#but I never know to what level people want it to go

[yandere-romanticaa]

ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔈𝔠𝔥𝔬. - 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓.

❝ your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine, but i wish I was dead. ❞ - dark paradise, lana del rey.

yandere! honkai star rail men. (ana's faves edition.)

❦ Just a little post of my faves on why they love you! I've always been a fan of Valentine's Day because I always have, and always will be a proud Lover Girl™!

❧ 𝔧𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔲𝔞𝔫.

The tender eyed general can name a plethora of things that he loves about you... As a matter of fact, he could spend centuries just sitting in his ravishing garden, surrounded by hundreds of thousands of divine blossoms as he lists the qualities that he finds oh so endearing and appealing.

Frankly, that level of lovesick is a smidge maddening to some people. Others find the general's devotion incredibly charming. It's really a matter of perspective when you think about it.

However, all of his endless praise can be summed up to one thing in particular. You give him a sense of peace.

Pray tell, how many centuries of suffering has Jing Yuan endured? Well, it's difficult to pinpoint because the man is beyond adept at keeping his feelings in check, let alone actually revealing what makes him lose sleep at night. Jing Yuan has lost so much. He has endured far, far too much than one man ought to.

He may be a general, a warrior, a leader - but even he had his own dreams. His own ambitions. All of which became lost to time, strife and duty.

And all of his pain, all of the ache he feels in his shoulders simply melts away whenever you sit by his side. He is no better than a massive, spoiled house cat who just wishes to eat fine treats and be spoiled by your endless love and devotion.

If he could pick how he could die, all Jing Yuan would ever want is to be in your arms. His heart would be still, calm... The tranquility is just so heavenly, however could he give up on such a feeling?

❧ 𝔧𝔦𝔞𝔬𝔮𝔦𝔲.

Life is a strange road to trek on. You never really know what sort of perils you could come across. That was what made things so fun, Jiaoqiu would reckon.

Even if he no longer had the ability to actually see that road anymore...

The foxian was at least happy to know that his other senses had not been dulled thanks to his unfortunate predicament. He may be blind but he was not weak. He was too stubborn for that. Jiaoqiu still wished to fulfill his duty until the bitter end, no matter what the cost.

Stubbornness and an iron clad will can only get you so far though, especially if your body fails to cooperate. His spirit may be strong but his body simply is not.

And you would be there to hold his hand to tell him that it was all going to be alright.

As Jiaoqiu would break into massive coughs, his body giving into the horrible pain, he was still so happy to see that even after everything, you were still there for him.

Your loyalty had remained unshaken.

However could he thank you for this?

He was going to do everything he can to protect you, to love you in the way you deserve to be loved. Just thinking about you made his weak heart feel stronger again...

❧ 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔶.

To be loved is to be heard. And to be heard is simply the greatest gift in the universe.

For as long as he could remember, that was all Sunday did. He would sit patiently as the person on the other side would tell him their biggest secrets, reveal their darkest sins. He had lost count of how many deplorable and depressing things he has heard throughout the years.

It had never even occurred to him that perhaps, he too needed to unveil his own darkness to another.

Without meaning to, he caved into that weakness. He did not even know that he had such a weakness. It was his job to listen, his job to guide, his job to be true. Even after joining the Astral Express, the least he could do was to hear the crew out on their many woes.

And yet, without any real effort, you had managed to break down his walls. You had shattered him for an evening, allowing him to speak his mind.

For the first time in forever, Sunday had been heard. He choked back the sobs, tried to bite down his despair but it was all pointless. All he had to do was to just look into your eyes and he was just so done. You held him like no one ever had, made him feel so vulnerable and weak but oh so happy.

Can you blame the poor little soul for becoming so attached to you after such an incident?

❧ 𝔭𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔬𝔫.

Everyone wants to be a hero.

In one way or the other, most - if not all - people wish to be acknowledged. They wish to hear the praise of their peers, they wish to know that they're doing good. Besides, being a hero has so many perks. People love you, they trust you.

And that same love is a shackle which you can't break out of.

That was how Phainon felt. He had no right to feel scared, he did not have the luxury of bowing out of a battle. If someone even suggested such an idea to him, Phainon would just let out a hearty laugh, his Adam's apple going up and down as his blue eyes shined bright with determination, the grip on his sword steady and more than ready to strike down his foes.

You knew better than to fall for that trick. Even with all that bravado, you could still sense the tiny quiver in his voice. You could see from the corner of your eye how his thighs shake ever so slightly.

Phainon was afraid. And once you had him cornered, you confronted him. Underneath the bright Okhema sky, you told him that it was alright to be terrified. That it was alright to have second doubts. That it was alright to be angry.

He may be a hero but he was still just a man.

And it was in that moment that Phainon realized that there was no need to keep up his hero facade with you. That he could just... be himself. Naturally, he was still cheerful, goofy and silly - teasing you was just too much fun.

But there was just a certain level of trust he felt. He knew that you would never judge him no matter what he did. Phainon was so happy to know that he had a sanctuary in your arms.

A dark corner of his heart trembled at the thought of losing that sanctuary. May the Titans bless him because he did not know what he would do if he lost you...

[timeclonemike]

There's also the Psychology of Betrayal to work with.

In Stephen Parrish's book Anatomy of a Spy, he describes his experiences and the fallout from them while working in the US Army under Clyde Lee Conrad, someone whose name is notorious in espionage circles and not without reason. One of Parrish's most important points is that, when enemy operatives are looking for sympathetic insiders to leverage, the most common and most successful attribute that made a recruit worth recruiting was the impression that they had been betrayed by the organization they worked for. Somebody blackmailed for homosexuality (and you know Hegseth wants to bring those days back) or other career ending secrets might fall on their sword to protect their country, somebody with bad debts may not take the easy way out if it means compromising their ethics and honor, but if the army or country screwed them first? Passed them over for promotion, swept a legitimate grievance under the rug so an abusive superior officer never got disciplined, stuff like that? Almost foolproof.

Right now, a LOT of Republicans are in the Find Out phase, especially the rural voter blocs that have been a GOP cornerstone for ages. Aid and welfare resources are drying up, the price of groceries and fuel is rising, and most important of all it is NOT clear if a congress this divided can pass a Farm Bill, which pretty much the entire American agricultural sector needs to continue existing (whether they admit it or not) and that's WITHOUT Trump or Musk sticking their dick in the process as a power move like they have with other legislation in the past.

When the cognitive dissonance really hits the fan, all these farmers are going to go "he turned on us" because that's a lot easier for them to stomach than "I done shot myself in the foot because I'm a stupid racist redneck who should have minded my own business instead of getting worked up about drag queens" and THAT is where we can get our foot in the door. All that anger (and these people are VERY angry, almost all the time, about something) will be directed towards somebody who is actually responsible for their misery for once. If we play the smart game, we can keep that anger focused on Trump and his ilk, and turn up the heat until the GOP power blocs on the state and national level tear themselves apart. If we play the moral high ground, we turn ourselves into lightning rods and all that hate grounds out on us instead, and it's back to square one.

(Not to mention that there is evidence that the GOP or organizations affiliated with them managed to leverage outrage over the Biden Administration's very real fuck ups like the handling of the Israel-Palestine conflict in such a way that people walked away from the conflict to give Trump just enough of a margin to win again. They've been using it that strategy against us for decades, it's time to turn the tables.)

Remember, politics is all about the lesser of two evils. There is a future where ICE doesn't get to keep their Gestapo cosplay, and trans kids aren't killing each other, and there is a future where you get to feel smug about twisting the knife in a potential ally of convenience. Be VERY certain of what you really want.

[yaseraphine]

pick a card 5 - what are people's first impressions of you ?

masterlist / ko-fi

my last post : your 2025 main lesson and themes.

Pile 1

10 of cups, King of Swords, 9 of Wands, 7 of Swords, 4 of Wands, The Sun, The Lovers, Death

Mischevious, Cunning, Manipulative in a flirtatious way ??, flirtatious, funny, Victorious, Happy, Fun to be around, Doesn’t take responsibility for things, Playful, Too unserious, Hot and sexy, Hot n Fun, Short n Sweet, Wet n Wild, If you’re a woman, people might think you easily get super wet (what is wrong with people respectfully 💀), Femme fatale/fboy boy, You look like trouble pile 1 not gonna lie lmaoo, Too hot to handle, People assume you’re a cheater or just kind of sneaky but all of that dark energy comes out somehow really playful ?? At first glance you exude strong Gemini and Aries energies  : kind of childish and playful, really “oopsie daisy”. They’re impression is that you’re the type of person that plays dumb when you get called out for your misbehavior. People might think you are commitment phobic, A player but people don't even mind to be heartbroken if it's you : “I don’t care if I get played by them tbh” people lowkey want to get heartbroken by you (people are crazy 🤡) 

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re a firecracker. Pile 1 I keep on seeing Maddy from Euphoria and Megan Thee Stallion’s Realer era, Pimpin is a song that plays in the background when you’re walking in the street lmaoo You look like you're always in a badass edit

I am hearing the lyrics “she bad mix the ratchet with the classy ooh so bad i just couldn’t let her past me no i told her “shawty, you so right but you so wrong”. Pile 1, you definitely got that aaah (reference to that one tiktok sound of She Knows - Ne-yo feat Juicy J and T pain). You literally make people do double takes on you.

People directly assume if you came into their life, you would ruin them but they would consent to their own self destruction because of how hot you are.

People's first impressions of you is that you’re a master manipulator, but not a horrible one that genuinely leaves others traumatized forever. You’re flirty, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not, but it's mostly people's delusions and projections that hurt them more than anything. They just assume things when you never meant anything, and honestly I don't even think you give people mixed signals. People mix them up by themselves. Like you smile at them just out of politeness and people are like “ damn they're into me or what ?!” What kind of people are around you Pile 1 ? Never met this level of delusion in my life 😭☠️

Something extremely strange about those impressions is that I don’t think people think you’re toxic ?? Which is a bit weird because I have been only describing manipulative behaviors… Pile 1, your energy is really complex to grasp and it stirs intense and contradictory reactions inside people when they first meet you.

I am getting people make a lot of assumptions about you because it’s not just first impressions. People project a lot on you, probably because you are really attractive and people seem to not be able to think a hot and sexy person can be a good and kind hearted person ??? These people are projecting hard literally

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a really sunny person, a really bright and happy go lucky person. 

They also instantly get that you probably got a lot of suitors and people at your feet, waiting for their chance with you. 

When they talk to you, I feel like people get really insecure and they instantly start to compare your life (i mean the 1000 assumptions of what your life is like that they created in their heads on the spot...) and compare it to their own lives. They compare your eloquence, your energy, your aura, the energy and the vibes you exude with their lack of charisma and presence. I don’t know if you’re around a lot of insecure people but be careful, some of them are secretly waiting for your downfall because of how jealous they are of you.

The type of people that are jealous of you instantly when they first see you are generally the same gender as you. If you’re a man, they compare for example how healthy your hair are, how women are easily attracted to you and follow you everywhere you go . Not going to lie it’s giving Chad VS Nice guy/ Incel kind of dynamic. Like they're internal dialogue would probably something like : “ Nice guys finish last anyways… I am sure he treats girls bad and is a player and girls still love him…It's so fucking unfair.” (such a low vibrational energy yikes 🤢). If you’re a girl, they compare your body, your smile, your makeup and how your outfits fit you perfectly , how their own crushes seem to like you more than them YET you don’t even pay mind to them (the jealous people’s crushes) lol 

Pile 1, I would advise you to be extra protective of yourself and your energy. Your spirit irritates a lot of people’s demons.

I find it interesting because this pile is heavy on gender dynamics, power of attraction,... Most of you here are probably straight, or bisexual at least. I don’t see much queer action going on. You also have a really young and fresh energy so you are probably in your 20s.

You incite a lot of hate, jealousy and envy from the same gender. And you incite a lot of obsession, desire and admiration from the opposite. You incite so much jealousy just by your presence, and it happens almost systematically and starts right when people meet you for the first time. I feel like you might have lilith somewhere prominent in your chart, first house, harshly aspected with your ascendant, also Neptune dominance.

People look at you and they instantly think to themselves “this person should star in a movie, what are they doing working in at the local Walmart ??” or “they should be in the cover of vogue. Why are they in college ? They're too hot to be sitting in a classroom all day ?!!” 

Something I am getting from all this channeling is that people's first impressions of you are generally extreme, and mostly false 💀 Different people have different assumptions about you, but everyone seem to agree that you first come across as a heartbreaker and a player. Basically pile 1, you look like trouble at first glance.

The quote I got for you is a beautiful one from Carl Jung : “People will do anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own souls”

MUSIC : Pimpin by Megan Thee Stallion / Ne-yo feat Juicy J, T-pain - She Knows (Remix) 2014

Pile 2

Ace of Wands Rx, 5 of Wands, 4 of Wands, 6 of Swords, 2 of Swords, 8 of Cups, The Hanged Man, 5 of Pentacles

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re really closed off and standoffish. Really protective over your energy, your time and your space. You appear somehow aggressively defensive, really “get out of my way bitch” type of energy. 

People’s first impressions are that you’re holding on to a lot of pain and hurt which, in result, makes you really hostile. People can see at first glance that you have been through a lot of negative experiences in life, which made you in return cold and distant. 

Pile 2, you give the energy of a black cat, and you hiss at any person trying to approach you too closely. You really have that lone cat energy.

You have the vibes of someone that bites back. I am hearing the audio “Get your fucking dog bitch!! “ / “It don’t bite.” / ‘YES IT DO !!!”. People think you will jump on them at any given moment if they say something that you don’t like,...lol

When they first meet you, people try to be really careful with their words because they are scared that if they say something wrong, they will cross you. If you’re with a group or someone else when people first meet you, they will avoid, out of fear, to directly engage with you, and will observe how your friends or the people that are with you handle you so they can do the same. 

Pile 2, people’s first impressions of you is that you are scary as hell lmaoo

You give people the impression that you’re judging them in a way. You might unintentionally side eye people a lot. You make people uncomfortable with your standoffish attitude. 

Now, this pile is divided in two sub-types : 

you are perceived exactly like what I described above : really bitchy vibes, no bullshit energy. You’re protective of your energy because you have a lot of self-respect and don’t want people to disrespect the way some did to you in the past. 

The second type, you are like this not really because of self-respect but because there is an underlying insecurity, something particularly broken inside of you. It feels almost like you put up this front of confidence and assertiveness and people usually can see right through it. If you’re faking it until making it a lot of people upon their first impressions pick up on that. 

These two sub-types can be blended too, like you could be both at the same time or perceived as both at the same time. (I don’t know if this makes sense )

People’s first impressions of you is that you are really authoritative and controlling. You probably have a really tight schedule that you don’t like to change for anyone. You look like you don’t like to compromise or work in groups. Their first impressions of you are also that you don’t really like change, you don’t like incompetency, and that you have a really good skincare routine (??random as hell lmaoo). 

People think you eat healthy boring food, like bland porridge for breakfast and a bland salad with almost no seasoning, that you snack on overtly expensive cereal and protein bars that taste like grass (people are really funny i swear this is so hyper specific)

I think their first impressions get them to make a few assumptions on you for a few minutes, but then they move on with their lives like “well i don’t know good for them” or “let them be”. People don’t want to get too carried away in the impressions they have of you and the assumptions they make from it because they don’t want to disturb your peace. Like you have an energetic protection that gives them a limited amount of time to ponder on who you might be. Like I am seeing a system almost like the one in Inside out, a little creature, a fairy or a guardian angel, coming into the person’s mind and starting the timer the moment they stare at you or interact with you for the first time with their foot tapping on the floor and their eyebrows frowned, looking over their watch each second ticking with growing impatience. People feel like they have to go through tests to be allowed to think of you deliberately. 

Pile 2, you have really protective guardian angels damn ! They tolerate no bullshit congrats!!

QUOTE : healed people hear differently

SONGS : Focus - Saweetie / Plan B - Megan thee Stallion / Here - Alessia Cara

Pile 3

King of pentacles, The Star, 7 of swords, 10 of Pentacles, Ace of Wands, 10 of Wands, 5 of Cups, Death

When I first started shuffling for your pile, High Maintenance of Saweetie started playing. Pile 3, you’re standing on business ! It was especially this lyric that stood out to me : 

“See I'ma rider but nah I ain't a die

'Cause I wouldn't take a bullet for a n***a, that's a lie”

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a workaholic with all your life figured out. You have a clear path of where your life will take you. 

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re extremely busy and productive, but, despite that, you are not a robot that does things mindlessly and repetitively. No, you are your own unique person, you have a clear and  higher vision, you seem like a complex individual with a mind of your own.

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a complex individual, with many layers. Instantly, people want to get to know you and get closer to you. They want to know your backstory, and what led you to be so passionate about everything you do today. They want to know how you seem to manage everything in your life so gracefully. 

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a deep soul that learned to make peace with the lighter side of life. You know when to let go and have fun, and when to cling onto things and be serious about things. 

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re beautiful, I am even hearing “striking”. 

People perceive your beauty as being ethereal. It’s not an instagram model type of pretty or handsome, it’s more sophisticated, it’s unique, it is just “you”. 

Maybe a lot of you are not conventionally attractive, you have a particular physical trait, something that makes you stand out instantly. It usually disturbs people a bit when they first meet you like “Oh!...”. I don’t know if you get what I am trying to say lol It is like you’re a woman with really thick and black body hair, but, instead of hiding them or shaving them, you just let them be there. You don’t really care much whether people see them or not. It could also be that you have back acne, and this does not stop you from wearing tank tops or just let them be visible. You don’t try to make a bold statement by doing this, because you’re just like “It’s natural what can I do about this ? It is what it is.” . People immediately pick up on this type of mentality from you. People want you to teach them how to do it. I am hearing “Teach me your ways master” lol . You seem really wise and you know how to not take everything personally. Really an old soul. 

Back to the physical trait thing (because I think people scrutinize your face a lot when they first meet you), you might have a roman nose, or you might look really “ethnic” or “exotic” to people. Maybe you’re a POC in a predominantly white environment, or you just look quite different from your peers.

-> Ok guys, I am picking up on something INSANE. People who would usually bully others for that physical trait you have, sense your strong self-respect and energy and are instantly subconsciously afraid to make fun of you or to try to belittle you. This is actually so fucked up what… I don’t know what is going on in this entire reading but a lot of low vibrational energies were channeled. Anyways. I feel like you grew up being the weird kid that grew into your features and personality, and now, retired high school bullies (not the one that bullied you, if it happened, just general retired high school bullies) lowkey sense they would have bullied you in the past if you were in the same class as them but now can’t do it because it’s lame and not socially acceptable for adults to do shit like that.

People are kind of scared to sit in your energy for too long when they first meet you and have their impressions about you because they feel like their energies are not high vibrational enough for them to be allowed to sit in your powerful energy for too long ?? Lol You intimidate people a lot but they don’t know why, they just feel the urge to shut the f up in your presence and just bathe in your energy silently ?? Weird 

Okay Pile 3, keep it up , never let people dim your light ! Your soul has a powerful pure essence that will  take you far in life.

QUOTE : My soul has traveled long and far to find yours

SONGS : Froot - MARINA / High Maintenance - Saweetie / Icy - ITZY

[feartosexpipeline]

kiss me in the dark tonight

___ sat cross legged on Sarah’s bed, eyes continuously darting to the open doorway. Fuck, where was he?

“What do you think Sarah, are you and Topper going to Midsummers together?” Elena Reedy asked, a fake smile plastered on her face as if she wasn’t seething with jealousy. ___ didn’t know what all the fuss about Topper was, he was mediocre in bed at best. It’s not like Sarah or Elena was missing out on much. 

“I think so,” Sarah smiled, playing with her hair. “I think...we’re going to take the next step that night. It’ll be big, for both of us.”

Oh right, he had told Sarah he was a virgin. 

“What about you ___? Who are you going with?” The girls had now turned their attention to her, hawklike stares bearing down on her.

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m going,” ___ said uncomfortably. The thought of being stuck in a building with all of the most insufferable people she could imagine left a pit of dread in her stomach; she had much better things to do. Plus, Topper and her had been caught last year in a supply closet by the waitstaff, and she was reminded of that humiliation every time she went to the country club. The only reason the two girls sitting in front of her didn’t know about it was because her friend had been the one that caught them. She found it exceptionally funny to make fun of her every time they saw each other, and ___ begrudgingly let her on the condition she never tell a soul.

“What? You have to go, what do you mean you’re not going?” Sarah looked aghast at the thought of not going, and ___ was once again reminded of how little she had in common with her supposed “friend”. 

“I don’t know, we’ll see. I’m going to get a drink,” ___ announced, unable to take this conversation any longer. “You guys want anything?”

After the girls murmured their no thanks, ___ jumped off the bed and made her way to the kitchen. As she made her way downstairs, she was about to turn the corner when a rogue arm yanked her into the laundry room. She almost yelped before a rough hand clasped over her mouth, muffling her.

“Miss me?” a familiar voice rasped into her ear. A shiver went through her body as she pulled his hand down.

“You scared me half to death,” she hissed. She wasn’t really mad though. He knew that. 

‘Mmhm,” Rafe murmured, before pushing her against the door and kissing her deeply, leaving no chance for protest. Not that she was going to, anyways.

Still kissing her, he pulled her towards the washing machine and promptly set her on it. Now that she was sitting on top of the washing machine, she could feel how hard he really was when he grinded into her, his hips level with hers. He only stopped kissing her so he could mouth her neck and pull the top of her dress down, sucking hard. 

“Rafe they’re gonna see,” she whined, doing nothing to stop him. Instead, she kept pressing her hips into his, relishing the way he groaned. 

“I don’t give a fuck,” he replied breathily, continuing his assault on the delicate skin. After she grinded into him for the umpteenth time, he pulled back and practically yanked her off the machine.

“You wanna tease me?” he almost growled, flipping her over so she was bracing herself against the washing machine. “You wanna be a little tease? Alright then.”

He shoved her dress up and pushed her panties to the side, giving her little time to prepare before roughly shoving his cock into her. She let out a cry that was quickly muffled by his big hand once again, but this time she could taste the metal of his rings on her tongue.

“Gotta be quiet now huh?” he whispered, and she could practically hear the grin in his voice. “Don’t want them to hear, now do we?” He thrusted into her again, but her cry was still muffled. He moved his hands down to the other side of her waist as he dragged his cock out of her, ever so slowly. He teased her entrance with the head, spreading the slick he had collected from fucking her all over her pussy. After a few shallow thrusts, he punched his hips forward so hard, the air left her lungs. The pain left waves of pleasure coursing through her body, and she knew she would feel it in the morning. 

After that he didn’t hold back. He kept fucking her, hard and deep. ___ tried her best not to make a sound, a Herculean task given the way it felt having Rafe split her pussy open. With every thrust, it felt like he was digging his cock in as far as it could humanly go, whether or not her body would allow it. 

After she let out another dangerously loud cry, Rafe said not a word before snaking his hand over her mouth. He pounded into her, fucking her deeper and deeper until she felt like she couldn’t take it anymore and fell over the edge. She came so quick it was embarrassing and so hard she saw stars in her eyes. Her legs buckled momentarily before Rafe quickly grabbed her hips and continued his assault on her pussy. He wasn’t far behind, letting out a loud groan while simultaneously cumming so hard it dripped down her legs when he pulled his cock out. 

She let out a noise of displeasure. “You know, I have to go back to them after this,” she said, attempting to clean herself up so her friends wouldn’t suspect anything.

“I know,” he smirked, zipping his pants up. “You staying the night?”

“I am.”

“You should...come find me. When they’re asleep. Maybe I can teach you how to be quiet this time.”

***

___ laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as she counted down the minutes until 2:00 am came. Sarah and Elena had been up much longer that she had anticipated, discussing the potential dresses Sarah was going to wear to Midsummers in excruciating detail. By the time they all said goodnight, ___ could feel her eyes twitching and her patience had worn thin.

“It’s gonna be Topper and I’s big night, it has to be perfect,” Sarah whined when ___ tried to convince her it didn’t matter what dress she wore and that she would look great in anything. ___ personally thought Elena was trying to lowkey sabotage Sarah. She kept suggesting dresses that clashed with her complexion, and hairstyles that could pass for a rats nest under the right light.

“Do you think Topper is nervous?” Elena asked her with the most disingenuous smile ___ had ever seen on her face.

“I don’t know, maybe? I mean, it’s not like he’s done it before either?” Sarah responded, holding up different earrings to her face as she looked in the mirror.

 ___ wondered what Sarah would think of her precious little boyfriend if she knew of the absolutely diabolical mess they had made of the backseat of his Range Rover last Midsummers.

___ was jolted away from her train of thought by a little buzzing sound coming from her phone. She checked the screen to see who texted her.

“Come over.”

Rafe. Who else?

She quietly slid off the bed, taking care not to wake up Sarah and Elena next door. They shared Sarah’s bed while ___ was relegated to the guest bedroom. She would’ve been more upset about it, but at least that made what she was about to do a lot easier. 

___ closed the door behind her and tiptoed as silently as she could to the room across the hall. As if he could sense she was there, Rafe abruptly opened the door to his bedroom and yanked her inside.

“You know, I’m capable of walking in by myself,” she muttered as she rubbed the place on her arm where he had grabbed her. He didn’t say anything, instead shushing her by holding up a finger to his lips. Before she could protest, he came up to her and grabbed her face in both hands, kissing her hard.

He kept kissing her as he moved her towards the bed, while they undressed in a frenzy. There was an air of desperation between them as he pulled his shirt off over the back of his head and she hurriedly shed her clothes. He hadn’t been able to take his time with her earlier, but now he would get his chance. 

When they got to the bed, he roughly pushed her so she bounced a little when she hit the bed. Before she could complain, he settled between her legs and licked a hard stripe up her center. She threw her head back and let out a moan, and she knew the only reason he wasn’t giving her hell for it was because he was lost in his own world. 

He spread her open even further with his fingers, giving his mouth even more access to her pussy. As he sucked on her clit, her grip on his hair tightened and he let out a little moan. He was almost devoted in the way he ate her out: slow, methodical, and oh so intense. She could feel her orgasm barreling its way toward her, and just as she was about to cum, he pulled back.

“What are you—”

Before she could finish, Rafe grabbed her waist and flipped her around on all fours. She barely had time to get her bearings before he was shoving her face in the pillow and his cock inside her.

The groan he let out was bordering on a growl; that’s when she remembered he hadn’t been touched at all yet. The stretch hurt—her body hadn’t been given enough time to acclimate. Normally he wouldn’t care about letting her adjust, but this night he stayed buried to the hilt for just a moment; his breathing shallow as if he was catching his breath.

Just as she was about to ask him if he was okay, he pulled. He started teasing her entrance with the head of his cock, gathering the slick that had accumulated and smearing it around. She thought he was going to tease her more when without warning, he thrusted inside her so hard she nearly had the wind knocked out of her. As she let out a gasp that was muffled by the pillow, she could feel his thumbs spreading her open so he could go even deeper. 

“Rafe please, I need time—”

“Shut up, or I’m gonna go even harder,” he grunted. One hand moved from her waist to her back, pressing down and angling her body.

She could feel her orgasm building up again, and she knew Rafe would taunt her for how easy she was. She tried to hold back, but in the end it was futile. Her whole body tensed up right before she came, her legs nearly giving out. Her cries were muffled by the pillow, something she was grateful for since Sarah’s room was right across the hall. 

Rafe’s ironclad grip on her body was the only reason she didn’t collapse on the bed. His thrusts were becoming increasingly erratic, and she knew he was going to cum soon. 

He came with a loud, guttural, moan, not bothering to muffle himself. ___ would've chastised him if she could think straight, but her head was spinning. She was still trying to catch her breath when he collapsed next to her and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. 

“See you at Midsummers tomorrow?”

[patricide1885]

This argument will never end for a specific reason. I know this is risky but I'd like to try to directly, albeit clumsily, address the elephant in the room that I think we all know exists but have been avoiding because we don't want conservatives and TERFs to use it against us.

Not all people under the trans umbrella are the same. By their own admission (as in, if you ask them directly what their socialization experience is), not all trans people of either gender have the same socialization experience, and at some point we need to accept that.

And yet we have to pretend that everyone is coming from the same place because obviously we don't want to say there are "real" and "fake" trans people. But regardless, the only thing we *all* have in common is that we identify as a gender different than what was assigned at birth. Which "identity" can mean multiple things in itself.

In the end, everyone should have full autonomy over their bodies regardless of reason. But to pretend that we are all doing this for the same reason of have the same gender experience is simply not true. And that's why a lot of trans people are so fucking transphobic/transmisogynistic towards other trans people - they're projecting because they don't actually see themselves as the gender they identify as in the same way, or have different understandings of what that means.

For example, in my experience FTMs might see themselves as simply a "guy with a medical condition", a "girl pretending to be a guy", a "a third gender that's guyish", "a female that identified as a man", "a person who doesn't think gender is real but likes being in the male category the best given the options". Some identify as lesbians as well as as men. Some people identify /as/ trans itself where others will identify as male or female, and view trans as either an adjective or a verb. Some view transness as "wanting to be" x gender, and others have an internal sense that they simply are and always have been the gender they say. And everything in between.

This also explains why so many trans people endorse the "gender/sex" divide. For me that's insane and hurtful. When I transitioned, gender wasn't even my focus, I was occupied by my sex dysphoria. Do I identify as a man? Well yeah, but, I can't comprehend being happy with calling myself a "female man". I am not going to say such people are not real, or valid, or that I am somehow "realer" or more valid than them, but they are different from me. Our self concepts and experiences are different.

So there are trans women and trans men out there who don't actually fully see themselves as the gender/sex they identify as or have the same experience of gender. And unsurprisingly they often act accordingly. I have seen plenty of a examples from both sides. And I have also met many trans people who absolutely were socialized as the gender they identify as. I also think a lot of people had a secret third thing.

I think to pick up socialization you have to either believe on a deep unconscious level that that socialization is for you or you have to fail the other socialization (among other things that also affect cis people). I don't think this decides whether you're a valid trans person or not, and I think it's a spectrum. Personally, I have noticed that in certain ways I'm more male socialized than a lot of the trans men I interact with. I did identify with a lot of male messages as a child, and I failed at being feminine despite myself in many ways. But I wasn't fully male socialized in that there are a lot of things I had to learn and unlearn, and there are things both positive and negative that I simply for one reason or another just didn't pick up. I don't think that makes me less valid as a trans person.

I know this opens up a horrifying can of worms that people can use for transphobia and transmisogyny. But it's the truth. And I'm tired of us tip-toeing around it. Until we face the messiness of transness head on, 1. Some people will be told real things they see aren't real, which will lead to full on reactionary beliefs as they are forced to either not believe themselves or be full on reactionaries (especially when the trans person themselves is saying that they are male socialized or only kind of a woman or what have you - that's kinda hard to refute then), whereas 2. Many trans people themselves will secretly feel that their validity is a house of cards that they have to keep on posturing to hide and be constantly terrified that others will discover this. But there's nothing wrong with the truth outside of the fact that we fear reactionaries won't accept it and we are afraid to be subject to intense gender scrutiny.

And again, the thing is - it's not a secret. Trans people say this stuff all the time. Some trans women casually say they were "male socialized", or that they don't have dysphoria, or they didn't identify as their gender until recently, or that they to this day still see themselves as a man with a female body. And the same goes for trans men, who often actively shrink away from being considered men-men and pointedly identify as a "trans man" rather than a "man", because they want you to know that they're not like those "evil" cis men - that they're intrinsically different somehow. And obviously many say all the time that they were "female socialized" and use that as a cudgel against trans women, because if they are "female socialized", obviously all trans men are too, and therefore obviously all trans women are male socialized too, right? That is the logical conclusion to understanding trans people as a sort of monolith who have a consistent shared experience.

Pretend you didn't see that.

This is a level of transmisogyny that is somewhat hard to comment on because the things that one would normally point out as transmisogynistic implications are said so brazenly that there can be no pretense about any of the involved parties being unaware of it. The authors know, the readers know, everybody understands that this is pure transmisogyny. There is no plausible deniability.

It's an attempt to establish proximity between transfems and cis manhood in every way possible. Their bodies, their histories, their "socialization", the way they are treated by others, the way they treat and view others, their ways of thinking, even their self-conception. Every aspect of their being is cast as essentially male. Transfems are being called "men" in all but name - and not just any "men", they are made into embodiments of the worst aspects of hegemonic manhood. Not just male socialized but continuing to benefit from male socialization. Not just engaging in abusive behaviors stemming from male socialization but being afforded the freedom to do so because they continue to be treated as men. (Suffice it to say that this does not align with reality)

This is unadulterated sex-essentialism and it's intentionally being used to delegitimize and devalue the standpoint of transfems in feminist discourses. It's clear that the author is projecting transmisogynist ideas onto transfems and simply assumes that these ideas must be correct without considering any alternative. (The fact that transfems do not internalize "male socialization" has been reiterated many times over and should not have to be continually reasserted. This is a baseline level of understanding that we should be able to expect and demand from members of our community.)

Misogyny is framed as being contained within the realms of sexed bodies and gendered socialization in such a way that it allows for the casting of transfems as people enacting misogyny without being primary targets themselves - like cis men.

The claim that the animosity some transfems exhibit towards men comes from wanting to "prove" their womanhood serves the double purpose of casting their womanhood as inauthentic and denying the misogyny they suffer at the hands of men. One would be hard pressed to find a more cruel mischaracterization of transfems' experiences than this.

The cynical misappropriation of the standpoint of the people this screed is directed at by the use of "we" despite making it abundantly clear that the behavior that is being criticized and its supposed causes exempt people such as the author from the possibility of engaging in it should also be noted as an attempt at weaponizing a compromised version of standpoint epistemology against transfems.

The only plausible target audience for this kind of rhetoric are those who carry extreme ressentiment towards transfems and are susceptible to softened formulations of TERF ideology. These are the same kinds of ideas that TERFs have tried to push into trans spaces numerous times, e.g. under names like "sex-conscious feminsim".

A formulaic "retreat" from this post consisting entirely of platitudes has been published after the author received backlash for it but nobody is under any obligation to accept it and they absolutely should not. A person who was very obviously attempting to promote TERF ideology in trans spaces and in the same stroke accused transfems of being uniquely prone to making false accusations is not trustworthy, even if that person backs down upon realizing that the reception is more uniformly negative than anticipated.

@genderqueerdykes @gateway-2000 is a transmisogynist, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Its entire worldview is permeated by transmisogynistic assumptions, ideas and biases at a fundamental level. It has straightforwardly expressed an understanding of transfems' interiorities, their experiences and their social positions that is so incorrect that one has to wonder how someone holding these views could have navigated trans communities for a considerable amount of time without encountering the many transfeminist rebuttals to all of its demagoguery. How could someone with even a passing level of familiarity with TERF ideology or "gender critical feminism" read and espouse these ideas without recognizing them? It's completely unthinkable. It's not unreasonable to assume that it simply misjudged the consensus within its audience as being sufficiently anti-transfeminist for ideas such as these to fall upon fertile ground and it is now going back to waiting until the time is ripe to reintroduce them and to expressing them in more subtle ways until then.

But you can't un-ring a bell.

We can and should assert boundaries against reactionaries engaging in obvious subversion such as this. Refusing to do so is a deleterious error in judgement. This is very far beyond the limits of what any trans community that wants to consider transfems a part of itself can be allowed to tolerate.

[incorrectfatui]

some Fatui headcanons before we resume the quotes (some funny, some sad, some just random idk) these are all over the place but oh well Pierro: Really liked talking to Signora about magic. They both use very different kinds, but they still have similar understandings, and no one else really wants to hear him ramble

Capitano: Oblivious to romantic relationships. Thinks everyone is just really good friends.

Dottore: Got so seasick on the way to inazuma and back, that he genuinely considered never visiting again. Spent like 5 months trying to research medication against motion sickness and ended up poisoning himself. Intentionally makes mathematical mistakes in his budget reports, just to annoy Pantalone.

Columbina: can't swim.

Arlecchino: Says "I don't have a favourite child", but definitely has a favourite child. Tried making Dad jokes once and failed miserably, mostly because she didn't understand the joke herself. Sometimes forgets that most the Harbingers are immortal, so she'll have situations where she mentions researching some long dead person, only for one of the others to go "oh i knew that dude personally". Somewhat salty that she isn't hundreds of years old.

Crucabena: Her birthday is on christmas. She doesn't know what christmas is, so it doesn't matter, but she just gives off the vibe of being born in winter and I think it'd be funny. Wrote letters trying to get Neuvilette to implement the death penalty monthly, but never received a reply. Has, one more than one occasion, used Hydro not to fight, but to drown people, because she liked watching them struggle.

Clervie: her and Peruere once illegally operated an Aquabus while on a mission. Peruere may have used it to commit vehicular manslaughter. Also she made mother's day presents every year, despite them being thrown away. Tried to teach herself elemental magic, but couldn't figure it out without a teacher. Once overheard Crucabena praying to the Cryo Archon. briefly had hope that she changed for the better, only to hear "Thank you your Majesty for giving me the ability to give people hypothermia".

Lyney: Genuinely thought Arlecchino was a guy for like 3 months after being adopted. Also sometimes forgets that Freminet isn't his biological brother.

Lynette: More cat-like than Lyney. Has caught birds and eaten them raw before, but doesn't do it anymore, even though Arlecchino approves.

Freminet: More powerful than Lyney and Lynette, even if it doesn't seem like it. Doesn't have all that much control over his cryo vision yet, so he mostly uses it as a support for his claymore, instead of the other way around.

Pulcinella: Has a lot of fun calling everyone a child, even if he isn't older than them. Dottore? Unruly teenager. Scaramouche or Sandrone? Practically a toddler. Arlecchino and Childe? Babies. Only ones he doesn't do this to is Columbina and Pierro. Columbina because he's scared, Pierro because of respect.

Scaramouche: One of the only people who actually understands how Ei's Realm of Euthmiya works. Has tried to explain it to several people, including Pierro and Dottore, but get's frustrated every time because they don't understand it exactly. So overcharged with electro energy, that touching him may give you a small shockl (yes, even after Sumeru). Is actually not completely sure how his body actually works, and neither is Nahida. Dottore has a pretty level of knowlegde (although he still gets a lot of surprises), but the only one who actually understands his body completely is Ei.

Sandrone: Tried to become active in Fontainian politics at some point. Promptly fell asleep in the courtroom because she spent several all-nighters trying to complete a project of hers. Complicated feelings about Scaramouche, ranging from "I want to dissect him" to "no one understands this guy more than me, ignore the fact that we talk like once every 5 years"

Signora: Even with the cryo delusion, her body temperature runs really, really hot. Is basically a walking heater- Columbina likes using her as a portable source of warmth. Also, her blood being liquid fire is not an exaggeration- got wounded in the palace one time, only to burn down half a library.

Pantalone: Once suggested suing Raiden Ei for child support. It did not work.

Childe: Completely unaware that Arlecchino isn't the first Knave. Thinks she's immortal too. Also only figured out that Dottore has clones after about a year of being a Harbinger.

[ephemeralinstance]

Lavellan in Veilguard

The scenes with the Solas-romancing Lavellan in Veilguard are, for me, one of the writing highlights of the game. Of course there are limitations with her being an NPC, but I think that subject to the constraints of the structure of the game, the writer did a really great job of a very difficult piece of writing - creating a depiction of the character that fits with thousands of different versions of Lavellan.

First of all, Lavellan's dialogue is elegant and lyrical, matching the cadence in which Solas speaks and thus showing how in-tune they are even after all these years. One thing I loved about Inquisition was that the language was often really beautiful, so I enjoyed seeing that kind of poetic language return here, and I think the writer understood and captured the heart of what a lot of people loved about the Solas romance - the poetry and beauty of it.

In addition, we get a range of different emotions. Lavellan expresses sadness ('He meant that much'), passion ('You've felt the power of that mind'), anger ('He left me to clean up his mess'), self-doubt ('Am I the prideful one?'). Whatever reaction you personally envision your character as having, you can find it represented in what she says here. I know some people wished Lavellan could have more of an angry confrontation with Solas, but that probably wouldn't have been possible without just allowing us to directly control Lavellan; I think the writer achieved a good compromise by showing us her anger and hurt in this conversation. 

At the same time, she's shown to be mature, self-aware, and reflective. We see her questioning herself, asking 'Am I the prideful one, imagining his broken heart so I'd never have to face my folly?' Lavellan isn't deluded; she's not romanticizing what happened. If she chooses to go with him, it's clear that she isn't naive or being manipulated. She's making this choice in a fully aware, thoughtful manner. And although Lavellan loves Solas deeply, he isn't her first priority. It's important that when Rook asks her if she'd be willing to leave with Solas, she states, 'No. We have to save the world first.' We're shown very clearly that she has a life outside of Solas, and she prioritizes her duty to the people of Thedas: only once her task is done is she able to put herself first, and finally choose her own desires over her duty for once. It's also impressive how clearly she understands Solas, as evident in her speculation that he's left clues because part of him wants to be stopped. I particularly liked the fact that she's shown to have a deeper understanding of him than Rook, as seen in their exchange about 'lies of the heart.' Rook just sees one superficial version of Solas as 'god of lies,' whereas Lavellan understands that although Solas did lie to her, at a deeper level he isn't good at concealing what he really feels. Lavellan absolutely knows and understand Solas' flaws and the 'bad' side of him that Rook has seen, but she also knows a different side of him that no one else has seen. If Lavellan chooses to go with him, it's because she understands him completely: she sees all the good and all the bad in him, and she chooses him anyway.

Finally, sometimes I see people critiquing Lavellan for being passive or not having much going on apart from her connection with Solas. Now first off, this clearly isn't true, since she spends the whole game mustering the armies of the south and sending detailed missives about her military operations - no one in Thedas has more going on than this woman! 

But also, it's important to keep in mind that Lavellan isn't supposed to be a fully-fleshed out character: she's specifically left vague enough so that you can fill in the details with your own Lavellan. For example, we're not told much about what she's been up to in the last ten years, but of course that's not because she's done nothing but pine for Solas: it's simply left unspecified so it can be compatible with different headcanons. Lavellan is specifically written to allow us to fill in the details, and the measure of success is not whether she comes off as a fully-developed character to people who don't have their own Solas-romancing Lavellan (honestly, those people shouldn't even be commenting, this writing isn't for them); the measure of success is whether she works as a stand-in for all of our individual versions of Lavellan. And although of course it's never going to be possible to please everyone, I think the writer did a great job within the limitations of what was possible in the plot.

[th3mrskory]

Chapter 9: Across the Divide

Pairing: Original fem!Reader x Origins!Logan Warning: angst, fluff, 18+ MDNI, SMUT, explicit language, loss of virginity, handjob, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, missionary, creampie.

A/N: If Chapter 8 was a punch to the gut, this one is… well, let’s call it an attempt at first aid. Sort of. Have you ever watched two people try to fix something in the worst possible way, only for it to somehow work because they don’t know any other language but this? Yeah. That.

Consider this a little Valentine’s Day treat. Twisted, messy, and completely them. Read when you’re ready. And yes, my inbox is still open for any and all reactions.

Word count: 7 k

© th3mrskory. don’t copy, translate, or use my works in any form with AI, ChatGPT or any other automated tools. I only share my stories here, so if you see them posted elsewhere, i’d appreciate it if you let me know.

The yard had grown quiet as the other workers moved further into the forest, leaving Logan to finish stacking the last of the wood alone. The sharp bite of winter hung in the air, his breath clouding in front of him with every exhale. The solitude was welcome—at least, that’s what he told himself.

But the silence didn’t stop the memories.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

Logan clenched his fists, the words circling in his mind like a relentless echo. He grabbed a log from the pile and slammed it onto the stump, the impact reverberating through his arms. The ax swung down, splitting the wood clean in two.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced.”

He knew better than to hope for steady ground, better than to let himself believe he could hold onto something good. With Evelyn, it had felt different—like maybe, just maybe, he could carve out a life that didn’t feel like running or regret.

Now, it felt like a mistake.

The kiss he’d seen replayed over and over in his head, each time cutting deeper. It wasn’t just her ex he was angry at, though the smugness on the bastard’s face made Logan’s blood boil. No, most of the anger was for himself—for being stupid enough to think he could be enough for her.

The crunch of boots on gravel pulled him from his thoughts. Pete and Rick approached from the truck, their faces drawn with concern.

“You alright, Howlett?” Pete asked, his voice cautious but probing.

Logan didn’t look up, hefting another log onto the stump. “I’m fine.”

Pete and Rick exchanged a glance, the kind that said he’s definitely not fine.

“Look,” Pete began, leaning on the tailgate. “You don’t want to talk about it. But you’ve been going at this woodpile like it owes you money. Maybe take a second to breathe?”

“I don’t need a breather,” Logan said flatly, his tone daring them to push further.

Rick, quieter but no less perceptive, stepped up beside Pete. “You don’t have to talk,” he said after a pause, his voice measured. “But if you keep bottling it up, it’s gonna come out sideways.”

Logan didn’t respond, his focus locked on the ax as he brought it down with enough force to split the log cleanly.

Pete let out a low whistle. “Man, whatever’s eating at you must be big. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Logan finally stopped, leaning on the ax handle and leveling Pete with a glare. “I said I’m fine.”

“Sure, sure,” Pete said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But if you keep this up, there won’t be any wood left in the yard for the rest of us.”

Rick sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “Look, Logan. I don’t know what happened with Evelyn, but if she’s got you this twisted up, maybe she’s worth hearing out.”

Logan’s grip on the ax tightened, his jaw clenching as he stared at the ground. The truth in Rick’s words cut deeper than he cared to admit.

“Not my place to butt in,” Pete added, though his grin said otherwise. “But if you’re spending this much time stewing over it, she’s probably thinking about you, too.”

Logan shot them both a sharp look, then yanked the ax from the stump and turned toward the forest. “Leave it alone,” he muttered, stalking off into the trees without another word.

Pete waited until Logan was out of earshot before muttering, “Yeah, that went well.”

Rick shrugged, grabbing the thermos from the truck bed. “He’ll figure it out. He always does.”

During the course of the next couple of days the rhythm of the yard was the same, but Logan’s presence felt heavier. He worked harder than usual, his focus razor-sharp, but the tension in his frame was impossible to ignore.

Pete and Rick kept their distance this time, their occasional glances filled with concern.

By midday, Logan had thrown himself into another project, replacing a broken tool rack near the shed. His movements were precise, his jaw set in determination. But even as he worked, his mind wandered—back to the driveway, to Evelyn’s face when she saw him, and to the kiss that had shattered something inside him.

The guys noticed, but they didn’t say a word. Pete started a fire near the edge of the clearing, his usual jokes subdued. Rick passed by with a nod but left Logan to his thoughts.

By the time dusk fell, Logan was still at it, the hammer in his hand swinging with a force that bordered on reckless.

Tension seemed to follow him wherever he went, and his coworkers gave him a wide berth, exchanging knowing glances but keeping their distance.

The others gave him a wide berth, the tension in the yard thick enough to cut with a blade. Midday, the office phone rang, its shrill tone breaking the monotony of the worksite. Rick wiped his hands on a rag as he stepped inside to answer.

“Yeah, this is Rick,” he said, leaning against the desk.

“Hey, it’s Mary,” his wife’s voice came through the line, light but concerned. “Thought you’d want to know—I saw Evelyn back in town. She was at the general store this morning.”

Rick raised an eyebrow, glancing out the window toward Logan. “That right?”

“She looked... well, not great. Like she’s been through it. Thought Logan might want to know.”

Rick thanked her and hung up, stepping back outside with a purposeful stride. Pete caught his eye as he walked toward Logan, who was hunched over another stack of wood.

“What’s the news?” Pete asked.

Rick ignored him, stopping a few feet from Logan. “Hey, Howlett,” he called out, his tone even.

Logan didn’t look up. “What?”

Rick hesitated, then said, “Mary saw Evelyn in town this morning. Thought you’d want to know.”

Logan froze, his hands stilling on the axe handle. For a moment, it looked like he might respond, but then he shook his head and resumed working.

“Good for her,” he muttered, his voice flat.

Pete stepped forward, frustration evident in his expression. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re hurting, and so is she. Go talk to her.”

Logan’s grip on the axe tightened, his knuckles white. “I said I don’t care,” he snapped.

Pete sighed, throwing up his hands. “Alright, fine. Be stubborn. But don’t come crying to us when it’s too late.”

Rick shot Pete a warning look, but Logan didn’t seem to hear them anymore. He swung the axe down with a force that sent the wood flying, the conversation over.

When the day finally ended, Logan climbed into his truck, his body aching from the nonstop work. The drive home was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound to fill the cab.

As he pulled onto the dirt road leading to his cottage, his headlights illuminated a familiar vehicle parked in his driveway. Logan’s chest tightened, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he slowed to a stop.

It was Evelyn’s truck.

For a long moment, he sat there, staring at it, his mind racing. A part of him wanted to get out, to see her, to hear whatever explanation she had to offer. But the memory of that kiss, of her ex standing so close to her, was a wound that hadn’t stopped bleeding.

With a sharp exhale, Logan put the truck in reverse and backed down the road.

He didn’t look back.

The next day Logan was halfway to the kitchen when he noticed the Polaroid resting on the mantle—the one Evelyn had taken of herself.  

He stared at it for a long moment, his chest tightening as he reached out to pick it up. The sight of her smile—the carefree warmth in her eyes—brought a lump to his throat he couldn’t swallow.  

A sudden knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. He hesitated, his grip on the Polaroid tightening as he listened.  

“I know you’re there, Logan,” Evelyn’s voice called softly from the other side. “Are you done running away from me? Please... let me explain.”  

Logan’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the photo in his hand. He didn’t move.  

“Logan,” she tried again, her voice trembling. “I’m not leaving until you hear me out.”  

Still, he didn’t answer.  

The minutes stretched on, the silence heavy and suffocating. Eventually, Evelyn exhaled shakily, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry. For everything. For not stopping him, for not calling you first. I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me.”  

When the sound of her footsteps receded, Logan finally let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He sat down heavily, the Polaroid still in his hand as the weight of the past few days pressed down on him like a boulder.  

They didn’t speak for a week after Evelyn’s return. The silence between them was deafening, but neither seemed willing to bridge the gap.

The logging yard was alive with the rhythmic sound of axes striking wood, the hum of engines, and the occasional crack of a tree falling in the distance. Evelyn’s truck rolled into the gravel lot, its tires crunching softly against the frozen ground. Her heart pounded as she parked near the edge of the clearing, unsure if she had made the right decision by coming here.

As she stepped out, the cold air nipped at her cheeks, her breath visible in the chill. Her gaze scanned the bustling yard until it landed on two familiar figures standing near the truck bed—Rick and Pete. They noticed her almost instantly, exchanging a quick glance before Pete raised a hand in greeting.

“Miss Evelyn!” Pete called, his tone warm but tinged with curiosity. He closed the distance between them, wiping his hands on his flannel shirt. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Everything alright?”

She hesitated, shifting on her feet as Rick joined them, his expression more reserved but just as welcoming.

“Is Logan here?” she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

Pete and Rick exchanged another look, this one heavier.

“He’s around,” Rick said carefully, his arms folding across his chest. “But this probably isn’t the place for whatever conversation you’re looking to have.”

Evelyn’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of the last few days catching up to her. “I’ve been trying to talk to him,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I went to his cabin, but... he wouldn’t see me.”

Pete winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s been... well, let’s just say he’s not exactly himself lately.”

“He’s hurt,” Rick added bluntly, his gaze steady on her. “You can see it in the way he’s working—pushing himself harder than he should. Whatever happened between you two, it’s eating him alive.”

Evelyn swallowed hard, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t even—” She stopped, her breath hitching as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I never wanted to hurt him.”

Rick’s expression softened slightly, and he nodded. “I believe you. But he’s got his walls up right now. It’s going to take more than just words to get through to him.”

Pete stepped closer, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We’ll talk to him. Try to get him to see reason. But you’ve got to give him a little time, alright? Let us handle it.”

Evelyn nodded reluctantly, the knot in her stomach tightening. “I don’t want him to think I don’t care,” she said softly.

“He knows,” Pete assured her, his voice surprisingly gentle. “He’s just too damn stubborn to admit it right now.”

The drive back to the cottage felt longer than usual, the winter landscape passing by in a blur. Evelyn’s mind raced, replaying her conversation with Pete and Rick. Their words had given her a small measure of hope, but the weight of uncertainty hung heavy in her chest.

By the time she reached home, the familiar sight of the cozy cottage brought a semblance of comfort. She slipped inside, the warmth of the woodstove embracing her as she shed her coat and boots. Her gaze drifted to the basket of unfinished crochet pieces sitting by the couch.

With a deep breath, Evelyn settled herself down, picking up the half-finished sweater she had started weeks ago. Her hands moved methodically, the repetitive motion of the hook and yarn soothing her frayed nerves.

Hours turned into days, and the rhythm of her life resumed, though it felt emptier than before. She spent her mornings tending to small chores around the cottage, her afternoons lost in her crafts, and her evenings staring at the quiet phone, willing it to ring.

She wanted to give Logan space, to let him come to her when he was ready, but the silence was agonizing. The weight of waiting gnawed at her, and though she tried to keep herself busy, the ache of missing him lingered.

“He knows,” Pete assured her, his voice surprisingly gentle. “He’s just too damn stubborn to admit it right now.”

The drive back to the cottage felt longer than usual, the winter landscape passing by in a blur. Evelyn’s mind raced, replaying her conversation with Pete and Rick. Their words had given her a small measure of hope, but the weight of uncertainty hung heavy in her chest.

By the time she reached home, the familiar sight of the cozy cottage brought a semblance of comfort. She slipped inside, the warmth of the woodstove embracing her as she shed her coat and boots. Her gaze drifted to the basket of unfinished crochet pieces sitting by the couch.

With a deep breath, Evelyn settled herself down, picking up the half-finished sweater she had started weeks ago. Her hands moved methodically, the repetitive motion of the hook and yarn soothing her frayed nerves.

Hours turned into days, and the rhythm of her life resumed, though it felt emptier than before. She spent her mornings tending to small chores around the cottage, her afternoons lost in her crafts, and her evenings staring at the quiet phone, willing it to ring.

She wanted to give Logan space, to let him come to her when he was ready, but the silence was agonizing. The weight of waiting gnawed at her, and though she tried to keep herself busy, the ache of missing him lingered.

It wasn’t until a rainy evening, as Evelyn was driving home from a fair out of town, that their paths crossed again. Logan’s truck was idling at an intersection, his expression unreadable as their eyes met through the windshield. Without thinking, she pulled over, her tires skidding slightly in the mud. She threw her truck into park and jumped out, the cold rain immediately soaking through her coat as she ran toward him.

“Logan,” she called, her voice barely audible over the downpour. 

Logan slammed on the brakes, his truck skidding slightly before halting. He stepped out, his gaze finally meeting hers, his eyes shadowed with a mix of anger and hurt. Rain plastered his hair to his forehead, drops clinging to his lashes as he looked at her.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growled, his voice low and sharp.

“I’m trying to fix this,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can’t stand how things are between us right now.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his hands clenching at his sides. “Maybe things are better this way.”

“No,” she said firmly. “They’re not. I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. I’m not letting you leave again. Not without hearing me out.”

“I’ve heard enough.”, he spits out.

Evelyn steps closer, her voice rising over the rain.“No, you haven’t! You think you know what happened, but you don’t! That kiss—it wasn’t me. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it.”

Logan’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing.“Didn’t look like you were pulling away, either.”

“I froze! I didn’t know how to react. But the second I saw you, it was over. I didn’t care about him—I care about you.”, she said looking at him.

He let out a harsh breath, looking away. “Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change what I saw.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she admitted, tears mixing with the rain. “But it doesn’t mean I didn’t care about how it would hurt you. I love you, Logan. Do you hear me? I love you. And I’m not letting you push me away because of one stupid mistake.”

Logan’s breath catches, his usual walls crumbling under the weight of her words. For a moment, he just stares at her, the rain streaming down his face, a flicker of something raw crossing his face. “Don’t say that,” he muttered. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it,” she said, her voice breaking as tears mixed with the rain streaming down her face. “I love you, and I’m sorry for everything. For not stopping him, for not calling you first. I never wanted to hurt you, Logan. Please believe me.”

For a long moment, they stood there in the rain, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. Finally, Logan closed the distance, his hands cupping her face as he kissed her—desperate, hungry, and filled with all the emotions he’d kept bottled up.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads resting together, Logan exhaled softly. “I love you tooI’ve been alone a long time,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I know how to do this... but I can’t lose you.”

Evelyn smiled through her tears, her hands still cradling his face. “You’re not going to lose me, Logan. We’ll figure it out together.”

The rain continued to pour around them, but in that moment, it felt like the storm had finally passed.

Logan’s eyes searched hers, and without another word, he leaned in again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was deeper, hotter, and filled with all the longing he had tried to suppress. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Evelyn responded with equal fervor, her fingers threading through his rain-soaked hair, her lips parting to meet his urgency. The rain continued to pour around them, but neither seemed to care. Each kiss was hungrier than the last, the heat between them undeniable despite the cold storm.

Logan’s hands slid up her back, strong and steady, anchoring her as their kiss deepened. When she pressed against him, he let out a low, guttural sound, his restraint slipping. His lips left hers, trailing along her jaw and down her neck, his breath hot against her skin as her head tilted back, exposing more of her to him.

“Maybe we should—” Logan murmured against her neck, his voice rough and uneven.

“Get out of the rain?” she finished breathlessly, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the tension crackling between them. “Yeah. Before we end up with pneumonia.”

They broke apart reluctantly, the air charged as they hurried to his truck. Once inside, the doors slammed shut, the rain pounding against the roof providing a steady rhythm to the silence that followed.

But the moment was far from over. As soon as the doors were locked, Logan reached for her again, pulling her onto his lap. Their lips collided once more, this time with an unrestrained passion that made her shiver. Her hands roamed over his chest, the damp flannel clinging to his broad frame as he held her tightly, his fingers gripping her hips as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

Their movements grew more heated, her hips grinding down against him instinctively as their breathing quickened. Logan groaned, his head falling back against the seat as she moved again, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through both of them.

“Evelyn,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “If we don’t stop now…”

She paused, her forehead pressing to his as they both struggled to catch their breath. The weight of his words hung between them, but neither made a move to pull away.

“Then let’s go,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the flush rising to her cheeks. 

Logan’s hands tightened on her waist, his amber eyes dark with emotion and something deeper. “You sure?”

She nodded, brushing her lips against his once more, softer this time but no less certain. “I’ve never been more sure.”

Without another word, Logan gently lifted her off his lap, his touch lingering as they adjusted themselves. He started the truck, his hand finding hers as they drove through the rain, the tension between them simmering and unresolved—but not for much longer.

The rain hadn’t let up by the time Logan pulled the truck into the clearing by his cabin. The headlights cut through the downpour, illuminating the weathered wood of the small structure nestled among the trees.

Logan killed the engine, turning to glance at Evelyn. Her cheeks were flushed, her damp hair sticking to her neck and temples, but she was staring at him with an intensity that sent a pang through his chest.

“Come on,” he muttered, stepping out of the truck. The cold rain hit him immediately, but he barely noticed as he rounded the vehicle to her side.

Evelyn climbed out, wrapping her arms around herself as the chill seeped through her already soaked clothes. Logan’s hand pressed gently against her back, guiding her toward the cabin. The touch was firm but protective, his warmth cutting through the cold.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of pine and faint smoke. Logan flicked on a single lamp, its amber glow softening the shadows in the small space.

“Go shower,” he said gruffly, already shrugging off his wet flannel and hanging it on a hook near the door. His voice softened as he added, “Don’t want you catching a cold.”

Evelyn hesitated, watching as he bent to stoke the fireplace. The orange flames roared to life under his practiced touch, casting flickering light over his broad shoulders and damp hair.

“What about you?” she asked quietly.

“I’ll dry off,” he replied without looking at her. “Go on. Bathroom’s down the hall.”

She lingered for a moment longer, the warmth of his care sinking into her even if his tone was brusque. Then she nodded and disappeared down the hall.

By the time she returned, the cabin was bathed in a cozy glow. Logan had shed his wet clothes, now dressed in a clean pair of jeans and white t-shirt. He was seated on the couch, his head resting against the back, eyes half-closed as he warmed himself by the fire.

Evelyn paused in the doorway, her heart stuttering at the sight of him. He looked so unguarded, so human, a stark contrast to the stormy, gruff exterior he so often wore.

She was wearing one of his shirts—soft and slightly oversized, the sleeves pushed up over her elbows. Her hair was still damp, and her cheeks held a faint blush.

Logan’s eyes opened as she stepped into the room, and they darkened when they landed on her. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet between them carrying all the weight of what had happened that night.

She crossed the room and climbed onto his lap, straddling him without hesitation. Logan stiffened slightly, his hands instinctively resting on her thighs, but he didn’t pull away.

“Evelyn…” he began, his voice low, almost a warning.

“I just want to be close to you,” she whispered, her hands finding his shoulders. “Is that okay?”

Logan’s eyes softened, the tension in his body easing as he exhaled. “Yeah,” he murmured, his hands sliding up to rest on her waist. 

She leaned forward, her forehead pressing gently to his. They sat like that for a moment, the crackling fire filling the silence. Logan’s hands moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer, and she sighed softly, her fingers trailing along the curve of his jaw.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said, his voice rough but sincere.

“I know,” she replied, brushing her lips lightly against his. “But I want this. I want you.”

Logan’s breath hitched as her hands slid beneath his shirt, her fingers grazing his skin with the kind of deliberate, maddening slowness that made his muscles tighten. He caught her wrists, holding them still against his chest as his amber eyes locked onto hers, dark with a mixture of frustration and desire.

“Evelyn,” he rasped, his voice low, like gravel, as though her name alone was enough to unravel him. “Don’t push me unless you mean it.”

Her lips curved—not into a smile, but something softer, something steeped in the kind of certainty he wasn’t sure how to face. “I mean it,” she whispered, her words quiet but carrying the weight of all the times she hadn’t said them before.

Logan’s grip on her wrists loosened, his hands sliding up her arms and pulling her closer as if he couldn’t help himself. He lowered his head, his forehead pressing to hers, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the faint storm still raging outside.

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” he murmured, his voice raw, thick with the effort it took to hold himself back.

Her response was immediate, her fingers curling into his shoulders as she tugged him closer. “I’ve waited long enough,” she said, her voice steady despite the way her heart was racing. “Haven’t you?”

The question landed like a punch to his chest. Of course he had. Every glance, every touch, every moment she’d been close enough to feel but not touch—it had all been building to this, wearing him down piece by piece. And now, here she was, not just asking but demanding, her presence overwhelming in a way that left him powerless to resist.

“Damn it, Evelyn,” he growled, his voice barely a whisper as his hands slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him. His lips captured hers with a ferocity that surprised even him, the kiss deep and unrelenting, years of restraint and denial crumbling in an instant.

She responded in kind, her hands threading into his hair as if she couldn’t get him close enough. Her hips shifted instinctively against his, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest that sent a shiver racing through her.

When he pulled back, it was only far enough to press his forehead to hers, his breath ragged as his hands tightened on her waist. “If we keep going…” His voice was strained, his words a warning that came too late.

Her gaze locked onto his, unwavering. “Then we keep going,” she said simply, her voice soft but resolute. Her hands drifted down to the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward in one fluid motion.

Logan let her strip it away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he studied her. His hands hovered at her sides, hesitant, even now. “You sure?” he asked, the question a bare whisper, almost lost in the space between them.

Her answer was to close the gap, her lips brushing his with a gentleness that sent his control spiraling. “I’ve never been more sure,” she murmured, her voice steady even as her fingers traced the faint scars across his chest.

Logan groaned softly, his hands finally moving, sliding up her sides with a reverence that made her heart ache. When he kissed her again, it wasn’t hurried—it was slow, deliberate, as if he was trying to commit every second to memory.

Without a word, he shifted, lifting her effortlessly and carrying her the short distance to the bedroom. He set her down carefully, his hands lingering at her hips as he stood over her, his chest rising and falling with the effort of restraint.

Her hands reached for him again, pulling him down until he was hovering above her, the weight of him grounding her as much as it electrified her. His lips found hers, his kiss deepening as his hands explored her body with a mix of hunger and care.

When her hips rolled against him again, drawing another guttural sound from his throat, Logan pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “If we’re doing this,” he said, his voice a growl softened by something deeper, “I’m not letting you go.”

Her lips curved, her fingers threading into his hair and tugging just enough to make him groan. “Good,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion and desire. “Because I don’t want you to.”

Logan’s eyes locked onto hers, the raw heat in his gaze making her pulse race. He crushed his lips to hers, the kiss no longer gentle but searing, desperate, as though he couldn’t get enough of her.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he pressed her back into the bed. The weight of him was intoxicating, his strength overwhelming yet controlled, as if he were holding himself back by sheer will alone. She wasn’t having it. Her fingers slid down his chest, nails skimming the taut muscles before finding the button of his jeans. With a flick of her wrist, she popped it open, dragging the zipper down with deliberate slowness, savoring the sharp inhale he couldn’t suppress.

Logan growled against her mouth, his breath hot and uneven as he broke the kiss to bury his face in her neck. His teeth scraped against the sensitive skin, a teasing bite that made her gasp and arch into him.

Logan’s hands, large and rough, gripped the hem of her shirt and yanked it upward, pulling it over her head in one fluid motion. The garment fluttered to the floor, forgotten, as his eyes roamed over her, dark with hunger.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice a low, gravelly murmur, tempered with a tenderness that made her chest tighten.

Her cheeks burned, her nerves tangling with her desire. “I… I want to,” she whispered, her fingers gripping the edge of his waistband, but her voice trembled despite her conviction. “I just—”

Logan silenced her with a kiss, this one slower, deliberate, as if he were savoring her. When he pulled away, his thumb brushed over her cheek, his expression a mixture of hunger and restraint. “You don’t have to rush anything,” he said softly, his forehead pressing against hers. 

Her heart thudded at his words, and she nodded, her fingers trailing up to his chest, where his heartbeat was steady and strong beneath her touch. 

Logan’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, his hands moving to her waist, steady and sure. 

Her hands trembled as she reached for him, sliding over his chest and down to the waistband of his jeans. “I want to see you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan grinned, the expression almost feral, but there was a softness in his gaze as he stood to strip off his jeans and boxers in one smooth motion. When he returned to her, he moved slower, his body warm and solid as he pressed against her.

“Touch me,” he encouraged, his hand guiding hers to explore the ridges of his chest and the lines of his muscles. The heat in his voice was laced with reassurance, and the way he watched her, patient and unhurried, made her boldness grow.

Her fingers mapped his skin, her touch tentative at first, but when he groaned, low and deep, she felt a thrill she couldn’t ignore. “Like that,” he murmured, his hand sliding down her thigh to pull her closer, his touch igniting sparks along her skin.

She tentatively grabbed hold of his thick and veiny penis, wrapping her fingers around him. Logan inhaled sharply at her touch, his jaw tightening momentarily before his expression softened. He placed his hand gently over hers, guiding her movements with slow precision.

"Just like that," he murmured, his voice low and husky. 

Evelyn’s blush deepened, but she didn’t pull away, her curiosity outweighing her hesitation. She watched his face, captivated by the way his brows furrowed slightly, his lips parting as she followed his lead. Her movements were clumsy at first, uncertain, but Logan’s patience never wavered.

"Good," he whispered, his voice laced with encouragement. "You're perfect."

The praise sent a shiver through her, and she felt a growing confidence in her actions. Logan leaned down, kissing her deeply, his hand sliding from hers to cup her cheek once more, anchoring her in the moment.

“Logan,” she breathed, her voice shaky but filled with trust.

"May I?" he asked, his fingers toying with the delicate fabric of her panties.

Evelyn nodded, her breath catching as he began to slide the garment down her legs. His eyes never left hers, even as he rid her of the last barrier between them. Once she was bare beneath him, Logan took a moment to simply look at her, his gaze reverent.

Logan let his hands smooth over her thighs slowly opening them up, her arousal glistening in the low light of the room.

“Don’t be scared”, he whispered as he lowered himself coming face to face with her sex. “You smell so good.”, he said, nuzzling the skin of her inner thigh.

Logan peppered kisses over her mound and inner thigh’s, whie his hand snaked up to grab hold of her right breast and gave it a good squeeze.

Logan gave a kiss to her clit eliciting a moan to erupt from deep within. He took that as a sign to keep going, the hand that was on her breast trailed down her belly and stopped when it came in contact with her pussy. His index and pointer finger lowered down to her glistening hole collecting her arousal and spreading it around. Evelyn gasped and his tongue ran a single long line across her slit to her bud,making her shiver at the foreigner feeling.

“Logan…” she moaned.

“Tell me what you want.” he answered, his breath fanning over her hole.

“More of that, please.” 

He took her plea as an incentive to keep going. His tongue replaced his thumb, slowly circling her clit  and occasionally dipping it to her hole.

Evelyn's legs closed instinctively around his head as her moans became incrinsingly louder.

“Feel good?” he asked rhetorically.

She nodded looking down at him and biting her lip.

His index finger started to circle her hole as his tongue remained focused on her clit, carefully dipping it in, until his hand came in full contact with her pussy.

Evelyn moaned at the intrusion but welcomed it. Logan started to slowly pump it in and out, creating a steady rhythm.

Evelyn started to moan softly, and at that Logan decided to add another finger. 

“Oh God…”she moaned as his fingers pumped easily in and out of her. 

Her hand clasped around his arm as he began opening her hole “Logan…”

He positioned himself above her, continuing to pump his fingers. He licked her lips and gently bit her bottom lip pulling it slowly.

Evelyn, taken over by the overwhelming feeling, grabbed hold of his arm.”Logan…”, she moaned.

Logan could feel her walls tightening around his fingers and incresead the spead,making sure to stimulate her clit with his thumb.

A loud moan erupted from Evelyn as she came hard.

Content with this work, Logan retrieved his fingers from her hole and, staring at her eyes, sucked his fingers clean.

“So good,” he said as he laid between her legs.

Evelyn blushed at his words and pulled him in for a kiss. Logan laid his hips over hers, allowing for his manhood to come in direct contact with her pussy. As the kiss grew hungrier, their hips started to move, creating friction, allowing for moans to erupt on both ends.

Logan, without breaking the kiss, pulled his hips back, allowing for him to line himself with Evelyn's entry. He began to slowly push in, feeling the resistance slowly ease.

Evelyn gasped in his mouth, as she felt him bottom out.

Logan rested his forehead on hers and intertwined their fingers above her head.

“How are you feeling?”he asked, looking for any sign of discomfort.

“Full,” she said breathlessly.

He shifted his hips slightly, giving her time to adjust, his hand caressing the curve of her waist to steady her. Evelyn gasped again, her legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as her body adjusted to the stretch and fullness.  

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Logan said softly, his voice carrying both reassurance and patience.  

“I just… I need a moment.”she replied breathlessly, her cheeks flushed.  

Logan nodded, leaning down to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering there. He stayed still, allowing her to acclimate to the new sensation. His fingers remained intertwined with hers, their grip grounding her in the moment.  

When Evelyn shifted her hips experimentally, a soft sigh escaping her lips, Logan took it as a sign to move. Slowly, he began to withdraw before easing back in, his movements controlled and deliberate. He watched her face closely, his sharp eyes scanning for any trace of discomfort, but all he found was awe and the growing haze of pleasure.  

Evelyn’s breaths came in short gasps, her lips parting as she met his thrusts tentatively at first, then with increasing confidence. The connection between them deepened with every movement, the air heavy with shared vulnerability and trust.  

“You’re doing so good,” Logan praised, his voice rough yet tender as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his lips brushing her skin.  

Her hands tightened around his, her head tilting back into the pillows as soft moans spilled from her lips. “Logan… oh, Logan…” she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of astonishment and need.  

He groaned at the sound of his name on her lips, his pace quickening slightly as he felt her relax around him. Their bodies moved together, finding a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. The heat between them built steadily, the tension mounting as every thrust brought them closer to the edge.  

“You're so tight and wet- Fuck” he rasped, his voice thick as he pressed his forehead to hers once more.  

Logan's hand left hers to brush a strand of damp hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her flushed cheek. “I got you baby,” he whispered, his tone reverent.  

One of his hands made its way down, and Logan began circling her bundle of nerves.

“Yes! Oh, my God, yes!” Evelyn cried as her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders for stability, as she felt herself overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

He smiled looking at her. “Look… Look at how good we fit together - shit” he moaned.

Evelyn looked down, and was amazed at the sight, his thick and veiny member covered in her slick going in and out of her, the motion creacting a creamy white ring at the base of his manhood. 

“Logan,” she said moaned.

Logan speed up, the sound of slapping skin feeling the room.

“It's okay baby, let it happen.” He leaned down and kissed her with a bruising force.

Evelyn moans filled the room.

She looked deep in his eyes and took hold of his hair. 

Oh

Oh

She tugged on his hair as she came hard around him, the bed beneath her shaking.

Logan growled as his tip bumped into her cervix, the extra lubrication helped him dive even deeper. 

“Sh-it!” He cursed as he felt her walls contracting around him urging his release.

Logan moaned deeply as his penis throbbed, spilling his seed deep inside of Evelyn’s velvety walls.

The new sensation made her eyes roll to the back of her head. It was something so deeply intimate and messy.

Logan collapsed on top of her. They were still both breathless as he lifted his head and looked at her.

“You okay?” He asked breathlessly as placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Evelyn smiled against his mouth, her arms still wrapped loosely around his shoulders. “More than okay,” she murmured, her voice carrying a mix of awe and teasing.

He smiled gently, lifting himself off her, to pull out his member from her.  He growled at the sight of their conjoined release coming out of her achy hole.

Logan laid beside her, his chest rising and falling in time with her soft breaths. Evelyn rested her head against him, her hand splayed over his heart as though it belonged there. The warmth of her body pressed into his, and he tightened his arm around her, pulling her impossibly closer.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her breathing evening out as sleep began to claim her. Logan let his fingers trail lightly along her back, his touch lingering, savoring the moment.

For a long while, he simply stayed there, listening to her breathe, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. 

Eventually, his own eyes began to grow heavy, his mind and body at ease in a way he’d never thought possible. With Evelyn tucked safely against him, he let himself give in, falling into the pull of sleep.

Together, they drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber, tangled in each other’s arms, exactly where they were meant to be.

Chapter 8

______________________________________________________________--tagging some amazing people that showed interest on my previous post (if you don't want to be tagged please let me know):

@coocoocachewgotscrewed @latinapiscess @littlebunnybigheartfics @themareverine @pandapetals @logansbaby @the-quick-red-fox @throwmethroughawindow @ifyouseethisnoyoudont22 @galacticglitterglue @whos-nin1

@thisismajortom21 @may-vol-6 @Oh-basic @sarahbarbosa22 @luvpalepinkjazz @irish-pooka @yologans @equilight @lxrxvsp @h4nluv @uncannywolverine @thesecretlifeofmo @mystifiesjdmtcw @socisse @thickynicky547 @peculiarpiscess @tezooks @greenturtlegirl @greenbearplaidbow @eummm @benispunk @th8mz @jounal3sports @alsoprettyinpink @softepiloguemylove @manicandobsessive @b-y-3-n @blahkateisdone @karencaribou @sidkneeeee @theworstwolvie @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @lunellas-library @pedroscurls @britttzy267 @aliensfeltmyjoy @steviebbboi

© th3mrskory 2025 — all rights reserved.

[marshemillow]

Just learned about fucking baeddelism.

Was anyone going to tell me that tumblr was the creation site for a literal actual rape cult on the premise of making anyone who is not a trans woman look like The Enemy, or was I just supposed to find that out myself???

Guys. GUYS. Please, holy shit, can we just drop fucking radical feminism already??? There's nothing in it worth keeping!!! Like we're far past the cult score of mormonism at this point, we're WELL into heaven's gate levels of cult, and you still don't realize how wrong this ideology is?????

STOP TRYING TO MAKE "FUCK ALL MEN" WOKE!!! IT'S NOT WOKE!!! IT WILL NEVER BE WOKE!!! IT'S RADFEM BULLSHIT AND IT BELONGS IN THE TRASH!!!

Now, if you actually don't know much about this topic, you might be wondering WHY radfem ideology is so bad, even unrelated to the mistreatment of trans people? Well, remember that men and women are actually not so different. I love the story of the men who wrote the movie Alien who wanted to have a female protagonist, but none of them knew how to write a good, strong female character. So you know what they did? They wrote Ripley as a MALE character, and then just cast a woman to play her. You know why that worked?? BECAUSE MEN AND WOMEN ARE THE SAME!!! We are all just human beings who are born fumbling and making mistakes!!!

It was actually genius, because Alien was created by a man who believes that rape and forced birth are underutilized concepts in horror movies, and having it happen to male characters forced the audience to see the horror of it unrelated to the rampant misogyny of the time that technically persists to this day. It's no surprise to me that the male writers of the movie recognized their weakness in being unable to write a female character and basically life-hacked themselves into it by writing a good male character instead. Nintendo was even inspired by this angle, which is why Samus in Metroid is also a woman!

THAT'S why radical feminism is bad at its core. It's totally valid to have actual androphobia as a result of normalized violence by men against women, I'm sure it happens all the time, but the solution to that problem is NOT to lean into it until you start thinking of men as subhuman monsters incapable of kindness or love. Not only does that hurt men directly, it also hurts women by denying their abuse from other women!!! AND it denies abuse where men are the victims, even by other men and ESPECIALLY by women!!! Not to mention that it completely erases the identities of nonbinary and genderqueer people who exist outside the rigid gender binary.

And don't even get me STARTED on how radfems treat intersex people!!! Holy shit, that could be a whole post all on its own. Intersex people get so little recognition and are violently erased by all aspects of society, even the groups that should be including them in their activism!!! Radfeminism wouldn't be complete without intersexism, eh? They go together like peanut butter and jelly!!!

And one more sidenote is that radfems' first target was butch lesbians. That's right!!! Not even cis lesbians are safe from terf bullshit!!! So much of their ideology is just related to masculinity being evil compared to femininity, which is why even cis lesbians who hate men can still be targets for harassment. (Sound familiar?)

I honestly find it really ironic that so many trans women today still seem to hold baeddel or TIRF beliefs, because the people who suffered the most under the original baeddel movement were trans women. They were the ones who were subjected to heavy cult indoctrination, where they were expected to agree with the cult leaders with unquestioning obedience, even after the leaders raped them. This isn't to downplay the suffering trans men went through because of them of course, but I find it sickening that modern baeddels still act like no abuse even happened because trans women are "incapable of abuse," or even trying to erase the transfem identities of the victims. It's absolutely vile.

Anyway, fuck radfem ideology. If you're a man reading this post, I love you, I respect you, I see you, and I know you ALL are capable of doing good. I appreciate every man who feels inadequet, like they don't count as real men, like they need to bend over backwards to prove themselves to everyone, who feel like they can't cry or show emotion, who are subjected to bullying and harassment for being "sissies," whether under the patriarchy or under the shadow of radfeminism. You don't deserve to suffer, and I hope it gets better.

Remember that we should be hating IDEAS, not people. Feminism should be about equal opportunity for EVERYONE. If you think feminism should be about flipping the script so women are above men, you're doing it wrong.

And just in case the piss on the poor crowd finds this post again...I also hate incel ideology and think it's just as dangerous (maybe more so because of actual male privilege) as radfem ideology. They really are just two sides of a bullshit gender essentialist coin.

It doesn't mean anything btw if you say "terfs dni" but still say all of the same things they do. Just so you know.

[greatbananaboat]

i wanna talk about this comment on my post abt how vi was parentified really quick.

first off, this is some actual bullshit. let me break this question down before i go into how vi is an INCREDIBLE sister and better than anyone i know.

this question is the exact kind of bs i was referring to in the post. I’m tired of people holding vi to insanely high standards and refusing to acknowledge that powder/jinx is also far from perfect. y’all give powder/jinx WAY too much slack compared to how harshly you judge vi. that’s so evident in the way this question is worded. imagine watching a scene where powder 1) ignores what vi told her to do, stay away, which vi told her SO SHE COULD STAY SAFE, 2) disregards the fact that vi was trying to keep her safe by going to the DANGEROUS SHIMMER FACTORY, where, in case you forgot, deckard (the one who brutally killed benzo and grayson, remember that?) is, 3) uses an incredibly dangerous explosive that she hasn’t ever tested or really understood in order to try and be helpful when she was specifically told to stay away, and 4) kills her entire family except vi, and then coming away with the conclusion that actually, she just made a “mistake” and vi must be in the wrong for getting angry with her!

the levels of absolute moronic incompetence that have to be overcome here is honestly painful. I’m trying to enjoy my goddamn show, not deal with idiots like you who try to shit on every aspect of it and get everything so blatantly wrong.

so why don’t we actually talk about vi for a second? because clearly you were watching the show with a blindfold on and headphones over your ears. there’s no other explanation for why you’re so off base here.

vi loses both parents at age 12. powder also loses her parents, at a younger age, no less, but she is the little sister. she still has an older figure in her life who can take care of her. vi now has to deal with the loss of her parents and take care of her baby sister at the same time. she has vander, yes, but powder is her sister. she’s still got to look out for her.

at some point during the time skip, mylo and claggor get involved. now vi has three younger siblings to take care of. again, yes vander is there, but he has the last drop and he’s the hound of the underground. he’s got a lot going on. as we clearly see, vi is the one the kids rally around. she cares for them, and from her conversation with vander, we know she’s expected to shoulder the responsibility of looking out for them. if anything happens to them, it’s on her. remember that bit.

vi looks out for powder CONSTANTLY. when mylo is complaining about powder being less capable, it’s vi who stands up for powder and calls mylo on his shit. as an older sister myself, it’s what i would do. no matter how frustrated i may be with my little siblings, i defend them with my life. vi also! brings powder along with them on their heist. this is SO important when it comes to understanding their relationship. she doesn’t HAVE to bring powder along! mylo even says he knew they shouldn’t have brought her. but even after powder ruins their heist, blowing up a building and then losing the bag on top of that, vi defends her. she wants her little sister to be included.

what happens with benzo and grayson is TERRIFYING. they’ve never seen anything like this. this was a murder of someone they are close to AND an enforcer. deckard kills indiscriminately and brutally. remember how i said that thing about how vi is responsible for her siblings? yeah. that’s why she tells powder to stay away. she doesn’t want powder to get hurt. say whatever you want abt this, she KNOWS what powder is capable of, and she’s scared for her little sister. she brings mylo and claggor because they’re older, they have experience.

and then the incident happens. vi watches her whole family die. the kids she was expected to protect? dead. mylo pinned against a wall, pole skewered through his chest, claggor crushed under rubble. vander dead in an alleyway, veins pumping purple with shimmer. for the second time, vi has lost nearly everyone she loves. shes sixteen years old.

she doesn’t even get five minutes to grieve before she sees powder. what the hell is she meant to think? she told powder to stay away, stay safe. next thing she knows, her whole family is dead and POWDER is the reason for it. she lashes out. i’ll be 100% honest? i’d be so much worse. powder got hit ONCE and called a jinx by vi when vi has just experienced one of the worst tragedies of her life. i’d say shes pretty lucky tbh.

but the more important thing is, after vi walks away, the MOMENT shes even marginally calmed down shes turning back for powder. it’s marcus who drugs her, marcus who drags her away, covering her mouth before she can scream powder’s name when she sees silco. she spends seven years in prison, passing each day with only the thought of getting back to powder.

i am sick and fucking tired of you imbeciles trying to claim vi wasn’t a good big sister. she deserves a goddamn break. want a quick rundown of powder vs vi in that moment, since i know your literacy is kind of shit? i’ll give you one, maybe you can understand a bit easier once it’s all laid out.

vi: has cared for powder their whole lives, spent 3/4ths of her entire childhood being parentified and the other quarter in PRISON, hits powder when she realizes powder is the reason her family is dead, walks away but tries to go back.

powder: doesn’t listen to vi when she tells her to stay away, uses unfamiliar magic in order to try and help, kills their whole family.

but yeah, powder just made an eensy weensy little oopsie and vi is such a horrible big sister for pummeling her face in! oh the tragedy of it all. get off my posts with your moronic bullshit. did we even watch the same show?

[lex-the-flex]

My Soul in Her

Luke Skywalker x reader

Summary: Longing to erase the sensitivity of your personal connection with the Force, an emotional decision brings you closer to Luke Skywalker as he knows how to help.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, very little plot, talk of a broken Force-bond, slight sadness, established relationship, a slight fight, Luke being a loving man and taking care of the reader, SMUT – 18 + loss of virginity, oral (f! receiving), and skin and body appreciation (both sides).

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day to me…

Encasing your mind to the gentleness of the salty sea air, the faint scent of celestial lilies and rosemary calm your senses whilst the island across the lake taunts you endlessly. Silently skipping stones into the clear water, all you can do is respectfully fight the urge to swim over to the shore. Just for some peace and quiet. But instead, you choose not to and you close your eyes and still your breath. 

Extending your palm to the ground, the waves become muffled as the sensation of the Force flowing through the very fingerprints and veins of your hand slowly spreads through your arm and ends at your elbow. Concentrating on a single smooth stone that litters the pebbled beach, the rock barely hovers above the toe of your boot. Refusing to take flight, you try harder, and suddenly a stinging breath captures the airways of your lungs, causing you to lose all your focus. 

Clasping the center of your chest, tears well in your e/c eyes that were once full of life, and the lake’s waves radiate against your eardrums with a sudden realization. The Force had departed from your body. Never to return. 

Wiping away your tears, the same pebble that you struggled to lift rises and perfectly skips across the water. 

“I know what you’re trying to do. …And it’s not helping.” You announce to your lone audience member. 

“I’m sorry. I thought it would make you feel better.” Luke answers, descending the garden steps. 

“It seems nothing can make me feel better and you know it.” You reply. 

“Don’t say that. It’s too early to start punishing yourself.” Luke says. 

Placing his hand on your shoulder, his touch alone makes you want to melt into him. But you can’t, not when your mind isn’t clear. So you don’t say anything.

“I hate to see you like this, Y/N. To watch you drown in your own sorrow, choosing to stay inside, having your meals in your room. It’s heartbreaking.” Luke continues, turning to face you. 

Your bottom lip slightly quivers at Luke’s observations, silently knowing that he is right. 

“Tell me.” He whispers before you. 

Tracing the outline of your face, he brings two fingers below your chin, and you face him fully. 

“After… we were separated, something happened. The bomb, it— Not only did it tear us apart, but it broke my Force-bond to you. Our bond that you first felt on Dagobah, …it’s gone. It tore our relationship in half. And without it, I can no longer sense you, feel you, and I’m starting to become a stranger to the Rebellion. It’s obvious. Even Han of all people can tell. It’s why I…” You explain, but you can’t finish. 

“It’s why I sensed your “death.” But it is the Force breaking around you. I knew there was something else to it. Is that why you refuse to use your lightsaber?” Luke questions, tilting down to your level. 

All you can do is nod. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N. It’s like you’ve always said: ‘Don’t lose faith.’ If we start your training tomorrow morning, then we can go back to –“ He starts, stepping away from you. 

“What? ‘Start training?’ Do you know how difficult this is for me? How closed off I feel? What training will solve that? I’ve tried everything with Jacob when he melted down that Carbonite! We spent five long years accomplishing nothing! Nothing worked, Luke!” You shout at the blonde, pushing him away with all your might. 

“Commander Upshur told me everything. You had successes, too.” Luke rebuttals, shocked by your tone. 

“I understand that we are the first of the new Jedi, Luke. I really do. But you need to let me process this. I need time to heal for myself. And right now, I want to do this alone.” You order, leaving your closet acquaintance alone on the beach. 

***** 

Sleep doesn’t come easy for you. The gentle sound of crickets and the cool breeze makes you toss and turn even more. Sitting up, an empty sigh releases itself from your lips. Running your fingers through your hair, you’re suddenly at a loss for what to do, it was as if you had no one. 

Then, in the next few calm seconds, a light fluttering fills the depths of your chest. Like someone was calling to you. 

‘Come to me.’

Luke’s words echo through you, causing you to shake. Swallowing your fear, you follow his light demand, ultimately curious to see where this will take you. Wandering through the dimly lit Palace hallways, Luke’s declaration grows louder and stronger as you reach a door that you’ve never seen before. 

Closing your palm around the ornate handle, you push the door open, only to have a gasp bubble in your throat. Luke stands on the other side, expecting you. 

“You’re here.” He says, letting you in. 

“You called.” You reply. 

Nervously crossing the threshold, Luke closes the door behind you, and the sight of the room leaves you speechless. Remnants of an old study appear to have been converted into a bedroom with a view. Yet, knowing Luke, the room has slightly returned to its original form. 

Delicate star shaped pendant lights hang from the ceiling, surrounding the room is a soft golden glow, reflecting the real ones from outside. Dark colored sheets of silk curtains blow in the breeze as light ones cover the bed in a secluded old marble wading pool. Walking over to a wooden desk, scattered pieces of Luke’s equipment litter the surface. Multiple lightsaber pieces, broken fragments of kyber crystals, and wiring tools linger about. 

“Is this place yours?” You cautiously ask. 

“It is. Seeing how Leia and I have returned to our Mother’s domain, it’s only right that she pulled some strings for us. Not that I’m complaining.” Luke explains, with his back to you. 

“Of course she did.” You chuckle. 

Turning around to face Luke, he does the same in perfect unison from the tiny kitchenette in the corner. Suddenly you’re greeted with him. All of him. His impeccable physique nearly knocks you off your own two feet. The way his powerful muscles linger against his broad frame cause you to clear your throat. Sure, you had seen Luke shirtless before, but why did it have to be in the dim and slightly romantic lighting did you have to notice? 

Well, someone like Luke can certainly change in five years. 

Handing you a glass of water, you bring your gaze up to his own, until you notice the white silk scarf hanging from his shoulders. It was the same one you bought for him in Mos Eisley when you both met for the first time. When he revealed his Jedi status to you before returning to aid his friends at Jabba’s Palace. 

Taking one of the ends in your hand, a small smile fills your lips, delighted to know he still carries it. 

“You still have it.” You say, moving to sit on the desk. 

“Of course. I never dreamed of giving this away. Even when you were gone, this scarf was the only way I remained close to you. But you’re here, now.” Luke replies, setting down your glass of water. 

A moment of silence erupts from the two of you. While you both didn’t need to say anything, you try to, but can’t.

“Where do you feel that the Force-bond resides? If you had to pick a place for it?” Luke asks. 

“It’s here. I know that to be true.” You reply, placing your hand in the dead center of your chest.

“You’re sure?” Luke questions.

“Yes, it feels weak every time I reach out.” You explain, folding your hands. 

Luke gives you an understanding nod. Leaning closer, your lips are suddenly inches apart and your breath is caught in your throat.

“What are you doing?” You whisper through half-lidded eyes.

“Rectifying the situation, that’s all.” Luke replies

Fully closing your eyes, you’re suddenly numb by your reconnected lover’s presence.

“What about the Code?” You mumble.

“Well, it’s like you reminded me: we are the first of the new.” Luke answers, tilting his head closer.

Closing the gap between the two of you, Luke gently presses his lips to yours, surrounding you with his arms. Unconsciously parting your knees, Luke deepens the kiss before standing in between your legs. Running your fingers through his dirty blonde hair, a groan escapes his chest the second he effortlessly lifts you off the desk.

Placing you on the edge of his bed, Luke breaks the kiss, much to your dismay.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asks, lightly cupping your face. 

“Yes. I want this with you. Only you.” You reply, holding Luke’s hands. 

Tilting his head toward you, he moves down to kiss your neck and a gasp escalates from your lips. Unbuttoning your nightshirt, Luke discards it from your frame, and tosses it behind him, along with the rest of your clothes shortly afterward. 

Instinctively shielding yourself from him, Luke helps ease the tension and places the silk scarf on the floor. Reaching behind you, he adjusts the place where he was once sleeping, making it more comfortable. 

“Don’t be shy, you can rest now, sweetheart.” Luke announces. 

Unsheathing your protective hands from your bare skin, Luke tosses his ebony cloak to the side from beneath the bedding and gives you all of his attention. Kissing you once more, you calmly follow his lead and lay down in the warm sanctuary of pillows and softness. Standing before you, the sight of his physique puts you in an almost trance-like state. Seeing him without his gear was once a luxury you never thought you could afford. Now, you realize that these visions lead you here, they were calling to you from the future.

Slowly crawling his way up your body, Luke kisses your skin with adoration. Reaching your thighs, you gasp as his soft lips trace over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Hovering over your core, Luke teases you with an almost devilishly hungry smirk whilst the two of you make eye contact.

Running his pink lips over your throbbing folds, you prop yourself up on your elbows to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.

But he would never.

Parting your folds with his tongue, a shaky moan escapes your mouth. Gripping your hips in his hands, Luke holds you in place as he nudges your sensitive entrance with his lips. His icy blue eyes stare into your very soul as he presses his tongue into your slick opening, earning a cry from you. Swirling around in your bundle of nerves, Luke’s grip grows tighter, keeping you together. Trying your best to keep your eyes on Luke, every flick and beat brings sounds from your being that are more precious than every instrument in the Palace’s War Room.

Falling back to the plush bedding, Luke brings a free hand to gently knead one of your breasts, his digits carefully massage the tender goosebump ridden skin. Gripping Luke’s wrist, you smoothly cum on his tongue, allowing your taste to fill his mouth. 

Wiping his lips, Luke slowly ascends up your body and perfectly nestles into your hips. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he strokes himself, pumping the tip of his cock. Encasing his cloak around the two of you, Luke aligns himself with your virgin hole, teasing your slick folds with his tip.

Moaning at the foreign feeling, you grip Luke’s veiny forearms, squeezing his hot skin. That was all he needed. Sliding himself past your entrance, the two of you moan in harmony at this feeling. Burying his face in your neck, Luke leisurely moves his hips forward, gently thrusting his way into you. Longing to be deep inside you, he selfishly couldn’t help but imagine what this would be like. From the moment you appeared back into each other’s lives, he knew that this is how he could help you.

Gripping his muscular back, you expect any form of pain, but there wasn’t any. Euphoria washes itself over your body as Luke descends your collarbones and kisses the center of your chest. Thrusting his manhood deeper inside you, you can feel the spark in between your breasts grow bigger and stronger.

The Force was coming back to you.

Feeling your walls squeezing around Luke’s cock, a growl rises in broad chest. Slightly quickening his pace, a fluttering sensation fills your core. Pressing your nails against his freckled and scarred skin, Luke rides out your orgasm in pure awe of you. Lifting your hips with his own, you let go and Luke cums after you, filling you with his warmth. Scratching his back, his skin burns as he exits from your core, and you scream his name. Stroking your thigh with his free hand, Luke prompts you to relax, and you release your legs from around his waist.

“I love you.” Luke whispers in the dark.

Refusing to break your grip, Luke cups the sides of your face, kissing you softly. Suddenly, the strong connection of the Force fills your soul with all its might, granting you the wisdom and power you thought was gone. Breaking the kiss, Luke points to an object on his nightstand. Reaching out, you levitate a set of pens off the table before setting them down on the wooden surface.

Glancing back towards Luke, he gives you a nod of approval, acknowledging your feat.

“You alright?” He asks. 

It was as if the world stopped. Tears begin to form in your eyes as your quiet sobs and cries of happiness fill the room. Nudging your nose with his own, your lips find his. Scratching his scalp, the strong connection between your souls grows exponentially just as your cries turn back into soft moans.

Surrounding himself around your frame, Luke lays you on your side, and never lets go until you both fall in love with one another all over again.

“I love you too.” You answer, nuzzling yourself into Luke’s arms. 

luke skywalker taglist ~

@midnightepiphany

@maybeimart

@nonbinary-tatooine

@kaleidoscope1967eyes

@dailydragon08

@sonofthedunes

@wicked0clouds

@tearsleftt

@thereallchristine

@partofmejustwantstosleep

@xxx-aurora-swirls

@remusstefon

@annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

@0paperairplane0

@kethamine

@pantaeudaimonia

@acupnoodle

@flawroses

@xplore-the-unknwn

@tatooineknights

@myevilmouse

@edwxrdkenway

@gabbasblog

@garagesesh

@maybe-if-youd-listen

@rubixcuby

@liliesdiary

@uh-i-think-its-frank

@obislittleone

@reader3

@iywaias-sleep-paralysis-demon

[tani-b-art]

when ava responded with, “of course” after crystal told her “thank you, for what you did in there” and following when crystal said, “i appreciate it…” both of those reactions from ava were out of surprise and humility. she wasn’t expecting her to say any of that but you can see how much ava was so happy to hear it. elicited some real unsuspected mushiness from her and it looked like when a child is proud they gained their patent’s approval for a good thing they did. very meek in the cutest of ways. soft ava — the fact that crystal can still touch that special spot in ava even with them not being on good terms tells a lot, too. the fact that ava told her, “of course”…saying that tells that despite their not so good place, she still wanted to look out for her and it wasn’t a question. it’s almost as if she said you’re still my soror, you’re still my sister, you’re still my friend (i still remember how special you made me feel—on all levels of their friendship and/or relationship) and i wanted to help you and could, so i did. for ava’s immediate reaction to be so empathetic to hearing crystal in distress about not being successful in her bid for their funds—to me, that seems like she’s witnessed crystal in this position before (back in the day). she was panicky about something with school, tests results, getting selected for a club or something and ava was with her while she waited for the results and she was there to relax and calm her and reassure her, letting her know it’ll be okay and to not sweat it because she knows she passed that test or would get the membership. it feels like a lot of ava’s reaction to crystal was from recalling and recognizing old times. and whatever long-standing rivalry and beef between them would go on temporary pause so she can be there for her.

(come to think of it, ava may get a surprise visit from crystal at abbott to ask for her forgiveness. wow, just throwing that out there…just the thought of that possibility is like woah because that lingering conversation will finally be had. she’ll admit, ava will accept her forgiveness and that’ll be the end of them)

crystal is one of the people in ava’s life that greatly shaped her. if we’re never told about her & crystal’s backstory during their college/sorority days, i think we all can very much piece everything together without an actual episode. there’s so much explained in their few but extremely impactful interactions — and we clearly see just how affected ava still is to this day with crystal. it appears as though the one person ava has gotten close to by choice (not familial) or allowed herself to be open to really damaged her in a formative period in her life and that person was crystal. and crystal betrayed her. their connection was good in the beginning and then turned not good at all. maybe it wasn’t crystal’s intention to hurt ava (idk why but in my deciphering of them, I believe crystal’s whole purpose of befriending ava initially was based in something that was contrived but along the way, crystal actually started to like ava, not just on a friend level either, and then it turned ugly when their situation got “exposed” to their sorority and crystal decided to keep her reputation intact and safe face)…im still debating on if any of their falling out was intentional on that account or not. but however it played out, crystal’s actions definitely hurt ava and created this persona in ava. the emotionally impenetrable person she is. but, it’s obvious how that glass of protection she formed for self is slowly being built down because of people like janine and o’shon who aren’t crystal. both of them (especially janine; tbh, I would also add iggy because they have a relationship that seems just as impactful but probably was right after crystal—not sure on the timeframe yet but it seems like he came into her life at an aligning time) are helping her realize that she won’t need that protective glass anymore whenever she shares intimate moments with them…the image that comes to mind with ava and her glass of protection is the enchanted rose inside of the glass dome. she’s the rose that placed herself inside of it out of self-protection. it’s still a glass but it doesn’t have the purpose of running out of time (like the fairytale) so she has time to see everyone for who they really are. all the new people in her life (janine, o’shon) that show her any signs of like and love have been treating her that way in genuine kindness and in sincere care and it’s safe. and because it’s safe and considerate and w/o malice, she can dismount the dome that’s been shielding her and let herself experience those beautiful acts from the people who care for her. there’s honesty in their feelings towards her. so that glass dome, it served its purpose. she can reveal herself from underneath it.

we’ve gotten lots of soft, delicate and vulnerable Ava this season. she feels very safe with the people she’s allowed to see this side of her which shows how much she feels protected to let down her walls and unmasks herself around them. she obviously isn’t able to allow this often because her reactions to folks being kind, patient and gentle with her proves how foreign it is—it’s an act of love she isn’t too familiar with because she’s not gotten it very often. probably only from her grandmother so it coming from non-family seems jarring to her but y’all know she absolutely loves it! so seeing her let it happen and momentarily receive it to let her soft come forth is…soft.

it’s soft and still very powerful too. and it’s beautiful because it’s brave and graceful. i would even say her timidity is beautiful, brave and graceful just as well. so sweet. so kind. all very attractive.

Ava is allowing Ava!

(a lot of this soft Ava awakening is in large part to Janine)

[a-minke-whales-tale]

Misanthropy and Reconciliation

Sometimes I wonder if we need other words to describe various levels of misanthropy. I distrust humans - I fear humans - though I do not hate them or believe it is their inherent nature to be evil and hurt others. Often when this topic comes up people bring up discussion of eco-fascism or a philosophy of misanthropy, and often the idea of human nature as evil and destructive. Perhaps those posts are not meant for me, at least that part does not apply to me.

Though often in the same post or from others will talk about the distrust and fear of humans. It is as well part of misanthropy, or at least one of the definitions of misanthropy to have that distrust and fear of humans. When we talk about that fear and distrust of humans for trauma and what the humans have done to us, often I see people write that it is our own problem, something we have to work on. I have to wonder "why?". I think few people would judge a dog who fears men. They may not know the story of why, but understand something must have happened. Our fear and distrust of humans is not something innate any more than the hurt humans do to us is innate to them. In our case though the hurt still goes on - we are still being actively hurt. We are forced onto medicines that destroy us, we are isolated and ostracised from the wider therian community, and have our own communities interfered with or tried to be destroyed by self appointed saviours doing it in what they believe is for our own good in the most charitable interpretation. My podmate Ike once said, it isn't all humans but it -is- always a human. Only a few humans hurt us in the hospitals and turned us this way directly - but how many humans were needed to facilitate those actions, how many humans support what was done to us as either a gift or necessary? It is very many, even among therians.

Still, I desire very much reconciliation. I do not wish to fear the humans and wish I could be comfortable with them. In a rather cruel twist, my freedom and salvation lays essentially with the same group that has done to me so much harm and made me this way. I will never be able to return to the sea and I will always live in human captivity, for now as what looks like a human, and later in a tank. There is often a lot of human positivity posts floating around to try to counter the misanthropy posts; and perhaps it is just who I follow, I see far more of the former than the latter. Humans are pretty neat creatures at points in the things they do and create. Perhaps someday I can come to fully appreciate them without fear or concern they will hurt or kill me if I do not do precisely what they wish. I admit though it is difficult to believe I could ever exist without some amount of fear and distrust to the humans.

People often say that it is our responsibility to move on from the hurt that causes our fear and distrust. It is true most humans did not design the world they live in and are just as much victims of circumstance as myself. I was born into a world dominated by the humans and my life is dominated by the machinations of the humans. I know the humans are in charge and I do not mind that I am lesser than them. Still if the humans want for me to not fear and distrust them, it is their responsibility to show they are safe and they are trustworthy and they won't hurt us.

At points I can make bits of progress. I may not trust humans, but I can learn to trust -a- human. I can learn to connect and feel some level of safety around them. It takes a very long time though, and that trust is easily shattered. When I go to live in a tank we will have to put a huge amount of trust in our trainers and caregivers. I imagine at first we will be a bit nervous with our trainers and with the humans around us but I hope in the end we can form a tight bond with them and feel safe and secure, that even if we can never feel truly safe around humans we do not have that relationship with, we will feel comfortable still because we know our humans will make sure that others won't hurt us. Perhaps that is for us the best outcome we can have.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/775475288929894400/but-here-are-what-zines-from-my-own-collection

Very very sorry for the long ask but I love both the DIY type zines and the fandom collab artbook type zines so i really enjoyed you talking about it here. But i also kind of feel insane about how anti-“nice fandom artbook zines” op of the post and most people in the notes were??? I know fandom zine drama and all the rest of the issues exist but it seems odd to me to hate the entire practice of making and distributing these things when in my experience at least most of the ones I’ve seen are either all charity fundraisers people contribute to for fun out of the joy of making fandom stuff or else barely manage to cover cost of production.

Commodifying fandom and DIY shit is definitely an issue but i don’t really know if people wanting to come together to make high quality printed stuff to have and it being priced accordingly is really the heart of the issue. In my experience most fandom zines/artbooks are also often traded/given away for free after fundraising and production. Like the point isn’t gatekeeping it’s more comparable to small time independent fandom merch creation where people aren’t really making a profit at all, and while I can sort of understand wanting different terminology for these things vs old style DIY zines, I don’t really understand the hate for the artbook kind. Issues like gatekeeping, money mismanagement, etc are more issues with individual projects rather than the entire scene. These things are still for the most part not for profit independent projects solely meant to circulate in a specific subculture for fun. If I collaborated with a group of artists with similar interests with the goal of making a cool limited run charity zine, it seems odd to me that it would be barred from “wholesome real zine” status by whether or not we went to a local printer to print it on high quality paper and therefore had it cost $20 or not.

And it might be that my experience is a complete outlier but even then people regularly trade the fandom artbook zines and share all the art for free, etc after charity fundraising and the print run is done. I’ve bought and traded all different kinds and print quality levels of zines, and idk it just seems weird to moralize the creation of art objects in this way. All of the types of zines share ancestors so i don’t see why one shouldn’t have the right to call itself a zine when it’s a cousin to the original concept. Production value isn’t a crime, people like things lol. The fancy artbook fandom zines are never going to be mainstream or whatever because they’re still fandom bullshit solely for fandom gratification lol. It’s not stopping anyone from making small DIY projects of even the same subjects and in the same spaces, so I would rather people point out actual unethical behaviors in these hobby spaces rather than just “production value bad because it makes people make the bad choice of not encouraging and buying DIY zines”. Like if people are smart and mindful about it both can exist fine

--

I think there are a variety of reasons people get upset, but a big part of it is feeling like they can't compete and now the expectation is a pro-looking product.

Honestly, I think a lot of the change is just that 1. different printing is available now and 2. the focus has shifted to artists rather than writers. People who used to be top dog are now nobodies, and the shift is upsetting to some.

Fanfic zines in ye olden days were often financially out of reach of plenty of fans, so this isn't really that big of a change.

[acourtofthought]

Every couple is different and has their different origin stories, but I think if every couple across the SJM universe were told from first meeting “hey this guy… this girl… that’s your mate. See ya and have a nice day” they would all have similar reactions to how we see Elain and Lucien.

Rhys and Feyre are different as Rhys knew before even meeting her…

But if Cassian and Nesta were told from their first meeting they’d be pissed.

Aelin and Rowan- ha!

Bryce and Hunt- they’d both punch the person

All would be in complete disbelief and upset/disappointed. So I don’t like the takes that Elaine and Lucien hate each other and both want it broken.

We’ve been in Lucien’s head and know how he feels about Elaine and the curiosity there. We’ve yet to be in Elaine’s head. We know she doesn’t want a mate period (Nesta said the same thing).

For fans to think they’re not end game and we will not explore their bond at least a little? Come on now. It’s pretty much an arranged marriage trope taken to the next level. Let the simmering tension commence!

Without a doubt. And Rhys / Cassian knowing / suspecting that Feyre and Nesta were their mates wasn't ever an issue because in canon, the fae in the ACOTAR world typically cherish mating bonds and look at them as something sacred. It's the same reason we had Lucien showing loyalty to Elain from the very moment their bond snapped even though he hadn't officially met her. But if any other SJM FMC was made immediately aware of their bond, especially those who were human or half human? They would have rioted. I mean we kind of saw Nesta do that exact thing when she was drawn to Cassian from the first moment she met him. But let's throw out a hypothetical. Do most readers think Rhys and Feyre are right for one another? I'm not even saying they have to like Feyre or they have to like Rhys, but are they well matched? I think they are, I can't imagine either one with anyone else. Now say you're one of the people who do like Feysand together, you think they compliment each other well and you can't imagine them without the other. Now let's say Feyre did find out about her bond from the very start. Does that mean we'd suddenly feel Rhys and Feyre were a poor fit? Do you think readers would now say, "Never mind! They don't match because they knew about their bond from the start!" I doubt anyone who likes Feysand would ever say that which proves the beginning really doesn't matter so long as the end product is the same and that's two people who were destined to be the other half of their soul finding their way to each other. It is no different for Elain and Lucien. Yes they have had a rocky start and yes they've got more to deal with having the knowledge of their bond from the start (as well as her being in love with someone else and him believing he already had and lost a mate) but that doesn't make them less perfect for one another. Sarah actively drew parallels for them once she realized they would be mates and that only compounded the unintentional parallels she already had for them in book 1, those unintentional ones being exactly why Elain ended up surprising her and Lucien as being the one for him.

Sarah did not go on this 4 / 5 book journey with Elucien only to let all the buildup and anticipation of "What will she do about her bond?" "What will their first real on page conversation look like now that she's out of her depressed state??" fizzle out. She's invested way too much time creating their storyline (to the point that so many characters have spoken about / thought about their bond - Hybern, Eris, Cassian, Feyre, Nesta, Amren, Madja, Az, Jurian, Rhys) not to explore it in their book.

Elucien is the tea and everyone is waiting to find out what they're going to do.

[wings-of-ink]

Hi!! I have a bit of constructive criticism, if I may 😅 English is not my first language, so pardon me if I sound rude, it's definitely not my intention!

Something that confuses me is how people act when the MC has to lift their shirt, when in comparison characters like Oswin and Duri can be shirtless/completely naked and people not batting an eye at it. It's funny and confusing why people jump at MC taking out their shirt as if it's scandalous 😅. I guess if that was the reaction to all the characters it wouldn't be as weird, but MC seems to be singled out. For example, on that scene where the characters ask to analyze MC's mark and they say "I can just cover what I'm not comfortable showing", that answer doesn't really make sense to MC's who consider "it's just skin", as can be stated if you choose to take a bath on the river after meeting Nathan; I'd imagine my MC just lifting it naturally, or even taking out his shirt completely without any problems, going as far as being confused as to why Oswin is making a big deal of it. This is just one example of something that happens some other times, if you want I can list them, so it's easier for you to check them out! The characters reactions seem pretty on point, tho! Zahn and Duri don't seem to mind anyone naked, Rune is respectful regardless, and Oswin seems to only be affected by MC's nakedness (which can be explained by his apparent feelings for MC? I'm not on his route but it looks like he has a crush on MC, I could be wrong😆). The problem comes mostly to how MC responds, I think? As in, couldn't they be as comfortable about being naked as Duri is? So just a bit of a twist on MC's answers and it would flow naturally! Coding wise, maybe putting a choice of how comfortable your MC is with showing their body at some point in game/the beginning? Like, "never comfortable", "uncomfortable with strangers", "choose as happens if they're comfortable or not", "always comfortable", etc.

Anyways, sorry for the long text and thank you for your time! I absolutely love the game and constantly replay it, thank you for your hard work and good job! :)

Hello dear and thanks for stopping by! And not to worry, I didn't think your message was rude. Below I've explained where my thinking is in the way I've written what you're discussing.

The reason those parts are written that way is not because it is intended to seem "scandalous." Nudity in general isn't really considered as such in the world and it's entirely up to personal preference. The reason those scenes are written in such a way is that I'm writing from the eyes of many MCs with many different possible comfort-levels. I didn't find it necessary to track code for the MC's feelings on being exposed when it is easier to write a general statement that suggest the MC does or does not cover themselves and the like (where I could, I added reaction choices). And sometimes, it's better to error on the MC being a little bit discreet because of that. Could I add code for this? Yes, but overall I didn't see the purpose in it (I have a mountain of variables as is and some things just need to be trimmed).

I also need to consider that situationally, each MC will react different. With the variety of situations in the story, even when MC is comfortable, there could be situations that they would not be. Getting an exam from a stranger is different from your crush walking in on you or you wanting to tease and such.

During the forest-bathing scene, the MC also needed to take consideration for keeping their mark concealed. Oswin was cautious because they just met Zahn and he knows that Nathan has a unique curiosity for magical goods. As we learn in later chapters, this is wisdom since some people covet magical things and are willing to do horrible things to get them.

Oswin also has a particular protectiveness over MC, especially depending on a few choices about MC's feelings for him he may react different in certain scenes.

I hope that covers it in a satisfactory way. At least for now, I don't think I will set any code variable for this at least for the time being. I'm not sure how often MC will end up nude either, lol. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me! I'm glad you're enjoying the game! ^_^