#and I am tired of putting in effort for people who are clearly not interested in speaking to me

[casanovascomments]

hm

[shayberri789]

I'm a little hurt by some of my irl friends and have two courses of actions, but which will both have similar outcomes

Basically, I have three creative irl friends. Every time they share their writings with me (be it fics, poems, stories or creative non fic), I ALWAYS read it as soon as I'm able and give feedback + healthy amount of gushing.

But whenever I write something I am proud of and I share it with them, none of them acknowledge it. Its like they don't see the link you know. And its fine because I just say "I wrote a thing" and give a link. I'm explicitly asking for feedback or validation. I can't be upset because they're not mind readers

But sometimes I explicitly DO ask them "hey did you see what I wrote?" "Hey, what do you think of this?" And i get half assed responses at best. "Oh its good" "uh ill read it when I get home *never hears about it again*". And that's a little more frustrating.

Earlier today I needed to put together a portfolio, and asked my two best friends to please read through it, because it was important and I needed their input on (1) thing, and I needed it *before the end of the day*. It was three pages of easy reading. Its not like I was asking for concrit or editing or something time consuming.

One of them skimmed it and gave me feedback. The other one is adhd and forgot. Said she'd read it later when I reminded her. When I reminded her again, she said she forgot and had made plans, can she do it in the morning?

And normally I'd say that's fine! Because I don't expect immediacy from my friends online, esp for favours. But I had a deadline, and this was the third time this particular friend has done this. There's only so many times I want to poke someone to read my shit before I start feeling like I'm bragging/attention seeker/being entitled and demanding. So I just went and asked someone else.

I know I'm valid to feel hurt about this, and frustrated. I also know that my friends don't mean to make me feel like this, or forget. I know they want to support me. But I'm also tired of getting burned so I'm just going to fucking stop trying to share my writing with them because instead of validation I'm getting pain.

My two options are either a) telling my friends that actually their silence and forgetfulness hurt me or b) just lettint it go

Either way, I'm not reaching out again. B) seems like the option less likely to hurt my friends/make them feel bad, so I'm leaning to that. If the roles were reversed, I'd rather option A), because when people tell me these things I do genuinely try to do better in the future, and I know my friends would feel the same. But I've also lost faith in their ability to do so in this area. Idk what I should do

[rendy-a]

I’d like to request Jade, forest, romantic 

I love your writing, I'm so glad I found your blog. I hope you're having a great day!

Thank you for the kind words!  I have only been writing for a few months and had worried my blog wouldn’t gain any traction.  So, to hear from people who are finding it and enjoying it is so wonderful.  My readers really make my day! So, thank you all!

You are cute as a button, Valentine.

You stared at the Valentine card, feeling a bit confused.  Jade watches you closely, observing your reaction with an interested smile.  “Is there a problem, Prefect?”  You jump slightly and look up.  “Oh, no.  I was just wondering why you drew mushrooms on the card.  It doesn’t match the poem at all.”  Jade puts one gloved hand to his chin, “Why, what do you mean?  These are clearly button mushrooms.  What a shame, Prefect, how will you pass your botany test without being able to identify the local flora?”

You feel a grimace set onto your lips.  You worriedly ask, “Do you think this will be on the test?”  Jade chuckles, “I do believe that was within the scope given to us, Prefect.  Do you find yourself unprepared for this?  Perhaps I can assist such a poor unfortunate soul and remedy this situation.”  Your grimace deepens.  At first, your intimidating classmate had made you rather apprehensive.  Over time, you’d gotten to know him better and recognize that he is, in fact, rather benevolent.  Only not for free.

“Ok, I give in.  What is this help going to cost me?” you ask him with a rueful smile.  “Why Prefect, you wound me to suggest,” Jade begins before you cut him off.  “I know, I know.  You are the soul of charity.  But if I was so moved by your compassion as to want to do something for you in return, what would that be?” you ask waving aside his crocodile tears.  Jade chuckles at how well you’ve managed to cut through his act and get to the point.  “Well I was planning to take a hike later this afternoon.  Alas, the Mountain Lovers Club has but one member.  How lonely it is hiking always by myself.”  At this, he puts his hand to his chin and lets his sharp-toothed grin show.

“Alright,” you begin, “It’s not like I was planning any romantic Valentine’s Day activities.  I’ll change into something suitable for hiking and meet you on Main Street after classes.”  You hadn’t intended to spend the day with Jade but honestly, it wasn’t sounding half-bad.  Nothing was worse than spending Valentine’s Day alone, so spending it on a fun activity with a friend had its own appeal.  Plus, there was something just so interesting about Jade; he was so knowledgeable about everything and, more importantly, he was never boring.

The climb was tiring but worth the effort.  Jade was an excellent guide, showing you various plants to sketch for your notes and telling you facts and details about them.  You felt like you were in good hands with him by your side, both on the trail and as a tutor.  As the elevation rose, the views became more and more breathtaking.  You were often stopped by the sight of the nearby town and forest as seen from high above.  Jade never hassled you to move faster but instead appears to enjoy watching you take in the sights; as though he gets more enjoyment from your awe than the scenery itself. 

You reach a bend in the trail and see that above you the greenery is thinning out.  After this point, there are probably no more forests and plants.  Jade sees you pause and asks, “Would you like to see some more interesting specimens instead of moving on?”  You smile back at him, pleased that he was able to read you so well.  Jade leads you off the trail and into the forest until you came upon an old decaying log, in the shadow of which a colony of mushrooms had grown.  You gasp and rush forward, “Look Jade, button mushrooms!”  You climb on the log and do a little pose, “What do you think, am I still cute as a button?”  You laugh at your own joke while Jade looks on amused at your lively antics.

Only, the rotten log wasn’t meant to hold the weight of human anymore.  As you stand happily upon your stage, a sudden Crack! sounds.  In a split second, your merry joy becomes a frantic flailing; your arms windmilling as you fall.  Jade moves suddenly, with all the speed of a striking eel and manages to catch you before you land on the ground and hurt yourself.  You cling to his chest as you pant, the adrenaline making your heart pound.

As you catch your breath, you gaze down and notice and unfortunate sight.  “Jade, the mushrooms…”  In the rush to catch you, Jade had trampled over the mushrooms he so loved.  “I’m so sorry.  If only I hadn’t been so reckless.”  Jade turns to you sharply and asks roughly, “Do you really think I don’t care for you more than some mushrooms?” 

When you had climbed the trail, you had felt a sense of altered perspective when seeing the familiar town from above.  What before had been glimpsed before only a piece at a time was made suddenly whole as it was laid out before your eyes.  You felt that same sense of perspective now, looking at Jade.  He had made no moves to resume his gentlemanly mask, instead leaving his expression unguarded, as you’ve never seen him before.  Suddenly, the paths and trails of his love were no longer glimpsed though small gestures but laid out before your eyes as clear as a map to his heart. 

“Jade.”  You speak his name softly, feeling as though you are saying it for the first time.  “I never knew.  How did I miss it?  All this time we could have been together, wasted.”  Jade carefully sets your feet back on the ground, “It was never wasted when we were together.  You must know that.”  You gaze into his eyes, “So where do we go from here?”  He smiles at you gently, “Well, you never did answer me about being my Valentine.”  You smile a beaming grin and throw your arms around his neck, “Jade Leech, will you be my Valentine?”  He never did reply but, from the way his lips captured yours, you assumed the answer was yes.

[bathroomtrapped]

saw ask. so let's say hypothetically (not really) all the apprentices are autistic (they are) headcanon them

saw ask ‼️‼️ i completely agree unironically and i keep that in mind when i consume/write/draw saw content. jigsaw apprentices? more like PDA autistics anonymous jfc

i (shamefully) am not an amanda-guy and dont have pretty much any headcanons about her overall so sorry about that but ill do some bullet points for the apprentices bc ive thought TOO MUCH abt this

adam

1. the most obvious PDA manifestation, though i think its strong in mark and lawrence for sure, adam just doesnt mask his. he pretty much built his life around maximizing free will and full control over his schedule

2. constantly reducing sensory input with music and being baked. his apartment is dead silent and dark 24/7 tho

3. honestly i think adam has shocking high levels of empathy. most people in his life wouldnt peg him as someone who would struggle with that but i think its what sets him apart from nearly every saw character. hes so isolated but desperate to understand and connect with other people, even if hes in the shadows

4. studies high class targets and their mannerisms. it helped him function during a few job interviews

5. hates eating, hates effort so pretty much eats like shit. very few specific, cheap, prepackaged meals that he can handle. anything that isnt a time commitment to prepare and eat

6. talks too much to overcompensate (not sure if people are able to understand what hes getting at and ends up rambling)

lawrence

1. i hc him as a narc as well which (as you can imagine) combined with PDA makes instruction/criticism/responsibility stressful so hes constantly overloaded

2. same as above, combined with asd i think its the biggest reason he has that canonical low empathy (similar to mark)

3. can only eat incredibly plain and simple foods. rice, bread, vegetables without butters/oils etc. very picky

4. very little auditory sensory issues after so many years in a hospital and needs noise in order to function (including sleep)

5. started wearing pajamas under his suits after a few years in residency because hes already tired 24/7, the terrible fabric on top of that just makes him insane

6. struggled through med school because lectures are hard to interpret and hes more of a visual learner

7. so much eye contact

8. remember that dog picture in his wallet we see for like 5 seconds? i cant imagine someone like him enjoying the texture or sporadic energy of a dog and makes it sleep in dianas room at night. its not allowed in the office and he meticulously cleans all of the dog hair the second he sees any

9. absolutely allergic to change in every way

mark

1. low empathy as i mentioned before

2. he wears a lot loose fitting suits in canon which i think are for sensory reasons. he clearly prioritizes comfort with those (interesting) track pants?

3. i have joked with my mutuals about his off-putting, autistic ass stare countless times

4. terrible liar because he has less control over his facial expressions and mannerisms. he ends up making too much eye contact and thinks that brutal honesty is a good idea. he has an almost nonexistent filter

5. he reminds me of that brand of autism that a lot of patriarchs have, the kind that goes unnoticed bc theyre the head of the household. meat and potatoes his entire life, strange rituals and routines everyone has to get used to

6. extremely black and white sense of justice and a poor understanding of hierarchal authority. he doesnt get why people are above or below other people and struggles with those concepts

7. everyone in the precinct knows not to joke with mark because it will always fall flat and have to be explained. mark has rly funny but dry and blunt humor himself

[oscconfessions]

super duper hot take but god. i wish candle was handled better.

i’ve grown out of disliking her outright and now just… kind of yearn for what could’ve been. iii tries it’s best to both be lighthearted and character-driven, but that balance is poorly maintained and ends up with poorly written slop that doesn’t succeed at either, making it boring and downright assassinating characters at times.

i’ll go into a few characters that i think have been turned into shadows of their former selves, had wasted potential, or otherwise just plain didn’t need to be there.

first of these is Yinyang. I am the #1 yinyang fan, i am literally dating a fictive of them in our system (🥜🪶 anon comes out as a system real), but the arc the writers gave them feels a bit… off to me. The whole point was that they have a very sibling-like relationship, no matter if you see them as siblings or not, and they argued a bunch because that’s what siblings do. But in iii, they toned that down to the point of their character being nothing but sappy moments of them accepting eachother and then moving on. There’s barely any arguments or squabbles, which was what made them interesting. People who understand eachother can still have petty fights it came free with your fucking opinions.

Onto one I that I think could’ve had potential, Candle. If you’ve seen me before, chances are you might’ve seen my rant on how much I dislike Candle. She barely has any flaws except for being bad at communication— something that pretty much every ii character has at this point. There’s nothing to make her stand out and she’s very clearly a big favorite of the writers. And because of that favoritism, they don’t really give her any negative spotlight besides the obvious. Her viewing relationships as purely transactional is brushed off and forgiven by the end, with her not really learning anything from it. But there’s actual, genuine potential for her to be good, and that’s what frustrates me the most. If they didn’t focus on everything being lighthearted and gave her a scene on her own, where she thinks to herself and we get to see how she acts when she’s alone, i would consider that a win. Let her have flaws, and let her grieve over past mistakes. I don’t hate her, I just wish she was more.

And onto our final two, we have characters that straight up shouldn’t have been there at all! Starting with Box. I know Box was voted in as a joke— but to be honest it shouldn’t have even been on the poll at all. That’s not a contestant. That’s a gag that got tired and boring after the first few episodes. Someone else could’ve been given that spot— like Pickle or Mic or whoever else was on the poll without getting in. Box is a fundamentally bad character, and should not have been a contestant whatsoever.

Now, for the last one, is something that people may find a bit controversial. Bot should not exist. I like Bot— I really do. I think they’re neat. But they should not be here whatsoever. Bow is dead. She should not have been allowed to be in season 3. Even if it’s not exactly her, it’s still very clearly supposed to look like her. Let Bow rest. Make someone else take the spotlight for once. Have one of the least popular characters sneak onto the boat. Salt and Pepper literally WOULD DO THAT. Why would you have Bow show up AGAIN instead of actually putting in the effort to make your least likable characters learn to be better? Oh, I know why! You don’t actually care about storytelling and you just wanted to dangle the audience’s favorite characters in front of them so that they’d excuse you not working on the thing you’ve been promising for years! LET BOW REST. Actually put in the effort to make people care about characters they used to hate.

Sorry this was long and rant-y, I just. have a lot of gripes with ii it makes me so so angry

-🥜🪶 Anon

.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

To everyone criticizing or complaining about this incredibly talented author addressing the comments on their work: please understand that you don't have to engage with content you don't wish to see.

It's unbelievable and childish that some of you are losing it over how an author reacts to criticism of their work. Consider this: you're going out of your way to attack someone who has dedicated time and effort to create something for your enjoyment, just because you can't recognize that the story is about a grown adult who doesn't need coddling and can handle some harsh words. Grow the fuck up.

Spencer is not a child. Has he gone through some pretty messed up stuff? Yes! But that doesn’t mean we need to baby him and shield him from all the terror out there. Many people in the fandom have gone out of their way to tear apart an incredible character, stripping away his autistic traits and infantilizing him.

Believe me when I say this: a few harsh words won’t destroy him to the point where he needs to be wrapped in a blanket and coddled because his feelings got hurt. Have any of you considered how absurd that is, especially given that he works in a field where he’s constantly exposed to corpses, crime scenes, and serial killers?

The point is, some of you need to start appreciating the effort writers put into creating something for your entertainment. A story doesn’t write itself; it has to be thought through, written, revised multiple times, and published before it reaches you. No writer, unless specifically requested, writes with one person in mind. Some stories might catch your attention, and some won’t. If you’re not interested in one, move on and find one that does interest you. If you liked a story but didn’t enjoy certain aspects, find another one. If you can’t find anything you like, write your own. Stop bothering authors just because they write for themselves and the fandom, and not specifically for you.

Lastly, if you don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t say anything. Your input is neither necessary nor asked for.

To the author: Thank you for providing us with multiple incredible stories, and I’m very sorry you have to deal with this stupidly childish behavior.

While I hate to see you go, I’m glad you’re doing what’s right for you. Sending lots of love!

I have been doing a lot of moving chores today so I am too tired to do a very in depth reply to this - but I just wanna say: yeah. You are very smart. Everything you said - applause. Good job.

People in the fandom have literally said that Jason Gideon is a "predator" for luring Spencer into the FBI and "forcing" him to do that job, when it's a job that Spencer clearly cares about a lot (and Spencer is a certified fucking genius with multiple doctorates and big big credentials - so he could get any job he wants and he CHOSE the FBI)

Also people have said that Derek leaving to raise his son (after he named his son after Spencer and called Spencer the best little brother ever) - was him "abandoning" Spencer. Derek Morgan making the right choices for his family was him ABANDONING SPENCER

Spencer is not a baby. He is a grown man

And people either approach fanfiction with the attitude that he's OOC - a completely allistic neurotypical Daddy (borderline sociopath) hard dom with 0 emotions who doesn't give a fuck about anybody else's emotions who is only there to have very rough sex and that is it. OR - he is a puddle of tears and trauma who is a big baby crying all the time and he needs to be wrapped in soft blankets and if anybody looks at him the wrong way or says one bad word to him, he will crumble, at that person is Evil. If anybody in the BAU (like JJ) says something bad to him - they are evil incarnate and they are as bad as every single UnSub that the team has ever taken down.

When my fics take a mid level approach - that Spencer is allowed to be emotional and be yelled at, and his intense emotions get out of control and also hurt other people - the fandom cannot handle that take at all.

Anyway - thank you for saying all that you have said even if I have only managed to respond to one part of it 😂

[painted-bees]

Thinkin' more about Magritte and Rafael because of course I am. Before they were even roommates

Magritte had kinda coerced Raf to meet with her for weekly jam sessions. It wasn't difficult, mind you--Raf was curious enough about her craft (and her attitude towards it) to let himself be convinced to meet with her again. And then again and again. She always ended one meeting by asking if he wanted another--until they just agreed to meet at a specific little studio space every Thursday evening.

It was the only time of the week they'd meet...but it was -every- week. Magritte's assumption was that Raf probably had a billion and one other commitments. Up until that point, she never really had any musician friends that shared her intense fixation for just...playing music--let alone one as clearly skilled as Raf. She had a handful of chums who played instruments, and would delight in playing for an hour or so with her before wanting to do other more interesting things. Raf though--would get just as caught up in playing and discussing music as she--for hours until they were forced to go home when the studio needed to close for the night.

But, on very rare occasion at first, a conversational topic would lead Magritte to ask one question or another--only to have Raf kinda...clam up on her and become uncomfortably despondent for a while without any explanation or indication as to why. He'd get over it that same session, eventually. But...as the months progressed, Magritte would find herself unwittingly committing these unidentified transgressions with more and more frequency--more and more tense, uncomfortable moments between her and Raf--spurred on by something she asked or said that she didn't know was gonna bother him. Innocuous things, things about school, about hometowns, about parents, friends, past gigs, old bosses, shared childhood experiences, etc.

Initially, she was worried that maybe she was prying, or oversharing, or just being generally annoying. Magritte has undiagnosed ADHD, she doesn't -know- she has ADHD. She's lost friends to being "annoying and clueless about it" before. It does a number to her emotional wellbeing every time it happens, and she's become...a little hypervigilant about noticing any shift in people's moods as a result. But... with Raf, she recognizes that it was just as much a case of Raf being kind of, differently, annoying too. She could tell any time she had upset him--he wasn't obvious about it and put an effort to cover it up...but Magritte would pick up on it rather acutely regardless. Upon being asked about it, however, Raf would not acknowledge his upset.

She finally confronts him about it properly after something he mentions prompts her to naturally ask if his dad is a musician--and he responds with that chilly, terse manner she's become so tired of accidentally activating. She tells him, 'okay--you've got some pretty obvious boundaries or smth, buddy. Wanna just tell me what they are so I can stop tripping all over them?' And, to her further frustration, he is reluctant to acknowledge that anything is, or was ever, amiss. Magritte doesn't play this game well, she can't deal with it. She doesn't 'read between the lines', she can't. It's just not something she is capable of. So an ultimatum. He needs to communicate his boundaries or [[vague guesture]] whatever is going on with this, or she's just gonna stop showing up on Thursdays. She's tired of feeling like she fucked something up without knowing what it was she did.

This hits Raf as a suprise. Magritte's response to his behavior isn't something he even subconsciously considered as a potential reaction. He's been so very use to people placating and dealing with his guardedness until they finally wear him down to get what they want from him--before shunting him once he's provided his use to them. But Magritte, despite being the one interpersonal interaction he looks the most forward to every week, had set her own clear boundary with him and refused to take his shit. She didn't want anything from him except his company--and to play music. Music that no one but the two of them would ever hear.

And so, he finds himself forced to admit to her that he just doesn't want to be known.

'So basically,' Magritte reiterates, 'no personal questions. At all.' Okay, she gets why he was reluctant to put that out there--it's a pretty harsh order to deliver to someone you've been seeing every week for the past 3 months. But whatever, she's good with it. She just wants to play music.

And genuinely, it is fine after that. Magritte avoids personal subjects, the conversation isn't made awkward or stilted by it, the music is fun, and...some trust begins to take root. Enough trust that--she recognizes--Raf does slowly, carefully, very deliberately, begin to give Magritte little bits and pieces about himself beyond the amiciabley one-dimensional, carefully curated persona he cultivated for public consumption. And it's fine, each and every time. She doesn't ask to know more, she doesn't press for explainations, she doesn't try to open him up more than he is willing at any point. She doesn't take it personally. And the trust grows.

Eventually, that trust leads him to invite her into his home as a more permanent fixture in his life. As a roommate, just a roommate.

[wwormdoll]

The Jill Valentine Problem

Okay so I know how the title sounds but please hear me out because I am a HUGE fan of Jill and thinks she deserves so much better than what shes been given.

It feels like in a lot of more recent pieces of media with Jill in Capcom seems to be completely forgetting who she is.

The main culprit that I'm thinking of when I write this is death island. Don't get me wrong I really enjoy the movie, and am re-watching it as I type this but there are so many issues that I have with it.

Namely the fact that they use Jill's RE3 model. The reason she was wearing the tank top was because she was caught off guard in her apartment and was not able to get into more appropriate gear. You have Chris there constantly in his uniform and Jill just wearing casual clothes.

She isn't the only culprit of this, with Claire also falling under the same trap but arguably it isn't the same issue as Claire was never really a soldier on the same level that they want to be portraying Jill as.

Also they talk about her Wesker mind control time. So its set after that. So my question is where is the scar? It would be visible if she was wearing the tank top but they simply didn't put it in despite them drawing attention to that plot point very early on.

In my opinion Capcom is too scared to change her. Largely because she is a woman and people are attracted to RE3 Jill. They have no issues changing Chris and Leon's models to make them older or give them different hair or facial hair. But Jill always looks the same. Same outfit, same hairstyle same everything.

Sure they have the thing where she doesn't age but that doesn't mean that she wouldn't change. After Wesker her hair is blonde, not dyed but permanent. I get she would likely dye her hair brown to reclaim the person she used to be, and that she would probably cut her hair again. But before Wesker her hair was longer anyway, so its not just that being an issue.

I really desperately want a new Jill design that moves her forward to where the other characters are because it feels so lazy despite whatever story reasons they give for it. It feels like capcom don't want to change her appearance so they're making up ridiculous plot contrivances to mean that she doesn't have to change.

I really want to see more from her, new looks.

I would honestly just settle for one new canon outfit, not just a skin in games. They give Ada outfits, hell she even got a redesign for RE8 (which was scrapped but they still did something with her look to show how much things have changed and hos she has matured).

I'm really hoping that we get to see more of Jill. Not just have her in more games but see more of her as a character, what she chooses and learn about her through her design. But at the moment its so lacking for such an important character that Capcom claim to be a main character.

They clearly aren't afraid of updating character models since they've done it before for every other character. I'm so tired of them being lazy with Jill. She deserves so much better for what an interesting character she is written to be. Its like they put effort into everything but her looks.

But that's just my personal rant about her character design because I love her so much and really want to see more of her.

[autumnistic-danmei]

Beginnings - Phil (OSMP)

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Main Character(s): Phil, Tommy, Scott

TW: None really

"Tommy, for the last time, I am NOT running the server for you!" Phil laughed, seeing the grumpy and very tired look on the newly made avian's face. "I don't care if you've just been turned part bird, this is your admin training! Not mine!" The sun had just finished setting on the new world, and they had still somehow not found the others on the server, nor had they decided on who was running it.

The blonde heaved a sigh and responded "Okay, okay, fine. As long as you help when weird stuff happens, I'll do it... Wait sec- Ey, who's that?" Tommy gestured to something a short distance away from the two.

Phil's feathered ears perked as he spotted an ominous floating figure moving in their direction.

It was originally under the shadow of a knot of small trees, but as it got closer, the moonlight hit the thing's clearly translucent skin, showing it's features. It was wearing a muted yellow sweater, torn dark grey jeans, and a dark blue beanie. It had pale grey skin and a pair of skeletal wings, as well as a tail made of bone and glowing green eyes. What the actual f-

The creature was a meter away from them, and stared into their eyes menacingly before if finally spoke. "Oh 'ello there you two! Is Tom like, a chicken or something?" Phil barked a laugh again and glanced at the avian.

Tommy's face was priceless, eyes wide as dinner plates, skin extremely pale, the whole shebang. He stood like that for a moment before yelling angrily.

"WHAT THE F*** WIL?! DON'T DO THAT!" He cried, giving him a playful punch in the arm. " What the heck even are you? I'm an avian, and Phil isn't changed of course 'cause he's an elytrian, but are you like, a ghost or something?"

Wilbur grinned at his little brother's expression and replied "I think I'm technically a phantom hybrid, but saying that I'm a ghost sounds much cooler. Have you guys seen Fundy or Ranboo yet? I can't find them, and the others are searching too."

Phil shook his head "No, but where are you guys at right now?" The phantom pointed them to the meeting place, which was a huge floating island above a lake, and continued on his way.

-Time Skip-

The sun was rising on a new day of what Tommy had begun to call the "Origins SMP" or just "Origins", and the whole crew had put together an effort overnight and had created a decently large pub that everyone could visit, even people like Niki (who was a merling and couldn't leave the water for long) and Jack (who couldn't touch water).

Ranboo had been found by Wilbur, stargazing on a mountain, and he seemed particularly interested by one very bright purple star. Fundy had just gotten stuck under a large rock and had to be freed by Phil.

The day passed with little happening except for Tubbo messing around with his new wings and Sneeg trying not to get squashed, and nobody really accomplished anything. That was fine with him though, after the Extermination he needed some time to just sit back, relax, and have some fun for once. To let the kids grow up in a safe environment, not hiding in the alleys of the Hub, feeding on scraps and running from hunters.

The sun was about to begin setting, and most of the server was gathered to watch it, when Ranboo pointed out his purple star again.

"Um- Hey guys, the weird star is visible again. It's not nighttime just yet, and there's no other stars..." The endarian trailed off and squinted at the twinkling dot "I think- I mean, it is bigger than before."

Phil looked up towards the star. Bloody hell, Ranboo's right, it is bigger. Only a little bigger, but it's noticeable. He thought, mildly worried. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before in all of his time as a server admin.

The odd group stared up at the night sky for another minute or two before everybody agreed to just deal with it later. Well, everybody except for Ranboo, who seem fascinated by it, and chose to keep watch for anything happening.

Tommy had brought a group with him into the caves to look for materials, which consisted of himself, Fundy, Phil, and Charlie. The elytrian wasn't going to mention the fact that enclosed spaces made him rather uncomfortable, Tommy seemed to need someone to take care of him while he got used to his new position as an admin.

After a hour or so of iron collection, the squad began their way back to the surface. Once they were only a few meter from the entrance, Fundy's sensitive ears picked up an odd sound that he described as a "distant wind whistling" noise.

They all clustered at the mouth of the cave and saw Wilbur floating around in front of the pub, carrying a very terrified Sneeg on his head, and Ranboo watching from the pub's front porch.

It took a minute or two to notice that the noise Fundy heard was actually coming from about the three people. It was the purple star they had noticed earlier, and it now clearly falling.

It was headed right at their friends.

"WILBUR! SNEEG! LOOK OUT!" Tommy screamed, about to run forwards in an attempt to save them. Phil grabbed his arm though, and pulled him back.

"No, Tommy, I don't want you hurt." He told him, but then swiftly turned to the very confused Wilbur still flying around. "WIL! ABOVE YOU!"

The phantom looked up and his eyes widened in terror. Thankfully, he was able to get far enough away from the meteorite to not get hit by it, but the pure force of it's movement as well as an odd purple energy coming from it, threw the two backwards and into the ground.

Not a second later, the giant rock crashed into the ground at the shore of the lake, letting out a huge shockwave of some sort of magical energy and throwing debris everywhere. At the last second, Phil threw himself over Tommy to shelter his from harm right before the shockwave hit.

BOOM

-POV: Scott Smajor-

Scott dragged himself out of the crater the asteroid had created, blinking in the sunlight. Where am I... As the dust settled around him, he saw three figures at the mouth of a cave, staring at him, and quickly a fourth appeared from behind one of them. They didn't seem to be able to see him yet.

The first was the largest and had dark grey clothing, huge grey feathered wings, and feathery frills replacing his ears. His hands also were blackened and he had black veins running up his arms.

The one that came out from behind him was apparently a child and had golden hair, a red and white shirt, small white wings with red details, similar feathered frills, and bird-like feet.

The third was a short humanoid fox with a black cap and jacket, and he was crouched down, staring at Scott warily.

The final person was the smallest of the four, an inch or two smaller than the bird kid, and seemed to be a smile hybrid. As the starborne studied him, he realized that the white shirt, grey shorts, and dark green jacket tied around the slime's waist were not truly clothes, but just fake clothing formed by the goop.

The dust cloud faded away around him and the four seemed to finally notice him, and the little white bird began approaching. Scott froze in fear as the avian got closer, realizing that he did not seem very happy.

"OI!" The boy yelled, his right hand hovering over his sword, "What was that for?! You nearly got Wil and Sneeg killed!" The starborne began backing up, but glanced behind him to see a ghostlike being glaring daggers at him while tending to a small blue creature on the ground.

"Yeah, what the heck?! Who do you think you are, crashing down here and nearly killing us?" The phantom snarled savagely. Scott gulped and his eyes darted back to the avian, who now had drawn his blade. The other three had begun to advance towards him as well, and there seemed to be no easy way out of his situation.

Unless...

Could I used magic? I might have some left after... He shivered violently at the memory of his time up among the stars. There was nothing else he could do.

Scott whipped around suddenly and tried his best to use his magic to leap away, and to his surprise, it worked. He soared into the air, away from the people trying to hurt him. He continued leaping and every now and then teleporting a short distance, using as much magic as he could. I can't let them catch me...

After a few minutes, he reached a line of mountains and collapsed in the snow at the peak of one of them, but quickly sat back up. The starborne surveyed the people running after him and had a horrible realization.

Some were clearly never going to catch him, like the ones forced to run on the ground, but many could clearly fly, particularly the large winged one. But there wasn't just him, there was also a bug-like one buzzing towards him, as well as the phantom of course, the smaller blonde boy was being carried by the elytrian, and so was the slime (apparently shrunk), the small blue thing, and the fox.

The sight of his pursuers gave him the adrenaline rush he needed to keep pushing his magic, ignoring how much it drained him.

I- I have to keep going- Keep pushing- He continued to ignore the blazing pain from his overused magic as he shot away, but soon Scott realized that he was slowing down considerably. What? Why am I- oh.

The sun had begun to rise, and he was loosing some of his power. 

Scott tried to keep running, but the area he was in was extremely hot and he just couldn't go on, crashing to the ground in the yellowish tallgrass. He dragged himself across the ground until he was just barely under a tree and laid there, panting.

He could see the other people chasing after him in the distance, but was quickly distracted by a tall, cream-furred, fluffy animal licking his face.

"Oh hey there, what are you big guy?" He asked breathlessly, petting it's soft fur. It, of course, didn't answer, but in reply it laid down in front of him, and Scott hid behind it from the oncoming people. Have I found a friend?

Not a minute later, he heard the flapping of huge wings as the people neared, and the elytrian swooped down towards him, followed by the bug-like hybrid. The animal that had been attempting to shield him was scared away by all of them landing in front of him, some growling angrily.

The small blue one leaped off of the elytrian and sprinted towards Scott, brandishing a small trident aggressively over its head. It screeched and jumped, aiming for his head, but he kicked it away, and it flew into the dust ground a few metres away. Fury blazed in the eyes of the smaller bird-like hybrid and he bared his small, razor-sharp teeth at Scott.

"How- How dare you!" He hissed, spreading his tiny wings. He took out a bow, apparently resorting to ranged tactics instead. Right before the arrow shot, the starborne shot a small projectile of his magic, just enough to destroy the arrow, but his opponent took that as an attempt on his life.

The avian dashed forwards, sword ready to slice down at him, but Scott had regenerated his energy enough to shoot a larger projectile right into the boy's face, throwing him backwards into the bee hybrid. Oh god, I'm so dead when they get to me...

This time both the elytrian and the fox went for him, followed in suit by the slime. Crap, I might have to hurt them- He had no more time to think about it though, because the fox's claws were now coming for his face. A second before they hit him, something had grabbed his shoulder, pulling him away from his assailants.

"Oh my god, thank y-'' Scott stopped as he caught sight of who had saved him. It was one of Them. Fog clouded his vision as he stared into the soulless purple eyes, and as he stared, one of its long-clawed black hands reached for him.

"Not again not again- NOT AGAIN! PLEASE- I CAN'T GO BACK THERE-" His voice became louder as he spoke, and Scott's eyes were closed tightly and his breath quickened, making his head spin. His ears were ringing, and he expected the creature to hurt him, to punish him for leaving the stars, but...

Nothing happened.

The ringing faded away and he heard voices all around him talking, some even yelling at each other. The starborne slowly opened his eyes to see that the elytrian was now sitting next to him, his wings held around Scott protectively. The being that had grabbed him was standing a short distance away, looking nervous, and he realised that it was not one of Them, and that it had green and red eyes and a long, skinny tail, as well as being smaller. Still a good seven feet though.

The others were all in a group, arguing about something he couldn't pick up through the ruckus, but he was sure it was him.

The elytrian noticed that he had calmed down somewhat, and began to whisper quietly in his ear. "Hey, hey, breathe kid. I'm not going to hurt you." Scott stared up into his kind green eyes, still trembling. "If you're comfortable with it, could you tell me your name? Mine's Phil."

Scott hesitated before replying "S- Scott, sir."

"You don't have to call me 'Sir', Scott." Phil laughed lightly. "Are you okay? You got a bit freaked out there, and I'm sorry about Tommy attacking you, I should have stopped him."

"Erm- It's fine, I'm okay. Who are those people?" The starborne asked nervously, gesturing to the group of angry people.

Phil smiled softly, nodding. "The avian is Tommy, he is best friends with the bee hybrid, Tubbo. The slime is Charlie, the fox is Fundy, and the tiny blue one is an inchling called Sneeg. The phantom hybrid is Wilbur, and the tall one with the green and red eyes is..." Phil stopped, glancing at Scott's expression.

Scott, calm down. He told himself, avoiding the elytrian's gaze. He's not one of Them, he's not a bad person. And you can't be afraid of Them forever you coward. He looked back up at Phil, who seemed very concerned about him.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" Phil put a hand on Scott's shoulder comfortingly. "If you're not comfortable with endermen, we don't have to talk about him."

"A... What?" He tipped his head to the side. "W-What's that?"

Phil's brow furrowed. "An enderman. Tall, teleporting, creatures from the End. I assumed that's why you were scared of him. He's an endarian. If it's not that, why are you afraid of him?" Should I... No, it's not safe to tell people.

"It's- It's nothing Phil. Don't worry about it. So, erm, what's his name?" Scott quickly changed the subject.

His newfound friend still looked worried for him, but replied. "Okay, he's Ranboo. Some of the other people in this place are Niki, a merling, Fragrance, an arachnid, Jack, a blazeborne and Techno, a rabbit hybrid."

He stared at Phil for another moment or two before nodding slowly, whispering "Uh... Okay. Could we go somewhere else now? I... Don't like the way Tubbo is looking at me." The bee hybrid was staring him down, with one hand resting nonchalantly on his sword's handle.

"I apologize for him," The elytrian sighed resignedly "But yes, I'll bring you to the Pub. You don't seem to be faring well in this scorching heat anyways, are you?" Scott shook his head.

-Time Skip-

A slow, half hour long flight later, everyone was back at the "Pub", where the rest of the people were waiting.

The first new person to greet him was a pink-haired girl in a huge water tank with a fish tail replacing her legs as well as fins on her arms. Her name was Niki, and she was a merling, specifically an axolotl.

The next two were Jack, a blazeborne with creepily detached limbs at his wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles, and Fragrance, an arachnid with six arms and pincers on the sides of his mouth.

There's so many people... Could I make friends here? Scott wondered as he looked around at the people around him, talking with each other.

"HA! No." Hissed a voice from behind him. Crap, I didn't mean to say that out loud. He turned his head to see Tubbo behind him, a snarl on his face.

"They're not going to be friends with you. You nearly killed Wilbur and Sneeg, then you threw the server into an uproar, then you tried to kill Tommy and I, and after that you had the audacity to ask for shelter from us? Ridiculous." The brunette scoffed, shoving Scott slightly as he walked away.

Oh... He's probably right...

[sunstranded]

INTJ: Aversion to Critical Thinking

There is this ideation for intellectualism, but when faced with the reality— hot forge one must go through to refine their thinking into critical thinking— people start justifying ignorance (willful and weaponized) with anti-intellectualism? I am getting tired of this mostly because it's the louder most obnoxious people that go through this pipeline.

Definition of terms in the interest of how I use them in this post

Ideation for intellectualism

Wanting to be deemed as smart, knowledgeable, and putting intellectuals in an untouchable and infallible pedestal.

Willful ignorance

Knowing you are wrong and or part of the problem but you willfully deny it because [of a plethora of reasons that we should just call,] convenience.

Weaponized ignorance

you use the fact that you do not know to excuse yourself from doing something when in the first place you could have known it.

Anti-intellectualism

someone feels oppressed by intellectuals and wants to be treated as an equal. This oppression is the "feeling restricted by rights and wrongs."

I can define these more academically but for the interest of this post, I opt out of it. The point is to simplify and vent, not intellectualize and understand.

I can understand and intellectualize, but people have this tendency to use my capacity to understand and articulate THEM better than they themselves to JUSTIFY themselves. I am no one's apologist but myself. If I made the effort to understand someone, that would not get rid of the fact that they were wrong. I am extending mercy— you did me wrong but I am sparing you from an otherwise justifiable frustration and anger.

But I digress. Back to the matter at hand: aversion to critical thinking but ideation to intellectualism. I have an anecdote for this.

It is with an unknown type but a professor. I had witnessed her irritation because some of her students had literally given her a bullshit of an answer. A mishmash of highfalutin bullshit to cover up a lack of answer. I witnessed the fuming agitation with disappointment when she had literally asked a question with a blatant answer on the board.

Obviously, the student was consumed by equal amounts of frustration, disappointment, and embarrassment. Clearly, it manifested as anger and petty annoyance towards someone who is justified to have called out the bullshit and the lack of presentmindedness.

Then, in a different setting, the professor asked this student a critical thinking question after their presentation— they had answered and caused another variant of frustration. It was the lack of critical thought, they were able to present details but with no real meaning, no proper conclusion.

I have no intent of painting one right and one wrong. I merely want to show that the frustration is justifiable; the professor is showing her disappointment. It is apparent that they no longer wanted to show mercy. The professor wanted to hold them accountable. It's also understandable how students react to this. They're embarrassed. However nothing justifies anything they would have done. It would excuse them, but not justify that they were unable to answer— the tone and the context is set. Do not enter a classroom if you do not want to be tested, humbled, challenged.

The anecdote proves I that I can understand the emotions I identify, but I deviate understanding someone's feelings and justification of an action or reaction.

This goes back to my opening salvo on ideation on intellectualism. Do note that the ideation is different from not wanting to be embarrassed or revealed as someone who does not know. Everyone does not want to be revealed as the unknowing idiot and embarrassed. The difference is that there are people who helplessly idealize this intellectualism. "Of course, you'd know. You'd get it. You're smart." This helplessness or hopelessness to not be a knower is what I particularly find tiresome. Add into that the weaponized and willful ignorance that is used as a justification or plea for understanding that really tests my strength—my patience.

Now where does the title lie, how does this all lead to the title: aversion to critical thinking? Well, there's this idea that if you have a longer argument because someone you are arguing with has one liner, you lose or that you are wrong?

This is another reason why I don't spend much time interacting online. A one-liner is always more attractive than a comprehensible and clear argumentation? Then it is these same folks that when their intellect is put under scrutiny, suddenly they are an advocate for anti-intellectualism?

Do people, those who want to be called or recognized as revered intellectuals, not realize that there are things called humility, and integrity?

Do people not realize the brain fog and mental lethargy of just consuming information and not processing it? Do people find silence and the chance for self reflection so scary?

I had met this writer before, and they coined the term zombie horde. I prefer that than the term echo chamber. Why would I make such an unattractive behavior of a collective be detached from them? It is more accurate to call them the brainless but brain hungry horde they tend to behave like.

I wish these zombie hordes find that the cure is something inherent to them. They were (figuratively) human they must go back to that.

People need to stop trying to be different. They just end up the same. People need to realize that they already are.

[lured-into-wonderland]

He was unbearable! Why of all people she could meet here, he was the one to be put on her way? Nunnally had absolutely no clue why he was acting as he did. It seemed that whenever she was actually trying to be polite, or lessen the tension, or simply involve in some sort of conversation, this man was offended by her efforts? Why? Why calling him 'a Lord' made him angry? Was that reason? Was it because he was once a lord and now he wasn't anymore? But even if, he should have appreciated that someone was acknowledging his blood-line. His heritage. Even if he had lost it. As long as his blood was of noble origin, he could still re-gain his position in life. Once a noble, always a noble. Had he given up upon it?

She eyed him from top to toe, as discreetly as she could, trying to figure out as much as she could about him. But it told her nothing. Should she have a look into his mind? Better not as if he noticed (or his dog for a matter of fact), it may end up with blood shed that she'd rather avoid. After all, she was probably here for a reason, and perhaps he was a reason. But hopefully not. He would make a terrible reason for her being here. But she couldn't take any more insults from him as well.

"You wanted to say there were no princesses in Valisthea. Now, I am here no matter if you like or acknowledge my title. But you did say you are a noble, so are you also a stranger to this land?" - was she sent here to help him to claim back what he had lost? That was a disturbing thought and although she'd like to know what had happened (and how), Nunnally didn't consider asking such a good idea. She kept walking as instructed, but the feeling of injustice was growing inside her. Sure, he was right. She was alone and without any escort, but she could get one, if she wanted. Simply summon it. But that would neither be good for her nor for him. Nor for this land. She abruptly stopped, turned around and asked him with a tiny hint of despair in her voice: --

"Why are you treating me like this? What have I done to you apart from disagreeing about the dragon? Why is it so bad that I feel sorry for the poor creature?" - suddenly she realized she also pitied the man with so much anger in him. She was there once. Angry at the whole world.

She didn't expect Cid to reply, though. She turned around as if to intend to continue walking, but instead Nunnally faced him again.

"And why would I attack you at all? Why would I act in such a foolish way? Do you actually want me to give you an excuse to...?" -- no, reasoning with that man was probably no good. He was salty, probably mad at her, and at life in general. She was tired and she wanted to cry.

She turned around and started to walk again, her breath becoming heavier and heavier. It was now so difficult to walk. She should probably get some rest, but she wasn't to complain and beg this man. She stopped and turned around to see that man again. It was nice to stop.

"Do you think we could start again, Cid? Could we be civil even if I clearly annoy you?"

"My name is Nunnally, it's nice to meet you Cid?" - she didn't expect it would have any impact on their interactions, but why not to try. If it doesn't help, at least it would give her a few moments of rest.

"Can you tell me who's Dame and why I should meet her? And what's a chocobo...?" - and why would I really like to get rid of you? You're such an interesting company.

Torgal is no normal dog, and while he would sit still and listen to her speak from his master's side, he knew full well that the woman was insulting his friend. It was Clive's lack of action that prevented him from standing between the two, teeth bared and ready to defend his lord if push came to shove. Hells, he would invoke his magic if needed be, would be all too pleased to make her regret making him upset.

Clive waited until she was finished speaking, let her walk in front of him a ways before he even bothered speaking, let alone moving. This woman had no manners, clearly was not from Valisthea, yet seemed to think that her title as princess meant anything here when she continued insulting and treating him as her lesser.

True, he had not been polite himself, but that was one of the benefits of being an outlaw. No one cared if he was nice, so long as he was trustworthy.

" I do not think you understand, princess. " The title was all but spit, just enough respect for a bloodline he cared nothing for but none for the woman before him. " I do not care if you die out here, and the moment you attack me I will rend you in two the moment I am able. I do not much care if you come with me to Noblecourt, and while the Dame is sure to give me an earful about manners, she will not side with you. "

" There are no princesses in Valisthea, and as you are without escort or introductions here, you hold no power. My family name holds more sway than you do, and I'd sooner spit on my name than let you order me around. " Less than a heartbeat, listening for Torgal to move or for the sound of a weapon to be drawn. When he didn't hear anything immediately, he made a motion for Torgal to stand between him and the woman. " You can call me Cid. I am an outlaw, who's allies are in most countries. Again, I highly suggest you just keep your mouth shut until you are safely within whatever town I decide to drop your arse in. "

It was after a moment of thought that he motioned again to Torgal, having him walk ahead of the woman. As much as he'd rather feed her to whatever creatures it was that he found in the wilds, he was not so cruel. Harsh, language and life colored by what he'd experienced, but not cruel. The moment he was able he would call for a chocobo, set her on it and send it on it's way to the closest stable.

But for that he needs out of Mornebrume and back near the Glorieuse Gate.

" Follow behind Torgal, once the woods give way to a clearing turn right and walk towards the bridge you can see. I'll call you a Chocobo so you can be rid of me and I of you. "

[edgepunk]

The Witcher Netflix Rant from your local frustrated Slav I cannot tell you how tired and frustrated I am by TWN and its treatment of Slavic people. An actual Polish man has pitched the show to Netflix, multiple other producers of Slavic descent have been alienated and felt like they didn't belong there because of how they have been treated, then ultimately left the production that has been handed over to a literal Karen that doesn't give a shit about it. The show has removed every instance of Slavic(mainly Polish)/other European (Germanic, Nordic) influences, cultural significance and turned it into an uninspired, boring, muddy fantasy. Hell, I have tons of criticisms about the games, but at least they kept the Central-Eastern European influences and, despite TW being a dark fantasy, weren't scared to make the games look bright and colorful. You'd think that Girlboss Lauren and her posse would put some effort into representing the cultural influences since the games pretty much got the series popular with the blend of different Central-Eastern European (mainly Polish, obviously) cultures and the usage of Slavic folk music thanks to Percival. A lot of the themes in the books draw from Poland's history, which also have been lost in the show (here is a post that's written by an actual Polish person and explains it better than I could since I'm not actually Polish, ya know). All of that has been lost, both the writing and aesthetics lack the cultural and historical significance that has influenced the world of The Witcher, because the showrunners are a bunch of Brits and USAmericans who aren't willing to put any effort into trying to understand the history and culture. They just want to make the next GoT, which,, huh? GoT ended up like it did, but to give them some credit, in the beginning the writers mostly stuck to the books instead of making a badly written Wattpad fanfiction from the get-go.

And it's possible for a western person to try to understand the circumstances, look at Craig Mazin, the man who directed HBO Chernobyl. Of course it's dramatized, of course they added some things that didn't actually happen and a few things were inconsistent. But you can clearly see in the production of the show that they put a lot of effort and interviewed people from Ukraine. Not sure if it's true, but I've seen somewhere (or was it a podcast?) that they gave the scripts to some Ukrainian people who were alive during the Soviet Union and asked them to correct the dialogues to make them sound more authentic, closer to how people adressed each other during the USSR (and how Eastern Slavs adress each other since it's a little different than western people do, including us Western Slavs, here is a nifty post explaining it if you're interested).

Can't speak for all Slavs, but the overall reaction has been positive from the people I talked to and my older family member. Note that a lot of "older" people here have been born pre '89 (that's when the USSR fell apart, the disaster happened in April '86), so the majority of them lived through the disaster. The biggest criticism people had that they turned Dyatlov into too much of a villain. when in reality he was way calmer during the night the disaster happened. Not to mention Mazin had it more difficult since he was adapting a story from real life that affected thousands upon thousands people. Mazin is a westener, he could've just shrugged it off and said "eh who cares about these filthy Eastern Euro people" but he and his team went out of their way to actually approach the victims, read several books written by people who actually lived through the disaster, that affected them and their families to make the story more authentic and respectful. Now, why can't Miss Lauren and her posse do it with a fantasy setting? Because they don't care. The only instance of "Slavic influence" (using that term very loosely) in the show is during the Striga episode when they mention a "vukodlak" which literally translates to "werewolf" so like,,, eh. It's still a werewolf, just a different version. I'm sure the writers were patting themselves on the back for including that word they found on the werewolf Wiki page. It would've been so nice to see a Slavic piece of media make it to Hollywood, but you see how that ended up. We barely get any recognition and if there is a Slavic character in a western production they're always: an assassin, gopnik, Seksi Female Spy that falls in love with the American, thief, mob boss, and I could go on. They never get the language right, because all Slavs speak botched Russian, right? All of us are named Anton, Ivan, Nikita, Natasha or Svetlana. And there are other mythical creatures besides Baba Yaga which Hollywood can't get right either. And it bleeds into the fandom too, all the modern AUs take place in the US or the UK. When other Slavic people criticize the show for its westernization they are told by westerners to shup up or they're "haters" (I do actually hate the show and the corpo bullshit Netflix is trying to pull here so,,, you can come at me all you want lol) tl;dr: The Witcher was the perfect opportunity for Slavs to have something positive in Hollywood, but it got doomed the moment it was handed to an USAmerican woman who doesn't understand the cultural influences and has zero interest in doing proper research. I probably would've forgiven her and her team if they actually tried, but they didn't. But seeing how other cultures that aren't USAmerican are being treated in movies and TV shows it shouldn't surprise me. Also I feel like I have to clarify - this has nothing to do with the actors, this is purely on the writers, the background and costume designers that put zero effort into researching the different cultures (not just Slavic, but I am Slavic so I wrote this from my perspective) that influenced The Witcher universe.

[sargeant-bxrnes]

1 step forward, 3 steps back.

warnings: rafe being… rafe. drug mention & consumption, cursing, toxic relationship, sexual situations/implications, mental health issues. ANGST.

[AN: this is the first thing i’ve written, ever, so my apologies if it’s not flawless ; also, english is not my first language, that’s a warning on its own]

my requests are open btw

click for my master list

word count: 4.4K

Called you on the phone today

Just to ask you how you were

All I did was speak normally

Somehow I still struck a nerve

“Hey,” you said in a soft tone as soon as Rafe picked up the phone, you were laying down on your bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Hey princess,” his tone was calm, but his voice was rough and raspy all together.

“How you doing?” you asked him, even though you’d seen him last night, up close.

“I’m doing great,” he replied in a surprisingly cheerful tone, which is weird this early in the morning. Rafe is not a morning person. “You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you confirmed with a sigh. “Guess I have you to thank for that.”

“My pleasure.” he replied cockily, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear his proud smirk.

“So, what’s the plan today?” you asked in a casual tone, fidgeting with the edge of Rafe’s shirt, the one you wore to sleep.

“Uh, what do you mean?” he asked in a distracted tone, he sniffed subtly and coughed.

You knew what that meant, but still, you hoped it wasn’t what you deep down knew it was.

“Yeah, I mean—“ you said and made a brief pause. “Wanna go to the club? Maybe we can take a ride on the boat, you know, with food, alcohol... just us.”

“Can’t, I’m busy.” he said after a few seconds, if you didn’t know him better and his occasional mood swings, you would’ve said his tone was harsh.

"Really?" you asked in a soft tone, trying to disguise your disappointment with interest. "But I thought we were going out together today."

"Y/N, just because I'm your boyfriend it doesn't mean I have to be with you all the fucking time."

Okay, now he was definitely angry, you thought you said the right thing, but it still made him angry.

"Rafe-"

"No, Y/N. I have a life of my own, you know? Things to do besides you."

“That’s okay Rafe, I get it,” You said calmly, nodding your head softly. “Have fun today.”

Now you clearly heard the sound of him sniffing something and the sigh that left his lips after, and Barry’s voice in the background. “Don’t play the victim card on me, that’s not gonna work. I deserve to have some time off.”

“I didn’t,” you said softly. “And it’s okay baby, you’re right, you deserve to have some fun.”

“See? No need to be so fucking dramatic,” he said, his voice and words slurring. You? Dramatic? It was all him. “But don’t worry princess, I’ll drop by tonight and fuck the attitude out of you, yeah? That way I’m not just doing things with you, I’m doing you.”

And with such a vulgar comment and a harsh tone, Rafe hung up on you, leaving you completely dumbfounded and filled with incredulity.

What you did know for a fact, is that he would keep up his word. And judging by his tone of voice and how annoyed he was, you could already imagine the ache between your legs.

You got me fucked up in the head, boy

Never doubted myself so much

Like, am I pretty? Am I fun, boy?

I hate that I give you power over that kind of stuff

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you started hooking up with Rafe, and what you were committing to when you agreed to be his girlfriend.

You know that man carries more problems than he shows, he prefers to make himself appear as the Kook prince who lives a life of partying and money; hiding all the things that were going on in his head.

However, there were times when his attitude made you doubt yourself.

You couldn't help but think, ‘What if one day I don't manage to calm him down?’ ‘What if one day he realizes that there is someone prettier, or hotter, or wealthier out there?’

And Rafe would get angry if you doubted yourself. He would complain to you about it, saying you had no reason to be insecure about your looks; if you are absolutely gorgeous, or to feel insecure about your personality; if you were the most genuine person he'd ever met, and you could make him laugh until he forgot all his problems.

But what really made him furious was when you had doubts about the relationship itself, about whether or not he was capable of leaving you for someone else. He took those doubts personally, as if he wasn't trying hard enough to show you how much you mean to him.

When in reality; you were doubting yourself.

'Cause it's always one step forward

You were preparing dinner for you and Rafe, your family was out for the weekend, and Rafe had decided to spend it with you.

Your hair was tied up in a bun, your attire consisted of nothing but your underwear and a shirt that used to be Rafe's, but you took it so long ago that it's yours now.

Music from your shared playlist played in the background, as you danced absentmindedly with a spatula in hand, extremely calm and enjoying time with your boyfriend.

Rafe could do nothing but stare at you with admiration, you are literally the only good thing in his life; his little piece of heaven. You are everything to him.

As soon as Dark Red by Steve Lacy started playing, you let out an excited gasp. That song in particular is Rafe’s and yours, like… if you two had to choose a song to describe your relationship, it would be that one. It represented how you two did not always have good times, but your love prevailed.

Seeing you this happy, comfortable and at ease with him made Rafe's soul happy. All his life, he had done nothing else besides make people angry, disappointed, terrified. But with you, everything was different.

You were so focused on swaying your hips to the music and singing, that you didn't notice when Rafe stood up and walked over to where you were.

It wasn't until he stood behind you, chest to back and with his hands on your hips, that you realized he was closer. His head was bowed, you could feel his breathing close to your ear, so he was able to murmur in your ear the lyrics of the song:

“Only you, my girl, only you, babe,” he sang in your ear, his voice a soft whisper as he wrapped his arms around your body and started to sway with you. “Only you, darling, only you, babe.”

The gesture quickened your heart to unsuspected levels, you felt your knees weaken as you pressed closer to his body, appreciating his closeness as he pressed a kiss against your temple.

“You know I love you so much, right?” he mumbled in your ear, as you closed your eyes and relished his presence.

“I love you too, baby.”  you mumbled back, leaning your head against his chest, caressing one of his arms around your waist with your fingertips, and bringing your hand to his ash blond hair, stroking it softly.

and three steps back

“Why is he mad at you, again?” Topper asked you with a raised eyebrow, after witnessing Rafe utterly avoiding even looking at you when he walked into the room and then left without a word.

“Because I told Barry to not open the door if Rafe dropped by,” You replied with a shrug, closing your eyes and leaning back against the chair. “And when Rafe tried to lash out on him, Barry said it all had been ‘Mrs.Country Club’s’ request.”

“And he’s mad at you because you don’t want him to get all fucked up?” Topper questioned next, trying to understand the situation. But he never knew what the fuck you two were up to.

“Yes, but it’s Rafe, are you surprised?” you said with a heavy sigh.

“No, not really,” Topper admitted. “Honestly, I don’t know why you keep up with him, Y/N.”

“I ask myself that all the time…” you said with a deep sigh. “But I love him, so I guess that’s the answer.”

“And? I mean, I don’t want to be ‘that guy’ Y/N, but he’s…” Topper trailed off, apparently looking for the right word.

“I know exactly how he is, Topper, I don’t need you to remind me. I already think about that way too much.”

You and Topper had easily assumed that Rafe was no longer around, since he seemed to be making his best efforts to avoid you.

But Rafe was there, and he heard everything. He’d heard Topper giving you bad advice (or what he considered bad advice) And he heard you, having doubts about why you loved him or stood by him at all,and it made him want to lash out again.

I'm the love of your life until I make you mad

It's always one step forward and three steps back

Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy, I don't understand

No, I don't understand

[+18. Really]

“Leave me alone!” his voice boomed in the room, his brows furrowed and the veins in his neck were popping out.

“Rafe—“ you tried once again, approaching slowly in an attempt to place a hand on his shoulder, but he waved it away aggressively.

“Leave-me-alone,” he said, pausing in between each word to emphasize on how much he meant it. His eyes were bloodshot, his nose had specks of white dust, his lips were dry and his voice was coarse.

You weren’t entirely sure what you could say to get him to calm down. Or if there was anything at all you could do.

Normally, what upsets him the most is Ward. His own father. Rafe has spent his whole life trying to prove he's a good son, to make his father proud, and Ward never appreciates his efforts, only notices the bad, and ignores Rafe's clear calls for help, has since Rafe was 10 years old, so he certainly wasn't going to pay attention to him now that Rafe finally had a steady girlfriend, someone who had willingly decided to help.

95% of the time, you managed to talk to Rafe before he decided to resort to intoxication. Most of the time just seeing you helped him calm down, hearing your voice soothed him, and your lips, your skin, put him in a state of peace.

But the other 5% is when Rafe resorted to alcohol and, above all, drugs.

When Rafe is upset and decides to get high, he only manages to become unstable, erratic and yes, aggressive if not handled with care.

In those situations, the best thing you can do, putting yourself first, is to give him his space. Let him screw himself as much as he wants for that day, and help him deal with the consequences the next day, while you listen to him lament his attitude.

Rafe always said he would quit the vice; claiming you were all he needed to calm himself down, that you made him feel at peace. And above all, that you weren't slowly killing him; on the contrary, every minute he spent with you made him feel more alive.

However, for one reason or another, he always came back to it. Whether it was at a party, because Kelce suggested it, or, as is almost always the case, when he's upset with his father and needs quick relief.

And usually, this ‘quick relief’ ends up with Rafe fucked up, big time.

Once he was convinced that you wouldn't try to intervene again, Rafe went back to his business. He turned to the table, and since he already had the line ready, he simply leaned over and inhaled it, throwing his head back, running his hand through his hair and exhaling as he closed his eyes.

You exhaled heavily, shaking your head as you stared at your feet.  You knew he would struggle to quit, after all it is an addiction and he has to fight it, but sometimes you get the impression that Rafe doesn't want to quit, not really.

"Do you want to help me?" asked Rafe eventually, turning his head to look at you. You didn't know if it was a trick question or not, so you hesitated before answering. "Answer me."

"Yes, of course I want to, Rafe." you replied with your respective hesitations, wondering what he was up to.

"Come here then," he said, making a 'come hither’ sign with his fingers.

You took a hesitant step but stopped, your eyes narrowing as you analyzed Rafe, trying to determine his intentions.

He raised both eyebrows in your direction, in a silent question of whether or not you're going to go with him.

Eventually you walked over to where Rafe was, he smiled at you while biting his lip lightly. Without saying anything he approached you and kissed you; the drugs made his senses heighten, so the kiss was intense from the beginning.

So that's when it made sense to you what he wanted, he wanted you. Your most obvious thought is that he would use you to take out your frustration, put the drugs aside and, most likely, fuck you.

Your idea seemed to be the right one as soon as Rafe grabbed you by the waist, still with his lips on yours, left a little bite on your lip before pulling away; and without any problem, lifted you off the floor and placed you on the table.

It's something you wouldn't admit out loud,—mostly out of shame and guilt,—but this kind of sex with Rafe was the best, he's completely unrestrained, rough, full of stamina and teasing, and above all, possessive. And that, in combination with his attractiveness, always drove you crazy.

And honestly; if what he wanted was to fuck you to take out his frustration, you'd let him.

His kisses were hungry and his hands desperate, running all over your body without distinction, as if he didn't know where to start.

He parted his lips from yours, and left a kiss at the corner of them, on your jaw; and began to make a little trail of slow kisses down your neck. The feeling of his lips on your neck made you bite your lip as you wrapped your legs around his waist to feel him closer.

You slid your hand under his shirt, caressing his defined abs and the sides of his body gently with the tips of your fingers, as he left little bites on your neck. Your hands slowly moved up, intending to remove his shirt, but Rafe was quicker and brought his hands to the edge of your shirt, causing you to stop your movements to raise your arms, so he could remove your shirt with ease. And so he did.

He parted his lips from your neck and stared at you, the hunger in his eyes made you feel a fire in the pit of your stomach that only he could put out.

Desperately, your lips connected again as he settled between your legs. One of his hands traveled to your neck, and he wrapped his fingers around it, pressing lightly to the sides. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head; though he couldn't see it.

With just enough strength, Rafe used the grip he had on your neck to push you down onto the table, so that you were lying on top of it.

As soon as he leaned over the table, you could feel his breath over abdomen, so you bit your lip in anticipation for what was to come.

He began to leave slow, wet kisses on your abdomen, making a slow trail to the edge of your shorts. Your automatic reaction was to close your eyes and put a hand in his hair, stroking it gently.

What you didn’t know is that the fact that you closed your eyes had given Rafe an opportunity he couldn't miss. Without you noticing, he slid a hand to the side of the table, where the small bag of white powder was.

To conceal his actions, he unbuttoned your shorts, and returned his lips to the beginning of your abdomen for more time.

The little bite he left to distract your attention caused a gasp to escape your lips; and that sound almost caused him to change plans completely.

He did want to fuck you, don’t get him wrong. He even had a mental debate about whether to continue what he was doing or simply sink his head between your thighs and provoke more sounds like that.

But he wanted to try something first. He had always wanted to try it, but had never asked you, because he knew that you would most likely say no.

With ease, he slid your shorts down your legs; so that they stayed at your ankles or fell to the floor; he didn't care. One of his hands slid into your underwear with ease, his fingers going straight to where he knew you needed him the most.

Trusting that you would not open your eyes, carefully, he put the white substance on your body, so delicately you didn’t notice. He began to prepare to inhale, while biting his lip in reaction to the sinful sounds that left your lips.

And obviously, without warning, Rafe inhaled a line from your thigh.

And all your sounds stopped, your eyes opened and your expression was filled with surprise, the bad kind.

You couldn't believe what Rafe had just done, you felt like an idiot for falling into the trap.

You also had to bite your lip to keep from letting out a moan in reaction to what his fingers were doing in between your legs, but your pride forbade it.

But more than anything else, you were outraged.

“Rafe, you did not just—“

“It felt nice, yeah?” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, you could feel his breath over your skin, as he left little kisses around. “After all, I did feel you clench around my fingers.”

His dirty words, hoarse voice, and close proximity to your body, not to mention his fingers deep inside you, caused you to let out a soft moan, causing Rafe to smirk in what he thought was victory.

But you wouldn't let him win this little game.

Although you really didn't want to, you grabbed his hand by the wrist and pulled him away, your legs trembling slightly at the sudden lack of anything between them.

Rafe's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as soon as you pushed him away from you and got off the table, lifting your shorts off the floor and putting them back on without a word.

"What are you doing?"

You didn't answer, as you searched for  your shirt, feeling his heavy gaze on your body.

"Y/N, where do you think you're going?"

“I’m leaving you alone as you asked me to, remember?” you said in irony. “Before you sniffed a line off me after I begged you to quit that shit?”

“Oh, so now you’re playing the victim?” his voice rose. “Don't- Don’t act as if you wouldn’t have let me fuck you less than a minute ago!”

"Yes I would have let you, to distract you from that shit!" you admitted to him, failing to control your anger. "I said I wanted to help you, to distract you, to give you something different to do. Not that I'd give you another place to snort lines from!"

Rafe knew you were right, of course he did.

You had spent months after months trying to get him to quit, you had offered him countless hours of your days to give him something new to do, distractions, attention and love. And this is how he had decided to pay you back?

But Rafe was angry too, very. You had interrupted him, you were yelling at him; and you had left him so hard, that it would start to hurt unless he did something about it.

“Fine, then get the fuck out of here.” Rafe spat, his anger clearly getting the best of him.

Your eyes widened at that, you hadn't expected him to react like that.

Your best case scenario would be that your attitude would piss him off, yes, but that he would retaliate by getting you back to the table and showing you everything you were missing.

Instead, he simply took your word for it and told you to get out of the room.

“What?”

“You heard me, get out.”

“Rafe—“

“You uh, you have three options, yeah? You let me fuck you over that table and do whatever I want, you get out of here, or I’ll get you out of here.”

The first offer was tempting, it really was, but you wouldn’t allow him to talk to you like that. Before anything, came respect and dignity, and no matter how much you wanted him to fuck you silly, you were too angry and disappointed at him to let it slip.

Blinking repeatedly to chase away the tears from your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the other end of the table, your jacket from Rafe's bed, and walked out of there without another word as you heard him calling your name.

And maybe in some masochistic way

I kinda find it all exciting

Like, which lover will I get today?

Will you walk me to the door or send me home cryin'?

Your relationship with Rafe was unique.

Not because of the circumstances in which it was created. A one-night-stand that turned into something casual, that was formalized after a dinner.

If not for Rafe.

You loved him, no doubt about it. You would give anything to see him happy and at peace, at peace with himself and succeeding in his life.

Rafe would do anything for you, really, anything. No matter how risky, demanding or dangerous, he would do anything for you.

He would die and kill for you.

But that surely didn’t mean it was an easy relationship, hell no. In fact, the willingness both of you had to do anything for each other sometimes made things too complicated; for at times it seemed that not a single rational thought crossed your minds.

And yes, Rafe’s addiction was a big issue. Whenever he was too high, or going through withdrawals, he wasn’t the Rafe you knew or had grown to love, it was another side of him you wanted to help get rid off. And the process wasn’t easy.

While trying to get clean; there was no way to know how he’d behave. He could either get clingy and want you around at all times to calm himself down, or he’d be in a very bad mood all the time, constantly snapping at you and raising his voice.

So there were days where he’d walk you to the door of your house and leave you there with a tender kiss and a smile.

Or days when you’d get out of his truck without a word, with tears streaming down your cheeks while he kept yelling for probably the stupidest thing.

No, it's back and forth, did I say something wrong?

It's back and forth, goin' over everything I said

It's back and forth, did I do something wrong?

'It's back and forth, maybe this is all your fault

Rafe knew he wasn’t okay. After all, he had begged his father for help, begged for anything that would get those thoughts to stop, but his father hadn’t listened, had only told him to ‘man up.’

You knew he wasn’t okay. Which is why you wanted to help him, to offer the support no one else had bothered to give him before he met you.

Whether he wanted it or not, those thoughts were still there. Being with you made them easier to ignore, but it’s not like they vanished entirely. He still had some ideas that made his own skin crawl.

And sometimes, you’d say or do the wrong thing and trigger those thoughts. And things got bad again for him.

Rafe knew you wanted nothing but to help him get better and be the best version of himself, and he really wanted to give you that. To change and make an effort. Not only for himself but for you. He wanted to be a man worthy of your love.

But it was hard to be anywhere near decent when you two went out and a guy stared at you for longer than Rafe’s limits allowed, or when guys tried to hit on you, when his friends got a little bit too close for his comfort.

Whenever he got jealous, he turned into a walking, talking ticking bomb. Anything could, and would set him off.

It wasn’t your fault, not really, but most of the time you felt it was. You knew Rafe dealt with a lot of insecurities already, of not being a nice person, not being good enough and so many other things. And you hated being one of the factors that caused his insecurities to arise.

And I'd leave you, but the roller coaster is all I've ever had

It was a complicated relationship, and it would probably never stop being complicated because both of you are complex people, plus there are other factors that affect the relationship.

But that didn't mean either of you would stop fighting to keep it alive. Neither would let the other go.

Rafe utterly refused to ever let you go. He loved you as he had never loved anyone, as he never thought himself capable of loving with that twisted heart of his.

You are, without exception, the best thing in his life, the best thing that ever happened to him. And you being in his heart was slowly turning him into who he had wanted to be during all those years of loneliness.

And you would never let him go, because you loved him with all your heart, soul and nerve of your body. And because you know that no one will ever love you like him. With so much passion, intensity, honesty and purity.

Because every feeling Rafe expressed with you was true; he was himself with you. And you didn't want to let him go.

Even if the two of you went one step forward, and three steps back, that single step would be longer than any step life makes you take backwards.

[opalesense]

dinners at diluc’s

kaeya & f!reader & diluc (NSFW)

5.5k words • ~40 min. read

summary: after lightheartedly joking about a threesome for the past few weeks, a drunken kaeya decides to shamelessly suggest that diluc should join in on all the fun.

warnings: alcohol, facefucking, double penetration, bondage, overstimulation, big dicked duo !!

notes: reader is in a relationship with kaeya before all this (kind of a sequel to this!) and thank you so much for 100 followers! i hope you enjoy this as a token of my appreciation <3

DINNERS AT DILUC’S MANOR used to be as rare as a sighting of a dragon in Mondstadt. Though, over the past few months, Diluc and Kaeya have been slowly rebuilding their previously severed bonds over weekly meals together in an effort to achieve some sort of reconciliation. It was mostly my idea, but I’m sure after all these years of unforgiving distance, they were secretly grateful I was the one to finally push them towards reunion. With the strong sense of pride and swelled ego they shared, they wouldn’t outwardly show it, of course.

 Despite the good progress they were finally making now, I won’t forget that it started as a painstaking process.

 At first, the meals were tense and rather snappy, the boys sarcastically ganging up on me for forcing them into a room together when they “clearly had nothing to say to each other,” as Diluc remarked during the first dinner. Kaeya had agreed with silence, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, impatiently waiting for the night to be over. All I could do was sigh and pray things would get better from there.

 But now Kaeya had a drink in his hand, one that was made personally by Diluc despite having kitchen staff who could’ve done it for him. The brothers were riding waves of laughter, reminiscing on good memories and inside jokes with grins planted on both of their faces. They bounced stories off of each other as if they were completing each other’s thoughts, their minds so in sync – just like they used to be when they were growing up together.

 My heart fluttered to see a look of genuine happiness on Kaeya’s face. I could tell he’s been wanting a moment like this, a moment to truly reconnect with his only family, for a long time. And one glance at Diluc told me he was thoroughly enjoying the night as well, his smile breaking the usual stoic façade he upheld. So even after the meal was already finished and the staff had cleared the table then went to their quarters for the night, I sat and listened to their stories despite being unable to contribute anything to the conversation. Even though it was getting late, how could I possibly interrupt this rare moment?

 Then Kaeya had swiftly downed his drink. So he asked for another. And another. Then we collectively moved from the dining room to the living room to warm up by the fireplace. Kaeya asked for another drink. Then one more.

 “Kaeya, don’t you think that’s enough to drink for tonight? We still have to walk home,” I gently reminded him, feeling bad for interrupting the conversation so suddenly. But it was getting extremely late. I was getting extremely tired and cranky for sitting around and doing nothing for the past few hours but mindlessly listen to the men talk.

 “I’m having so much fun, sweetheart. Just one more?” he teased me by making puppy eyes at me, “Please~?”

 “Kaeya...”

 “No need to worry about him, [Y/N],” Diluc politely waved off my request, “I could always walk you guys home – it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to drag him along after a night of drinking. Or better yet, you two can stay in the guest bed upstairs then return home tomorrow morning when he’s sobered up.”

 I placed a hand on Kaeya’s arm. “Would that be okay with you? If we spend the night in his guest bed? I’m rather exhausted.”

 “Guest bed? Why don’t we just spend the night in Diluc’s bed!” Kaeya’s words began slurring as he giggled, “Maybe we can have that lil’ threesome we’ve been talking about.”

 My mind snapped awake immediately, eyes widening as I nervously glanced to Diluc who also had his jaw slightly dropped in shock. “K-Kaeya, you really must watch what you’re saying–“

 “Aw, don’t act all shy now, sweetheart!” He took his eyes off of me to face Diluc, who was now clearly perplexed. I sat perplexed as well, unsure of how I was going to come up with an excuse for what he said. Because it was true. We had been lightheartedly talking about having a threesome lately. But mentioning it to Diluc of all people on such a wholesome night like this made my heart quickly sink. He must be appalled.

 “Diluc, I’m so sorry, you know he says too much when he’s drunk-“

 “No, no, but it’s true! ‘Luc, you wouldn’t believe how much we’ve been talking about fuckin’ around with an extra... fuckin’...” Kaeya’s face began to soften at the realization of his actions as his gaze turned to the floor. “Oh... shit.”

 The three of us sat to process what had just happened for a moment, the firewood softly crackling to fill the silence. I didn’t know if I was feeling embarassment, awkwardness, anxiety, or all of it at the same time. All I knew was that for some twisted reason, the sudden mention of our fantasy out loud to Diluc made my thighs slightly twitch in excitement without thinking. How in the world did I just get aroused? I internally shamed myself.

 Diluc was the first to break the silence. “So... how long have you been thinking about this again?”

 “Diluc!” I snapped at him, not wanting him to encourage the thought. But one look at him and I could tell he was dead serious about the matter. Embarassment definitely kicked in now through a blush that quickly crept up to my cheeks. Are we really going to discuss this right now?

 Kaeya took a slow sip of his drink, finally putting some thought into what he was going to say. But just as I hoped he was going to take this opportunity to dismiss the topic entirely, to my dismay, he quickly muttered, “A few weeks now.”

 “Kaeya!” I smacked his arm lightly. My body shrunk into the sofa in disbelief. But my thoughts were racing along with my heartbeat. Diluc seemed to express genuine interest immediately after the initial period of shock. It was almost as if he had been thinking about it lately too. I couldn’t help but imagine the things that these two could do to me, or imagine specifically what Diluc was thinking about doing with us to be interested in the first place. Even though I hated to admit it, jolts of excitement started to tickle my nerves throughout my entire body but I didn’t dare show it. I can’t believe this is conversation is actually happening. I can’t believe we could actually do this.

 Diluc leaned back into his chair with a content hum. “If you’re seriously offering... I can’t say I would be opposed to the idea.”

 “Now that’s my man!” Kaeya excitedly pointed to Diluc, who then slyly chuckled in response. Kaeya exchanged glances between me and Diluc a few times before finally settling on Diluc. “Wait, you’re actually serious?”

 “Are you actually serious?”

 “Tell him, [Y/N], am I being serious?” Kaeya poked my leg, which elicited another twitch at the sudden touch. I looked up at him dumbfoundedly, failing to find words when I was getting embarassingly aroused. “I don’t think I’ve been more serious about something in my life, brother!”

 “I can’t believe the two of you right now,” I scoffed as I stood up, snapping myself out of the fantasies bubbling in my head. There was no way we would actually do it, after all, the brothers were getting along but not that closely. “Diluc, can you show me to the guest room, please? I’ll go to bed while the two of you joke about this convulted fantasy.”

 “Joke? C’mon, sweetheart! You know we’ve been talking about it!” Kaeya stood up to follow me to the main floor of the manor with Diluc trailing along, “Don’t play innocent just because Diluc’s around.”

 The three of us climbed the stairs, the two brothers still trailing behind. “It’ll be the last room down the hall once you turn left,” Diluc directed me. Kaeya hummed in what sounded like satisfaction.

 “Just look at that ass, ‘Luc. You know, you can touch her if you want, I wouldn’t mind,” I immediately turned around once I heard Kaeya mutter those words and glared at him. They both stopped in their tracks at the same time, Kaeya returning a stare more intimidating than mine and Diluc’s eyes trailing to the floor. I felt so small under the lust in his sapphire eyes, which were staring me down with a craving to touch me.

 “Listen, sweetheart, I know you’re being a brat right now but once we get our hands on you...” he stepped close enough to place his gloved hand on my thigh, shooting a chill up my spine and causing my thighs to squeeze together. I didn’t want to let him know that I wasn’t entirely opposed to this idea either but my body couldn’t control itself. My core was secretly craving his touch. He noticed my subtle reaction and let out a low chuckle.

 “Ah, I can tell you’re excited. Just keep walking, baby. You can drop that innocent act now and show Diluc how much of a slut you can be, okay? Can you do that for me?”

 I didn’t have the energy to hide it anymore, let alone answer him with words. I let my lips quiver as I turned back around, taking a few more steps up the stairs then walking down the hall while the brothers exchanged inaudible whispers with each other, presumably about me. My instincts told me they were plotting behind my back but they were so quiet that I couldn’t make out any real words. Before my hand could reach for the doorknob, Kaeya’s arm got ahead of me and gripped the knob himself. “Let me get that for you, sweetheart.”

 He opened the door and walked inside first. The room was surprisingly larger than I expected for a guest room. A large bed sat near the wall and with a glance to the side I could see it faced a large vanity. The rest of the room consisted of a warddrobe, drawers, a seating area, and a bookshelf.

 “This used to be my room, you know,” Kaeya pivoted his heels to face me while placing his drink down on top of one of the nearby drawers. “Diluc picked a good room for us. Hopefully it’s just how I left it.”

 “It should be,” Diluc followed close behind as I stepped forward to get a better look of the space. “I never asked any of the staff to touch this room aside from the occasional dusting and I don’t get many visitors who need to spend the night.”

 “Perfect,” Kaeya smirked. That grin usually indicated he was plotting something. My stomach was a mess of excitement, curiosity, and anxiety at the same time. Was this really happening?

 He knelt down to pull out the bottom drawer in front of him and rummaged through his belongings to pull out a bundle of something, though I couldn’t tell exactly what it was from the dim lighting of the room. “Just as I had hoped.”

 He hid the item behind his back as he stood up and took a step towards me, gently planting a kiss on my forehead. He then began to shower my face with kisses, wrapping his arms around me in a cute embrace and making me giggle. Just as I was about to push him away in jest, he simply said two words that made my heart stop. “Now, Diluc.”

 Before I could react or comprehend what was going on, Diluc had pressed his hips against mine with a grip on my waist while Kaeya squeezed me harder in our seemingly sweet hug, knocking a bit of wind out of me. Kaeya, despite being unbelievably drunk, still had an inescapable strength as he managed to pull both my arms down while keeping me in his embrace. My panicked eyes looked up at Kaeya’s face, which was focused on my arms now being pinned behind my back. Once I felt rope being looped around my forearms, I knew exactly what was about to happen.

 “Be a good girl for Master Diluc, okay sweetheart? I’m going to get another drink,” Kaeya loosened his grip on me and gave me another kiss on the cheek. “You want to do this, right?”

 I hated to admit it, but I shyly nodded yes. Kaeya smiled contently. “You can trust him. Everything he’s going to do is part of our plan. We’re going to have fun tonight, okay?”

 And with that, Diluc finished tying my folded arms together as Kaeya walked out the door. Before I could form a thought, Diluc held my waist to slowly guide me to sit at the edge of the bed, pressing his bulge against me throughout each step and kissing my bare neck. He then turned me around and planted a knee between my thighs into the mattress, slowly laying me down then beginning to unbutton my blouse as he continued licking and nibbling my skin. I breathily moaned at the excitement and nervousness of a man other than Kaeya touching me so calmly, so naturally. Diluc pulled the tucked in fabric up once it was unbuttoned to reveal my bare torso in its entirety, letting out a low growl at the sight. The excitement burned inside my core and I couldn’t help but gently grind against his clothed knee for some stimulation.

 He took notice of this and responded by pressing his knee deeper into my aching core which was so much more forgiving than what Kaeya would have done if I wanted to grind against his leg. Diluc trailed the kisses up towards my jawline, stopping just an inch away from my lips and muttering, “Do you care about this blouse?”

 “Rip it off,” I mindlessly whispered, not wanting to go through the trouble of getting untied for my blouse to come off. I craved touch, it could be from anyone at this point, but I needed to feel hands on my skin. Diluc made quick work of the insignificant piece if clothing, ripping it apart as if it were a piece of paper then tossing it onto the floor. He tossed his gloves along with it, my exposed skin suddenly meeting his warm touch as he caressed my sides and continued to kiss my neck, definitely leaving marks at this point. I sighed at his warmth, a stark contrast to Kaeya’s cold touch. Albeit, Kaeya always loved to use his vision to tease me, and maybe Diluc was doing the same thing here.

 “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Kaeya stepped into the room and walked towards us.

 “She’s gorgeous, Kaeya. Seriously, you found yourself a keeper,” Diluc paused his kisses to respond, never breaking eye contact with me, “You better treat her well, otherwise I might want to steal her away for myself.”

 “Ha! In your dreams. I’ll let you play with her all you want but in the end, she’s mine, dear brother.”

 Diluc scoffed lightheartedly and placed his hands on my back to lift me up, fully releasing my neck from his kisses as Kaeya waved a glass in front of me. “Now drink up, sweetheart.”

 “What is it?” I looked up at him expectedly.

 “It’ll make things easier for you later. Make sure to drink every last drop,” he gave out a short laugh, “That wouldn’t be the first time I’ve told you that in the bedroom, huh?”

 I scoffed at the suggestive joke and wrapped my lips around the edge of the glass. It was some kind of concoction that I couldn’t exactly recognize, but there was definitely hard liquor in it. I connected the dots and figured he probably had something planned where he wanted me to drink something strong to chase away whatever pain he was going to inflict on me tonight. My legs trembled with excitement at the thought, wondering what the two had planned for me behind my back.

 With each sip, Diluc worked on unbuckling my pants to reveal my half naked body, which was now completely surrendered to the two brothers who were also unbuttoning their own shirts without taking their eyes off of me. Kaeya finished first, having his top already halfway unbuttoned anyway, and reached down to strip me of my underwear. Resuming from where Diluc had left off, he leaned down to leave marks on my neck as well, his kisses being more sloppy and aggressive than sensual like his brother’s. Small pants escaped my mouth as his teeth nibbled down at the spots that were already slightly bruised, but he didn’t seem to care and only bit down harder knowing I was sensitive.

 But his passionate kisses on my fragile skin were only fleeting moments, and after one quick peck on the lips and a smirk, he climbed off of me to reveal a half naked Diluc tying his long hair up into a ponytail. Diluc’s messy red locks couldn’t distract me from his hungry stare. He eyed me down with such intensity, never breaking eye contact despite turning his head from side to side to gather all his hair into a bundle. My eyes darted to Kaeya, who had began unbuckling his pants and was also observing my body with pure lust in his eyes. I couldn’t help but trail my gaze down towards their hips, and in the soft moonlight, I could see their bulges creating large tents in their underwear, aching and yearning for me. I could’ve drooled at the sight of their bulky erections if my mouth wasn’t closed shut from nervousness. My core lit up with butterflies, wanting them now more than ever.

 My thoughts were interrupted by Diluc climbing onto the mattress next to me then swiftly grabbing me to turn me all the way around so my head conveniently hung off the edge of the bed. I let out a soft giggle at how he manhandled me, how he had lifted me and gently threw me on the mattress like I was dead weight. He must’ve noticed that I liked what he did because as he positioned his head near my throbbing folds and pinned my thighs up with both his hands, he gave a quiet chuckle to himself not long before wrapping his lips around my clit and gently sucking.

 I gasped at the sudden warmth but shock quickly turned into pleasure as Diluc’s hot tongue lapped at my wetness, making me flinch and arch my back at the sensation. I instinctively tried to pin my thighs back together in an effort to try and keep the tiny amount of pride I had, but Diluc was quick to shoot a dominant glare at me while he pushed my legs back apart. If anything, the subtle act of defiance only made him hungrier for me, his movements getting a little more aggressive and passionate. My sighs and moans of bliss made the redhead happily groan back in response, the simultaneous buzzing of his lips against my saliva coated cunt causing my brain to malfunction. I couldn’t think anymore and it had only been about a minute or so. I was in heaven.

 I looked up to Kaeya for reassurance that I was still in Teyvat as he hovered above me, stroking his cock in front of my face and looking down at me with a devilish smirk. “You should really give me a few pointers, ‘Luc. She’s going crazy over you.”

 Diluc kissed my clit before responding. “Have you ever considered learning how to properly please a woman instead of selfishly chasing your own needs?”

 “And have you ever considered sleeping with girls other than your maids?”

 “Fuck off,” Diluc’s warm breath against my entrance as he sarcastically laughed had me lean into his touch even more. “You know that’s not true.”

 His mouth latched onto my clit again, and as if it couldn’t feel any better, he managed to snake two fingers into my entrance while he sucked on my clit, his long digits teasing my walls by slowly scissoring my insides. If Kaeya weren’t a sucker for orgasm denial and hadn’t trained me to hold back my releases for months, I surely would have broken under Diluc’s touch by now.

 “Alright, don’t get too excited now, sweetheart,” Kaeya reached out to caress my cheek with his thumb, “Let’s show Diluc how pretty you look with a bulge in your throat.”

 “Yes, sir,” I mindlessly muttered and eagerly opened my mouth, earning a grin from Kaeya. He placed his hands on both sides of my jaw, chuckling as he rested the underside of his cock on top of my face, thinking about how it managed to in my throat when it was bigger than my head. My breath stuttered as Diluc’s tongue kept trying to grab my attention but Kaeya’s thickness always seemed to captivate me no matter how many times I saw it.

 “Very good girl,” he then guided his tip to meet my tongue and let out a low growl while he slowly pushed his entire length into my throat inch by inch. “My good little girl...”

 He wasted no time to fuck my throat as if my head were his toy, his fingers digging into my jaw with each groan that escaped his lips. At times Diluc would suddenly curl his fingers inside me causing me to moan in surprise, which then made Kaeya twitch in ecstacy as the vibrations in my throat clenched tighter around his cock.

 The feeling of being touched by two men at once made my insides burn like a wick fighting for its life at the bottom of a candle. My senses were overloaded as I tried to focus on one aspect of what was going on, darting between sensations as if I couldn’t decide what to pay attention to. Maybe Kaeya’s hands gripping my teary eyed face. Diluc’s fingers prodding my walls. Kaeya’s grunts and groans filling up the room. Diluc’s hot breath panting for air against my folds. Everything that led up to this moment was completely blocked out of my mind and I could think about was how restlessly aroused I was. The brothers’ movements became more merciless and the more I tried to hold back my release, the more it fought back. I found my legs gradually tensing up and my moans becoming more and more desperate to the point where I was dangerously on the edge.

 “Diluc, stop,” Kaeya quickly pulled himself out of my mouth and despite his initial hesitation, Diluc gave my clit one more kiss and pulled his head away to sit up straight. I was a coughing mess when I finally took a deep breath from suffocating for the past few minutes, and as a sign of mercy, Kaeya gently lifted my head to allow better airflow into my throat.

 Despite coughing my organs out, my legs shook violently as I still tried to hold back my release. I whined and wanted to scream in frustration at the denial of my climax, the ropes around my arms and Diluc’s hands pinning me down preventing me from getting up to stimulate myself a little more. Kaeya only laughed sadistically.

 “I knew it. You got a little close there, didn’t you, princess?” he teased. I groaned impatiently as my eyes were glued to his cock, which I noticed had strings of saliva still attached to my face. The drool all over his length only made him smirk, and it made Diluc sigh in envy.

 “P-Please,” I could barely think of words as my body trembled in pleasure, “M-More...”

 Kaeya’s laughter subsided as he caressed my cheek lovingly. “Tell us what you want, baby. Use your words.”

 “M-More...” more tears swelled up in my eyes as I struggled to come up with proper words or coherent thoughts, “K-Kaeya...”

 “Yes, princess?” Kaeya gently reached under me to lift my torso up and Diluc leaned over to help guide my shaking body until I was sitting up with my back leaning against Kaeya, my thighs still pried apart to prevent me from pleasuring myself. Kaeya climbed into the spot behind me while Diluc comfortably sat in front of me, staring at my body as if he were in a trance.

 “I...” the strength in my voice was faltering as I tried to form a sentence, “need you both...”

 “Poor thing. The alcohol must be kicking in,” Diluc placed one hand on the side of my thigh, gently massaging the spot and exchanging looks with Kaeya, who hummed in approval behind me. Kaeya’s hands ran up my from my waist to my shoulders where he began massaging my tenseness away.

 “Just relax now, princess. We’ll take good care of you, okay?”

 “Okay...” I whimpered innocently as I leaned into their massages, taking deep breaths while I bathed in their attention under the moonlight.

 Time always seemed to pass differently when I had a drink. In one moment, the brothers were massaging me to calm me down from edging, and in the blink of an eye, Diluc was pulling me down on top of his chest, kissing my neck softly like he did before. In another blink of an eye, my eyes stared into my reflection from the vanity across the bed to see that my thighs were bound together with rope and Kaeya was leaning over my back, whispering into my ear.

 “Can you tell us what you want now, princess?” he rubbed his cock to spread my wetness to my butthole and I could feel Diluc’s cock radiating heat as it was pressed against my stomach.

 As if the words travelled out on their own, I found my lips muttering, “I want to get stuffed full...”

 And as if the brothers were magical beings that could grant wishes on command, they were strategic and patient when they pushed themselves inside me. Diluc’s hands first pushed me down onto his cock. Each thick inch slowly stretched me out and my eyes widened once I felt his tip finally kiss my cervix. With a sigh of relief and a quivering breath, I planted my cheek into his chest at his sheer size alone, and just when I thought I had settled down comfortably, Kaeya had positioned himself behind me and slowly pushed himself into my other hole. Even though I imagined the pain of having two cocks penetrate me at the same time would be excruciating, the feeling was extraordinary, making me pant like a dog in heat. I subconsciously thanked Kaeya for giving me that drink earlier, knowing their large sizes would have painfully split me open otherwise.

 “Look at yourself in the mirror,” Kaeya groaned as he buried himself as deep as possible. My reflection was all I could stare at. I could clearly see every detail of the sticky situation I was in and I loved every inch of the sight. My attention darted around once again. Diluc’s hands gripping my ass, his knuckles going white with his strong hold on me. Kaeya’s soft hair draping down on me and Diluc, his muscles illuminated by the moon. Diluc’s eyebrows furrowed with his eyes completely closed, breathing heavily at the tight fit. Kaeya’s sapphire eyes staring right back at me, studying every part of this scene just like I was.

 “Don’t hold yourself back this time. Cum all over Master Diluc’s cock for me, okay princess?”

 And with that, he leaned back up, stabilized himself by holding my waist, and began fucking me steadily. Diluc followed suit, keeping his grip on me to fuck my soaking cunt as if he were waiting for this moment his entire life.

 It took awhile for me to process what I was feeling at first. My brain was fully expecting pain, but once I realized I was going to cum after only a few thrusts in, I completely lost control.

 “F-Fuck!” I yelped into Diluc’s chest as I watched the brothers pound into me in the damned mirror, “M-Master!”

 “Which one, baby?” Kaeya teased, earning a slight chuckle from Diluc. I moaned uncontrollably in response, my voice shaking with the way my body was being rocked by the two men who started at different rhythms at first but synced up each thrust moments later.

 “K-Kaeya! Diluc!” I sighed mindlessly, earning grunts from the two of them. They always seemed to be teasing me with chuckles, acting so nonchalant as if they weren’t fucking my brains out at the same time.

 An orgasm immediately hit me like a wave without any warning and I failed to hold back the loud moan that escaped my sore throat. If my legs weren’t tied right now, I would’ve definitely been shaking uncontrollably, but even now my abdomen violently curled up as I rode the waves of my climax. But the two didn’t care. They took my moment of weakness to fuck into me even harder, silently agreeing to pick up the pace and torture me in the best way.

 “Good girl,” Diluc whispered into my ear, clearly picking up the pet name from his brother. “Tightening around me like that... you really are such a good girl.”

 “I felt it too,” Kaeya groaned out, “Can you cum for us again, princess? You’re being such a good slut for us, you know that?”

 “I’m... I’m a good slut...”

 “Then cum for us again,” Diluc’s voice was almost demanding, his movements getting more desperate and sloppy as he started to take a little more dominance in speed over Kaeya, craving the sensation that I gave to him once more. “Cum on my cock, [Y/N].”

 Kaeya ganged up onto the intensity by leaning his chest over my back again, propping himself up with one hand and grabbing a fistful of my hair with the other, making me choke on my own air. “Don’t make him tell you twice, sweetheart. Be a good girl.”

 I had managed to reach my climax again shortly after, panting and trembling as I was cutely sandwiched between the two. As the two groaned at the sensation, they asked for another a few minutes after. And another. Then we collectively switched places so Kaeya could feel me cum around his cock. Kaeya asked for another orgasm. Then one more.

 “I c-can’t fucking take it anymore...!” I screamed into his chest, overstimulated and almost writhing in pain. “P-Please s-stop!”

 The brothers that I knew were long gone by now. Now they were simply horny messes chasing after their own pleasure, edging themselves and using my body as their toy, teasing that the night would be over soon then immediately asking me to cum more. They endlessly praised me about how my body felt so good, how tight the fit was, and how sweet my moans were. And despite the aching pain in my core, I secretly didn’t want this sensation to end either. But alas, all good things come to an end, and Diluc was the first to break.

 “F-Fuck,” he grunted weakly, “I can’t hold it anymore, I’m going to...!”

 “Cum in me,” I panted out, “Fill me with cum, please, Master Diluc...!”

 With a loud groan and a cry of pleasure, Diluc’s thick load had slowly surged through my insides, his cock throbbing with each pump of cum he dumped into my abused asshole. My tongue fell out of my mouth at the sensation of Kaeya still sloppily pounding my cunt while Diluc’s movements slowed until he finally came to a complete stop, his cock still firmly buried to hold his cum inside. Kaeya took this opportunity of having me all to himself to reach a hand to the back of my neck and pull me down for a kiss before finally releasing his seed in me as well, coating my slick covered walls with his seemingly endless loads of cum. Even when his movements began to slow to a stop as well, he continued to kiss me sweetly, sneaking in small smiles here and there before pulling away to press his sweat covered forehead against mine.

 “You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispered proudly, “You’re so perfect, filled with our cum like a good slut.”

 I let out a weak laugh, wiggling my hips gently while the two were still stuffed inside of me. “I feel so good... I’m really filled with cum...” I happily grinned, giggling as I softly cuddled against Kaeya’s forehead.

 “You sure are, cutie.”

 The three of us stayed comfortably in this position for a few moments, taking in the afterglow of such a celestial feeling of finally reaching our climaxes. Our tired pants echoed throughout the room, sweat trickling down our faces and my tears slowly subsiding as Kaeya massaged my scalp and showered my face in more kisses. Diluc let out a deep breath before slowly pulling himself out of me and climbing off of the bed. He started to pick up his clothes from the floor, his eyes glancing at the way his cum slowly trickled down from my hole. Even though I wasn’t facing him, I could practically envision his stupid smug grin forming when he finally decided to say something to us.

 “Can I expect you two for ‘dinner’ sometime again soon?”

[invinciblerodent]

While valid in its points, I feel like your response, however detailed, was very, VERY quickly removed from the original context of what it was responding to, and because of that, fundamentally misunderstood the point of this silly post I made at 3 am.

As in, you're... kind of arguing exactly FOR what I was saying, lol.

Yes, there are a great many things that might stop someone from creating- but. I do have to point out that what sparked my initial anger WAS specifically about a meme someone made (content in itself, also requires minimal time and effort btw) with the specific intention to complain about not exactly the lack of content they want, but the abundance of fanworks about a specific character they don't want to see, deliberately posted in the tags of all the OTHER characters in that cast. Simultaneously more, and LESS than a simple, polite request for more things about a less popular interest.

Make no mistake, reluctance to engage with less popular media is understandable, but my post WAS about textbook entitled bitching. I would not have bat an EYE if it was someone merely saying "I like this character and I'm disappointed that there is so little content about them"- but "I'm tired of only seeing things about XY, why do people make stuff about THEM and not what I like”, (especially when thrown in front of people who already aren't looking for content about that character btw), is a very different, deeply entitled attitude towards fanworks that needs some serious reexamination.

We are on the same exact side here: people have limited time and energy. Whether their interest lies in something less common, or literally the most popular element of a piece of media, we are all using our own limited resources on expressing our love for something- complaining about others not choosing to make things that appeal to YOU specifically is the exact opposite of making these spaces less "shark-infested". That in itself is discouraging creation.

If you have any reason not to want to personally create your own fanworks, but also don't quite literally EXPECT others to... pick up the slack as it were, and do it FOR you (and you don't complain when it doesn't happen fast enough for your liking), this is very clearly not about you.

To use the words of an old teacher of mine, "If it's not your shirt, don't (fucking) put it on."

(eta: no, the f-bomb in there isn't all mine. She was... quite intense, for someone primarily teaching kids 6-10.)

I'm so tired. "Too much XY character content!" "There's not enough content about this and that!" "This character is so underappreciated, I need more content for XY!"

Well make some bloody content then, Samantha

[mjolnir-steve]

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair. 

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too. 

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot. 

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you. 

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings. 

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night. 

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work. 

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.” 

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder. 

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d. 

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?” 

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear. 

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides. 

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.