night within the week you had been staying overnight at Frankie’s house why he was hesitant to have you over.

It turns out, Franscico Morales is a man with layers, like an onion. He hates that analogy because his friend Santiago says it too often and Benny mentions that his feet smell like onions, anyone’s feet would after wearing heavy boots all day with no breathable material. He’s a kind man, a loving partner and a doting father. He was also a soldier in the Special Forces of the US Army. This left him with blemishes on his mind and frayed his soul, he tries to remember he’s not that man anymore and has moved on, left that behind. As a concept, he understands, but his body and soul never forget what he did in the name of his country. Most times, he can keep busy to stave off the intrusive thoughts, the fears, the self-loathing, the guilt of surviving, the blood he can still see on his hands and head shots he made. Even flying, something Frankie loves doing which lead him to the army, reminds him of his past, moving his comrades bodies to and fro, sometimes they were alive, sometimes not. Frankie has talked to some people about it, some at the VA, and those he served with, but it’s a struggle each day. He is happy though, his daughter lights up his world and so do you, his new girlfriend who he does want to see when he wakes up.

Instead, Frankie sometimes sees the faces of those left behind, those who he couldn’t save, other times, it might just be blood or his old comrade Tom on that damn mountain a hole in his fucking head. He doesn’t want to burden you with this quite yet, things are new, they’re good. He can’t bear for you to walk away as others have, scared of him, feeling he’s defective in some way. Even Camila’s mother felt that way about him, she told him he’s a wonderful father but a haunted man that can’t let anyone in. That stuck with Frankie in the subsequent years.

Now he’s here, happy that you’re lying next to him, but wondering when it will happen. When his mind will fail him again and he’ll see the past horrors taunt him once more. Thankfully you’re a heavy sleeper, he was sure that he had woken you at your place when he got up in the middle of the night and went for a walk, sat on the couch, read one of your books, scrolled through his phone and then when he was near exhausted, he climbed back into bed. You were never the wiser though, you’d wake up with that gorgeous smile and ask him how he slept, give him a kiss and ask him what he wanted to eat. It was as it should be, no nightmares, no horrid dreams, no violent visions, maybe he got three or four hours of sleep tops, but it was next to someone who treated him like he was normal. He had found that he slept slightly better at your place so he was hoping to keep that going as long as possible. The veteran would get up to four and a half hours of sleep consecutively at your home

Tonight in Frankie’s house was fine, better then fine actually because once again, he made you say nothing but his name for at least an hour. After you both came down from your highs, your boyfriend wiped you down per his routine. If there was one thing you had learned about Frankie, unless he approves, don’t disrupt his routine. He takes special care to wipe you down first then himself, encourages you to use the bathroom followed by himself. Then the pair of you got into bed, his big spoon to your little spoon. A lovely end to a lovely evening.

Except at one in the morning, you heard whispering. Frankie’s large hands weren’t on your round belly or wide thighs, instead, he had them wrapped around himself as sweat dotted his brow. An unfamiliar grimace was on his face as he mumbled something you couldn’t make out, it didn’t sound like words. You reached to touch his shoulder and he snapped back, he looked at you but his eyes were wide and unfocused. One of his hands grabbed your wrist as he draped you out of bed, he crouched behind the bedroom door. You didn’t say anything at first, shocked by what was happening but you started calling his name, first Frankie which he didn’t answer to, then you tried Francisco, he still gave you nothing. He was rattling off numbers now which were nonsensical. Finally you tried Sergeant Morales which got him to focus on you finally.

It took him a minute, but he recognized you and gasped in horror. Frankie didn’t remember getting out of the bed or grabbing you, ‘a new horror has happened’ he thought as he released your wrist. You actually hadn’t felt your hand for the last few minutes and now that he wasn’t putting any pressure on it, your wrist throbbed in pain, you winced but didn’t want to scare Frankie more than you already assumed that he was. He turned to head toward the kitchen but you stopped him.

“Wait, don’t go. I’m alright Frankie.”

“No you’re not cariño. Look at your wrist…I…”

“You didn’t mean to. I know you would never mean to. Is this…” You paused, taking a deep breath before asking. “Is this why you didn’t want me to sleepover?”

Frankie looks away for a moment, closing his eyes. Is this the moment he loses you? You say it’s fine but like hell it is. He knows your wrist hurts and you’ll be lucky if it doesn’t bruise by morning. You’re one of two people he wanted to be his best self for, you and his daughter, but he’s failed. Shown you what the outcome can be if his mind plays serious enough games with him. He looks into your patient eyes and nods. “Yes. Though not as severe as tonight was, most nights I…I don’t sleep well.”

You surprise him by embracing him, wrapping your soft body against him with your arms around him, massaging his back. “I’m glad I now know Frankie. We’re supposed to be up front with each other right?”

Frankie laid his head on your shoulder, placing a soft kiss on your round shoulder, he was in your arms and felt better, still guilty but better. Maybe you wouldn’t leave right away, he’d have time to convince you to stay at least.

“Frankie, let’s go back to bed, but I’ll be the big spoon this time.” His body stiffened, that was not part of the routine, his regimen with you. Before he could mention this, you’d pulled him back to bed and laid down, patting the pillow beside yourself. The man sighed and laid next to you in bed, giving in to your whim. He rolled on his side and felt your body against his, though your arms, especially your sore wrist didn’t quite make it around him due to the broadness of his back.

“Cariño, I think we should switch positions. Doesn’t your wrist hurt like that?” You knew Frankie wasn’t wrong, it still pulsed with pain, though slightly less since it had been a few minutes. You decided to turn on your back and patted your chest.

“Lay here then. No funny business though, we have work in the morning.” A playful grin spread across your lips. Frankie let out a happy huff and laid his head on your tender breasts as his chest lay across half your plush belly. One hand patted your head, his fingers rubbing your scalp as his other hand squeezed your hip.

“This is a lot better. You sure you can sleep like this though? Are you comfortable?” Your boyfriend asked, that was the man you knew, always concerned for your well being, even when you’re trying to get him settled.

“Yes, I can sleep through you having horrible dreams most nights.” You closed your eyes, realizing that may have been a cutting statement to make, but it was mainly directed at yourself. He’s been suffering like this and you didn’t know, slept happily without a care because you don’t remember your dreams but he does and it’s detrimental for him. “Sorry, I just…I would have tried to help you sooner you know. I get why you didn’t tell me. It’s a hellova thing to deal with Frankie.” You feel his body start to relax and to put more of his weight on you, he’s accepting of the position at least, you’re hopeful that it can get him back to sleep with minimal issue.

“Thank you cariño. I don’t deserve your understanding or your kindness.” A small acknowledgement comes from Frankie, though it makes you frown. He shouldn’t speak of himself that way, it’s not his fault his mind is in this state, it took years to become this. You had an arm that was laying across the pillows, above his shoulder, you bent it to place his scalp in your palm grasping and releasing his soft curls.

With a kiss placed on his forehead you told him, “You’re not broken Frankie. You’re entitled to so much from life. I love you and I won’t hear you talk about yourself like that. You’re too important to me.” A heat rose from your cheeks and spread throughout your body, you might burst into flames. You just told this man you loved him and you’ve only been dating him three months, that seems a bit soon. Even if a real tender moment is happening right now, that could sour it a bit or weird it out. You stayed perfectly still, closing your eyes to avoid the look on his face whatever it was. You worry too much.

Frankie is ecstatic with this turn of events. In fact, he too was wondering if it was too soon. Your plush body he loses himself in, your melodic voice where it always sounds like you’re singing his name, Camilla appeared to like you - she didn’t do the stranger danger and waddle away, you make him laugh, his friends liked you, you were aware of his past transporting discretion and although you didn’t excuse it completely, understood that he was trying to make ends meet at the time, enjoyed how comfortable he could be with you even in silence. Why shouldn’t he tell you that he loves you, especially now that you’ve said it first, though he did want to beat you to that originally. Francisco popped his chin up to look at you, your eyes were closed and he snickered, he had horrible dreams and you spun too many things inside that pretty head of yours.

“Look at me, Cariño,” he waited until you made eye contact with him. This was important after all, “I love you too and I also thought it was too soon. We’re on the same page most of the time. Stop spinning and sleep.” A small peck landed on the top of your breast before he laid his head back down.

Soon both of your respirations slowed and you slept until the morning. Frankie did not wake during the night or need an early morning walk. He had the best sleep he’d had in years. You were ecstatic to see him the next morning actually looking well rested for once, sitting on the side of the bed as he said good morning to you. Your hands pressed against his back as did your cheek - a wonderful start to the day for you both.

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #Frankie morales angst #ptsd #anxiety #frankie morales fluff

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writesaboutdragons · 8 days ago

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365 Promises of God

Day 300 – We Are Being Transformed Into The Same Image

But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord. (2Co 3:18 NKJV)

Read: 2 Corinthians 3

A few years back I picked up a 3D printer and began printing toys and gadgets to use around the house. I was skeptical when I heard about a device that could print ANYTHING in 3D. I was wondering what kind of ink it used. But it doesn’t use ink. It melts plastic and squirts the melted plastic onto a sticky bed that becomes the stand for your object, and when it cools, it’s… well, it’s either a plastic replica, or a pile of plastic spaghetti, and you try again.

I was impressed with the amazing concept of taking a drawing, converting it to a 3D picture, and then printing it in plastic. I printed custom guitar picks and even some puzzle boxes. I printed some clamps and jigs to repair items around the house, like a food processor.

Recently I discovered that engineering has taken this to the next level. For a VERY expensive charge, you can buy a device that will scan a 3D object you place in its range of vision, and without much more in the way of instruction, it can produce an exact copy of that item, in plastic. If you are willing to wait long enough, that is. My 3D printer takes hours to print a tiny brick the size of a matchbox car. I’ve printed items as large as a can of coke, and it’s literally taken DAYS. And that’s if it comes out right the first time. If it doesn’t, you have to start the printer again, and wait ANOTHER couple days.

In fact, the struggle was so painful, my kids bought me a T-shirt that said, “I’m sorry I was late – I had to watch my 3D Printer.” And that’s so true – because, if you are watching closely, you might be able to stop it from messing up that valuable two-day-long job.

I’ve learned some lessons from that experience that apply to this promise today. First, God is transforming us into the likeness of his Son, and this is a process that takes a very long time. You and I would never have the patience to WAIT so long to get a replica of anything, but GOD is willing to WAIT.

Second, that printer required HEAT. A HOT bed that caused the bottom layer to stick where it was supposed to. A nozzle as hot as your broiler to melt the plastic and allow it to apply to the work. God’s transformation also requires heat. You can expect that if you are being transformed into Christ’s likeness, that you are going to spend some time in the fire. Don’t be surprised when God applies some heat to your life. Just stick where you are planted and allow him to change you.

Third, 3D printing requires you to WATCH, in case a flaw or mistake occurs, and you needed to adjust the temperature, or apply a tool to help hold the work back to the heated bed until the replica surrendered to the heat and stuck there. God is always watching, dear Christian, and he cares very much how you turn out. He’s invested decades, perhaps, in crafting you, and you aren’t finished yet. Don’t be surprised if God puts people in your life that influence you to stay the course, to keep the faith. It’s what all of us Christians are called to do for one another, you know. We are called to encourage one another in the faith, and sometimes that’s going to be met with resistance, as our friend and fellow-laborer might desire to get out of the heat.

In our reading today, we find the Apostle Paul beginning with an admonishment that he doesn’t need a recommendation from them to allow him to speak to them of heavenly things. He has been given authority by Christ to preach to them, because they are his love letter to God. He reminds them of how Moses beheld God on the mountain, and then covered his face with a veil, because even that reflected glory of God’s presence was too piercing for the Israelites to look at.

And Moses had ministered to them on tablets of stone the message of the Law, which brings forth death. How much more glorious would be the ministrations and glory of the Spirit, providing grace and life, written on the tablets of hearts?

He ends this chapter with the promise that they ARE being transformed into Christ’s likeness, and this isn’t a transformation written in ink, or in plastic, but in love and grace and by the Spirit. And you know, dear Christian, that this promise isn’t just to them, but to me and you, too.

Prayer:

Lord, thank you for this beautiful promise that you have the patience to wait, love enough to watch, and attention enough to provide people in my life to keep me where I need to be, plugged in and yielded to your loving transformation. May I be a willing servant, today. Amen

#christian #writing #devotional #365 devos #booklr #365 promises of god #chris solaas #authors

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nyoomfruits · 1 year ago

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Hi Ellie!! Good day to you. I just want to pop in to say I love what you have done with Lando and Oscar dynamic in What you do to me. The way Oscar was so nonchalant about giving a "friendly teammate brojob" at first and Lando was totally freaking out inside cuz til then his impression of Oscar had been so cool and collected?? like, thats them!! what Lando has learned from his former older teammates may not apply wholly this time!! and in the end Lando looked back!! hope is there!!

also irl Oscar describes himself as this chillaxing dude allll the time which has me thinking what about the time he is not >:) don't you just wnat to lose your shit sometimes babygirl >:)

Also Oscar is an Aries so as a quasi-interested astrology girl (when it fits my agenda) may I present this article which imo has an interesting description of Aries in bed https://www.sosyncd.com/zodiac-signs-ranked-by-best-in-bed/

My apology in advance for being horny in your ib </3 but I just you know your story was the serotonin I needed today <3

OH MY GOD HI THANK YOU <3

''don't you just wnat to lose your shit sometimes babygirl >:)" anon the numbers you would do in the ggb group chat you have no idea.

but YES oscar being this chill calm go with the flow dude actually being really vocal and intense in the bedroom has me <3

dl;akjsdflk i'm not much of a zodiac girly but the line 'They will do whatever it takes to make sure their partner is fully satisfied.' makes me so !!!! oh my god

DONT WORRY THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR BEING HORNY IN MY IB actually you know what as an extra big thank you have a snippet of the norstri smut i'm currently writing in which oscar is a vampire for no other reason than. fun.

(tw for mentions of blood)

There’s a slight metallic taste to Oscar’s kiss, and Lando can’t help but think ‘that’s me, that’s my blood’, and it should be weird, all of this should be so weird, but all it does is make Lando want more.

“Off,” he mutters, pulling away from the kiss tugging at the bottom of Oscar’s t-shirt. “Off.”

“God, so demanding,” Oscar says, but complies anyway, taking off his shirt in one swift motion. “If I’d known you’d be like this I would have picked a different midnight snack.”

“Midnight snack,” Lando squawks, indignant, as his eyes roam over the expanse of Oscar’s chest. He’s seen him shirtless before, sure, but not like this. Not in the context of what is about to happen. It makes him feel kind of insane. He shakes it off, focuses back on Oscar’s face. “Why are you talking about me like I’m a can of Pringles.” Oscar pulls a face. Lando groans. “Do not tell me I taste like a can of Pringles.”

Oscar laughs. “Don’t worry. You don’t taste like a can of Pringles.” He tugs at Lando’s hoodie as he says it, and Lando guesses it’s only fair. He struggles a bit taking it off, but Oscar helps him, and when he’s free Oscar’s face is suddenly right there.

Never one to waste an opportunity, Lando leans in for another kiss. “Wait,” he suddenly says, pulling away so fast it nearly sends Oscar crashing on top of him. “What do I taste like?”

Oscar’s face is carefully blank as he says, “Nothing important.”

Lando frowns. “What does that mean?”

“Just. That you taste like nothing important.” His nose scrunches up as he says it. It’s endearingly cute.

“Oh my god,” Lando says, as it hits him all of a sudden. “Am I gross?”

Oscar laughs, but when he sees the panicked look on Lando’s face he stops, taking his face in his hands, rubbing his thumb over Lando’s cheek. “Hey, no, don’t worry. You’re not gross. Far from it. Trust me. You taste uh. Really nice.”

#norstri #landoscar #mctwinks #drabble #sort of lmao

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only-one-brain-cell · 2 years ago

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Headcannon time

Personal headcannon that Spencer Reid is biromantic and asexual, personally I think he’s sex neutral. It’s definitely something he would struggle with at first especially since female UnSubs just LOVE to put their hands on him sometimes without his consent🙄🙃 but thats his own journey and even when he does start dating and being in a relationship (because he would only want a monogamous exclusive relationship, anything else is not for him.) Spencer has good days and bad days most days are good but sometimes he just wants to be in his own bubble and for no one to touch him.

Spencer would want to make his partner feel good no matter what so if his partner is “in the mood” then of course Spencer would be down. Growing up being socially awkward he didn’t get a lot of opportunities to date around so he’s still kind of shy when it comes to dating and relationships even asking to kiss his partner much less ask for sex but sometimes he manages to string out a sentence that sounds like he’s implying he wants to have sex, for Spencer it’s not only about making his partner feel good but a way of showing his love and affection for them.

He shows affection in other ways too, usually by spending time with them since the FBI obviously keeps him busy he doesn’t have a lot of free time. Spencer also likes to leave little gifts for them it could be a book they we’re talking about, jewellery if that applies (treats for a certain canine.) Spencer would be great at giving gifts and his partner would always appreciate the time and effort he took to making them feel loved.

His favourite thing to do though is snuggle MAN LOVES TO SNUGGLE. He would occasionally switch but he is a little spoon to a T, oh and if Spencer did just have sex they are going right to the bath to relax. There’s nothing Spencer loves more then to snuggle with his partner in the bath even if nothing happens or has happened he loves the intimacy. He will never get used to compliments though, his face will turn red every time.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #asexual Spencer Reid #criminal minds headcanon #bi romantic Spencer Reid

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unrealwasteland · 2 years ago

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Hello friends! It has come to my attention that there's a shortage of fic rec lists in this fandom*, and as an avid fic reader, I thought I'd try my hand at making some. I was originally going to name this list something like "Roosmav 101" or "A New Shipper's Guide to Roosmav", but quickly realized that this is a very subjective list with some of my personal favorite Roosmav fics. I may be planning to make more rec lists in the future, but can't promise anything at the moment. (*here's one existing rec list that I know of!)

I'm trying to include relevant tags and warnings here, but please take a look at the full tag lists before reading. :)

in between what's already done by crawsley 5k, E, creator chose not to use archive warnings extremely dubious consent, omegaverse, daddy kink

“We aren’t doing this,” Maverick says, firmly, and he’s tensing like he’s about to move, about to shove Rooster off of him, push him away like he pushed him away before, when all Rooster had wanted was some guidance, some help, some love and kindness and— Rooster bears him to the ground, right there on the rug in the entryway.

Reccer's note: Roosmav fandom staple, this one has that delicious dynamic of Rooster taking his anger out on Mav.

seventy minutes by AortaArgent 19k, E, no archive warnings apply dubious consent, angst with a happy ending, implied/referenced child abuse, self-esteem issues, mav/ofc in first chapter

If he were staying on as an instructor, Maverick reflects, Cyclone would probably have to ream him out for employing unnecessary violence, and particularly for ending up in a brawl with civilians. Even if nobody at the unofficial-official Navy bar would side with a bunch of drunken dickheads over their own and report it, the admiral would find out soon enough. He still hasn’t actually told anyone that he’s leaving. With a trail of wreckage behind him again; Rooster’s bruised jaw, half a dishwasher tray of smashed glasses, one pool cue now in two different places in the bar, some yuppie’s no-longer veneered teeth, and his own crumpled dignity. And two crashed F-18s. Three total damaged planes, to be technical about it.

I could recommend any fic by this author, but seventy minutes is extremely important to me and a formative part of my Roosmav fandom experience. This is the fic that made me go from "I like this ship for horny reasons" to "oh shit, I actually love these characters."

Take These Broken Wings by pohjanneito 11k, E, no archive warnings apply time travel, young Maverick/canon era Rooster, emotional hurt/comfort

Bradley leaned against his cue stick, his eyes glued to Mav’s baby-smooth face. It was uncanny, like an old home movie bleeding out of the TV screen. Mav's voice was soft and pitched a little higher, but he carried himself like he did thirty years in the future, with the bravado and ego of a man twice his size. Or: Rooster travels back in time to 1986 and meets young Maverick.

Reading this fic was a very emotional experience, but in a good way. Amazing characterization and writing in general.

We'll be a fine line. by Exorin 16k, E, underage pre-canon, coming of age, grief/mourning, hurt no comfort (check author's note for info about Bradley's age in this)

Bradley really notices Maverick for the first time when he's thirteen. Every year after that is a struggle. OR: 4.5 times Maverick had no idea what was happening and 1.5 times he said “wow, what a terrible idea but I guess we're doing this”

This is a little different from the other fics listed here - there's no happy ending in this one. It works really well as a pre-canon fic though, and the angst is SO GOOD.

Kissing to Trick You by thedastardly 25k, E, creator chose not to use archive warnings extremely dubious consent, eating disorders, vomiting, sub!mav, sub drop, dom drop, no aftercare, injury, mentions of past icemav and hangster

Maverick doesn’t much care if his love line is long or broken, or if his life line intersects somewhere on the mound of his palm with the line of his heart. He’s played too fast and loose with this mortal coil for too long to be concerned about if the universe has foretold his fate in the lines of his hand.

Take those tags seriously - this one is pretty heavy (but definitely worth it in my opinion). There's a happy/hopeful ending and a promise of healing.

your body keeps the score by Lake 23k, E, no archive warnings apply canon divergence, hurt/comfort, physical therapy

Pete gets injured in the Darkstar ejection and the Navy assigns Bradley as his physical therapist.

Classic hurt/comfort where a character's physical recovery mirrors the emotional arc of the fic. Reading this was a life-affirming experience.

the man with the child in his eyes by hazelmotes 3k, E, no archive warnings apply angst, pining, pre-relationship

Rooster fights against the undertow.

Also known as "fic so good I once recced it to a family member" (I don't think they ever read it though, which might be for the best tbh). Truly beautiful writing and I just love the pining in this. Hopeful ending.

and yes I said yes I will Yes by hazelmotes 7.5k, E, no archive warnings apply secret marriage, wedding night, feminization

The window trim is painted the same white as the cabinets, with matching brass hardware to boot. Maverick contemplates the ledge beneath, what it could hold: a small vase of dried flowers, a colored glass catch-all dish. The kind of dish a wife places near the sink to hold her wedding ring, safe from the maw of the garbage disposal. from the kinkmeme prompt: secret marriage, honeymoon/wedding night sex

This fic is soft and tender and emotional and full of love. And the sex is super hot. Warning: it took me a whole weekend to emotionally recover from reading this.

Toxic Pony by yellow_crayon 3.5k, E, no archive warnings apply dubious consent, identity porn, pwp

The kid staring at him across the bar is young, Hawaiian shirt and blue board shorts, aviators pinned to a thin white undershirt, the V of his crooked collar showing a light smattering of freckles over sun-kissed clavicles. Probably some navy admiral's rebellious kid looking for a good time. Maverick's gone through his fair share of them way back when. This one is at least a decade too young for Maverick's current tastes. That ridiculous old-school mustache he's got going on does nothing to hide the signs of youth in the rest of his body — smooth supple skin and the effortless muscle that Maverick has to work hard to keep at his age. "Like what you see?" Maverick says in way of greeting. It's a lot more straightforward than his usual pickup lines, but he's four drinks in and itching to be bent over some flat surface and fucked hard. Something that looks like disbelief flits over the kid's face, then his expression smooths out once more, hardens. He opens his mouth and it's a man's voice that says, "Yeah, I do."

I love a good identity porn story, and yellow_crayon delivers. This is incredibly hot and also a galaxy brained way to write a pre-canon fic.

This Empty Love by yellow_crayon 11k, E, no archive warnings apply hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, intergenerational trauma, Maverick's a+ parenting

He’s sick in the head. Sometime in all those confusing hormonal teenage years after Maverick had left, a wire had crossed somewhere. It's not his dead dad that had messed him up. Bradley doesn't know Nick Bradshaw. Nick Bradshaw is a distant blurry concept that lives in his mother's memories and musty tomes of old faded photographs. He’s not the one Bradley busted his ass to impress growing up; the one he bled and cried for, and whose attention he spent his entire childhood obsessively trying to capture like lightning in a bottle. It’s Maverick. It’s all for Maverick.

This is a companion piece to 'Toxic Pony', but very different tonally. It's beautiful and heartbreaking and probably one of the best written fics I've ever read. I cried a lot.

#top gun maverick #roosmav #fic rec #a lot of hurt/comfort here hahaha #also a lot of bottom!mav because i know what i'm about #rsmv recs

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papercut-chronicles · 2 years ago

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papercuts by gym class heroes (and how it is about a mother-child relationship)

this is my first analysis to be ever put on paper and published! i love to look at details and consider what they can mean, and i’m kinda happy to be doing the first one with a gch song. shoutout to @clubnate for leaving a super simple comment which motivated me a lot to do this, so thank you! i’m also applying they/them pronouns, since the gender of the lyric self isn’t specified.

1) “We met 22 years back / Fresh out the womb / Now she consumes me / No room for self these days”

okay, let’s get some facts together. the official papercuts release date is in 2005, but the song could be written before this year, so it’s acceptable to consider that travie was 22-24 when he wrote the song.

joining the previous fact to when he says they met “fresh out the womb”, this means the person in question knows him since birth. although it can be an expression for a friend or a relative who knows him since he was little, a mother knows more about their child like no one else could.

2. “And she's so demanding / Do this, do that / Don't forget to take your medicine”

this part catches my attention because of intimacy. yes, you can be intimate with someone who came from a whole different place than you, and it’s okay. but the demanding tone, as written before, is so crucial and connects really well with coming off from someone who is older than the speaker. it also shows a kind of “hierarchy” here, since these are all orders directed to the speaker.

3. “I hate it when her face is invading my head again / The welcome mat reads “please take off your shoes” / But she disregards the statement”

things here start to get kind of interesting. not because only know the feminine pronouns (for the person they’re talking about) are obvious, but the fact that the face of said person is invading their head — meaning that, somehow, they had grown up apart from her.

for having these illusions of her face in their head, they saw each other at least once or for very short periods of time. so we can be dealing with an absent or a single mother.

4. “I've grown accustomed to bending my beliefs to / Satisfy her needs / But I'm fed up / With plugging cuts everytime they bleed”

these verses show lots of vulnerability, how sensitive this topic is (and since this happens with such ease, this makes me think they are talking to someone they’re closer with). also, can we talk about how the lyrical self reveals that they had been doing this since they were born and how it feels just like a normal habit for them? we can see that it isn’t a healthy environment for them.

5. “So I dip my pen in the puddle / What a bloody mess its been / Trying to end this struggle”

this is more about the way the speaker responds to the household and their self-destructive attitude than something coming from their mother. you can see that the situation isn’t good, but the lyrical self chooses to hurt themselves even more. it’s also visible that is a conscious decision, even they actively recognize the mess that is being around them as they speak. it’s like seeing something in fire and doing nothing in order to help.

6. “But I love her, / She's the reason for the lesions / Man I love her / I start bleeding when she's leaving”

again, another moment they show themself as someone sensitive (and possibly in a toxic relationship). even despite all the bad things that happened to them in their lifetime by the side of their mother, they still love her no matter what. it’s like they know, deep down, that she has her flaws but still being someone for them to love.

7. “And every scar on my fingertip is a reminder of / All the lessons learned / On my missions to try to find her but / I'll sit alone until she comes back home / And I'll be waiting by the phone”

now, they are conscious of present time and see the marks that she left behind on them. even they try to search her and even learn some things with this journey. but, at the end, they decide to sit alone all by themselves (this is, even without someone they trust) and wait endlessly for her to give any sign of life.

8. “She don't live here no more / I heard she's staying down the street with two dead beat / That don't treat her right with two bad ass kids / Guilt and Regret”

this is a report of a part of their journey to search for their mother. at the address they stop in (which it can be the place they grew or lived the most), they got information about the new life their mother has, with another partner and kids. their names being guilt and regret can be a sign that she never wanted this destiny for herself.

9. “And I'm willing to bet / My last album (that?) she's wishing she was kissing me”

while searching for her day by day, they have a musical career that it’s just in the beginning (as a way to earn money to live). so their last album went kind of popular, since it came to the mother’s ears that the album is from her child, and it makes her wish to be closer to them.

10. “Man the nerve of this bitch / Pardon my French / But it's been 10 days / And I'm getting kind of light headed”

after knowing the new life their mom has, and how easily it seems that she doesn’t miss them, they allow themself to feel. despite the obvious anger inside of them, seeing by the choosing of words they do, they hate to feel like some replaced object.

11. “Maybe I'll write her a letter in a gentleman's way / And send it with the hopes that she might get it”

you can see the anger and hate is no longer strong here, but it’s obvious they didn’t forget about the things they discovered after so many tries. so, thinking more rationally, they come to the conclusion that writing to her is better than randomly appearing at her new place.

12. “I can't believe I let her run all over me / But all I think about is / When she's here and holding me”

this writing phenomenon is brilliant in the context, using the present tense to describe things that happened in the past. it can really indicate how bad they miss them, even after all the hell they went through. it’s a double-sided state because they can be missing their mother, specifically, or just feeling the absence of a maternal figure.

13. “I can't complain / I kind of like the pain / She ain't even got a name / She just lives in my brain”

it is indubitable that their childhood (and present life) are full of traumas from the very first minute of breath. so, as a way of trying to deal, they create the image of their ideal mother in their head to fulfill their feelings. things get messier when the dreams mix up with reality, and they seem to deal with it kind of well. also, the absence of basic information (in this case, of a name) can represent how they lack of motherly love.

14. “She says she loves me / But she comes and goes when she pleases / When the door shuts / It's like another papercut / And now I'm stuck with a hand full of bandaids / Until she comes back around like them ceiling fan blade”

“Claims she loves me / But she cuts me into pieces / When I'm sewed up / Here comes another papercut / Now I'm stuck with a hand full of bandaids / Until she comes back around like them cailing fan blades…”

the chorus is more of a summary of the past they had been through, how their mom comes like flashes in their life and how bad this is hurting them until the present days (represented by the moment they’re talking).

15. the ending (bonus)

“She says she loves me but / She really thinks that I’m an asshole

She says she loves me but / My hands are too big

She says she loves me but / I pick my nose too much

She says she loves me but / She says I never really listen

She says she loves me but / I take too many pills

She says she loves me but / I never pay my bills

She says she loves me but / I wait into the last minute

She says she loves me but / I don’t try hard enough”

i think this lays here, significantly at the end, to act like a vague mention of one time they finally met their mother and talked to her (it isn’t too much important itself, but the speaker shares with us). they show us their mother’s list of excuses to direct all the guilt to them instead of holding herself accountable. they are all nonsense and don’t even connect to the fact that she made a hell of their life and then, left them behind without a single kind of support. not only does it show how much she doesn't care about her child, but how much of guilt-trip she has (and doesn’t mind using it, even if it’s against a child of her).

#gym class heroes #gch #papercuts #the papercut chronicles #song analysis #decaydance #dcdr

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countlessrealities · 1 year ago

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Send “Talk about” and a name for my muse to talk about that person || Accepting !

@mcltiples sent: “Talk about-” Vampire Rick ! { To Mercenary Rick !! }

Jesus fucking Christ.

The question makes Rick want to pinch the bridge of his nose. Is he seriously been asked that? When he's still struggling to wrap his head around the idea that bunch of versions of him have decided to put a fence around a portion of the multiverse, so they could play god?

Yeah, how about no? It's way too early for him to have a proper opinion about...anything of the universe he has ended up in. Not to mention that his host is a goddamn vampire, which is something to add to the equation in that particular case. The only good thing about it all is that his alternate feels like an outcast when faced with their other selves. That's perhaps the only common ground the truly have.

There's also the matter of his past, of how he has stubbornly kept his distances from other sentient being after Diane's death. The mere thought of creating a bond with someone just to end up losing them too...It's unbearable. Living in solitude till the end of his days has always looked much simpler.

But does he still apply now that the circumstances are forcing him to share his life with someone else? Someone who confuses the shit out of him, and not in a good way.

"S-Shit, I...I don't know what to say? I-I don't even know if I like him," he eventually answers, but the shrug that follows the words is a little too stiff to be natural. "I-I mean, don't get me wrong, I-I'm grateful that he took me in and all, e-especially since I have no way to go back, b-but...I'm still confused as fuck. A-About how this...Curve thing works, a-about all these other versions of me, a-about the guy himself too. D-Damn, I don't know if it comes with being a vampire an-and I don't mean to be...racist or whatever, b-but he's really fuckin' weird."

Does that sound mean? Perhaps. His alternate hasn't just saved him for being stuck in an artificial pocket dimension, surrounded by the dead bodies of other versions of them, but he has also given him a place to stay and plenty of patient explanations.

However, Rick has always valued his privacy. Not overly excessively, but enough not to want to wake up with someone crouched at the foot of his bed, just staring holes into his souls. Just as he doesn't like walking in the kitchen to make coffee and find this guy crouching in the shadow like a naughty cat ready to make a mess the moment you turn your back to them.

"...I-It's not all bad or weird. I-I'll give him that," Rick resumes, after a moment.

There's a hint of nervousness in his body language that wasn't there before. It's subtle, betrayed only by the way his fingers pick at the cloth of his pants. "I...T-The last thirty years have been...pointless for me. I-I was just doing stuff while waiting around to die. R-Rick...he kind of changed that. H-He opened up new horizons for me, new...possibilities. S-Sort of forced me to see that there's more, i-if I actively choose it."

It's a complicated path, moving on from guilt and grief. Especially when you have alienated even the people you once called your chosen family. Finding, all of a sudden, with someone who has such a kin interest in you, enough to welcome you in their home and life....It feels unsettling. And he isn't sure he likes the feeling of being wanted, in some fashion, after everything he has caused.

"...I-I still don't appreciate being look at a-as if I was a fuckin' mouth-watering pastry or whatever. N-Not kidding here. T-There's a reason why I put a goddamn force field around my bed."

#[ ic :: Mercenary Rick ]#[ ʸᴼᵁ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᴹᴱ. ᴮᴸᴼᴼᴰ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᵂᴬᵀᴱᴿ :: ᴍᴇʀᴄᴇɴᴀʀʏ ʀɪᴄᴋ & ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ʀɪᴄᴋ ]#[ v. The other side of the kaleidoscope ; across the Curve verse :: Mercenary Rick ]#mcltiples #[[ the poor guy still isn't over the whole 'the multiverse is real' headache ]]#[[ and Vampire Rick isn't making it any easier for him xD ]]#[[ you can see that he minds way less than he says tho x3 ]]

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carbonateddelusion · 2 years ago

Note

You mentioned how noah reacts to Jack coming out, how would the rest of the main cast react?

so!!! I mean sane Jack obviously, because 80s him would never come to terms with it and therefore never actually come out.

Dew literally could not care less. even if Jack wanted bottom surgery (he doesn't) or was gonna transition with hormones (he won't), she'd still be with him. she is 100% fine with it. all that changes for her is that she can try makeup looks on them first before she taints her Pretty Face and sometimes she'll have to remind herself to use they maybe.

ISAAC is super, SUPER giddy. very happy, all warm and fuzzy inside. of course he loves his cis siblings, but being able to bond over being some kind of trans and help Maddie and Jack explore more about their identities always makes him very, very happy. Isaac's the resident LGBT+ expert if you will. they know all the slang, they have the friends, the connections.. :) and even more than just "also trans!!", they're very grateful to be able to experience having another amab trans person in their family to relate to. plus. y'know. new face on which to apply makeup!!!! dress up time !!!

plus, since Isaac is undoubtedly the first person they'd come out to, he's very happy to be able to see that vulnerable side of his big brother that so rarely shows its face. lots of crying and bear hugs. also lots of Jack threatening to punch him if he tells anybody but that's Jack for ya

Eddie? doesn't really care either way- he, like Noah, isn't particularly fond of Jack, so he doesn't like interacting with them all that much and therefore has essentially no relationship with them outside of "they threaten to kill me if I ever break Isaac's heart"

Eli's also has a much less bombastic reaction. it doesn't really CHANGE all that much to him- it's the same person, but now they can share good opaque black lipstick brands. he and Jack are rarely mushy around each other, so it's not like Jack's gonna break down bawling in front of him despite how tightly knit they are, being twins nd all. he's very much "👍" to the whole revelation

Maddie's the interesting one imo... they and Jack have a pretty. strained. relationship. Jack can be quick to anger in certain situations and Maddie likes egging people on/acting like a general shitlord. which results in a lot of teasing, which Jack doesn't appreciate. they still love each other very much, but it's the kind of relationship where you can't be around the person for more than a specific amount of time before losing your shit.

Isaac and Mads discovered their gender shenaniganrey pretty close together so they've had a much longer time to get to properly know themselves in comparison. additionally, Jack still has that major struggle of forming an identity independent of his father. he's a very... lost person. and Maddie is the exact opposite. they've always been sure of who they are, they got on T pretty easily, everything went pretty smoothly.

I think... Jack would never really come out directly to Mads- it'd be something they would find out about second-hand from the rest of the family. which would hurt Mads pretty bad, even though they're aware of why Jack wouldn't feel comfortable telling them. but when they cool down over that, I think it'd make them a decent chunk closer to Jack because now they have something to relate to each other on other than a mutual love of causing problems on purpose. Maddie would have a lot of sympathy for Jack's identity struggles; the whole situation would open their eyes up to a lot of the things he struggles with in general. Maddie can be a pretty self-focused person and tends to ignore the emotional needs of other people, especially Jack because of several previously mentioned factors + the large age gap (Jack's 11 years older than them). so it'd be a pretty Enlightening time.

#ask #anonymous #oc ramblings #oc #my oc #oc: jack #beanie isaac #beanie elijah #maddison #beanie dew

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shytiff · 4 months ago

Text

THOUGHTS ON FREEDIVING / TRYING SOMETHING NEW

Had what felt like an epiphany and really wanted to write something, but as soon as I face a blank page I dont know what to say lol.

I feel like jelly fish is my spirit animal. It has just 2% of stuff and the rest is water. And it passively floats along the water, no thoughts head empty. And there’s no problem with that, its just the way they live.

Novel things/experiences sometimes happen, but it occurred to me rather than initiated by me. First time trying out something new in 2024 was triggered by my work friend. You know, might as well. He applied, so I might as well follow the current and see what happens. Even though in the end I didnt get it, some other events happened as the consequences of me joining this thing. And it led to one another, until I attempted something new together with (and also initiated by) a friend. And I got to converse and hear people’s stories. And I may or may not be going to Bali. All in all, its generally a nice thing (I know its a very-very late observation to have at my age. Pardon the jellyfish-ness)

Cut to this one random day when I was at Dinkes listening to presentations all day, and one IG scroll lead to another. Funnily, there was some point in that month when I felt a bit of quality-time crisis, and as someone who cant stand their own company, I needed to make sure that the months ahead got something, if not hangouts or meet ups. So I browsed some freediving schools (my friend has tried it before so she got some recommendations and tips) and I got on to the waiting list that afternoon. The date of course was still 2 months-ish away. And later at 8 pm the slot was open lol. I dont know if its a marketing tactic or it truly was a nice timing, but I pondered for a bit and ended up paying the down payment that night. I’ve tried scuba diving once, and wanted to try freediving bcs of that one time I was snorkeling but struggling to get underwater. I wanted to know how you swim in the waters, not on the surface.

I was honestly a bit scared, not the most comfortable, with the thought of meeting new people. Life in medicine is not the most accommodating when it comes to meeting new people who -doesnt- work at healthcare. But I thought, it's only 4 sessions, so you can just come and train and go home. It's not really a big deal. Think of it like ACLS or something.

First Session

The original practice venue was Bubbles Dive Center (which was wayyy closer to me than Citos pool). Headed by motorbike, KRL and MRT to Citos and met up with the fellow course people. The coach, who kind of looks like a GP from my place with his thick frame glasses, came with big bags containing fins and wetsuits. The theory sesh was done by the pool side. Mike introduced himself while slipping in some snippets of freediving theory. I had to introduce myself first, along with the reason youre interested in freediving and how did you know the freedive club.

Based on the stories my friend told me, I said to Mike "freediving is a bit masochistic, I think. It really is mind over matter". He agreed on the mind over matter thing and partly disagreed on the masochistic part. I also joked that I won't be pushing myself that much, and while others give 100% id probably do somewhere around 80% lol. He kindly told us that it won't be THAT military-like. Its for recreational purposes, guys. Except if you want to train competitively then he'll do a different program. The first thing I asked was the possible injuries of the sport, in which he replied that he'd experienced almost all of it, so he'll know what to look for and how it felt having to go through that stuff. It's interesting to hear the reasons people want to learn more about this. The singular guy in our group wanted to overcome his fear of water. Others want a 'cheaper' alternative to scuba diving, or wanted to try something new. (spoiler alert: its not that cheap)

The coach explained to us how you properly take a breath to maximize that lung expansion. When he's the one doing it, it kind of reminds me of inflatables being pumped. He's got air tanks for lungs while I basically have a tiny balloon in my thorax lmaoo. (fun fact: apparently you got about 6 Ls of air in your lungs, think about it as 4 big aqua bottles). We tried breath holding on land and got about +-45s ish. When the coach said "we can double that time" I was like "?!?!?"

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xaracosmia · 2 years ago

Text

ꕥ — WELCOME TO NEFE COSMIA, HARUKA SAIKAI. 🌓

ꕥ — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: Amy age: 27 pronouns: She/her ooc contact: frozxnstars (Twitter) other characters in xc: -

ꕥ — IC INFORMATION;

name: Haruka Saikai age: 16 pronouns: she/her series: OC canon point: after ‘reaper’ is unmasked app triggers: (implied) human experimentation, memory manipulation/alteration, death of a mother, comas.

personality:

A rather intelligent young lady with an insatiable curiosity, that about sums Haruka up on a surface level. Yet there’s often more to a person that meets the eye, and it’s often not kind to the person in question to assume as such.

Social interaction was never a strong point for her when she was younger, yet with a group of good friends by her side, it was something she eventually grew out of. While still not the most outgoing and chatty, she can at least hold a conversation- though it does help if the topic of conversation happens to be something she’s interested in, no matter how small the interest is.

Aware of altered and lost memories, she finds it incredibly frustrating. She’d love to remember what was once lost eventually. No matter how scary the truth may be, she wants to find it- though of course, this sentiment can apply to other things, not just in relation to her memories. The situation surrounding her brother in particular as well.

Comparison is something she isn’t a fan of. Her parents, in particular, were both fairly well known in their respective fields, her father especially gaining notoriety thanks to a certain incident that’s often brought into conversation about him. She isn’t her father, and he isn’t her. While their intelligence and curiosity lead them down the same path in the beginning, what she would learn of the tragedy would lead her down a different, better one. Alas, it’s such a comparison that also brings a slight lack of confidence.

While she’s seen many people become rather overconfident upon using powers granted by the dreamscape app, Haruka remains quite level-headed. Instead of using them for her own personal gain, she prefers to use them to aid others, to protect those who are otherwise unable to protect themselves in the face of danger. She tries to avoid using her powers to actually harm another person, yet realizes that at times, she might not have a choice. Even if she would greatly prefer trying to talk things out first.

something your muse struggles with: Confidence. More often than not, she has a tendency to belittle her actions, occasionally thinking ‘there’s always someone better at this than me’, or something to that degree.

your muse’s greatest strength: Bravery. While not wholly aware of it herself, she can be quite brave in the face of danger.

history / background:

For the first five years of her life, Haruka lived a rather normal childhood, though to be honest, she could recall very little. She knew that she had a loving family and for many, that would have been enough.

However, tragedy would soon strike. On a certain day in October, her mother was murdered by an armed intruder, with her father being named a prime suspect for her murder. (Despite the fact that he was nowhere near the family home at the time.) On that same day, Haruka’s older brother, Kyoya, was reported missing.

And on top of everything, Haruka was the one who discovered the body. Though, given how quickly authorities arrived at the family home, it would seem there was more to the incident. Even if the thought never occurred to her until years later.

After the incident, Haruka was sent to live with her aunt in Tokyo. With time, the memory of the incident would fade, her mind repressing the memory.

Two years later, she would see a news story about missing persons. Wanting to find any information on her father and brother’s disappearances, she starts researching online.

Research turns to hacking, hacking turns to stumbling upon information of some ‘top secret project’ her father’s name was listed on. However, the price for stumbling upon such information was a one way ticket to the local police station.

…At least, that’s what she believes to this day. In reality, she was taken to a research facility to ‘help’ work on the so-called top secret project. Alas, her memories of the ordeal were altered, to the point where she could no longer recall what happened. And while the memory erasure certainly wasn’t permanent by any means, she would also meet someone who’s fate would be tied to hers at that time. Someone she would surely reunite with in the future.

————————

At the start of her last year of middle school, she begins to hear rumors of a particular app amongst her classmates, which they had begun to call the ‘Dreamscape app’. A curious little app that allowed users to access a world within dreams, as well as granting special powers within reality itself. Not putting much stock in rumors, she continues on with her day, befriending a new transfer student in her class as well.

Unbeknownst to the girl, somehow she manages to obtain a copy of the app, which was downloaded onto her phone without her knowledge.

That night, she had a rather bizarre dream. An endless void, a strange masked individual wielding some demonic looking spear. They seemed hellbent on defeating her in a fight, yet through the guidance of a strangely familiar voice, she quickly turned the tables with her own set of strange abilities. Just before the dream came to an end, the familiar voice introduced themselves, revealing that they had met Haruka almost 8 years ago. Yet before anything else could be said, Haruka awoke, unable to remember anything from the dream. Save for a strange app she finds on her phone later the next day. That same app that was referred to in the rumors she had heard.

Logic would dictate deleting the strange app and continuing on with her life, yet for some reason… she couldn’t. Though just as she considered hacking into her phone in an attempt to delete the app, a friend of hers offered an explanation into the app, as well as the rumors surrounding it. From the world of dreams, to the strange powers, most were true, yet there was a third thing.

For a few years now, people were falling into unexplainable comas, most simply falling asleep and never reawakening, as if locked in Eternal Sleep. Those investigating the phenomenon theorized that something related to the app was causing it, yet they could not identify anything beyond that. Whether ‘someone’, or ‘something’ was behind it.

In the end, she doesn’t delete the app, yet instead decides to join her friends with solving the mystery, as well as any others they encountered.

For a while now, all the information they had was of a particular group of people who would thwart their investigation attempts at each and every turn. Eventually, the group, a guild by the name of Neo Phoenix, would become their only lead. After all, if they were so insistent on preventing their investigation, it was likely at the behest of someone else, who Haruka and friends assumed was the people who made the app itself.

On occasion, they would also spar with a masked individual they knew only as ‘Reaper’, with one such confrontation ending with one of Haruka’s friends taking an attack meant for her and falling comatose as a result.

Alas, their efforts were in vain. After months and months, they remained on square one. In an attempt to find more leads, one of her friends sets up a website as a means of gathering information, a website she agrees to help moderate. As part of the website, it also had a request board for if anyone who used the Dreamscape app needed any assistance with anything. While the website originally seemed like a complete waste of time, eventually they stumbled upon a goldmine.

A few sets of coordinates. While most of them were too far to travel, the closest was on the outskirts of the city they were in, so they decided to investigate. Their initial research yielded no results, with the company that owned the building being essentially unknown, so they decided to continue their investigation by breaking and entering. Of course, on Haruka’s end this ended in failure as well, yet not all was lost.

With Haruka’s failed infiltration attempt proving to be an accidental distraction, her friend, Shion, was able to obtain some necessary information. Files that allowed them to uncover the identities of the members of Neo Phoenix. Yet upon doing so, they uncover one unlikely name.

Her brother’s.

Hearing that her brother was one of the people they were working against, it was almost heartbreaking to the girl. And yet, somehow it helped her to keep moving forward. She wanted to learn his side of the story, learn of his motivations.

Little did she know, there was still more surrounding this mystery for her to uncover.

Shion also uncovered information about a secret area within The Dreamscape, a kind of ‘observation room’, he called it. So the duo and their friends set out to find it, albeit with a little… hacking. Yet just before they approach the entrance to the ‘observation room’, they’re stopped in their tracks by Reaper. A fight ensues and, by chance, Haruka and friends manage to catch them off guard, breaking their mask in the process.

None of them expected to see Kyoya behind the mask, not even Haruka herself. Yet somehow, this seemed to send the girl into a fit of rage, thinking of the fate that befell her friend months prior.

Alas, before the group could do anything else, all of them are forcefully logged out of The Dreamscape.

And Haruka was left on her own to process this new piece of information. One she wished she never uncovered.

powers / abilities:

Scan: By holding the camera of her phone up to someone, she can see what ‘attribute’ their abilities are. For example, for someone with fire based abilities, it would show ‘fire’. Of course, this can be equally unhelpful. If someone’s abilities are too powerful to be defined (or if someone is otherwise hiding their abilities in any shape or form), the result would simply read ‘UNKNOWN’, or it would cause the screen of her phone to glitch upon viewing the result.

Electricity Generation: Rather self-explanatory. Allows the user to generate and control electricity. Branching from this, Haruka has a few associated abilities:

Flash Step: A backstep or evasion move she can use to avoid danger. Doing so creates an electric barrier that blocks attacks for the duration of the move. She can move at most ten meters in an instant, though the ability has a minute long cooldown.

Electricity Blades: By focusing the electricity into a single shape, she can use it to form a blade. While one’s easy enough to conjure, if she were to make more of them it would take a few moments of concentration for each additional blade. Haruka tends to use one, or two, blades in close range combat, while she uses any others she may have conjured to attack from a distance by controlling their movement telepathically. At most she can have six active at once.

Remote Hacking: Technically, she doesn’t really need this to hack, since she can do it herself, but it makes hacking so much quicker. By manipulating electricity in a device, she can easily bypass any locks or security the device may have in place. Strangely, this doesn’t seem to work on everything.

Status Up: Using this, Haruka can grant an Attack, Defense and/or Speed boost to herself or others. Boosting one stat? The effect wears off after five minutes. All three? Two minutes. Once the ability has been casted, it can’t be used for another ten minutes.

Guardian Shield: Haruka can conjure a barrier in front of her to block one attack every five minutes. She can use this to protect others from attacks, but, well… she needs to get between the attack and the person or people in danger, if that were the case.

Overdrive: A limit breaking ability that greatly boosts Haruka’s stats, as well as granting her the ability to summon an additional two electricity blades (and making them easier to summon as well.). And finally, removing any cooldown on previously used abilities. However, a great power boost comes at a great cost. Upon using this, the effect lasts for ten minutes. Once that ends, she can’t use any of her abilities for 24 hours. Because of that real long cooldown, she tends not to use this unless it’s a last resort.

Augment: A weaker version of the ability above, instead just giving her a slight power boost. Unlike with Overdrive, it doesn’t render her abilities unavailable for 24 hours after it’s use, though the ability wears off after ten minutes and can only be used once a day.

inherent abilities:

Technology prowess: Haruka is really quite skilled with technology, being particularly good at programming and hacking from a young age.

items / weapons:

Cellphone: An ordinary looking smartphone with a cat shaped phone charm. Needed for her to use her abilities- and for summoning her weapon. Also has an ability tied to it, which has been mentioned separately.

Claiomh Solais: A greatsword that somehow found its way into Haruka’s app inventory. Showing up in the app nameless, she named it after the mythological sword of the same name. As far as she’s aware, it doesn’t have any special features save for a faint glowing effect. In reality, it can change its shape, provided it remains ‘sword shaped’ (i.e. greatsword to dagger or rapier), she’s unaware of this at the present moment, however.

starting ability: Electricity Manipulation

starting item: Cellphone

extra:

i say she’s brave but at the same time she’s that ‘i have the bravery of a chicken nugget please don’t’ tumblr post.

also, considering she’s from an original canon i’ve been working on for… several years, i’ve got a mess of different docs floating around about her lore. so, if there’s anything you wanna know, feel free to ask! just know that i likely won’t be willing to discuss anything beyond her canon point.

discord id: lightbound fencer#3549

passcode: girl power took her places she wouldnt even go with a gun

#xc application #mun: amy #nefe cosmia

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