#and also makes me think they did not actually read the books

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 6

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

DEFINETLY NSFW! Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

For somebody that filled her romance novels with plenty of smut… Sky wasn’t exactly as experienced as one may expected. 

Actually…she was woefully inexperienced.

There had been Admon…and Admon it had been.

The rest of the stuff in her books…well, that was just her fantasy wildly spinning stories about how sex should feel. Informed by plenty of books she had read, other authors, and of course…there were the two people that got to read every book she wrote before it was published: Orla, her publisher, and her friend Ressina, who was nice enough to take the pen to every thing she wrote that was woefully inaccurate. 

Because nothing ever felt to her like she portrayed it in the books.

Maybe that was normal. Maybe it was because of course her books portrayed something…better than reality, an escape from it. But still…sometimes Sky had just wondered…

As Azriel carried her towards the bedroom, Sky couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this, she did, more than anything. But the truth was, she was…nervous.

She had written about this moment countless times, had described it in vivid detail in her novels. But now that it was actually happening, she felt…insecure. What if it wasn’t as good in real life as she made it out to be on paper? What if she did disappoint him?

(Sky knew that she had disappointed Admon numerous times…that she seemingly had never been enough for him…had been so bad at it in fact that he had instead slept with her sister…which was a whole other kettle of fish that she really didn’t want ot think to close about right now.)

Sky tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now. 

Azriel was here with her, he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way he looked at her. And yet, that nagging feeling of doubt still lingered.

And then there was the fact while he had admitted to sending his shadows to search for her… Sky was still keeping a rather big secret.

“Az…Azriel…” she said hesitantly.  “There…there is one thing you should know about me.”

Azriel paused, setting Sky down on the bed gently before turning to look at her. 

"Go on," he prompted her gently, taking her hand in his as he sat down next to her and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You can tell me anything, Sky." She believed him. he wouldn’t judge her. She was sure of that as well. 

“You…You k…know how…how I…I write… ro…romance no..novels?” Sky asked him, biting her lip.

Azriel nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I do," he said, leaning in closer to her. "You told me.”

“I…I am Sellyn Drake,” she blurted out.

She had never outright admitted it to another person. 

Ressina had been the one who had send off her first manuscript to be published…and Orla had met with her…these were the two people in existence that knew that Skylar Alden was also Sellyn Drake. And Skylar had always been comfortable with keeping it that way. 

There was no need to tell anybody else. 

Which was why it worked so well, that Ressina was an artist and could paint the bookcovers for her. No need whatsoever to let anybody else see the hesitant first drafts until she was sure this was where she wanted to go. Just Ressina. Just one of her very few friends. If not her only. 

Azriel stared at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "What?" he asked, completely taken aback. "You're...Sellyn Drake?" There was no…outright disbelief in his voice, just shock. 

*We know! We made Master read your books!* the shadows cooed. *Lady Death, The Priestess and The Shopkeeper love them too!*

She had no idea who any of these people were but…

Azriel's eyes widened even further as the shadows spoke up. "You...you knew about this?" he asked them, turning towards the shadows in disbelief. "You knew. That’s why you gave me her books to read!”

This was just getting better and better.

Sky, who had been watching Azriel and the shadows’ exchange with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment, couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Do…Do they always…” she couldn’t even put it into words. 

Azriel sighed. “They like to meddle,” he said darkly. “And this time they were particularly persistent.” He shot a reproachful look at the shadows, who cowered a little under his gaze. "I won't lie, they did manipulate me into reading your books. And when my shadows do something they are rather...convincing."

She swallowed. 

“Did…did you…li…like them at…at least?” Sky asked hesitantly. 

Azriel hesitated for a moment before answering. 

"I...I did," he admitted earnestly. "Your writing...it's brilliant, Sky.” Her heart soared at his words. She treasured them, hoarding them away like a dragon. But he wasn’t done. “The characters, the emotions, the way you make the reader feel everything...it's incredible. I couldn't put them down."

Sky grinned at his words, feeling a swell of pride in her chest. "I…I'm glad you..you li…liked them," she said softly.

*Master especially liked the…*

“Shut. Up.” Azriel snapped, his ears reddening and Sky started laughing. She could just about imagine what the shadows wanted to tell her at that moment. 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to kill them," he muttered under his breath.

"They…they are ju…just try…trying to help you, aren't they?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand in hers. Only now she noticed the violent scars that marred them, the texture of raised and bumpy skin…but she didn’t care. Not one bit.  

*Of course, we are,* the shadows said, like any other idea was simply blasphemous. *We gave Master the best information we could. So that Master would know what you like.*

Sky probably shouldn't find it as adorable as she did. But the lengths they had gone to...the way they had made Azriel read her books so that he would know what she liked...nobody in her life had ever gone to these lengths just to find out what she liked.

"I swear I am not a total creep," Azriel told her with a grimace.

Sky laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No…no, no, you're not," she assured him, squeezing his, hands gently. "I…I ac…actually think it's… quite… sweet. In a weird, sli…slightly invasive kind of way. But sweet nonetheless."

"I think you are the only female that could possible think that," Azriel muttered, glaring at the shadows that didn't seem apologetic in the slightest.

Sky grinned, leaning in closer to him. "It’s… endearing,” she finally settled on. “Maybe even a lit…little bit charming," she promised him earnestly.

Azriel looked at her incredulously, his expression softening a little. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" he asked her.

Sky shook her head. "No. No, I'm not," she said, her voice unwavering. "I…I mean it, Azriel. It iss actually really sweet that you would go to… such lengths just to try to un…understand me better. And you ad…admitted to it. And not just after the mating bond was accepted but within hours of meeting me." 

Azriel didn't keep it a secret, even when he could have, and she would have been none the wiser. 

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I'm not going to question it," he whispered. 

She swallowed. That's what she was thinking. The exact same words. 

Sky pulled him down, letting his forehead rest against hers.

"I know that...that I am supposed to cook you something...but how disappointed would you be if I gave you one of those caramel bonbons in my purse to accept the bond instead?" she asked him softly, meeting his gaze. 

His eyes widened and he stared at her in pure, undiluted wonder. 

"I could not possible be dissappointed by whatever you offered me," Azriel whispered. "But...are you...are you sure?"

"I am being utterly selfish," she whispered. "Yes. I want you." She didn't care that people would have thoughts about it...that she was rushing into this. 

They were probably right. 

But Sky really didn't care. Sky only wanted him. Sky was ready to throw caution overboard and rush into this headfirst without a thought about the consequences, if that meant that she would get her mate.

"Then let's be selfish together," Azriel whispered.

With shaky hands she reached into her purse, finding one of the caramel bonbon she kept in there...unwrapped it out of the paper and then...then she offered it to him, lifting it to his lips.

Azriel looked at the bonbon, then at her, and for a moment she thought he would say something. But then his mouth opened and he took it from her hand... He chewed it, swallowing carefully, his gaze never wavering from hers. For a moment, they stayed suspended in that moment of tension, the only sound their breathing. And then, he leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in his entire world.

A Mating Frenzy had always been protrayed as animalistic in every book she read. So of course, Sky had written the exact same thing.

But it wasn't...not really.

Not for them. 

And being with Azriel was also a far cry from being with Admon...mostly because then it had often been...embarrassing and painful. 

Admon had always found something to criticise on her body...foreplay had been nonexistent, even when she had tried...and while he had been more than willing to use her mouth to find his own pleasure he had never returned that favour.

With Azriel it was different. Every touch, every caress, every kiss made her feel things she had never felt before. It was like her body was coming alive for the first time.

All her senses were heightened, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure, and Sky couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more. No, she needed more. As Azriel trailed kisses down her throat, she arched her back, pressing herself against him, her hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him that she could reach.

"Can I...Can I touch your wings?" she asked breathlessly, not wanting to...cross some unsaid line.

"Please," Azriel breathed out. "Yes, Sky, please." He lifted his wings, extending them out behind him, giving her free rein to touch and explore to her heart's content. As Sky's fingers brushed against the contours of his wings, Azriel let out a low, guttural moan, his wings twitching and shuddering at the sensation. They were massive and pitch black.

"They are beautiful," she whispered, running her hands over the silky black skin, feeling the warmth radiating from them.

He shuddered at her touch, his wings arching and trembling beneath her gentle caress. he leaned his forehead against hers as he gently tipped her back against the bed and she went willingly, wrapping her hands over the gleaming talons at the tip of his wings as she kissed him.

Azriel growled softly in response, his hands sliding up beneath her dress, opening the lacing in one fluid motion. As the dress fell open, revealing her body beneath, Azriel pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, his gaze roaming over her body.

She didn't even have the time to feel self-conscious, not when she was drowning in the waves of desire that shot across their bond from him. Not when her whole body seemingly trembled against his and she kissed him again, opening her mouth to his tongue.

He slipped open the dress and she opened her mouth, halfway ready to tell him how he could get the corset she wore off, but he already opened the lacing. "Why?" he asked her softly, as he saw the red indents left on her body, and she grimaced.

"Claire," she whispered.

She wore corsets usually for support, because her breast could get heavy and painful without the proper support...but she never laced them as tightly as she did when she saw her family. Or her sister. Then she pulled them tight, trying to squash her body to be something…something her family could stomach, something they maybe wouldn't comment on...she always failed.

Azriel hissed softly, his fingers lightly tracing the red marks on her skin. She knew that they looked horrible, and yet he looked...angered? Almost furious. His expression softened as he looked back into her eyes, his fingers gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why would you do something like that to yourself, Sky?" he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "You are beautiful. You don't need to change anything about your body." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to a particularly hard imprint the corset had left.

Sky swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat as emotion welled up in her chest. No one had ever said something like that to her, had ever made her feel like she was good enough just the way she was. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just nodded, feeling a single tear slip down her cheek. Azriel wiped it away with his thumb, his other hand coming up to cup her face tenderly.

"You are perfect," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Just the way you are. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise. Not even your family." Sky leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and just focusing on the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of being cherished and protected.

With every word he spoke, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders, her fears and insecurities melting away. She realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly saw her, the real her. Who accepted her exactly as she was, flaws and all.

It was so easy to sink into that. So easy to trust him. So easy to just kiss him, as she pushed the shirt he wore over his shoulders...to feel acres of gold skin, dotted with scars and dark markings...to bare him for her view and see how utterly gorgeous her mate was.

He growled softy as she ran her hand down his chest, tracing the scars that marked his skin. His body was a tapestry of pain and survival, yet she wasn't deterred. She only found him more beautiful for it.

"Mine," she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, to one particularly nasty scar. "All mine." She could feel his heart pounding beneath her lips, the steady beat matching the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Her hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, until she reached the waistband of his trousers.

It was so easy.

So easy, to shed clothing until they were bare...so easy to press against him and feel warm, perfect skin...so easy to relax underneath him as he stretched over her...so easy to simply cup his face as she kissed him...as her legs wrapped around his hips and he groaned and she whimpered as she felt him...hot and hard and huge, pressing against her...She was dripping wet without him even laying as single finger on her beneath the waist.

Azriel didn't look unaffected, his breath coming in ragged pants, his eyes fixed on hers as they were blown wide and dark with want. He didn't move, didn't kiss her, didn't pull her closer. He only waited. Waited for her. 

"I need you," she whimpered. "Please. Please, Az." He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hips rocking gently against her, teasing them both with the heat and friction between them.

Nothing hurt. Nothing ever even threatened to hurt...Even as she could feel him notch against her there...even when she could feel herself lewdly stretched open on his cock...

It was so soft and gentle and sweet and…

It was everything Sky had ever wanted. 

Not the rough kind of fucking...not the animalistic coupling she wrote half the time...but she had wanted this. She had wanted sweetness and adoration and...love...and to be wrapped up in her mate's arms like she was a precious, precious thing. She had wanted whispered praised against her skin and to be touched like she mattered...

"Sky," he whispered, his hands running up her side, his touch was soft and soothing, worshipping her body. He kissed her, slowly, deeply, and there was something...almost overwhelming about it.

About the way he made her feel. The way he made her feel loved and adored. The way he made her feel cherished. Her hands wandered up to his back, tracing the muscles shifting beneath scarred, scarred skin.

She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his body as he held himself back, but still, he moved in slow and gentle thrusts, taking his time. He worshipped her - every little gasp and moan, every curve of her body. He traced her shape with his fingertips and lips, exploring her as though he was trying to memorize every inch of her body.

She didn't know how long they stayed that way, their bodies as one, but Sky didn't care. She was surrounded by him - the heat of his skin, the sound of his breath, the way he whispered her name like a prayer. Sky could feel the love and devotion pouring through the bond, washing over her in waves, and she knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be. With him, in his arms, completely and utterly whole.

It nearly came as a shock as she came.

A breathless moan fell from her lips as her orgasm rushed over her, her body arching as she called out his name. He kissed her through it, murmuring praise against her lips as he held her close, his own release following soon after.

They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, both of them breathless and sated. Azriel's wings slowly wrapped around them, cocooning them in a warm, protective embrace that made Sky feel safe and cherished in a way she had never experienced before.

***

There was not one inch of his mate's body that wasn't utterly beautiful. From the tips of her arched ears, to her beautiful eyes...to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist and the soft flesh of her belly and the flare of her hips...she smelled so good too...especially now that their scents had started to mix, and he could breath in caramel and hazelnuts and cedars and the sweet, beautiful scent of happiness as she laid underneath him. His head was bedded on her stomach, as she drew short fingernails through his messy dark hair. He nearly wanted to start to purr as she scratched at his scalp.

Azriel felt...content.

More content than he ever remembered feeling. He was wrapped up in her, his mate, with her gentle hands in his hair, and he felt utterly and completely at peace. He didn't care if they never moved from that bed again. He didn't care if the world outside their little cocoon burned. So long as she was by his side, he was content. He had never felt like this before. He had never felt this...happy. This...whole.

"I need to go feed Hector," Sky told him softly, trailing her fingers through his hair.

"Can I just have the shadows kidnap him and bring him here?" he asked, not wanting to move.

"You can't go kidnapping my cat, Az," she chided him gently, but even as she said the words, she didn't stop drawing her fingers through his hair, and Azriel didn't move. He was far too comfortable.

"Why not?" he complained.

"You'll terrify him," she said with a laugh. "Besides, do you have cat food here?"

"I'll have the shadows find some Tuna," he mumbled.

"Do…Do they just ac…acquire whatever you tell them to?" she asked him with some amusement. 

And lots of things he didn't tell them to, as well. They thought he didn’t know. 

Azriel raised himself on his forearms, looking down at Sky with a glint in his eye. "You have no idea how many things I've acquired that way," he told her with a grin.

She lifted her hands, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down towards her, resting her forehead against his. "You're a menace," she murmured against his lips.

"Your menace," he replied, kissing her softly.

Sky smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips that made his chest feel tight. "Mine," she agreed, her voice soft. "But no kidnap…kidnapping my cat. He's at home."

"We could make this our home," he protested softly. "Move in with me."

Azriel had no fucking clue what was even coming over him. They should have slowed down, stopped to think...but neither of them seemed to want to.

They just…they seemed utterly content to crash through what other people considered a normal timeline and just be together right now. 

He just wanted to be near her. He wanted to share a life with her, a home. He wanted to curl up with her in front of the fire on a cold winter's night, and spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with her. He wanted to take her flying, and watch as she wrote and listened to her read the words she wrote. 

And he wanted - Gods, he wanted her to want that too. He held his breath as he waited for her response.

For a moment, she was silent, and Azriel wondered if he had stepped too far, asked too much too soon. 

But then, Sky smiled again, her eyes sparkling with emotions. 

"...Al…Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll…I’ll move in with you." 

Azriel couldn't help but grin as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Really? You mean it?" he asked, still unable to believe his ears.

"Really," she echoed with a laugh, before her expression turned serious. "But I…I have one co…condition." 

Azriel raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "What is it?"

"If I move in with you..." she began, wrapping her arms around his neck. "All my books need to come to," she told him seriously.

Azriel laughed, leaning back in to kiss her softly. "All your books can come, if that's what you want," he said. "As long as you're here, I don't care what else you bring."

And then the shadows unceremoniously dumped a screeching demon on the bed with them.

Sky let out a surprised yelp as Hector landed next to them with a thud, quickly scrambling away from the cat - and from under Azriel's weight. Azriel, for his part, sprang up, his wings flaring out in alarm. For several long moments, the three of them just stared at each other. Hector, his mismatched eyes glowing, his fur puffed up to twice it’s normal size, and Sky, her expression a mixture of surprise and affection as she looked at her pet. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Well, that's one way to introduce the two of you. Az, meet Hector."

...Gods, the shadows had really not been lying when they said that the cat was the ugliest thing they had ever seen.

Azriel slowly lowered his wings, eyeing the creature that was half-cat and half-demon. "He...looks like he wants to kill me," he said slowly.

Sky laughed, reaching out to scratch Hector's head. "He's just grumpy because he got teleported here so suddenly," she told him. "And he's not used to strangers." Hector's fur slowly flattened, and he began to purr, rubbing his head against Sky's hand. "Besides, he'd never hurt anyone," she added, looking up at Azriel with a smile.

Somehow Azriel highly doubted that.

Sky picked Hector up, cradling the cat in her arms as his purring grew louder. "See? He's not so bad," she told Azriel, moving towards him, and Azriel had to resist the urge to back away. "Hold out your hand, let him sniff you. He just needs to get used to you."

Azriel hesitantly held out his hand, trying his best to ignore the way Hector's eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light. After a moment, Hector moved forward, sniffing at Azriel's hand. Azriel felt the soft brush of whiskers against the palm of his hand, and Hector nudged his head against him, purring louder.

"See, he loves you!" Sky said enthusiastically

Azriel let out a laugh, slowly scratching the top of Hector's head. "I think he's just trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he scratches my eyes out, you know."

She rolled her eyes, "You are the most handsome cat I know," she cooed at him. "And you won't ever scratch out Azriel's eyes. No, you won't.”

Azriel would not quite go as far as describe the cat as handsome...but then...his own scarred hands weren't particularly beautiful either.

So Hector and him had that in common.

And the fact that they both wanted to cuddle with Sky. Actually, he was pretty sure that the cat hated him just for taking away his monopoly on that.

But Azriel would have shared a house with the King of Hybern if that meant that he got to have Sky in his bed.

She smiled at him, her eyes warm and adoring. "I knew you two would hit it off," she said, holding Hector in the crook of her arm. The cat stared at Azriel for a moment, as if sizing him up, before leaping off Sky's lap and disappearing under the bed with a soft patter of paws. "He'll warm up to you eventually," Sky assured him, but Azriel wasn't so sure about that.

He pulled Sky in closer to him, slipping back underneath the sheets with her, kissing her forehead. "I'll win him over, eventually," he promised her. At least, he hoped he would - he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of having to wake up with his throat being sliced open by an angry cat.

He would buy that damn cat all the Tuna in the world if that made Sky happy.

[white--moon]

He thinks Ichigo could come up with something if he tried, but he nods. "Sound strategy. Could write about anything you want if you mask it as fiction. When you do and it publishes, lemme know so I can buy it." He'd probably even try to sit down long enough, sober enough, to read it. He snorts a dry, humorless laugh at Ichigo calling him a dumbass. "You're right. I'm a dealer, but I'm also a menace and a danger to society." He's mostly kidding. He doesn't care about society as a whole enough to think of himself as a menace or anything else to it. Ichigo really thinks highly of him and he's not sure what he ever did to cultivate that opinion. His brows arch a little. "You're gonna write your book about me? Or about misunderstood drug dealers in general? Either way, I'm flattered."

He glances over, amused by that muttered confession. Seems like maybe Ichigo's not getting much. Or maybe just not as much as he'd like. "I'd say yes to you all the time and I'm definitely the hottest guy you know." Well... "Except maybe Grimmjow but just ignore that."

That's still not much of an answer. It might actually be even less of an answer than the first thing Ichigo said. He does know what Ichigo means, though, and he sighs about it. His nerves and everything else are a little too frayed around the edges to be couth. "Only one stopin' us is you." Ichigo probably already knows that, though, and he certainly doesn't need to hear it said aloud. What are they even doing to each other by spending this time together? Torture, that's what it is. Mutual, consensual torture.

His brows furrow, half in offense and half in confusion about how Ichigo went from asking if he needs to make himself scarce so Shiro can have his guy around to saying he couldn't care less about if it works out for Shiro or not. "Suuure," He drawls, "But you kinda just answered your own question. Who's gonna be around? Not you. Not your problem. And I don't need a babysitter, I don't need to be watched and looked after." Yes he does. That question's not a lecture but it sure does get the same point across. He knows Ichigo's disappointed in him. "Both, probably."

He snorts. "Not just bodies. You think I have two houses and five-" fuck. "four cars by movin' the same amount of product around? And no one looks twice. This thing is so boring it's like camouflage."

"Oh, you were bein' a smartass?" There's a heavy dose of sarcasm in his tone while he rolls his eyes. But it's good to hear that Ichigo is still thinking of his sisters in this. Ever the protector. Has to make sure his sisters are alright, had to interrupt his own life to make sure Shiro gets through this treat.

He smirks slightly about that. "What would it be about? What it's like runnin' around the streets doin' everyone else's dirty work?" He scoffs, but it's good natured. "Whatever, I'm not that hard to figure out. How to understand a back alley drug dealer for dummies." He laughs, amusing himself.

Aiming a look at Ichigo, he arches a brow and disagrees. "I always need a bunch a' guys saying yes to me. Preferably hot ones." Not that he's sleeping with his staff. He tried that exactly twice. The first time was disastrously annoying and it was not a fluke.

It is a fair question, and he wants to argue that, but Ichigo keeps going to answer the question anyway. "I wasn't asking what you think, I was asking exactly what I asked." But he got Ichigo's option anyway and it doesn't surprise him. He notes that Ichigo didn't actually say yes or no to wanting him there, though. He's talking around the answer the same way Shiro did about the shirt. "I already plan on laying low for a while. As much as I can, at least. I think I'll stay in the penthouse for a while. It's a lot safer than the mansion but it'll seem less like hiding." And he can higher some muscle to keep around easy enough, like Ichigo's suggesting, he's stubborn about it. He has always been his own muscle. He's never needed security or guards, but this is getting bigger than he can handle on his own. It's getting bigger than he thinks he warrants, but he has made himself notoriously hard to get rid of.

He doesn't know how to feel about Ichigo trying to keep him and his maybe-boyfriend situation intact. It's good of him, it's the morally right thing to do. The only real problem with it Shiro has is that it's just further proof that he and Ichigo have no chance of being together again. "I'll figure things out with him, you don't need to worry about it." Or he wont. Maybe he'll sabotage his own building relationship and blame it on all the chaos of attempted assassination. His features even out. "All my habits?" This better not turn into a lecture. "He thinks I indulge a little too much sometimes, but otherwise he tolerates it. I doubt he expected anything less from a dealer. Most people don't know I was ever clean, only you. It was always weird for me not to use the product I was sellin'."

He slides into the driver seat and starts the car, then looks over at Ichigo and snorts. "You mean boring?" He shrugs. "I needed something with more cargo space that didn't stand out so much. It's easier to clean, too. Less work for my cleaner."

[tkwrites]

Okay I'm done now and heading to bed, one last question.

Can you name a favourite fic for each of the boys?

Hi my Lovely,

There are quite a few of your asks I haven't answered, but please know I'm not ignoring them. They'll just take a little more time to respond to.

I can tell you my favorite fics, though:

Matthew Tkachuk - Back To You because it's such a complete story. I love the way he and Jessie meet, lose each other, and then are thrown together by fate again. I also feel like I really captured that sassy side of Matthew's personality in this fic, which I was really worried about at the time I was writing it. This is also the story that I think would be easiest to flesh out into a full length novel.

Nico Hischier - I love all the parts of his story for different reasons, but I think It Doesn't Matter Part II is my favorite. I had actually written the whole sequence of nude sketches for another character, but ended up scrapping the whole story because I couldn't find any real conflict for them to resolve. When I realized I could use it for Nico and Lena if she was an artist, I was thrilled and got to work rewriting it for them. In the end, the only things that stayed the same were 5 of the 6 poses. Getting into and out of them changed, as did the characters relating to each other during them. I love all the longing and awkward tension between them in this piece, as well as how they finally end up confessing their love for each other. Finally, the culmination of all of their longing into the final sex scene? Chefs kiss.

Quinn Hughes - This one is so hard. I've written so much about Quinn and Sarah and I love all of the pieces for one reason or another. If I had to pick three favorites, they would be:

1). Five Days of Joy because I'm so proud of this fic. It took SO long to write, but I love the way it turned out. I love that we go through so many consecutive days and such a gamut of emotions with Sarah and Quinn.

2). The Second Time is Better because I love the portrayal of a more real first time. One of the things that drives me batty about romance novels is how the characters get together and always seem to have this instantly amazing sexual connection. No room for human failing or first time jitters. In reality, it takes time to build sexual chemistry and connection, and I went into this piece wanting to show at least some of that.

and 3). Second Nature because I think it has the prettiest prose. I still think this passage is some of the best writing I've ever done:

This was ultimate flirting in Quinn’s book. Something he knew he could do. When someone wanted to talk about music, or art or classic cars, he was a fish out of water. But talking hockey? He could do that all day long. Convincing someone to like the sport he loved so much? There wasn't a more ideal situation. 

“Oh, good,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him. 

This was a perfect evening. Casual and comfortable. Cooking for someone he - liked, and kissing her whenever he wanted, taking no worry of who might be watching. 

Letting himself get swept up in the kiss, he slid his hands over her hips and tried to commit her scent to memory. No matter what happened - though he was pretty sure nothing bad was ever going to happen with Sarah - he wanted to remember this. She smelled like a dream he’d had as a boy. Like vanilla and warm skin and fireside, summer nights. It was an outlandish notion, but he couldn’t shake it. 

All her life, Sarah had read stories about star-crossed, fated lovers thrown together by chance and circumstance and serendipity. But those were all just stories. Even when her grandpa talked about meeting her grandma - like they were always meant to be together, and just had to find each other to make it happen - it seemed like folklore. A tall tale he spun to make their love story seem more epic. 

After writing all this out, I realized perhaps you meant favorite writing from other authors. Let me know if that's something you'd like me to answer.

[captaincorgi128]

On Christmas Day of 2018, I received a paperback copy of George Orwell's 1984. I was 12 years old.

I remember the adults - aunts and uncles, parents, grandparents, looking at me cautiously, as if they had handed me a live bomb rather than a book. "That's a very intense book, okay?" my father told me. "If you want, we can talk about it after you read it." 12-year-old me, with only a dim idea of what fascism actually was and an insatiable appetite for books, only nodded.

While my younger cousins and sister played with their new toys, I sat on the couch and read the book in one sitting. When I finished, I looked up to see the adults staring at me with a strange sort of fascination. "Do you want to talk about it?" my father asked.

"No." I shrugged and turned away.

The truth was, I had been expecting a happy ending. Winston Smith was the good guy, wasn't he? Why didn't he win? Evil governments always lost in the end, didn't they? How could Winston have been brainwashed into believing such an evil, awful dictatorship was truly great? After all, when my middle school history teachers talked about dictatorships, those of Hitler and Stalin, it was obvious that they were the worst of the worst. No one actually agreed with them, did they?

Then I remembered my fourth grade class talking about the upcoming election, laughing about how obviously stupid Trump's wall idea was, and how strange it felt to hear someone say Clinton was worse. I don't remember his reasoning, but I distinctly remember thinking it was dumb because what could be dumber than a giant wall around Mexico? I remembered my grandmother arguing against vaccinating children, and I remembered flat Earthers I had seen online. That day was the first time it clicked for me: people believe what they want to believe.

The years passed. I read 1984 again, and again, and again. I watched as Trump shut down the government for sake of a temper tantrum, as he was impeached, as he told Americans to object bleach, as he politicized a pandemic and let thousands die. I didn't know about his SA scandals. I didn't know he had called Mexicans "thieves and rapists." I just knew he could not be allowed to be president again.

Yet, when 2020 rolled around, I was only 14 years old and could not vote. I settled for watching anxiously as the votes came in - I didn't know much about Joe Biden, but he was clearly a better alternative. He actually believed the COVID-19 pandemic was real, for one. So I sighed in relief as the results came through four days later: Joe Biden had been elected president of the United States.

I kept watching. I watched as Trump incited insurrection, as terrorists stormed the Capitol. I stared in horror at the TV. How could this have happened? How were so many people so delusional?

In December 2021, for my sophomore year English class, I read 1984 again. I thought of January 6th.

My classmates thought it boring, confusing, stupid. It didn't make sense. What did it matter? Who cared whether or not we knew the significance of the character of O'Brien?

I kept watching. The summer before my junior year of high school, just before I entered a relationship with my now-partner, Roe v. Wade was overturned, and I felt a sinking pit in my stomach. Six months later, a friend of mine read 1984 for that same English class, and he loved it - we had a few intense study hall discussions about the nature of doublespeak, of totalitarianism, of a surveillance state. My partner agreed, reading it with a terrified fascination.

I kept watching. I realized I was nonbinary, and I watched in horror as the Republican Party made their creeping advances to eradicate trans rights. Idly, I reread 1984. What the right wanted did seem a lot like Oceania's government, didn't it? I wondered if I'd ever be able to marry my partner, who, despite also being trans, was still the same sex as me. If Trump ran again, he'd probably win, and then what would we do?

Then, 2024. Trump won the primaries in a landslide. I turned 18 and registered to vote. In the meantime, I skimmed Project 2025's bits about banning pornography and thought of 1984 and its carefully curated sexless society, created to achieve perfect complacency. I went off to college and voted absentee, carefully bubbling in the circle next to Vice President Kamala Harris's name. I woke up on Wednesday, November 6th to see Trump had won the presidency.

It has been one week. Again, I watch as Trump proposes a Department of Government Efficiency, which sounds euphemistically horrific. I watch as he suggests Musk to head it, a man known for being as inefficient as possible. I think of the Ministry of Truth and how its entire purpose was to disseminate lies. I watch as people celebrate, mocking me and many others who had desperately voted against a fascist, a rapist, a convicted criminal, a man who would kill us and spit on our graves if he was elected to office. I think of Parsons and duckspeak, the practice of simply spitting out the "correct" propaganda the same way a duck quacked. People really did believe what they wanted to believe, didn't they? I realize Trump won because, deep down, people hated minorities more than they loved democracy.

I hope my loved ones and I will survive another Trump presidency. I hope those in Gaza and Ukraine will survive it too, along with so many others - Jews, POC, immigrants, students, disabled, Muslims. At the very least, I hope to live long enough to watch as the bigots are forced to eat their own words and come to terms with the fact they gleefully voted in their own downfall.

At the end of the day, 1984 taught me something I could not have comprehended at age 12, 14, 15, or 16, but can understand now: democracy dies not with a bang, but with a whimper.

[laviefantasie]

Video 4

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The sun is setting over the jujutsu high compound, casting warm hues across the courtyard. Inside one of the quieter rooms, Y/N is setting up a small easel, your canvas ready for the first stroke. Brushes, tubes of paint, and a small ceramic bowl of water are neatly arranged beside you. Suguru is already there, sleeves rolled up, looking as if he’s about to become the next world renowned artist. His hair is a little more disheveled than usual, but the slight smirk on his face tells you he is comfortable.

“Alright, the camera is on and focused and I’m setting up my canvas for real this time. You sure you want to join me, Suguru? You’re not really the type to sit still for long”

Suguru chuckles softly, picking up a brush and dipping it into a warm shade of blue.

“It’s called expanding my horizons, Y/N. Plus, I thought you could use a little company”

You nod, smiling as you adjust your canvas, although a teasing twink appears in your bright E/C eyes.

“If we’re doing this, though, don’t turn it into a competition” you remind him, “No ‘who can paint better’ nonsense”

Suguru gives you a lazy, amused grim, clearly enjoying the thought of teasing you while painting.

“No promises” he smirks “But I’ll try my best to make something that doesn’t end in chaos”

Both of you dip your brushes into your chosen colors and start painting. But just as the two of you start getting into the flow of it—Suguru’s brush strokes deliberate and calm, yours more spontaneous and bright—a loud crash interrupts the settled peace.

The door flies open and Gojo Satoru enters with an exaggerated flourish, sunglasses on, and a pout plastered on his face.

“Hey, hey! What is this? You two started a painting party without me!” He whines, “I thought we were friends, Y/N!”

Suguru raises an eyebrow as Satoru dramatically collapses on the floor, looking up to the ceiling with a hand over his heart.

“Did you just… fall in through the door for dramatic effect?” Suguru asks.

Satoru grins widely, “I’m just adding some flair, Suguru. How else do you think I should enter? Also, where’s my invite? I thought we were the three musketeers”

You stifled a laugh, trying to focus on your work, but the camera didn’t forget to capture the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Sorry not sorry, Satoru” you say, “Didn’t think you were the type to sit still and paint. I figured you’d be too busy doing something… important, like annoying people or emptying another dessert shop”

Satoru sats up immediately, and dramatically, throwing his arms out as if wounded.

“Ouch! Is that how you see me? That hurts. I’m offended! I’m a man of taste and class, I’d totally be amazing at painting”

Suguru shakes his head with an amused smile, muttering knowingly to himself as he mixes some paint.

“You wouldn’t last five minutes without making a mess”

Satoru ignores him, “You know, I’m actually artistic. I’m like… a modern-day Picasso. Or Van Gogh—except I have my ears intact”

You turn to glance a him, skepticism on your face.

“Sure. And you’ve definitely read all kinds of art history books, right?”

Satoru winks at her playfully, “Well, I don’t read, but I’m sure I could paint circles around both of you”

Suguru rolls his eyes but, apparently done with Satoru’s antics, offers him a brush.

“Fine. If you’re so confident, you can join us” he relents, “But I’m warning you, we’re professionals here”

The three of them get to work, and immediately, Satoru begins to disrupt everything. You are trying to focus on a landscape with some subtle blending, while Suguru’s painting a more intricate figure. Meanwhile, Satoru is working on his own ‘masterpiece’, which mostly involves scribbling random, chaotic shapes with his brush, his colors clashing wildly with everyone else’s.

Satoru holds up his canvas proudly, “Look, I’m totally channeling my inner abstract genius! It’s a representation of freedom, of rebellion! What do you think?”

You stares at the chaotic mess in front of you, the blue and red clashing violently. You snort, holding back a laugh.

“You’re an actual disaster. It looks like a toddler dipped a paintbrush in a jar of chaos and went wild”

“It’s art” he states, grinning widely.

Suguru chuckles, setting his brush down for a second as he glances over.

“It’s definitely something. Not sure if it’s art, though”

Satoru sticks his tongue out at him before turning back to you, his expression suddenly shifting to something more playful. He walks over to your easel, leaning casually over your shoulder, his face close enough that you can feel the heat of his body.

“But, you know, you’re missing one thing in your painting, Y/N”

You raise an eyebrow, not sure whether you should be annoyed or entertained.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

Satoru leans in just a little closer, his voice lowering to a teasing tone.

“A little bit of me. A masterpiece can’t be complete without a dash of perfection”

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks turn a light pink against your better judgement. You can never tell if he’s being serious or just trying to get under your skin.

You grab a paintbrush, quickly flicking a spot of green paint onto Satoru’s shirt.

“There. Now it’s perfect” you smirk.

Satoru stares at the green stain, his mouth falling open in mock horror.

“You’ve ruined me. Ruined my shirt. My image. I’m a tragic artist now”

Suguru laughs from his corner of the room, shaking his head at the two of you.

“You both are insufferable. Seriously, how do you guys even manage to get anything done together?” Suguru asks.

You let out a laugh, “It’s called balance, Suguru. I paint, and Satoru provides chaos”

Satoru dramatically flops onto the floor again, spreading his arms out as if he’s defeated.

“You know, this could’ve been a perfect group activity if it weren’t for you two conspiring against my genius”

Suguru raises a brow, amused, “You are a genius—just not in the way you think you are”

After a few more hours of chaotic painting, in which a lot of paint ended up in both Satoru’s and your clothes, the three of you step back and admire each of your works.

Satoru’s piece now has a mix of random scribbles and strange shapes, while Suguru’s work is meticulously detailed, with deep serene colored forming a landscape. Yours is a bright piece, a playful interpretation of the sky, with clouds hues of purple and pink—vibrant and dreamy.

You stare at the painting for a few minutes before turning to look at yourself… covered in paint. You frown.

“Well… this was a disaster” a smile tugs at your lips, “Although, I kinda fun one”

Satoru grins, throwing a playful wink your way.

“What can I say? I bring the fun wherever I go” he brags.

Suguru shakes his head but smiles quiestly, glancing at both of them with something akin to fondness in his eyes.

“Somehow we made it out. It was fun, though I kinda wished Shoko had been here” he sighs, “Would’ve helped me deal with you two”

You send him an offended look while Satoru simply grins widely. Suddenly, Satoru pulls out his phone, snapping a picture of the three pieces.

“Perfect!” He smiles, “This is going straight into my ‘masterpieces’ collection”

“It’s not masterpieces if it’s just an album of your selfies” you remind him, amused.

“Masterpieces, Y/N, masterpieces”

Holding back a laugh, you move to grab the videocamera recording the whole process, closing it so the screen goes black.

The recording ending.

taglist: @gumiiiiezzzz @reagan707

FOR SOME REASON TUMBLR ISNT ALLOWING ME TO LINK SOME OF MY PARTS. I’M SORRY

[the-archivists-plus-one]

YIIIIPPPPEEEEE!!! I love getting tagged in these things!!! Thanks buddy :)

Favorite Color: Purple. But also red. And blue LOOK IT’S HARD. Purple will always be my number one but red and blue BATTLE to try and overtake it sometimes. Oh shit wait my favorite colors are the bisexual lighting haha that’s hilarious

Last Song: Ok so idk what all this last.fm stuff is about???? But the last song I listened to on Spotify was What’s Up Danger. Yes it’s because of the Spiderverse movie, shush. Before that it was Perfect System by Oingo Boingo and I find that hilarious

Currently Reading: Do AO3 fics count for this? Because I’m not currently reading an actual book lol. If so, the one I will nominate for this is an Inanimate Insanity fic I’m not even close to finishing (BECAUSE 71 CHAPTERS?? HELLO???) called The Neighbor Next Door! It’s pretty well written and I love the way the author characterizes everyone

Currently Watching: Uhhhhhhhh not really anything particularly in the moment I’d say. I did recently watch an object show called ONE though so that was cool. Had to cope with the ending even though I watched it all in one day LMAO. Oh. And I’ve been invested in all the new Inanimate Insanity episodes. Eagerly awaiting episode 18

Currently Craving: Mmmm ice cream. Not even any in particular I just.. Ice creamm. I’m a basic bitch though, just give me a bowl of vanilla ice cream and I will be vvery happy. I also very much like sherbert. I also wish I could have honey pecan ice cream without the pecans..

Coffee or Tea?: Coffee I guess because I’ve drank more of it tbh. I love drinking flavored iced coffees dude. Caffeine doesn’t really have an effect on me from what I’ve seen though, so I’m kinda just drinking for the sweet flavor at that point lol. It’s just that the only tea I’ve ever drank was like.. once when I was sick, so it was disgusting but I powered through, and one that tasted like chapstick. So.

Hobby to Try: I don’t think I’ll ever get around to actually ever doing it but I’ve always thought it’d be cool to learn how to sew stuff. Idk I just think it’d be pretty rad to be able to fix things up, and make your own clothes should you have the fabric, pattern, and time on your hands. But idk. I already do my drawing and singing and acting and writing and baking soooo

Current AU: I don’t have an AU that I personally have made really currently, but I do have a couple that I spin around in my head like a microwave. So for ONE, or HFJONE as the fandom calls it for tagging purposes, I love the “Everyone gets sent back, but now Liam has to bring and keep Airy with him on earth to stop him from making another season of 1” sort of AU. For Inanimate Insanity, I’m a big fan of @bear-boi-5 ‘s Demented Mephone AU!!! It’s very interesting, and I just love to look at how a character and the trauma they go through can change them as a person, and that’s what it’s full of!! For Gravity Falls, Feral Ford AU is a guilty pleasure of mine. I also love the (very small) Time Dilation AU too though.

Tagging: I’m just gonna tag whoever!! Feel free to not do it!! @themathwhizard @thatofabeavers @adams3rdwifeee @slightlybritish @ho-ho-homosxual

Get to Know Me (tagged by @slingbees)

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rules: tag 9 people you want to get to know better and catch up with

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Favorite Color(s): ORANGE!!!!! but also yellow!

Last Song:

Currently Reading: them Guardians of Ga'hoole books because when I was in the hospital I read one of them.

Currently Watching: I'm going through Red Vs Blue with some friends.

Currently Craving: this peach monster right beside me. don't tempt me.

Coffee or Tea: I haven't been drinking much of either recently, but coffee.

Hobby to Try: Start animating at home.

Current AU: I guess I've been thinking about that Simpsons comic where Smithers gets cloned, fucking hilarious they just start killing each other. Other than that, I don't know.

TAGGING:@sleepypuddding @funkyjunkyfangz @beeframennoodles100 @danklemckspankle @potatoqueensays @notevenhodgepodge @butchbarneygumble @lorogy662 @calpalsworld anyone else too!

[bisexualiteaa]

Hello, Lover

Shadowheart x FemTav! Reader [MDNI!!]

CW: established romance, lesbian romance, slight game spoilers, brief mentions of religious trauma, fluffy themes, mentions of alc0hol, suggestive themes, talk of the female anatomy, mentions of f0replay, implied smut, slight deviance from the plot, slight OOC shadowheart, possible grammar/spelling errors, lightly proofread.

Synopsis: Shadowheart shows you a journal entry of the night after you taught her how to swim, showing her that perhaps you’d opened her eyes to more than just how to swim that night.

Words in bold are her writing. Enjoy! 🖤

It was a night like most on the road to Baldur’s Gate, one rested on the same old bedroll you’ve been using since it all started. Resting atop the dirt and cobble beside the dim light of the campfire’s hearth. It was just before you were bunking down for the night that you stopped by Shadowheart’s tent as you normally do.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” she spoke flirtatiously as you strode up to her, delighted smile on her face to match her tone. You could only smile the same in return, offering a slight giggle in response. “Say’s you, how are you faring?” You asked, genuinely wishing to know how she was feeling after such a long, and emotionally taxing day. “The same as everyone else I’m sure. Tired, anxious, ready to get this tadpole out of my head. Although, I will miss eavesdropping on your thoughts once it’s gone” she teased, making you chuckle. “Nothing a simple detect thoughts spell couldn’t cure, and with less…tentacles for side effects. Though bold of you to assume I wouldn’t just tell you” you replied in kind, making her hum with delight at your response. “True. Speaking of reading thoughts, I have something to show you, if you have a moment?” She asked, reminding you truly of just how far along she’s come and how close you have gotten for her to voluntarily tell you such a thing. “For you? Always” you replied, despite its cliche nature, making her laugh.

You followed her into her tent, ever curious of what she was wishing to show you. For a moment you’d thought she wanted you to link minds with her via the tadpole to show you a memory, but your questions were answered upon watching her pick up a book instead. Only then did your mind begin to form other questions, ones you knew would be answered soon. As she brought out the book, she also grabbed a carafe of wine and two glasses for you to share, a nightly ritual you both have begun to indulge in together as opposed to indulging apart. “Are you wanting to read me a bed time story?” You asked teasingly, but as you watched her sit down before you, you realized maybe you had been correct in that assumption. “Actually? Yes” she replied, patting the space next to her as a gesture for you to join. One you were quick to heed.

As you sat down next to her, she poured wine into the goblet next to you before pouring some into her own. “Fancy, are we starting a book club?” You asked, making her laugh. “While that doesn’t sound unpleasant, the wine is more for me to drown out my embarrassment” she replied, making you look to her as she handed you the book. Upon closer inspection it appeared to be a journal of sorts, and that’s when you put the pieces together. She was showing you her journal. Her personal journal. “I’ve carried this with me since nearly the very beginning of our journey together. I was told by someone once that journaling could help heal, allow you to look back on yourself and see how you’ve grown” she stated. “Well, one night I’m afraid I had too much wine and fancied myself a writer. I thought you might enjoy it” she finished, making you look back down to the leather cover that has certainly seen better days before it’s time spent with you all on the road. “Are you sure? It’s a personal thing, I can understand if you’d rather keep it to yourself” You asked. “As much as I would, I think this is simply too good not to share” she said playfully, making you giggle with her as you had a sip of your wine.

As you opened it, you marveled at her handwriting. It was elegant, the ink neatly applied to the pages without so much as a smudge and smelled faintly of wine, flowers and something a little deeper. Just like her. The first handful of pages were the typical journal entries, recounting the earlier days of your travel together. As you pressed further however, you stumbled upon a few pages of something different. Poetry. It was something you wouldn’t have guessed she’d have dabbled in, but her writings were delightful and well spoken nonetheless. “I didn’t think you to be a poet” you said playfully, turning to her as she sat next to you, reading the pages over your shoulder. “I didn’t either, you’re quite the inspiration” she said, making a heat rise to your cheeks in fluster at her compliment. “Keep going, it gets better” she said, making you turn through the pages in search for the one she seemed to be pointing you in the direction of. Page after page of poetry, attempted love letters, attempted notes, you’d finally stumbled across an entry that seemed to be the one she was trying to show you.

You looked to her before reading it, almost as if asking her permission only to earn a gentle “go on” in response. You saw the date of the entry, remembering it to be the night in which you shared in one another for the first time. The night you taught her how to swim.

How lovely she is. To think she was nothing but a stranger not that long ago, and to know now that she owns my whole heart, is truly the most unexpected gift. You read, your heart feeling warm in your chest as you read it, bringing a smile to your face. Now as I gaze upon her, watching as her frame sits beside the campfire, all I can think is how I love her. How the fire emits a golden glow against her skin, how it dances in her eyes that have had me transfixed. Her gaze which sends my heart to a frenzy. She makes even the smallest things seem so simple, so easy, reminding me that nothing is impossible. you continued to read, feeling your chest swell at the thought of her finding you so inspiring, that she looked up to you. That she trusted you. It was a gift you would never take for granted.

Today, she taught me how to swim. While the others were asleep, her and I snuck off down the coast a little to the water. I could still feel the cold, dark hands of the shadowfell all over me, could still hear the vile whispers of Shar in my ears. I’d felt unclean. She apologized to me as if it were her fault, as if she hadn’t brought me to the light. As if she hadn’t seen more within me and guided me to the much happier path I now lead. There was something I knew that would help that feeling go away, and I knew more than anything that I wanted to experience it with her. So as we made it to the beach, I sprung upon her a swimming lesson, telling her to strip of her clothes to join me. If I was to do this, I most certainly wasn’t going to be going in it alone. Yet I knew I needn’t fear, despite her shocked expression, she indeed joined me. Though I will admit, I rather enjoyed watching her undress before me, a detail I’m sure hadn’t gone unnoticed. you read, making you chuckle to yourself a little. “My, you have quite the way with words, how come you never tell me such things in person?” you said, making her flush a little as she read that last line with you. “Like I said, perhaps I was a glass too many in. Besides, what fun would it be if I told you all the time? Your ego would be far too big” she replied, making you both laugh. “Trust me, it gets better” she added, so of course you turned your attention back to the book.

I watched as she turned around, her hands grasping at the bottom of her shirt before pulling it over her head. I wished she hadn’t, getting to see her in all her glory is something I’ve spent a fortnight thinking about. However, in that moment, the saying “good things come to those who wait” spoke volumes. Soon I watched her glance at me over her shoulder with a flirtatious grin, one I could only return in kind before watching her bend down to strip herself of her pants and leathers. Gods she’s marvelous. Watching her hands run down her hips as she undressed herself left me almost jealous. How I craved to touch her in that moment, to run my hands along her frame, to watch as a blush would tint her cheeks at the closeness. It was then I knew that tonight was to be the night. You you continued to read, feeling a heat rise up your neck to your cheeks. You picked up your goblet and brought it to your lips for a sip, making a sound of intrigue at the passage you’d just read. “This is good” you said, earning a chuckle from her as she rested her chin against your shoulder, taking the occasional sip from her own glass.

It was as her eyes trailed my form, standing bare before her that I’d never felt so vulnerable. She gazed upon me like I once used to look upon every statue of Shar. With worship. It send tingles beneath my skin and gooseflesh along my body. I was vulnerable, but I wasn’t alone. I remember her telling me that I looked beautiful, almost seeming to take the words from my mouth that I wished to tell her. It’s certainly a moment I will never forget. The way her gaze fell on me caused a burning ache within me I fear I may never rid of. Nor do I want to.

She led me into the water, her hand gently enveloped in mine, helping me tread deeper and deeper into the depths of the water. It was cold, bitterly cold. The sort of cold that chills you to the bone, yet I’d felt so energized. I remember when my feet no longer touched the bottom, no longer feeling the sand beneath my feet. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. Just a moment prior I doubted I’d be able to even enter, but with her there with me, I knew I could do it. All she could do was watch and smile, as if silently cheering me on. Though I could sense there was more than that in her gaze. Before I could come up with something truly witty, she splashed me with the water, making me turn and laugh before I retaliated with the same. Taking it in stride, as she does with most everything it seems, she leaned back into the water, dipping her full body into it before rising back up, leaving me to sit and admire her.

Her hair was now damp, slicked back from her face as water cascaded down her neck to her chest, trailing between her bosom. Her nipples sat hard from the frigid temperature, a symptom I no doubt shared in. It made her all the more ethereal. It was then that I could no longer keep denying myself, if she would have me, I would have her. And have me she did. you continued, enjoying her recounting of your moment together.

I beckoned her closer, watching her swim to me to close the distance between us. Her hands came to rest against my hips beneath the water, and suddenly all fear was lost. She pulled me close, her eyes searching mine, waiting perhaps for me to make the next move. So I did. The feel of her plush, soft lips against mine will always be the perfect remedy. Suddenly the water wasn’t so cold anymore, perhaps it was the heat of her skin against mine, or the warmth rising within me from the contact. I’ll never be sure, but I knew then that I didn’t want the night to end. Not just yet anyway. She taught me that I could face anything on my own, that I could do it without Shar. In that moment my heart and soul felt truly free. No longer did I need to worry of Mother Superior and her demands, or of doing all the things that would appease her, I could instead focus on my own happiness, my own life.

I hadn’t imagined she would take me on the beach that night, or how enjoyable it would be. I’d read stories of lovers intertwining upon the sand as the sun would rise or set, but this was nothing like that. It was better. There was little fear of us being out in the open, we were far from our companions back at camp, and far enough away from town to be happened across. Despite the pebble beneath me, nothing stopped us from showing each other how we really feel. Her kisses lit my skin ablaze, feeling her bare skin against mine as she sat atop of me only made me want her even more. It was heaven the way she littered them down my neck, leaving my eyes to flutter shut as she made her way to my chest. There her hand toyed with one, as her lips indulged the other, her fingers pinching and rolling my sensitive bud as her tongue circled the other. How it had been so long since I’d been touched like that, how it had been so long since anyone stoked the embers brewing within my belly. With her they rose to flames, cascading through my veins like lava.

If her lips were soft and sweet, her tongue was most certainly the most sinful indulgence I’d ever partaken in. Her gaze fell upon me as she descended, her lips pressing sweet butterfly kisses along my skin as she moved, soon her tongue was dragging along my stomach before she was resting between my thighs. Her eyes looked up at me for permission, I’ll never forget the fire in her eyes. The look of being wholly and completely desired by someone. Nothing compares to that feeling. Nothing compares to her. Her heart, her mind, her bravery, her surprisingly…dexterous nature. As I bunk down tonight, I know I will dream of the way she held me, dream of the way her hands ghosted my body, how she brought me pleasure in ways I’d never been given before. Most of all, I’ll dream of the life we will have together after this adventure comes to an end, my only hope is that she shares that same dream. You finished reading, a smile resting on your lips as you turned to her. “You’re quite the romantic when you’re wine drunk” you quipped playfully. “You pest, I’m a romantic all the time” she joked in return, making you both laugh as you set the journal to the side. “That was lovely” you said turning to her, smiling as a slight blush creeped to her cheeks. “Do you really think so?” She asked timidly, almost as if she was shocked to hear it. “I do, your writing is quite elegant. You speak of our romance in the way poets and bards dream to encapsulate in their writings. Hells, I’d go as far to say you even put Gale’s verbosity to shame” you said, making her giggle again as she rested her head against your shoulder, both of you having well cleared through the entire carafe of wine by now.

“Tell me, did you dream of me that night?” You asked, making her grin as you grabbed her empty goblet from her hand and placed it to the side with your own. “Bold of you to assume, but yes, I did. You?” She asked, curiosity in her tone. “Every night. I often think back to that night, or to the night we shared after the tiefling party when we saved them. I think of you always because I share that same dream” you answered, grabbing her hand in yours with a delighted smile. “Good, because I don’t want this to end” she replied, looking to you as she said it, making you chuckle. “I’d never dream of it” you replied truthfully. “Best not, and that’s a threat, not a warning” she quipped in response, making you laugh before you pulled her in for a soft, sweet kiss. “Shall I prove it to you like I did that night?” You asked, making her grin into it. “I thought you’d never ask” she replied, her arms wrapping around you before she pulled you down with her as she fell to her back. Neither of you got even a wink of sleep that night, but it was well worth it.

[dykedvonte]

This was an ask from skull anon I accidently posted early so ignore that here is it actually completed. Crew voice claim first!

Anya - Janine Ditullo. She doesn't really have any big roles but she's Brendan's mom from the show Home Movies. She's snarky in a way I think Anya would be before anything went down.

Curly - Craig T Nelson. Specifically as his role Coach. Think he also has a sort of middle age voice

Daisuke - Greg Cipes but specifically when he's voicing Kevin Eleven as a teen and his voice has that deeper register. I think he just sounds a little punkish.

Jimmy - Steve Buscemi specifically in Parting Glances. I don't think his voice is loud but more shrill? He's a nasally fellow to me whose voice is intimidating because it shouldn't be so when he says stuff it just sound wrong. Like Randall Boggs. He'd be on his kin list. He's scarier when he's quiet.

Swansea - Ed O'Neill just because I think Jay (Modern Family) fits his general demeanor but also Al (Married with Children). Sort of rough, dry and tired but with that sort of comfort only a dad could have.

Now for other general stuff:

Anya knows how to finger quilt, tried to show Daisuke but he just can't get it, secretly smug about it.

Curly is like a gym bro sim. A good distressor for him is either jogging around the Tulpar or like working out like a freak in his room.

Daisuke has a shitty moped he bought himself after a summer of mowing lawns. It was his first purchase with his own real money and he got attached cause his parents were super proud!

He also thinks it makes him look badass even though it sputters every time he starts it.

Swansea likes taking pictures with his family and wife and even the crew but treats it like a whole ordeal. Fusses about people fixing their faces but is always happy with the results no matter how goofy

Jimmy refused to let Anya sleep in medical after crash. He explained it as not wanting to "disturb" Curly...

Swansea once accidently called Daisuke one of his kids names when he got irritated with him. Made the kids day in a way

Curly does not react to any level of sour, likes citrus and calls it sweet and refreshing, war heads are like jolly ranchers to him.

Anya has a very nice singing voice and Daisuke happily jokes and encourages her to get into the indie scene. Did choir as a kid

Jimmy knows a bit of Spanish through osmosis from jobs he's worked. Mostly knows how to talk shit and directions

Tells Curly he's mostly just saying basic stuff but its real vitriolic towards him that he just translates to like general compliments/jokes. He is still just a WHITE man

Anya reads who done it mystery murder books and makes fun of all the obvious twists and how they glaze the detective MC.

Curly lets Jimmy sit in the Captain's seat because when he doesn't Jimmy is noticeably meaner and more scathing to him.

Anya was planning to get a cat after a conversation with Curly about feeling lonely living in her apartment. Was gonna name it Polle as an in joke before everything happened....

Sexuality speed round: Anya is bi no real preference, very open about it. Curly doesn't label himself and kinda just goes with the moment. Daisuke is bi but a larger preference for girls, has a friend that everyone thinks he dating tho. Swansea had experiences in his youth and that's all he'll say on it other than a few comments here or there. Jimmy is straight but in a way where you here him talk about gay people and know he's current experiences... like the other day.

Yeah heres some more I always hold back cause like what if y'all don't want all of them at once? I think they all had family dinner as a crew but it always felt like an awkward thanksgiving with your family from a wide political spectrum... ergo Jimmy always said some shit and make someone storm off from the table.

[the-badger-mole]

If that's how you interpret Mai, that's fine. I've read some really great stories where Mai is written as someone who has a cold, prickly exterior, but is all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Some writers really make that work for her. I don't think the show really bears that out. The way Mai is written (or underwritten) leaves a lot of room for people to take her in different directions. For me, it's less that I don't like her, and more I don't see her as a good person, so her ending made no sense to me.

The Beach is the only time we really get to see the softer side of Mai, and it's so much at odds with what came before that I, and a lot of other people, truly believe it was added at the last minute because they needed a reason for Mai to turn on Azula and save Zuko. Because that's not who she was until then. I have (and still could) go on, and on, and on, and on....blah, blah, blah about why I don't like Mai, or rather prefer her as a villain, but I don't want to bore you with it, so I'll give 3 reasons, and I'll be brief.

Yes, absolutely that moment with Zuko on the balcony is bad, and that's where I decided I hated Maiko. Actually, that's where I became certain that I was supposed to hate Maiko. After everything he's been through, for that to be her reaction to him opening up was vile. Especially considering that she got with him specifically to manipulate him into doing what Azula wanted.

She treats people terribly in general. I've brought this up before, but the fact that it's made clear that she takes joy in ordering servants around for fun and then it's never addressed in her "redemption" is maddening. The show is using so much short hand to prove that Mai is not a very nice person, and it's never walked back. That's just who she is, and she's very unapologetic about it.

This is more of a meta complaint about how Mai was written, and then hastily rewritten, but the show failed to make me believe anything Mai says in Book 3. When we meet her, she goes out with the guards to find the rebels who attacked her family (of colonizers). She's clearly been taught to fight, and those knives probably don't come cheap, either. Mai doesn't hide her bad attitude from her parents, who react the way most parents would when they have a child who didn't want to move for their parent's promotion. So how am I supposed to by that her parents were these emotionally distant, cold, repressive jerks who didn't let Mai have fun? I also don't believe she fears Azula. She doesn't even hesitate when Azula comes and asks her to help her hunt down Zuko, who she has feeling for, even though the best outcome for him at that point was imprisonment. This was the same episode, by the way, did such an amazing job setting up how terrified Ty Lee was of Azula. The same episode. They could've added some hint that Mai was afraid of Azula here, but they actively chose not to. That made her about face in Book 3 look really weak, especially because she only turned for Zuko, not as the culmination of any internal work on herself. If Zuko had stayed loyal to the Fire Nation, so would she.

I've already gone on longer than I meant to. I can't speak for anyone else who doesn't like Mai, but if I had to sum up my feelings, I like Mai better as a villain. To me, she works better as a hedonist who is here for a self-indulgent good time and a loyalist who upholds the status quo. Or as Maleficent. Give me a Maleficent coded Mai.

i actually can't process why people don't like mai. is it because of the "i just asked if you were cold" scene. is that it. okay LISTEN i will go to bat for her. she says it herself in the beach episode, she's been raised to not share her opinion or like. care about anything. she probably deflects in that moment because it's obviously an emotionally heavy conversation and she's been told her entire life not to share her feelings. or share other people's feelings, tbh.

she's ngl pretty incompatible as a match for zuko, who is constantly full of feelings, and needs someone who can help him work through them in his life, like iroh or katara. but that does not make mai the stone cold bitch y'all haters want her to be. i promise she's fluffy on the inside, the stone cold bitch is but a thin outer shell that protects all the love and care she contains within herself

[lumdays]

chat is this real!!!

relationship charts + fun facts utc!! (sorry it's a lot of yapping)

- siyun and malleus met the same way novel!yuu (yuuya) and malleus met except siyun didn't take too kindly to him using magic on them. they had beef for a while and it settled into Respect, Sorta

(translation by @/yuurei20)

- siyun is the janitor (refused nrc studentship from crowley) so they've met a few of the students before their ingame appearances (jamil, ruggie and. jade)

- almost killed grim the first time they met

- leona often just grabs their ankle when they're passing by his spot in the botanical garden. he either makes them fall or uses them as a pillow, depending on his mood and the clothes they're wearing (if it's their regular nrc uniform then it's eep time, if it's the janitor uniform he's making them fall on their ass)

- it's not that vil isn't ambitious, it's just that siyun isn't all that interesting of an investment in the first place. so when his first few attemps didn't work, he gave up on them. they're not enough of an eyesore for him to fix anyway (also their reception to his ministrations were pretty hostile, epel bias)

- the first time epel and siyun ever met, they stood up to vil for him and all he felt was. Shame. wow, the magicless janitor is stronger, braver than him. he's. so. thankful (it's ok they magishift it out🔥🔥🔥)

- the light magic thing is uhhhh Lore Stuff, siyun has a strange connection to blot and that same connection makes them recoil at light magic (not the users themselves. Usually)

- THE ROOK AND SIYUN (onesided)BEEF!!!!! rook spreading l'amour et la beauté and forcefeeding them cheese (someone said rook is like aoyama's cousin and that's wonderful to me) meanwhile siyun is devising a hundred and seven evil plans to take him down. he chases them down as much as he does beastmen and siyun has taken to returning the energy by throwing increasingly sharp objects in his general direction (they miss by a mile cause their aim sucks ASSSSSS also their eyesight is shit but they have Bigger Problems rn)

more seriously though, rook's compliments and flattery may Mostly be in good faith but he makes siyun feel. Less Than Human (more so than they already aren't)

- if you couldn't tell, i have a huge freshmen/yun found family bias and they are Everything to me. they all think siyun's crush on jade is absolutely nuts (ortho is maybe a Little less unconvinced but he joins in with the others cause it's fun! yun gets it).

after a while, they start getting mad at other students who litter or trash the school cause it means more work for their fuckass janitor🔥🔥🔥(personally i think jack + maybe deuce are already the kind of people to pick up after other people's trash when they see it LIKE NOT ALL THE TIME, THEY’RE NOT SAINTS BUT. yea. meanwhile sebek is ABSOLUTELY the typa guy to YELL at people who litter)

- jamil and siyun were pretty good friends before shit went down in book 4, at least in siyun's perspective. it's not obvious on the chart but it actually took them a shit ton of time to actually make up and be friends again (for real this time!)

- the nrc staff and siyun all agree that crowley is public enemy number 1 (some more playfully than others read, siyun hae) but yea they all got SOMETHING against him. in siyun's case, he used a similar kind of magic as malleus first thing when they got out of the coffin and it got them tweaking really bad because they're kindaaaaaaa allergic to magic (should’ve mentioned this earlier but i forgor

- yunde time! (🤮🤮🤮🤮) siyun fell first and they fell HARD, 0 shame about shouting their love from the top of all the nrc towers or at jade himself, they 🔥dgaf, to say the least. at first, jade honest to god couldn't care less about their silly crush on him, though he did find it funny so he entertained them and ended up catching feelings by book 7 because he's a DUMBASS but by then siyun is like "i give up looking for white girl 🙂‍↕️✋️ it is not my fate" so jade is yearning + pining TOO FUCKING LATE

anyway, silly fun fact about them cause i feel like it, siyun was in jade's dream in book 7 but they basically looked like floyd

oh and

- floyd calls siyun “grouper fishie/grouper” because

yeaaaaaaaaaa…also he thinks siyun’s crush on jade is funny as shit until jade reciprocates

taglist (tell me if you wanna be added or removed🔥🔥):

@twistedwonderlandshenanigans @distant-velleity @sickle-stick @elenauaurs @heyhellohihowareyou @skriblee-ksk @angelwishess

[taffy-glitch]

ababababa murderbot

murderbot of the murderbot diaries fame.... holds a dear place in my heart. it has some shit to work out and that's fun to see 😌

[johnslittlespoon]

i just finished the prologue of the mota book and i don't know how i haven't seen a single post talking about how after john and gale's stalag reunion, they were then separated for another four months.

my heart is aching so bad. imagine being reunited (after almost three weeks, oct 8–26th) and having that tiny feeling of 'everything is going to be okay' and then being ripped apart again for four fucking months. 120 more days of not being able to be at each other's sides.

[verushkak70]

THANK YOU for this

Hard to put into words how sick but unsurprised I am

On the one hand, this swing towards right wing fascism isn't very surprising - it' is happening all over the developed/1st world... Look at all the recent elections in Europe

OTOH it's also a lot like, y'know, the 1930s in Germany & Austria, so it's completely sickening & disheartening

Most of the time, I just can't understand how people are so easily fooled, I just CAN'T...

& then I remember:

not everyone grew up with teachers for parents...

Not everyone was read to before bed as a child, instilling literacy as a value & a lifelong love of reading & learning;

not everyone had parents who taught them to question the status quo (except for them, lol), to think critically (except about them), & who were involved in local politics as well as worked for or organized unions;

not everyone learned the TRUE history of the US (& police & the Pinkertons) - as opposed to the watered down & whitewashed bullshit taught in every US public school history or social studies class I ever took (including AP history in high school) - at the dinner table;

not everyone had much older siblings who were on the debate team in high school & was thus forced to very quickly learn & practice logical reasoning & debate skills (even if it was over ultimately stupid household shit);

not everyone has traveled outside the US multiple times (& no not only to all-inclusive Mexican or Caribbean resorts);

not everyone has SEEN social democracy up close & personal in their travels (on one trip, a Paris Critical Mass protest completely stopped all traffic & our tour bus from moving for over an hour, lol; I've never seen so many people on bikes in one place before or since);

not everyone grew up with immigrant grandparents that gave them a much wider vision of both secret American history & what America is & CAN be;

not everyone has the privilege of a college education;

not everyone's mom supported a woman's right to choose (& safe, legal prostitution) from before they were born;

not everyone grew up with 3 different denominations (Lutheran, Catholic, Greek Orthodox) of Christianity which, while instilling a dislike for going to church and subsequent agnosticism, also instilled a belief in Christian values as fundamentally about tolerance, peace, caring for the poor/sick/old/underdogs, & righteously standing up to bullies, corruption, and powermongering;

not everyone had books & news magazines around the house growing up, that showed what the US & CIA were REALLY doing in South & Central America that has literally destroyed democracy in many countries to install dictators, as long as they were American as opposed to Russian allies (& who therefore doesn't wonder either why things are so bad there or why people would be desperate to leave & get to America);

not everyone was taught US labor history at the dinner table & got to university with a very healthy skepticism about industrialists, corporations, & capitalism in general;

not everyone had one, let alone two, parents questioning Milton Friedman, the Chicago School of economics, & neoliberal economic policy way before it was hip to do so, or was taught the true purpose of privatization (wealth transfer)

No, most Americans never got any of that... & consequently in their fear about their economic future & their children's future, they've grabbed onto what they think is populism but is actually right wing scare tactics & demagoguery like a lifesaver because it tells them everything they want to hear & provides convenient scapegoats (just like Hitler & Mussolini did) (but secretly doesn't really give a shit about them at all, except for their votes, & plans to change NOTHING for the benefit of anyone but those already drowning in wealth & power)

Which then makes it make a little more sense

it's just monumentally sad to me - like, don't ever want to get out of bed again depressing - that in both Europe & America, now that the generations that lived through WWI & WWII have died, people have forgotten their history (if it was ever honestly taught to them at all, let's be real) & the world is going through this rise of fascism yet again - like, have we learned NOTHING? - but this time, attached to the biggest wealth transfers in history, enabled by & begotten by neoliberal economic policy - which will fuck over the very people who voted for it, who have no idea what is coming

Fair warning: If a single other Canadian even vaguely downplays the severity of what is happening in America right now I WILL block judiciously. I am already sick and exhausted of it.

[royaltea000]

I’ve never felt so conflicted about a franchise in my life but at least this dude was hot

[fellamarsh]

another thing i've been trying to do recently is read more self-published stuff. "but fell," you say, "you're a self-published author. surely you've been reading self-published stuff all along" and then i laugh for so long in response we both become uncomfortable.

see, the fear (which has for a long time been killing my mind) that i'll read other self-published stuff and find out that it's so much better than mine that i might as well stop writing forever kept me from doing that basically ever. i have a hard time not unfavorably comparing my work to others and had convinced myself i was being smart by withholding an avenue of de-motivation (reader: i was not being smart). it also doesn't help that i'm pretty low income and have a hard time spending money on books i haven't already read, and that self-published stuff isn't always available at the library---but really a lot of it was just me being a coward. which i'm working on. i could talk about how this particular cowardice is Very Silly, but i think enough has been said about it on writeblr and in the Writing Space in general that i don't feel the need to (though i will if anyone wants me to).

instead, i wanna talk about the self-published things i have read in the past few months and ask about the self-published things you love!

so: what happened was i got real sick, and while i was real sick i (naturally) read over 200,000 words of ace attorney fan fiction in the span of a few days. eventually i got bored of it (and also maybe annoyed at how people were characterizing some of my guys), but i still wanted to read something gay and romantic and nice, something i knew was gonna end happily, which isn't my typical fare.

now you may be saying (having gotten over all the uncomfortable laughter from earlier) "fell, you write gay romance. what do you mean that's not your typical fare?" listen. until a couple months ago i hadn't read a cut and dry romance novel since before i finished college. for context: i graduated in 2015. i know it doesn't make sense. i'm a guy who doesn't make sense.

but in this case it worked to my advantage. not the not making sense thing, but the not having read Published Romance in 1000 years thing. I didn't know where to start. I was very skeptical of everything the library had Available Now in the Gay Fantasy Romance category. what if it was all bad and also not good?

and then i scrolled past the familiar cover of our very own @ashen-crest's A Rival Most Vial.

now this was comfortable territory! this was a novel by a very nice writeblr person whose posts i enjoy! i already loosely knew the plot, i was familiar with the characters, i knew the names of things like rosemond street and the griffin's claw and that ambrose had blue hair and that at the end of it all there would definitely be Boyfriends. i didn't have to worry that this would be bad! i only had to worry that it would be really good!

but i wasn't worried about that, because i was officially Not Writing at the time, and because why the hell hadn't i read this book yet Ash literally emailed me some very kind words last year when my cat died??

Y'all, I devoured ARMV. If you haven't read it yet---especially if cozy fantasy is more your thing than it is mine---you should check it out Immediately. It was fun! It was heartwarming! It was sweet and earnest and confident! I was delighted to find it was occasionally hot! Ambrose and Eli snuggled up into my sick exhausted heart and found a permanent little place there. (Especially Ambrose. I have such a thing for Stiff Guys who Kind of Suck for Tragic Backstory Reasons and are So So Lonely They Don't Even Realize It. gawd)

(And a very small part of my brain spent the whole time wondering why I had been so afraid to really engage with the work my community is doing. The community that I'm in. The one I'm a part of. Why?! Maybe more on that later.)

But from there the curse was broken! I immediately devoured @stjohnstarling's What Manner of Man in a similar sort of frenzy (and hooooly shit guys am I excited for the expanded, finalized version to come out at the end of next month!) and started digging into @lurinatftbn's The Flower that Bloomed Nowhere (which I can already tell is going to be an All Time Favorite).

And now I want to ask you what your favorite self-published books are so that I can read them, too, but I think I will in another post that doesn't dedicate so much space to talking about my various and sundry Issues and isn't Terminally Long

[aropride]

doing my reading for my psych class for once and the book was saying most studies were reporting notably higher rates of sexual activity in men and i was trying to figure out who they were having sex with (each other in some cases obviously but that didnt account for everything) Anyway turns out the self-reported rates of sexual activity go down for men when they are/believe they are monitored by a polygraph test. chat the disparity is bc men are lyingggg 😭😭😭😭😭