#but i think most of all i just wish to be myself. i wish my parents would call me my name. i wish i werent afraid 2 use it in front of them

[unacknowledgeable]

Uhm, hey!

I love your serial killer reader so so much, and I just want to say that it just scratches that itch in my brain.

Though, I feel like commissioners Gordon could be a yandere of a sort. He’s obsessed with the killer and finding this person, willing to break any law to find evidence, to risk his own morals to get a clue. And if he finds out its reader???

Well, I’ll be kinda like a Hannibal and will situation, but platonic. Like, reader now has their sight on this man, curious on how he’ll play the game, and Gordon is too obsessed not to play.

Anyway, could I be 🔎? Thanks for reading!!

Oh anon, anon anon anon, big kith for you (to transfer the worms, obviously) I told myself i would take a BREAK, but you, you, I'm bouncing off the walls bc of you

Y’know I actually have a spreadsheet with all of the batfams ages? when certain events happen, motivations, etc, now I gotta add gordon too, goodness me.

I honestly haven't watched Hannibal QwQ haha, would you believe me if I said most of the media I consume is actually feel good kids cartoons….? 

BUT I have been wanting to watch it so I watched the first few episodes before replying to this, because I gotta be informed y’know? admittedly i find there's a lot of disconnect between the correlating characters, but this is a wonderful jumping off point!

ANYWAY, I have actually been trying to think of a way to give the MC more of a life outside of angst with the batfam and, well, you know, murdering people. and this? This is so fun. I think the MC would probably know Gordon through Barbara (obviously), but that's not how they met. He was there, the night your mother died, arriving on the scene to find something he had hoped he wouldn't have found again, not after the first time. A small, 8 year old child, orphaned in a single night.

 Admittedly, that's where the similarities ended.  Where Bruce lost his parents in a back alley of Gotham, you lost yours within your own home. Where two gunshots marked the Wayne couple, your mother was bludgeoned . Where Bruce had wept, blood on his shoes as he gripped his parents bodies, pleading and fighting to hold on, you sat outside, waiting for police to arrive, not a drop of blood on you. 

Getting you to answer questions was like pulling teeth, all they could gather was that your mother had sent you to bed and you later woke up to find her body in the kitchen, having already been dead for several hours. They figured it was a robbery gone wrong, which would explain the killer not knowing another person was in the house, having fled the scene as soon as possible. But that didn't explain why on earth you didn't wake up to what was obviously a loud struggle, there was simply no way. 

The blood results very quickly answered that question and sparked hundreds more. Your mother had been microdosing your food with sleeping pills, all found within the apartment under her name. Either she didn't want to deal with putting you to bed or wanted to make sure you stayed there throughout the night. The fact that you were even still conscious was kinda a miracle. Gordon seriously wished that had been the biggest surprise from those damned tests. Because it turned out his earlier comparisons with Bruce Wayne were far more accurate then he ever would have guessed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's not exactly a stretch to assume Gordan kept some kind a of contact with you after everything is settled, he’s done it before, dudes literally one of Bruce's best friends 

He sees you at charity galas a lot, and after catching you trying to sneak alcohol from one of the tables? He appoints himself as your chaperone for any galas you both happen to attend from there on out, which is quite a few of them over the years

You'd have been a lot more annoyed with him if he hadn't allowed you to ramble and talk non-stop throughout the whole event (he was a distraction, like the alcohol, at least this distraction is legal)

This continues on even when your older, when he no longer has any legal need to herd you away from the drink tables, it's just habit now, and you hate breaking habits

While your connection with Bruce can get you many places, it's your connection with the Commissioner that basically guarantees you a position in the coroner's office

yeah, they work in the coroner's office as a mortuary assistant heheheeh  

It's not really suspicious either, Gordon had been well aware of your goal for the job for many years (long before you started making the bodies yourself)

So now, not only do you have near unlimited access to all the case files the bats have on you, you also had access to what the police knew (it's mostly the same stuff, but you had to cover all your bases, god you're just like your father)

There was some sort of irony, performing autopsies on the people you killed, but you don't care to look for it, more focused on destroying any bits of evidence you can

Gordon is no stranger to giving out confidential police info, hell he has a glorified flashlight built specifically to call the bat and just hand him case files, ON TOP OF THE POLICE STATION!!

You often work similar hours, so you let him talk and talk and talk at length about how fucking weird this serial killer in particular is

Unlike with the batfam, reader literally gets a front row seat to Gordon's descent into obsession

You'd seen him with almost every other criminal case that popped up during your time spent around the police department, so you caught on pretty quickly that this was was no normal case to him anymore

He was obsessive, rattling on about the motives and habits of this killer, talking like he knew them personally (oh the ironyyyy) and at first? It weirded you the fuck out.

Not the behavior in general, but that it was essentially focused solely on you, you kept him up at night, kept him guessing, wondering when you’ll strike next, how brutal will it be, more or less than usual?

At first you're like “oh okay, ummmm…. you good buddy? I'm not sure you're all there yourself actually”

You'd just never felt so seen, at least, not by someone still living

Now, Gordon's obsession isn't based on nothing, when I said he found the way SK!reader operated weird asf, I meant it, this man is utterly baffled by it

Normally, when crime scenes are as brutal as yours, its personal, they know the person they've murdered and they hold so much rage in their heart that they can't help but try to cause as much damage to the victim as possible

These crimes also only ever happen once. Not dozens and dozens of times, committed by the same person, it is always so insanely messy that it's easy to pinpoint the who, how and why. Open and shut cases really, just another Tuesday

But when he looks closer? It feels…. Sterile, Methodical, Planned out, scripted, like hitting replay on a particularly interesting scene in a show

This? This has all the showy, over-exaggerated nature of Gotham's greatest rogues, down to the last detail, to the last drop of blood. but it's missing the rogue

It has all of the signs of an attention seeking psychopath, but none of the drive to follow through. To take your rightful credit

Normally such a passionate crime would have someone of equal magnitude behind it. The Joker and his killing Jokes, Ivy and her Eco-terrorism, Bane and his hulking demeanor, Two-face and his double standards-

The point is, there's always a show before the Finale, but with you? He only gets a glimpse at the film before the end credits roll. 

It’s like you're diverting where your real motivations lie, like this is you holding back.

 It’s driving him up a wall

 Your really not making this easy for him, ever your fathers child

Besides that, I'm gonna end this with a few interesting points I thought of that are more difficult to go into more detail rn

Reader is pretty okay with hanging out with Gordon mostly to be petty to Barbara

Of the mindset of “oh, you want my dad? Fine, your dad's mine now. Y oink-”

Later, this'll be a pretty big blow to Bruce's ego, bc like, that's his best friend, so how can he really be upset that Gordon stepped up where he failed? Won’t stop him from being mopey about it though.

It's also a hit to Alfred's as well, because how hadn't he noticed you growing so close to the commissioner? He though your pulling away from him for emotional support was just you growing up, not you looking for it elsewhere 

Gordon has also gotten the closest to finding the reader out, completely by accident

It was one of those days and he was worried about your sour mood, so he figured he’d drop by your workplace, pick you up after your shift ended, and go get take out

Safe to say, he was not expecting to find you mid brawl with some random drunk in an alley only 4 blocks away from where you worked

He stepped in immediately, to your surprise and horror, but he… he checked you for damage instead of slapping you in cuffs, made sure you were okay before calling an EMT to the location, and the only questions he had asked were “Are you okay sprout?”

You thanked your lucky stars that it was the drunk who had thrown the first swing, had instigated the fight, that the camera from the corner store across the street helped solidify that it was self defense, that Gordon had shown up just before it switched to a grizzly murder, and not during.

Another side story could also be the reader getting weirdly invested in the case about them at some point, because they realized they had a copycat killer and it really pissed them off lol

[apiptosis]

I still have no clue how Tumblr works but here's part 3

The third member to meet Danny is none other than our resident Demon brat.

It was rare that Damian could truly relax. In the league he had to constantly be the perfect heir, the perfect assassin. When his mother got him out it was just as hard when he had to compete with four adopted brothers, Gordon, Brown and the infamous Cassandra Cain.

It was difficult to find someone who could understand him and what he had been through and still put up with his bulshit. Damian was man enough to admit that his own attitude did not help him so when he found someone who would, whom he could let down his walls with, he grasped on with both hands.

"You seem to be thinking quite hard there Damian." A soft voice drew him from his thoughts. Damian looked her deep in her eyes freely let her peer at his thoughts. He knew she would not pry unless needed but he freely gave this.

"Just reminded myself how fortunate I was to have you." Damian admitted while they sat at their impromptu picnic.

It was rather rare for them to have dates in Gotham but today was a rare time where it was possible. The smog that always filled Gotham was almost completely absent today here in the forest at the edge of the Wayne property and perhaps most importantly, his father was off world with Cain and Grayson.

While most of the public believes Batman has a 'no metas allowed' rule, it was most certainly not true. What is true however is that his father is an overprotective idiot at times and would hover/spy onto their date.

"Dam-"

Whatever Raven was about to say was interrupted by a small sonic boom from just outside of the property that had both of them on their feet, their little picnic forgotten.

All too soon they found the source. A behemoth of a man was playing with a giant dog?

"Drop the stick boy!" The green beast dropped a log for want of a better word. "Good boy, wanna go again?" The beast gave a bark like artillery fire, tail waving like rotor blades. The man pick up the log and launched as though it was a javelin with a "Fetch Cujo!"

With one last artillery bark the beast bound after with great speed.

The man let out a deep sigh as he fell back into the shade of the nearby tree. "Man I wish I had more off days like this. Mhmmm, people? Hello there. Didn't think there would be people this far out. I'm Danny."

The man, Danny, waved as he lazily greeted them from where he lay on his bag in the shade. Danny lay so openly and without care that they could easily observe him.

Danny was very obviously a meta, his lazy smile with far too many sharp teeth, elfin ears and skin that was almost paler than Raven's. Most glaring was his height at seven and a half feet and shoulders nearly half as broad. (see Drake I can learn your freedom units)

"Damian" "Rachel" they introduced themselves.

"You two out on a date? It's one of my rare days off so I was planning one myself but unfortunately my girlfriend's dad needed help so she's out of town with him and her brother." Danny offered up freely. There was no hostile intent as far as Damian could tell. 'His intentions are true and there is no amniosity. His mind is well protected though.' Raven shared with telepathy.

"I take it your job is rather taxing?" Damian prodded.

Danny snorted "Nah man, I'm a university student, Aerospace engineering. The degree is kicking my ass but that's due to the amount of stuff I have to do. It's like they are afraid that I will have free time because I swear some of my projects and tests aren't for engineering.

Last week I had to write a chem exam and yesterday I had to submit a project that I'm pretty sure was a business model in disguise. If my luck holds out I might get a psych test next week. Ugh I'm already half dead, now their trying to get me to fully dead."

That was... concerning. It sounds like danny was possible rogue material and the university was trying their best to keep him from actually going rogue.

"So your taking a break and playing with you dog?" Raven asked.

"Yeah, Cujo is a sweetheart but it's hard to play with him here since people keep attacking him when he's in his large form." Danny explained as the dog bounded back without his stick. Worryingly there was a bit of blood on him. The dog had obviously been in a fight.

"Again buddy? Why can't they just leave you alone. Let's see what it's this time." Cujo dropped a finger on the ground with a very familiar green ring.

"He's a rescue I suppose but he was originally a guard dog and he was trained to disarm people when they attack him so I keep having to stash away guns and the like. With how crazy some people are I really should be prepared for things like this."

The ring seemed to sluggishly work it's way off of the finger before shooting straight for Danny.

"Daniel Fenton of -"Danny swiped the ring out of the air and held it in a tight grip. "Nah ah, I already have one green magic ring and I don't want a talking one on top of that!"

Danny rummaged through his bag before pulling out his thermos that smelled like coffee and chugged it like he was drakes long lost twin and managing to seal it into the thermos.

"There, I'll figure out what to do with that later."Sigh."well I guess we can talk at a later time but after that I'm heading home. Cujo shrink!"

The massive beast of a dog deflated like a balloon till it was the size of a small dog, happily trudging sfter it's owner as they hiked in the direction of Gotham.

With a glance to Raven, he confirmed that she was just as bewildered by the interaction as he was. Eventually they returned to their date, no use in letting odd encounters ruin their day, but Damian kept the name in the back of his head for now.

Later that night Damian found himself in the watchtower, going for the terminal so he could research this Daniel Fenton. He would have done this at home but Drake hogged the bat computer, nou doubt pinning after his coffee crush.

Along the way he found a small congregation of heroes trying to drown out Guy Gardner but also had to listen to his report as his hand was quite bandaged and missing a finger...

"On my patrol I nearly got Final destinationed by a flying log and then I got attacked by a green beast that wouldn't go down no matter what I thew at it. To make matters worse it was able to bite off my ring!" Guy complained incessantly.

Suddenly it made perfect sense why Danny was so upset but accepting of people attacking Cujo. How many times has this happened to him? How many times had the guy patched up his dogs wounds because people attacked him. How many of those time was it a hero who attacked Cujo? Damian could feel for both Danny and his dog.

"Sounds like you attacked a dog playing fetch and got upset when you couldn't hurt a dog for playing. Neutralizing an attacker's weapon is the bare basics of any guard dog's training." Damian found himself snapping at the man. Superman nodding along with him.

"Robin is right, while I am very concerned about you losing your ring, I am also concerned that you would attack a dog for playing fetch. I do the same with Crypto." Superman chastised Guy sternly.

[butchpeace]

My older brother is an autogynephilic TIM.

After a long time of trying to hide my real feelings and convince myself to be supportive, I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t do that anymore.

I believe that a main motivation for his transition was jealousy towards me growing up. It’s become increasingly clear that he genuinely just wishes he were me.

He was misogynistic, controlling, talked down to me and treated me like I was stupid during our childhood. As a teenager, he got interested in pedophilic anime. The kind with the characters who look like little girls but are supposed to be high schoolers. He likely became interested in yuri manga at this time - pedophilic anime lesbian porn.

The way he treated me had a very negative effect on my self esteem and mental health as a young woman, and that was part of what led to my trans identification and eventual transition. I hated him. But he had also been part of what shaped my negative self image, and I had internalized it. The idea that I was stupid, not worth the same as he was, that my feelings didn’t matter, that I was a burden on the family. It wasn’t just him, but my childhood in general shaped me into a self-hating young woman who felt like she needed to escape and become something else.

A few years after I began transition, he “came out”. We were living under the same roof at the time, and I was truthfully very uncomfortable. I was uncomfortable all the time, and didn’t feel at home in my own home. And I kept trying to push that feeling down because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought I was being judgmental, that my instincts were wrong and I shouldn’t listen to them. That’s when I started peaking and started to consider detransition. I found a roommate and moved out. And even then I felt guilty, because he whined about not having anyone else to live with.

When he changed his name, he was pissed off that he hadn’t been born female, because he wanted my name. He said this in front of the whole family. That he doesn’t know what name he wants to go by, his only idea was what he would have been named if he were female, which is my name. He ended up choosing one of the most cliche TIM names you can choose. Another time, someone asked him his favorite colors. He told them his favorite colors were the ones I always said were my favorite as a kid. This isn’t a coincidence - It’s a specific list of colors.

These sound like just little things, and most people would brush it off, but they instantly made my brain go into red alert mode. Since then he’s become very outspoken about being a “lesbian”. He talks about wishing he could find a girlfriend, being a “lonely lesbian”, a “useless lesbian”, being “soooo gay”, whatever. He has the flags, he suddenly likes cats despite being allergic and never liking animals at all before. He watches anime and tv shows with lesbian characters and thirsts after characters like Vi from Arcane while talking about his “gender envy”.

He makes objectifying comments about women’s bodies, calls himself and my female family members “bitch”. Infantilizes himself and loves to talk about how “weak” he is. There are too many things to list honestly. All the ways in which it’s obvious that he has no idea what being a woman actually is.

We’ve only seen each other a few times a year at most in the years since then, and I’ve just tried to avoid and ignore and not engage in conversations with him. All the while he acts nice, like he never did anything harmful to me growing up, as if being trans was his problem and “becoming a woman” fixed him. As if I’m the one being unreasonable for being distant and not having a close relationship.

I’m seeing more and more clearly how hollow it all is. How fake it all is. How probably perverted it all is. He was a harmful influence on my life. And now he acts like he’s a woman, and it’s hollow, and somehow he thinks that means it’s all erased and forgiven.

We’re both grown adults now, and he only physically hurt me once as a kid, but growing up seeing him fly into a rage every time I didn’t agree with him still makes me afraid of the threat of violence from him. That’s part of why it was so hard to speak up and why it’s still uncomfortable to be around him.

The crazy thing is that I know multiple detrans women who have TIM older brothers. I’ve heard from other women that there seems to be a trend of lesbians in general with TIM older brothers. There’s a pattern here, and it’s not a good one.

We need to be talking about this. Stop the silence 📣

TW: Don’t look at the comments if you’re sensitive to sexual assault triggers. I’m deleting when I see them but the creeps have definitely found this post.

[odiabonecessario]

Ngl, I forgot it was possible to tag someone even though I did the same with a content creator I like a long time ago so I just kept staring at my phone screen for a while before touching it—

I'm aware of it, in fact I really try to find the truth from both sides. It doesn't have anything exactly related but I always had some kind of faith that most people who we see as unredeemable can get their redemption. I don't know the name of the guy but I really like the example of that dude who entered in the damn KKK and converted a lot of them I wish I could say with certainty that it was 200 but I'm not sure. I'm not going to advocate for the guy who wrote that but I can't deny it also feels like some sort of persecution sometimes

For example, Simone de Beauvoir was defending to lower the age of consent and apparently has correlation with nazis I guess? I can't say for sure about the last one, honestly. The creator of the trans flag was a autogynephilic who felt pleasure from wearing underwears of his own mom and wrote a whole book that'd be considered as lolicon content. Wtf do these two have in common? You don't see any of these two guidelines being interrogated by the at very least questionable actions of their "creators" [emphasizing the quote marks because they're not exactly the creator of these groups but rather had a important impact]

One of the things I'm already complaining about is that I don't know how to do something at all about Men's Rights on a political aspect. I'm not even talking about becoming a politician, I'm just talking about at least helping in any way

I don't think I'll ever find a group like MRM but that doesn't mean I'm against women fighting for a more equal society. Heck, I don't expect anyone to agree with me nor anything at all of what I say. If I make a comparison with my posts from just one year ago I'm pretty sure even myself would look at misogynistic shit and say "whoa". I'm just trying to find a way to help people like everyone else and I'm open to change my views, in fact I agree with feminism more than it seems — it's just that I've been suffocated by only one side for so long and coming from my mom and ex-stepmom that I think I already said in the past everything I agreed so now that I'm free I can just talk about the ways I disagree with them, kinda like my experience with leftism

Even when I'm disagreeing with something, I kinda have to pull myself back and understand everyone's trying to figure things out

Some men expecting women/feminists to be the ones to advocate for "men's mental health" is so crazy to me because THEY'RE the reason mens' mental health is so awful😭 men are literally each others worst enemies yet for some reason we have to be the ones to advocate for them

[jadeshifting]

i want to shift tonight but i literally haven’t legitimately tried in years. honestly i just want the freaking accomplishment of TRYING at least

if you could give me the most simple mundane steps to even get close to like a relaxation state or feel any symptoms, that would be literally perfect because im a train wreck and i can’t handle complicated instructions

with love,

aves

MY LOVEEE AVES sorry i didn’t get to this until right now, i’m not sure if our time zones are different but i wish i could’ve helped you last night, when you sent this ask i was drunk and eating a gyro on a sidewalk 😔

i completely understand where you’re coming from !! i feel like i have my nighttime routine pretty down, so i’d be happy to give u my lil routine, BUT a couple disclaimers first:

— you don’t need any routine to shift !! sources like early shifttok kept trying to brainrot everyone into thinking they had to do their skincare, clean their room, do their homework, drink a gallon of water, etc etc etc before bed in order to shift. that’s dumb, ignore everyone who said that

— i totally get what you mean when you say you haven’t legitimately tried in years. i fall victim constantly to the “don’t try at all to avoid the disappointment of ‘failure’”, like if i make no attempt at all, then i didn’t fail at anything when i wake up in my CR in the morning

the way i got past this was by “attempting” every night. and i don’t mean laying there and trying to force myself to stay awake while i counted backwards from 100 or anything like that. i mean deep breathing, loosely (BIG emphasis on loosely) visualizing where i’ll be waking up, and telling myself ‘i’m in my DR.’

the first step to the mindset shift is that ‘attempts’ don’t really exist, only whether or not you’ve fully and truly decided you are in your DR

there’s plenty more i could say on this topic, which is farrrr more important than the night routine itself, but i’ll get into what you actually asked for now:

— DRIFT & SHIFT ( a teensy little night routine for the girlies who have a hard time chilling out )

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

( your night routine won’t determine whether or not you shift, but it certainly helps if you’re relaxed, and that’s what this routine is for )

DAYTIME PREP .　　. 　 ˚　. throughout your day, do robotic affirmations. it’s a great thing to get in the habit of doing in general—murmuring to yourself, humming, or just silently repeating them to yourself in your head. “I am shifting every second.” “I am a master shifter.” “I am aware of my desired reality.” “Shifting is less than effortless.” feed your subconscious the important stuff all day, not just at night

1 .　　. 　 ˚　. PHONE ON SILENT — the moment you decide to start winding down and focusing on relaxation. i mean it. not even vibrate. SILENT.

2 .　　. 　 ˚　. HOT SHOWER — i always feel my most relaxed when i crawl into bed after taking a burning hot shower. the sigh you let out when you’re squeaky clean and wrapping yourself in your comforter means you’ve reached an entirely new plane of relaxation

3 .　　. 　 ˚　. STRETCHING — you don’t even need a yoga mat, you can do it once you’re already laying down. alternatively, you don’t even have to stretch, just systematically go through each of your body parts and make a point to relax them. regardless of which you do, the objective is to release any physical tension from the day. sink into your bed like you’re being pulled down into a cloud

4 .　　. 　 ˚　. SOUNDTRACK — put on something in the background, it truly doesn’t matter what—whatever feels right. it could be positive frequencies, a subliminal for shifting, ambient sound that connects you to your DR (hogwarts common room ambiance, forest or ocean sounds, etc. i’ve found some real gems on youtube before), or just soft music playing. quiet enough so it doesn’t distract you, and you can sink into it

5 .　　. 　 ˚　. SCENTTRACK — my reasoning for spraying various perfumes, lavender blend sleep sprays, or body mists before i go to sleep isn’t just for relaxation, it’s also for distraction. in my experience, if something in my environment is different when i’m laying down to sleep (a different smell than i’m used to, for example) makes it much easier to convince myself that i’m aware of another reality—which is the name of the game, really: believing it

6 .　　. 　 ˚　. DEEP BREATHS — my favorite part, and the most important part. nothing in the whole world will get you more relaxed than laser-focusing in on your breathing—in, out, in, out. you’re already in your DR

let go of the pressure and let yourself float into that in-between state where dreams and reality start to blur

goodnight, shifter. sweet dreams and even sweeter DRs :^)

.　　. 　 ˚　. this guide is for anyone, but this DISCLAIMER IS FOR AVERY MY DEAR SPECIFICALLY — you get in your head about this sort of thing and overthink it. no tip or trick or routine is the “secret” to shifting. your mindset and your affirmations are the key, here. i hope this guide helps you relax for bed before shifting, but what you should be focusing on is tending to your precious subconscious and its tightly held beliefs. you’ve already shifted 🫶

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

[lucy90712]

Finding out you’re pregnant

A/n: Happy new year guys. As promised for the new year this is the start of a pregnancy mini series. New parts will be out when I can get them done hope you enjoy ~ Lucy 

Gavi: 

Over the past week or so I haven't been feeling right I've felt nauseous most days and just overall not myself. I have also missed my period which only really points to one thing but I don't want to believe it. Pablo and I are still so young sure we've been together for nearly 3 years now but having kids isn't something we've talked about much. We both want them but it was always an in the future thing so for it to maybe be happening now has me panicking. I know I should take a test to find out for sure but I'm scared because once I know the result it becomes real and if I'm pregnant I have to tell Pablo. 

Today though I feel like I can't put it off anymore I have to find out and deal with the consequences whatever they are. I can't do it alone though so I went out and got a test as Mikky is coming over with Miles and I figured she'd be a good person to have around when I find out as she's been through it all. When she arrived I told her how I'd been feeling and my plan and she was encouraging me straight away telling me that everything would be fine. After I took the test she waited with me and even looked at the result first as I was too scared even though I already knew what it would be. Once my suspicions were confirmed and I knew I was pregnant the conversation turned to how to tell Pablo, Mikky suggested doing something simple like just giving him the test in a box so that's what we set up. 

When Pablo finally got home Mikky left leaving just the two of us. Being alone with him I felt so nervous I mean what is he going to think he doesn't often get mad at me but I can see this being one of the rare times he does. Surely he doesn't want to be tied down by a baby when his career is just starting out I know he wants to enjoy being young but I don't know if he can do that for much longer. 

"Are you ok you've been extra quiet ever since I got home" Pablo said 

"I'm fine but I have something for you" I said handing him the box 

"You're pregnant" he whispered clearly shocked 

"Yeah I am and I know we said we weren't ready for kids so I'm sorry and I get if you want nothing to do with me now" I rambled

"Hey it's ok I'm actually really excited we're starting our own family sure it's sooner than I imagined but I can't wait to see this baby grow" he said giving me a kiss which made me feel a lot better 

Pedri: 

Pedri and I have talked about having kids. Starting a family is something we both want but neither of us are quite ready yet or at least we weren't but now we might have to be. I've been feeling quite sick the last few days and straight away my mind went to the day Pedri and I weren't as careful as we usually are which of course has come back to haunt us. I wanted to ignore it and at least wait for my period to be late but Pedri wanted to know now and I'm not going to say no. 

To find out we needed a test as I don't keep them on hand as we are always careful so I don't keep tests for emergencies but maybe I should. Pedri wanted to come in the store with me but he also didn't want us to be seen and for someone to put our business all over social media. So it was just me who went in wearing sunglasses and a mask so no one recognised me either. It was so nerve wracking buying the test especially when the cashier wished me luck I felt like a teenager sneaking around behind their parents back. On the drive home Pedri held my hand the entire way trying to help calm me down which was a sweet gesture but it didn't really help. 

Back in the comfort of our own home I went straight to the downstairs bathroom to take the test. Pedri stood with me as we waited the 5 minutes for the results his arms were around my waist and my head rested on his chest as I thought about what the result might mean for us. It all feels like a lot but having Pedri there made me feel a lot better as it felt like we were truly in this together. The timer I set scared the both of us as we were in our own little world but quickly we were brought back to reality. As I went to flip the test my hands were shaking so Pedri put his hand on top of mine and we flipped the test together. Two very obvious lines stared back at us both which I thought would make me feel nervous but I was actually overwhelmed with excitement. 

"I can't believe it I'm actually so excited" Pedri said 

"Me too I thought I'd be more scared but I'm actually so happy" I said 

"Clearly we were ready to take this step and just needed the push to realise it" he said 

Jude: 

Jude has always said he doesn't want kids and I was on board with that as having kids isn't something I've ever been crazy about. It isn't something I ever ruled out completely as you know people can change their minds but in my mind that was at least 5-10 years in the future if ever. Recently though I've just felt off like somethings not right so when my period was a few days late my mind went straight to the worst case scenario. Any normal person would probably tell their partner and they would figure it out together but I'm terrified to tell Jude in case he leaves me as he has made it very clear multiple times that having kids isn't something he wants. 

This fear is exactly why I went and got a test and took it on my own without anyone knowing. I could've talked to one of my friends but I didn't want anyone to possibly let it slip to Jude as I need to be the one to tell him. Of course the result was exactly as I feared it would be I was very much pregnant. I cried for hours after I found out as I knew I had to tell Jude and deal with whatever the consequences will be which will probably end with me doing this alone when Jude ultimately decides to leave me. Realistically I should've told him that day to get it over with but I couldn't handle it mentally so I put it off. 

It has now been over a week and I am still hiding this big secret from Jude, I have wanted to tell him I really have but the right moment hasn't come up yet. He is starting to get a bit suspicious though as he keeps asking me if I'm ok and giving me weird looks when I say I'm fine. As I've waited so long I've built up this moment so much that I'm so scared for it to actually happen. 

"Hi love how are you?" Jude asked as he arrived home from training 

"I'm good how was your day?" I asked back 

"What's up with you I can tell you are keeping something from me please just tell me what it is whatever's wrong we can figure it out together" he nearly begged 

"Please don't be mad but I'm pregnant" I finally blurted out 

"Wow that's not what I was expecting" he said 

"I'm sorry just please don't leave me" I cried 

"I'm not going to leave you I promise I just wasn't expecting that I know I said I didn't want kids but for some reason I feel different with you I'm ready to step up and for us to do this together I'm actually kind of excited" he said 

"I love you" was all I managed to say 

"I love you more" he said 

Joao: 

Joao and I have been together for a few years and engaged for a year now and after moving to London we had a discussion about our future together and ultimately we decided that both of us were ready to take the next step and start a family. Even though we said we were ready we agreed that we didn't want to rush the process at least not right now so we wanted to take a more casual approach. I stopped taking my birth control but I haven't been tracking my cycle or doing anything special as I'm under the impression that it will happen when it happens. 

Over the past few weeks I've been feeling really ill I just have no energy and I have been feeling nauseous most days. To start with I just got on with my life as I thought it was just a little cold or something but as time has gone on and I've not got any better I realised it must be something more. Joao made me call off work the past few days to rest and see if that makes me feel any better but that hasn't helped either. After another day of barely leaving our bed Joao suggested I take a pregnancy test just to be sure as then if it's not that he will definitely make me go to the doctors. 

Luckily I have pregnancy tests in the bathroom for situations like this so Joao helped me out of bed and I took the test with him waiting for me right outside. I sat the test on my bedside table and we just waited. Joao had me sat in his lap on the edge of the bed stroking my hair but we sat in silence while I thought about whether I could actually be pregnant. It hasn't been long at all since I stopped taking my birth control and I didn't think it would happen this quickly but if it did that would be really exciting. The 5 minute timer Joao set passed rather quickly and suddenly it was time to learn if our lives will be changed forever or if I'm just really run down. 

"I'm pregnant" I said not quite believing what the test in my hand read

"I can't believe it who knew it would happen so quickly" Joao said 

"I know we haven't even been trying properly" I said 

"At least we know why you have been feeling so awful now" Joao laughed 

Ruben: 

Ruben and I have been trying for a baby for almost a year now. To start with we were trying more casually but then I started tracking my cycle and we did things properly but that didn't work either. We have tried every tip and trick and still no positive pregnancy test. There has been times that I've had symptoms like nausea and I've even been late on my period a few times but still every month I'm greeted with a negative test. It's been hard as I want nothing more than to start a family with Ruben and I just feel so useless that I can't get pregnant like every other woman I know can. 

Again this month I've had some symptoms like being extra tired and not liking food I usually love but I don't want to get my hopes up as I've been in this position before and only been let down. It's always difficult not to get a bit excited at the prospect of finally being pregnant but I don't think I can handle another disappointment at least not night now. The amount of times I have wanted to just give up have only increased especially recently, this whole process is just making me feel awful and I don't know if it is worth it especially right now. 

Ruben wants me to take a test again and I can see why but I've been putting it off to avoid the disappointment. I promised him that today I would take a test but we agreed that if it was negative that we'd take a break from trying and I wouldn't take another test for a while just to protect my mental health. Of course Ruben came back from training super excited but I just can't get myself to feel the same way. Despite that I still took the test and just gave it to Ruben as I simply don't want to see the one line I've become accustomed to seeing. 

"I-it's positive" Ruben chocked out a few minutes later 

"What?" I questioned 

"It's positive we're going to have a baby" Ruben said handing me the test so I could see for myself 

He wasn't wrong there was two clear lines on the test. Neither of us could stop the tears from flowing as Ruben picked me up and spun me round which made me feel quite sick but I couldn’t care less I was just so happy this nightmare has finally ended with the result we wanted. 

[our-arospec-experience]

slightly negative rant idk. tw relationships and harassment

So. I’m partnering and I do actually really like my partner, but I can’t stop thinking about how fucked up us getting together was. I told them I was aro and they basically harassed me, asking me out every day in spite of multiple rejections until I caved in and accepted being in an alterous relationship with them. It was genuinely one of the most awful experiences of my life and I cried myself to sleep every day because I felt so violated. I tried bringing it up recently and how it was really hurtful of them but they just acted offended mostly… idk. Now that we’ve been together for a while I do genuinely love them in an aro way and they haven’t been abusive at all but I feel… angry at them and and myself for giving them what they wanted?? And now they are always talking about how they like romance better as if they weren’t the one desperate to be in a relationship with me. I just wish the boundaries of aros were more respected :(

that sounds like your partner was being really disrespectful of your boundaries and identity. However this turns out, I hope you’re okay. Perhaps find someone you trust, like a friend or family member, to talk to about this with?

[taffywabbit]

oops i accidentally wrote a review for zelda II: the adventure of link

(originally posted to Cohost on Feb 22, 2024. you can ignore this if you want, i just wanted it archived somewhere before that site disappears)

Finally beat Zelda II for the first time last night (I forced myself to finish it before starting Splatoon 3's Side Order DLC, because I knew if I didn't push through to the end of the Great Palace THIS time then it'd be years before I tried beating it again. This is probably my 4th or 5th attempt at this point). Not that this is a particularly hot take by most people's standards, but I don't think it's all that good, at least from a gameplay standpoint.

I don't regret playing it though, because I think I'm finally able to put my finger on the stuff I actually disliked about it vs the stuff that was honestly fine, or even (very rarely) actually good? I'm kinda fascinated by it, honestly. Sequels where they immediately screw around with the first game's formula (to mixed results) are neat! FE Gaiden is another example that comes to mind (hey they should give Zelda II the Shadows of Valentia treatment, that could be really cool actually).

Obviously Zelda II has a reputation for being kind of a rough experience. It's an NES game, and NES games are often susceptible to being frustrating, buggy, hard to control, or overly punishing. Sometimes, all of the above! And for what it's worth, the original Legend of Zelda was a tough and sometimes very cryptic experience as well. But I feel like the two games are challenging in drastically different ways, and I think TLoZ ended up being the formula that was retained in the long term primarily because its method of challenging the player overall did a better job of inspiring curiosity and exploration. Despite narratively being a direct sequel (with a really badass story premise that is unfortunately not really conveyed at all in-game) Zelda II took a different approach to nearly every element of the original's gameplay, which is a pretty bold move I suppose. Whether or not it succeeds at anything is fairly subjective, but it's undeniably had a lasting impact on the series, as well as the people who grew up with it (and then they went on to make some really excellent mid-2000's flash games inspired by it that I frankly enjoyed a lot more than this... and also a weirdly solid licensed Adventure Time game on the 3DS? I should go back and play that sometime, it's really fun).

Where to start with this...? Uhhh, the EXP-based leveling system where you choose what stats to put your points into is interesting! It creates a risk-and-reward system for fighting enemies instead of avoiding them, whereas in most other Zelda games besides BotW/TotK, the only reward for killing monsters is "they are no longer bothering you while you solve puzzles, and also sometimes they drop rupees/hearts/ammo". It also introduces a bit more player choice in what areas you'd like to get stronger in first, which is cool! I just wish it actually mattered in a way that let you feel powerful for even a moment. Instead, leveling Life (which is functionally just defense) is never enough to actually make you feel like you can afford to take a hit - the expectation seems to be that leveling Attack, Life, and Magic is something you do purely to keep up with how badly every single thing in this game wants to stomp you into the ground and soak up a million hits and waste all your magic. You CAN skip out on leveling one stat to prioritize another, or even try to evade tough combat situations entirely, but if you aren't leveled enough and in the exact things the game expects you to be WHEN it expects you to be, you'll immediately bump into some new asshole who jumps out of nowhere and can cut you down in 2-3 hits. Leveling doesn't make you tangibly stronger, it merely keeps the game barely playable.

This actually ends up being the core problem I have with Zelda II's design, far more than just the combat being clunky and overly punishing or the levels being visually samey and super hard to navigate. In most Zelda games (and also in a lot of other RPGs!), you get a better sword or a new power or item, and it opens up exciting new options for both exploration and combat. In Zelda II, you level up or earn a new item/spell, it's useful for maybe 20-30 minutes, and then it's immediately nullified. Wow, you got the Fire spell! Now you can finally deal with Tektites and Basilisks (which are immune to all other attacks) on the way to the next area! Well, I hope you had fun with that, because Fire doesn't work on most things you run into afterwards.

Easily the biggest game-changer is when you unlock the Downward Thrust sword technique, and finally have another option for combat besides just crouch-hopping and poking monsters with a dull butter knife. It's satisfying to use, it looks cool (by this game's standards), and it even has some utility for crossing hazards or defending yourself against swooping enemies! Cool! Unfortunately, they don't let you play around with that for long either, before nearly every enemy you see starts rolling up with helmets or shells that make them immune to attacks from above, and you never really get anything like that again (the Upward Thrust exists later, but it's far more situational and frankly not very fun or intuitive to use). Rather than feeling like you're being given tools to overcome challenges and stay above the difficulty curve, it feels like you're constantly just slightly underequipped for everything (even if you grind to earn extra stat levels) and any edge you're given is swiftly taken away from you. (Except the Reflect spell, which is ALWAYS a banger after you get it because it makes your shield Actually Do Its Damn Job after nearly every enemy starts shooting projectiles you can't block. Good work, Reflect spell.)

I feel like I grew up hearing plenty of people talk about the overall difficulty of Zelda II, though most of the complaints about its puzzles were surface-level jabs about the short cryptic NPC text, and none of that prepared me for just how ridiculously obtuse its mandatory puzzles/secrets can be. I genuinely have no idea how anyone would EVER find the Life spell - pretty much your ONLY source of healing outside of towns, since there are no hearts to pick up in this game - without some kind of guide. I was FURIOUS when I finally looked up where to find that lady's mirror and discovered that you have to walk into one of the houses, go over to the table that looks EXACTLY like every other table in every other house in the entirety of Hyrule, crouch, and press B, and you'll just pull the mirror out of nowhere. This type of interaction does not exist ANYWHERE else in the game and there's no in-game hint to indicate that you should try this. Absolutely maddening.

This and its predecessor are both games that seemingly expect you to have the physical manual on hand to help you find secrets, but at least in the first game, the way the game was designed was consistent enough that you COULD feasibly find your way to the end of it without a guide. Bombable walls in dungeons always being located in the center, things like that. It had rules and it could generally be trusted to follow them. Zelda II, in comparison, has a final level (the Great Palace) in which there are numerous rooms that look IDENTICAL and if you make one wrong turn you can go through the entire [very difficult and dangerous] dungeon on a path parallel to the one you need to be on, only to hit a dead end and be able to see the spot you're supposed to be reaching on the other side of a wall. Except you would also never KNOW you need to get there, because it looks like another dead end full of monsters but there's actually a completely invisible hole somewhere in the floor over there that drops you into the hallway leading towards the final boss. Also there is no map. TLoZ had a map. I don't know why this game doesn't have a map. Possibly because if you try to look up maps online, most of the dungeons feature non-Euclidean spaces? Idk, even a Super Metroid-style grid map would've done wonders here.

The combat is... fine? I truly don't understand how anyone thinks it's GREAT though. Zelda II is kind of like a version of Castlevania where you don't have a whip and instead have to stab everything at extremely short range, and also sometimes enemies have shields so you have to crouch sometimes to stop them from blocking you. It feels tense and high-stakes but only because, as I mentioned earlier, you really cannot afford to take stray hits in this game. Most enemies chew through your health at an alarming rate, even with the Shield spell active, and there's almost no way to replenish it unless you use a Life spell (which costs a huge chunk of your magic, possibly softlocking you if you end up in a place that requires other spells to progress). I got better at the combat over the course of my playthrough, but I never felt like I got good at it - most of my victories against strong enemies felt like pure luck and there were rarely consistent strategies for success. All of this combined with the fact that Zelda II has limited lives (and I mean LIMITED - there are only six 1-UPs in the entire game, which can each only be collected once) and getting a Game Over anywhere outside of the final palace will send you all the way back to the starting area, and it makes for an incredibly stressful experience. Even making use of savestates to lighten the fear of death can only do so much to improve it.

Overall, I think that Zelda II is a game that has a lot of really promising ideas, but then just absolutely flops when it comes to the execution. I didn't have a better way of organizing these but here are a few examples of elements I DID particularly like, even if they didn't always stick the landing:

I like the idea of the RPG leveling system in theory, but wish it was more empowering in practice and actually let the player make meaningful choices instead of just being required to survive. Choosing to hold off on a Life upgrade and instead save up just a little longer to boost your Attack feels awesome, until you time one of your inputs wrong and get destroyed. In a game with better-tuned difficulty and combat, this system would be great!

I REALLY like that Zelda II introduced a magic system to the series! I think it's cool as hell to have Link learning and casting spells to protect himself, solve puzzles, and exploit enemy weaknesses, instead of relying purely on items. (It's honestly weird to think that a system I associate so strongly with classic Zelda gameplay has only actually showed up in 4 of the games?? I guess you could consider the runes/hand abilities in BotW/TotK to be kind of like modern spells, or the slowly-refilling energy gauge in ALBW to be the most recent iteration of a Magic Meter, but both are highly debatable. Anyways I just think they should let Link shapeshift into a fairy again, that was cool.) But most of the spells in this are fairly situational and your access to magic refills is so limited that you rarely have the freedom to experiment with the spells' secondary functions (hey did you know the Spell spell turns most enemy types into slimes? that's wild. I wish I'd known that sooner).

The overworld functioning like a traditional JRPG, with top-down exploration broken up by semi-random enemy encounters, was something I honestly didn't hate. It's a little weird for Zelda, sure, but I could see it working well to support other systems in a more polished game. Overworld encounters that switch you into a type of gameplay other than turn-based JRPG combat are something I've always been fascinated by!

Anyways, weird game! I'm glad I finally got closure so I could figure out how I personally feel about it, independent of whatever the random youtubers I watched as a teenager thought. And now I never have to play it again :)

[fanaticsnail]

Countdown From Ten

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,000

Synopsis: Wire is adamant on starting the new year off with fireworks. If you'd have thought the type of fireworks he was wanting to burst into the new year was him edging you until the count down begins, you might've never agreed to it.

Themes: Wire x afab!reader, edging, orgasm denial, confessions, time skipping, mdni, NSFW, 18+, smut, P in V sex, oral, fingering, love confession, cream pie, size difference.

Notes: Happy new year! I loved writing this one, and adore Wire so much. I can't wait to write more for him coming into the new year.

Ten.

Your back arched off the bed as you felt your encumbering high reach ever nearer. One large, skilled hand reached over your belly to push you back down onto the bed, splayed over your flesh and engulfed your much smaller form beneath their palm and fingers. While the intensity of the world began to ebb away from the cusps of reality the closer you drew, his fingers hastily left your dripping cunt and gently tapped your thigh.

“Not yet.”

Nine.

You had made a grave mistake in front of your crew a few nights prior. When they had asked everyone if they had any regrets coming into the new year over a few pints, you should’ve remained quiet. Instead, the boldness in the burn of alcohol rid your body of inhibitions as you spoke up. While Heat had suggested he should’ve dedicated more time to learning how to swim, and Killer had said he desired to learn how to perfect the most delicious lasagne, your regret was far more personal.

“I wish I had orgasmed at least once this year.” 

In lieu of an uproar of laughter that the others claimed from unearthing their wants, yours was met with a grave silence and a few empathetic clashes of tankards against your own. 

“Not even once?”

“You took a few to bed over the past couple raids. Didn’t they make you cum?”

“There was all kinds of fun happening at the pleasure district last week. I know you were there, one of the employees took your hand and lead you up to the rooms. Not even them?”

“Are you sure?”

You answered all of their questions by simply gulping back your drink and placing the container upside down on the benchtop in front of you. Shaking your head, you gave a variety of answers ranging from: “They were selfish lovers,” to, “It was my fault. Made them cum too early and they were tired,” and, “I don’t actually think I even can cum anymore,” or, “I didn’t have time to touch myself at all between the fights, workload, and sailing to different islands. Can't even fuck myself.”

While three of the commanders listened to your plight while clicking their tongues and shaking their heads, another reacted a little differently.

Wire had other plans.

Eight.

A keening whine left your lips as your clit quivered in sorrow. You had been so close to eruption that you felt the tingles lingering beneath your skin and your toes curling in annoyance. With a few quick motions, you thumped your head back against the pillow behind you. 

“Wire, please!” you called while clawing at the hand on your belly holding you down. A warm chuckle fled from his lips as he gently carved intricate circles into your skin by the caress of your thigh. 

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he gently chastised you before leaning forward towards your glistening cunt, “Just hold out a little longer. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

Seven.

After finishing his drink at the table and watching as you drew Quincy onto the dance floor, the cogs began to tip behind his eyes. A new bar, a new day, a new raid that ended in victory by the skilled labors of the Kid Pirate crew - yet, Wire sat stewing in his mind while fermenting the many possibilities on how to repair one wrong he would see righted. 

“What’s got you all up in a tizzy, man?” Heat asked as he slumped into the chair beside Wire. Wire recoiled and looked down at his shorter friend with perplexion over his face. 

“Firstly, ‘up in a tizzy’? Really?” He furrowed his brows and turned back towards the dance floor, “Secondly, not cumming for a year.” 

“You still thinking about that?” Heat queeried as he gently nudged Wire’s shoulder with his own, “To be honest with you, so am I. A whole year? Nothing? No…?” He gestured crudely with his hands a depiction of an eruption with his fingers demonstrating a hasty fling. “Must’ve found a few shit partners. Why not ask the crew for help?”

“I have a feeling the stupid saying: ‘don’t shit where you eat,’ has something to do with it,” Wire nodded, watching as Quincy wrapped her arms around you and drew you into a playful kiss. You reciprocated with a smile on your face, breaking away thereafter and laughed with her. “Quincy could do something about that expression, or I could take matters into my own hands.”

"Oh?” Heat quirked up his brow in interest, “Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d get sweet on someone. Not gonna let Quincy do her thing?”

Wire stood without a further word, giving a pointed stare at one of his oldest friends, and turned to make his way towards you as a few hours were left on the countdown clock. Taking your hand in his own, he led you away from Quincy towards the upper rooms of the tavern you’d claimed as loot. 

Six.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered as he drew his face towards your pussy. His lips curled up into a smile and indulged in flicking a fat stipe against your dripping slit to your clit. He hummed enthusiastically as he latched onto your pearled bud and sucked on it. Each motion was him mouthing and indulging in his every fluid momentum. He was romancing your pussy with his motions, his eyes meeting yours as he felt the call of your bliss reach the cusps of ecstasy.

Reaching behind his head and grasping a heaved fistful of his salt and peppered hair, tugging him both into you and away from you to grind your body against his assaulting lips. Wire muffled a soft, “nuh uh,” sound into your body and removed his face from your pussy immediately. 

“Just a little longer, and I promise it’ll be worth it,” he offered sympathetically, “You’ve waited so long. Surely you can handle just a moment longer?” 

“Wire-!”

Five.

Drawing you up the stairs to the rooms they’d acquired with minimal effort was likely the longest walk of Wire’s life. What was he to say to you? “Hi, honey. I feel so bad about the thing you disclosed to me a week ago and want to fix that for you? I want to make you feel so good, cum so hard, and force you into the cusps of overstimulation until every fibre of your being feels nothing but pleasure?” 

Not a chance. 

Formulating a conversation internally as to how to bring it up himself, he was broken out of his looping mind by a small squeeze against his hand. Closing the door to the room behind you both, you gently latched the door closed and flicked the lock switch into the iron fastening. 

“You alright, commander?” you asked softly before turning to meet his eyes with your own, “I’m not in any trouble am I? I didn’t do anything I wasn’t supposed to-?” 

“-No! I, uh, I mean… No. You didn’t, honey. I just,” Wire stumbled over his words, releasing your hand in favour of withdrawing his hood and ruffling his hair, “I was just thinking about what you said the other day when we were all talking about the regrets.” 

“Oh.”

Four.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you keened for him as he added a thick finger to your center and hooking it up to grind against your g-spot. Your eyelashes fluttered as your glossy lenses began to tear up over your lashline.

“That’s it, honey,” He praised you as he used his larger hand as an anchor to draw down your waist and press your ass back into the bed. “I’ve got you. You just wait on that edge, and I promise I’ll make you feel so fucking good. Just hold on.” 

Three.

“You said you hadn’t cum all year,” Wire clarified with you as he unfastened his cloak from his shoulders and rolled the joints back to remove the weighted material, “Did you mean it?”

Shock eclipsed your face as your lips drew slack. Wire followed your vision from your eyes to his bare shoulders now unshrouded by the tarp he usually wears to shield it. His own eyes drew wide as he stumbled over his words once more. 

“No, no, no, no, I, uh, I mean-,” he waved his hands to halt any thoughts that you may have felt regarding his disrobing in place, “It’s fucking stuffy in here, and I didn’t want the damn cloak on. I’m not meaning anything by it, I swear.” 

Your laughter erupted through your lips immediately, prompting Wire to do the same. You hadn’t even thought about the initial conversation earlier in the week. Nothing about it passed your mind due to how much fun you were having with your crewmates in the few days before the new year. 

“I don’t mind, Wire. Truly, I don’t,” you nodded while teetering off your laughter, “I honestly thought you guys would let it slide-, pass it off, even.” You shrugged nonchalantly while you moved to the other side of the room. A jug of water and a few glasses decorated the space, and you elected to pour two: one for Wire before one of your own as respect for his rank. 

You handed the glass to him and took the other for yourself. Both taking small drinks from your respective glassware, you spoke up to verbalise your woes.

“I don’t want or need your sympathy, commander,” you nod while looking down into your glass. “It was my own fault. I made a whole heap of shitty decisions, didn’t enjoy a few of the consequences, and I can live without cumming-.”

Two.

“-You’re gonna make me cum!” you whined before he halted all motion and removed his hands and tongue from your core. You mourned the loss of his attention before he replaced the hand clawing bliss from your center with his blunt cockhead. The small stretch took the wind out of your body as he pushed on in. Inch by inch he drew himself down into your smaller frame as he bit back his own groans of gasping pleasure.

He was thick, girthy, and made you feel fuller than you had in your entire life. The size difference between his nine foot frame and your smaller stature was adamant, but all of the earlier edging paid off as your cunt sucked him in. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he whispered softly as he sunk himself down to the hilt. With his entire length now inside your walls and dragging against your walls. “You’re squeezing me so tight, honey. Fuck me.” A release of stringed, babbling curses fled his lips as he shallowly thrust inside you. 

Reaching down his hand to caress your face, he smoothed back skin and gently rubbed the pad of his thumb against the apple of your cheek.

“How are you feeling about it all?” he asked you while he gently rocked in and out of your hot, slick, cunt. “Too much, not enough, not like this, with something else to make it better like this?” His questions lingered in the air as your eyes squeezed shut. 

Each second that passed earlier had been almost a form of torture as you felt your orgasm fizz up, only to snuff out by the works of his lips, hands, and tongue. His cock had you feeling engulfed by his girth and stretched to your maximum capacity, but your body felt as if it would never reach the high it needed without him completely sheathed inside your cunt.

“Just like this, Wire.” You nodded up at him with your brows triangulating in the center of your forehead, “Please. Please, Wire? I need to cum. Please let me cum? I need you to make me cum. I can’t go another second without you inside me. Fuck me, Wire.” 

Wire found a new rise of determination swell within his abdomen as he set a brutal pace fucking into your desperate heat. At each cruel and unforgiving ‘plap, plap, plap,’ of his hips meeting your own, a small gasped and choking moan would spill from your parted lips each time his hips would still. 

“You’re being so patient, darling,” he praised you as he changed his position to cradle you up into his chest, “And you’re doing so well. This whole y-, fuck,” he rolled his eyes as he drew you up onto his lap. You straddled his hips and fucked yourself down desperately against his lap. Your clit brushed against his pelvis and neatly trimmed pubic hair, and your hands immediately drew themselves up onto his shoulders. 

“F-Fu-huck,” you cried out desperately as your edge again called to you. “Please, can I cum? Please, Wire? Can I cum? Will you let me cum now? Please?” Your desperation was picked up in every hitching syllable of your crying lips. Wire could do nothing but to cradle you against him and feel the way your walls began to rhythmically contract and squeeze him to the capacity you could. 

“Wait,” he gasped as he felt his own high ebb on the knife’s edge. He was so worked up from edging you for so long, he couldn’t let himself release before you had been given the chance to. The way your body felt made for him caused his brows to crease and eyes to squeeze tightly shut.

“Now.”

One.

“-I refuse to let your year start off without at least one orgasm under your belt, pardon the pun,” he chastised you firmly before rephrasing his ill-temper, “I mean, I… fuck. I’m sorry. Honey, we’re pirates. We sail, we drink - or some of us do, we fight, we fuck, and we cum. You… you deserve to cum.” 

“Wire-,” you started, only for him to strike you down with a further warning.

“-I won’t have it. You said, and I quote: ‘I wish I had orgasmed at least once this year,’ am I right?” he asked you softly while stepping towards the altar where you drew water for you both, “To make myself completely clear as glass: I am propositioning you. I like you, honey,” he confessed so plainly it seemed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to you. 

He gently raised his hand up to hover at your cheek, not yet bringing it to caress your skin and waiting for you to make a decision. Should you back out, he would leave you there to return to the party, or to sleep - both of which were more than viable options.

Or.

You were now given the chance to lay with your commander and experience being the central focus for a channel of lust. For too long had you laid back and endured the mediocre. For too long had you done all of the work for your partner to experience that encumbering high, only to roll over and slumber almost immediately. For too long had you journeyed with the Kid Pirates and withheld your feelings for the tallest commander in the hopes that they would die down and never rise once more.

But here he was, the man of your desires, offering himself to you in a way you had only ever dreamed of. He was willing to not only fuck you, but make you achieve the one thing you had long-since deprived yourself of. 

“I… I like you too, Wire,” you gasped softly while leaning into his palm with your cheek. You closed your eyes on impact and felt the emotions begin to trickle over the edge in every breath. Wire gasped as your head met his hand, a small moan fled his lips as he gazed upon you with nothing but longing and love. Lust lingered below the depths of his persona, but his love was adamant. 

“When do you want to do this?” he asked you while thumbing over your cheek and leaning in closer. His lips gently brushed its borders against your own, tasting the breath he longed to share with every soft touch. 

“Now.”

Happy New Year.

Pleasure crested in your chest as the encumbering heat bloomed in your abdomen. The long wait and long edge finally met your body with an eruption you had not anticipated. As he denied each orgasm he called you to earlier, a longer and more substantial release atop your lover’s lap. 

“Hhah-, fuck, m’cumm-ming-!” you slurred and babbled amongst your moans and whimpers. Your pussy throbbed and rhythmically squeezed Wire’s shaft in hot pulses as your release finally engulfed your senses. Wire continued to fuck you through it, keeping the pace steady as his own pleasure mounted inside your heat.

“Sh-Shit, I-I-,” Wire began as he felt your cunt continued to contract around him and milk him of his precum into his own high. “Fuck,” he called out a breathy exhale of your name as he shot his release deep inside your body. 

Cheers and hollers ricocheted from the group on the lower grounds of the occupied tavern as the crude slapping of your hips meeting his continued to clap against one another. Your high seemed never ending as his own fucked itself deep inside your body and punctuating every babbled word with its intensity. 

Your breaths caught one another as you came down from your crashing highs and riding the few lingering waves in the arms of one another. His cruel motions moved into rocks for comfort of both you and himself. His cum begun to spill out of your pussy and form a creamy ring around his cock as he kept you on top of him. 

“I… I, uh,” Wire halted in favor of a small chuckle, “I wasn’t going to allow myself to cum, you know? This was meant to be about you, honey.” You laugh alongside him as you nuzzle into his chest and brace his larger torso against your face. You whimpered into his touch while feeling his firm cock begin to deflate the longer the moments passed between you both. 

“I am glad you did. No way we both can’t start our year by cumming into it,” you smiled, only to sigh deeply into the way his heartbeat thumped against your ear. Your inhales and exhales were in perfect unity as your bodies still fit together as one. The sentimentality took you as you moved your head to gaze up into his eyes. 

“Happy new year,” you whispered in barely a breath. His lips found yours and hovered in his own response before claiming you entirely with a passionate and heated kiss to shepherd you into the new era. 

“Happy new year.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @ane5e

[crybabyddl]

Balcony Cigarettes

Eddie Munson x Reader

Warning: swearing, miscommunication/cluelessness, friends to lovers, kissing, smoking

Author’s Note: I’m at work and this popped into my head. I wish I had a whole story behind this, but I don’t. I was just thinking about the sunsets at the college I went to, and how it would’ve been cool to smoke there. Now I’m here, writing a random thing and making it about a fictional character that I’m in love with. Second Note: I'm home now and really want to publish this, so I'm forcing myself to finish it one way or another. I apologize if that makes it end up sucking, but I just need to get this finished or else it will sit in my drafts for eternity. I'm considering just posting what I have in my drafts even if they're unfinished because I have like, 80 drafts and I think at least 70 of them are actual pieces of writing and I feel selfish holding onto them bc some of them are not too bad. Most of them are from 2021, but that was when I was writing like a fiend and had a bunch of motivation, so they might not be terrible, probably a tad cringey though.

—

God, what you wouldn’t do to be smoking a cigarette right now…

Almost as if the universe heard you, the sliding door of the balcony swishes and shuts. Without needing to look, you know it’s Eddie—the sound of heavy bootsteps tipping you off.

“Mind if I join you?” He asks softly, just shy of mumbling. He mirrors you as he rests his elbows along the railing.

“Not at all,” you keep your head forward, too entranced by the flow of cars passing by on the streets below. “By any chance, do you have a pack of ciggies on you?”

Eddie can’t help but laugh.

“What kind of question is that?” His tone is lighthearted, but not energetic enough to disrupt the mood. It was a stupid question, Eddie was rarely ever seen without a cigarette between his lips.

He fishes a half-used box of Newports and a lighter out of his pocket. You turn to watch as he pulls two cigarettes out of the pack, putting both between his lips. You feel the corners of your mouth turn upwards as he brings the lighter closer, igniting your vices before handing one to you. You take the cigarette from between his index and middle fingers.

From the first inhale, you can feel the menthol working its magic. It wasn’t something you did often—smoking. You knew it was a nasty habit, but you figured if this was the worst thing you did tonight, you’d be okay with that.

“Do you ever miss Shores Hollow?” Eddie poses the question casually, but it still causes the nervous pit in your stomach to sink like a stone.

“All the time. Don’t get me wrong, I love it here,” you take another drag. “But nothing compares to those sunsets.”

It’s silent between the two of you as you finish your cigarettes, getting lost in the swirls of smoke that float around you. The logical part of your brain blames the cigarette for the uneasy feeling that starts to reside in your stomach and leaves pitter-pattering knocks on your temples, but the sentimental part of you wins and blames it on the man keeping you company.

You dare to look over at the culprit of your mixed feelings, his eyes fixated on the cloudy night sky. You want to say something, you want him to say something, but no words seem to fit in this moment. It’s like torture—having the one thing, the one person you want the most right in front of you, in addition to the weighted memories that come along for the ride, but it’s all just out of your grasp.

Your lips part, no ammunition loaded on your tongue. Eddie’s head turns rather quickly, as if he too was waiting for you to say something. He’s staring at you through windows of deep brown, like a wooded forest just before snowfall. You wish you knew what was making his mind turn, because the hopeless romantic in you looks into his eyes and reads

Tell me you want me the way I want you.

It’s too much of a risk to interpret a simple look in such a way. Maybe if you were a more confident person, you’d be willing to take that risk. But you’re not, and it seems neither is Eddie. He’s turning on his heel to leave, dropping his cigarette butt into the ashtray that sits near the folding chairs along the exterior wall. You realize this is the last time you’ll ever see him if you don’t do something, anything.

“Eddie,"

His name is all you can force yourself to say, but it’s enough. He turns around and something about the look in your eyes lets him know you need him to come back over, so he returns to his previous position, at your side, leaning over the railing.

Another minute of silence is shared between the two of you, and throughout its duration, your mind is plagued with the possible outcomes of all the different things you could utter to the patient man beside you. Just when you felt your brain was about to explode, you mentally scream fuck it and decide to express what you’ve wanted to for the past couple months.

"Please stay here."

It wasn't exactly what you were trying to convey, but it didn't fully matter. It seemed as though Eddie understood, or at least to the best of his ability--he wasn't a mind reader.

"I'm here." his voice was soft, reassuring.

He places his hand over top of yours, an unexpected gesture you welcomed fully--albeit flustered.

"I really need to get better at articulating my thoughts." you were thinking out loud, but it was something Eddie deserved to know as well.

"Is there any way I can help you with that?"

"Maybe."

Eddie looked down, taking both of your hands in his now, giving them a comforting squeeze.

"Is what's on your mind something recent, or is it a thought you've had for a while that you've been holding onto?"

"The second one."

"Okay, that's a start," the smile that graces his features burns your insides like a shot of whiskey. How was it even possible for one man to be so effortlessly attractive? "Is it something you specifically wanted to tell me?"

You nod.

"Well, that makes this a lot more interesting. And to think I almost went back inside!"

You smile sheepishly, thankful that there were no bright lights to illuminate the redness of your cheeks.

"Hmm. Is it something positive or negative?"

"Uh, I think that would be dependent upon you."

"Well shit, Y/N. At this point you've gotta just tell me."

"Fucking hell," you whine. "Fine. But you can't hold it against me."

"No promises."

"I think I'm falling for you."

"Oh."

Eddie's face is pale, but his expression isn't one you can decipher. He's still looking at you, and as much as you wanted to tear your eyes away, look anywhere else but in his beautiful brown eyes, you were frozen. It wouldn't matter if you ran inside, you uttered the words out loud and he heard them--there was no coming back from this.

"Yeah." It was all you could offer, too scared to make excuses for making things unbelievably awkward.

"How long?"

"Hmm?"

"How long have you been feeling this way?"

That wasn't the direction you expected the conversation to go, not that you expected the conversation to even continue.

"A month... or two."

Eddie's quiet. You realize you probably just freaked him the fuck out and he was most likely planning his escape route, despite his only options being to walk through a door or jump from a third story balcony.

"I'd say you're pretty lucky. I've been going on five months."

Huh?

"Huh?" Your confusion was the first thought you didn't worry about expressing the entire conversation.

"I've been thinking the same thing about you for five months."

"Really?"

"Mmhm." he nods. Eddie was hardly ever one to be shy--seeing him like this was cute.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Probably for the same reason you didn't."

Fair enough.

"Now what?" you asked, not sure what to do with your hands, your face, or any part of you.

"I'm not sure. We could just stay here and take in our surroundings, or we could go back to my place and make out-"

"That one. The second one."

"Someone's eager."

"You don't seem eager enough!"

"I've had a lot of time to learn how to be patient. Five months to be exact."

"You say that like it's my fault!"

"Maybe it is! It's not like I was being subtle, I flirted with you every chance I got! I figured you were just too scared to flat-out reject me."

"You flirted with me?"

"A million times!"

"You're joking."

"Dead serious."

"When?"

"Remember your birthday party?"

"Yeah...?"

"I literally told you that you looked sexy!"

"I figured that was just 'cause I was the birthday girl!"

"Then explain why I called you a few weeks ago and told you all about this girl I couldn't get off my mind, and literally just described you!"

"You were talking about me?"

"Oh my god, Y/N! Seriously?"

"Well unless you say it's me, I'm not going to assume you're talking about me!"

"Jesus Christ. Okay, what about the time I brought you flowers at work?"

"Those were from you?"

"Uh, yes. I literally handed them to you!"

"I figured you intercepted the delivery guy and that they were from my parents! My mom texted me earlier that day and asked me if I had decorated my apartment yet, so I just assumed that she sent me flowers so I'd have something to put on the kitchen table."

"Just my luck, honestly."

"Maybe you should've left a note."

"God damn it," Eddie slapped his forehead with his palm. "What about when your car broke down and we had to stop in that diner and the waitress told us we were such a cute couple and she gave us free coffee while we waited for the tow truck?"

"What about that?"

"We played along! I gave you a kiss on the cheek and everything! Friends don't do that, Y/N!"

"They do when a sweet old lady gives you free coffee and you don't want to break her heart!"

"Okay this is getting ridiculous. Clearly, we misread some things, but now we know we both feel the same way. You like me, I like you, right?"

"Right."

"So can I kiss you, on the lips?"

"Please."

Eddie took a swift step forward, his hands reaching and grabbing either side of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he brought his lips against yours. The kiss was passionate, fervent with all the emotions the two of you had been withholding from one another for far too long.

You separated after a moment, looking at one another with blown out pupils, blushed faces, and a newfound tenderness that cleared away any doubt that threatened to tear you apart.

--

sorry the second half of this lowkey sucks. I just kinda ran with it. Sorry again.

[wangxianficrecs]

Rewind 2024 - A few more recs...

WangxianFicRecs - Rewind 2024

Before the year ends, here are a few more recs of stories of 2024 that found their way into our inbox! I wish you all a Happy New Year and hope, that we can discover lots of fun fanfics next year as well! - Kay

Follower Recs

~*~

Think I've missed the 2024 Rewind follower recs but I've been absolutely loving this story!

WIP Modern Cultivators AU where WWX and LWJ have just agreed to a betrothal contract - for supposedly purely political reasons but in actuality because they fell hard and fast for each other during the prior fic in the series. POV switches between the two of them as they face up to (and increasingly embrace) the concept of being cared for and loved for being exactly who they are. Beautiful writing and brilliant characterisation, every update feels like a treat ☺️ @slothwithwifi

🔒 I'm Much Older Than I Thought I'd Be

by MajorEnglishEsquire (@chuckwinchester)

E, WIP, 81k, Wangxian

Summary: “Now. Before we break for the evening, as the topic has arisen between Lan Xichen and myself, directly, in accordance with an inquiry from the Lans,” Uncle passes him the copy of a draft agreement. “I wonder if you recall your lessons on the cross-clan arrangement of cultivation partnerships.” Picks up after The Further I Go, The Less I Know.

~*~

Hello! I want to submit this fic for Rewind because I love cherry magic AU and lwj pov is so rare. It’s very funny to listen to wwx pining in his head and lwj panicking over it. - Anon

My Heart is Yours to Fill or Burst

by anancites (@ananc1tes)

E, 67k, Wangxian

Summary: On his 30th birthday, Lan Zhan gets struck by a mysterious curse: suddenly he's a mind reader! As much as he dislikes most people talking too much, hearing their unfiltered thoughts is even worse. To top it all off, he learns that his old friend Wei Ying might not be flirting with him just to be a nuisance. He might be flirting with Lan Zhan because he's actually really into him? (a WangXian AU very loosely inspired by Cherry Magic)

~*~

Delightfully hilarious. I read it over a month ago and still laugh sometimes when I think about wwx in this. @alyseofwonderland

Living Art

by relenafanel (@relenafanel)

E, 8k, Wangxian

Summary: Broke artist Wei Wuxian takes a hard look at his finances and shrugs his way into becoming a content creator on OnlyFans. Jiang Cheng sighed. “These columns are negotiable. If you want to keep this subscription, you have to replace something to break even.” Wei Wuxian stared at the spreadsheet. He hummed in thought. “I need to break even.” “Yes.” “In order to keep my OnlyFans subscription I need $65 a month. On OnlyFans.” “No,” Jiang Cheng said quickly. “If I become a content creator and earn $65 a month--” “I am begging you--” “Then I can keep the subscription. Thanks A-Cheng!” The account in question? Hanguang Jun's Reading Livestreams.

~*~

🔒 Only with Time

by adrian_kres (@Bichen-Suibian)

E, WIP, 66k, Wangxian

Summary: Thirteen years ago, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were arranged to be married as is tradition. Throughout their thirteen-year-long "courtship," things were not always as they seemed. Now, newly married, old secrets have ripped open wounds they thought were closed, and they must work together to rebuild a trust they never had and a love they always did but couldn't see. Told from alternating points of view between LWJ and WWX with frequent flashbacks to memories of their "courtship". Updates weekly.

~*~

Proud Author Spotlight

~*~

I can't believe I almost forgot to shout-out my own fic that I started this year! It's a modern AU with cultivation where Wei Wuxian loses his hand, gets taken in my Wen Qing and her family, starts a prosthetic start-up and schemes to take down Wen Ruohan from the shadows feat. Wen Yuan having a big sister, Wen Zhuliu redemption and all the Found Family vibes!

Black Sun

by thelastdboy (@thelastdboyy)

E, WIP, 51k, Wangxian

Summary: Within one afternoon, the Yunmeng Jiang Clan became a mere branch of the Wen Clan. They lost their estate, all of their assets, and Wei Wuxian – He lost an arm. All to appease Wen Ruohan. To the Jiangs, the name Wen became a curse to be hissed out between gritted teeth. To Wei Wuxian, the name Wen became something dear after Wen Ning and Wen Qing saved his life and took him in. Years later, Wen Ruohan and his sons have long since died under mysterious circumstances and Wei Wuxian has been branded a traitor to the high society of the cultivation world. Together with the remaining Wens, he turned to the civilian world and revolutionized the medical field by developing prosthetics controlled by spiritual energy. Enter: Lan Wangji. After their fight against the Tulu Xuanwu, his leg never really recovered. Years of countless surgeries and feeling as if he was living inside a gilded cage while being patronized by his family passed, until Lan Wangji finally took his chance and absconded. To Yiling.

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)

[silkenwinger]

cherry

mdni. one sided enemies to lovers (?) konig x reader. 5k something

You wish he would just disappear. That some way or another, you could get him out of your hair. Sure, there’s always leaving your job, but that’s not really convenient, is it.

You wish he was outright antagonistic, mean or just an asshole. Someone who abuses his power over underlings. A self centered idiot who can only think with his dick, who gets other people in danger for his pride.

Yet he’s none of that, and you have to cope with it. Which you are unable to do.

“This fucking thing— ugh!” Snarls Roze, still trying to set up the new tent as shown in the diagram. It falls over with a soft thump and she kicks it again.

“These have to be the wrong instructions,” you tell her, turning around the leaflet. You’ve been at it for more than half an hour now, and they usually don’t take this long. Still, better the dryness of the desert to find out there’s been a manufacturing mishap than pouring rain. KorTac has deployed you here before, which is why you know you can’t just wing it and sleep outside. The night chill is unbearable.

“C’mon. Let me try,” says Horangi, holding out an arm. For all his male pride, he comes to the same conclusion as you and Roze. You’re collectively scratching your heads when a shadow falls over you.

“What is the issue?” König asks, hands on his hips and sun behind him, like some sort of Superman figure. Ugh.

“It’s not setting up.”

“Let me see.” He grabs the leaflet from Horangi’s hands, looks at it for fifteen long seconds, returns it to him and crouches down to pick at the tent. It’s odd, seeing such a big man working on something small. Comical, you’d say.

He sets it up in seven minutes (timed), but admits the instructions could be clearer and less misleading. He rises up and claps his hands on his thighs.

“I used to do a lot of camping, ah-ha,” he says, thumbing at his stupid hood.

“Well, thank you König. We would be sleeping outside without you,” says Roze.

“Yeah man, thanks,” Horangi adds.

You can feel his eyes on you. Those blue eyes, always in such weird expressions. Maybe you would read him more easily if he didn’t have the mask. You don’t care anyway. You muster a little smile so you don’t read as completely sociopathic to the whole group, and he seems happy enough. But you’re not satisfied with him being the hero of the night.

“Camping, uh? Wasn’t it hard, with your height and all?” It’s meant to be a jab to his clear struggles with his size. Something that only really shows outside of the battlefield, you have to admit.

“No, not really. Eh, my parents are tall as well, we would always buy big tents. With friends… a bit. I slept outside once.” His voice is shy revealing this. From previous conversations, you know he wasn’t the most sociable boy in his school. Neither were you but you didn’t end up wearing odd masks.

The normal reaction would be to commiserate him, coddle him for the harsh events of his youth. You’re incapable of that.

“Must have been a pretty clear cut decision from all the others.”

You can feel the side-eye from Roze and Horangi through your head.

“Ahah, yes it was… I was taking two whole spaces for myself…” he says, sounding a bit sad and lost in memories.

“That’s not going to happen now, this is pretty roomy,” interrupts Horangi, and your session of tormenting your team leader is abruptly brought to an end. Pity, but maybe it’s better to keep this a little more private.

“Dibs on the first watch!” Roze yells, and you groan. She always gets it before anyone else!

König, Horangi and you play rock scissor paper to decide the other turn. You lose first and you pout slightly: you hate second watch more than anything. Shaking it off, you start to head to the side, but you're stopped by an arm in front of you.

“We can switch. If you want,” says König, who got the third watch. You crook an eyebrow at him. Does he think you're unprofessional, that you can't even do your job? The fucking gall.

“No thanks. I don’t need handouts,” you turn your nose up. Horangi scoffs, which makes you turn to glare at him. König has no real reaction, just murmurs something between himself. This time you really leave.

Hour later, peaking your head out of the tent door, you shiver at the difference in temperature. You hate missions without safe houses…

“Ah, nice. Slept well?” Greets Roze when she sees you. You shake your head.

“More of a nap than a night’s rest,” you sigh as you turn to sit down next to her. You suppose she’s not really sleepy, but anyway, you enjoy her company.

“Hey,” she calls your name. You hum to show her you’re paying attention.

“You know I respect you. You’re a great fighter,” you preen at that, “but what is up with that?” Your face falls at that.

“What are you talking about?”

“You and König, c’mon. You’re bullying the guy! And I’m always in favor of mistreating men, but then he doesn’t fight back at all, and it’s just pathetic to watch. What even is the satisfaction in that?” She sounds genuinely baffled. Panic rises in you: you never actually thought you’d get cornered like this.

“He irks me, okay?” You try to justify yourself as you shift in your seat. You haven’t really interrogated much on why you feel this way. You figured it was just a normal reaction to König himself, and everyone was just better at hiding it.

“Irks you… yeah, he isn’t the smoothest guy or anything, but you’d think he was Satan the way you describe him. He really just fights, eats, sleeps and talks with you and Horangi.” She sits with that for a moment and just looks at you, really looks at you. “Maybe you’ve got something going on, I think he’s quite fond of you actually.”

“Fond of me… Roze, what the fuck are you going on about?” You exclaim, on edge. It’s far too late (or early?) to really express yourself in any way that makes sense. “He probably feels the same way I do about him, which is annoyance. He can’t be that thick not to realize I’m being antagonistic.”

“Hmm, if you say so.” She gets up and pats your shoulder, tiredness showing up in her limbs. “It’s not really my business. See you tomorrow,” she waves as she enters the tent, dismissively. It’s like she saw you being too defensive and thought you were a lost cause…

Your watch is uneventful and boring and cold and you can’t stop thinking about what Roze told you. Recounting your experiences with König, you think back to the first time you met. It stings to say it, but you’d felt intimidated, shaking the hand of a man almost feet taller than you, clad in an executioner hood. His hand was a bit cold and clammy, which was in contrast with his appearance. The way he shook your hand was unusual too. Men in the military are quick to establish dominance– the sadistic ones grip women’s hands so hard, it almost feels like they’re trying to strangle them. König’s handshake was delicate, and his eyes were oddly wide. Far from what imagination could conjure about his figure.

Starting from when you were put under his command, you’d seen König make an ass out of himself pretty often. Never on the battlefield– he was akin to a god on there, his strides decisive, his bullets accurate, and his violence lavish. For that alone you’d never send in a request to change teams: you know what you leave but you don’t know what you’re going to find. The issues with König lay in that creepy high pitched tone of voice he has sometimes while narrating stories, or the way he appears to have zero space awareness while moving around base. You witnessed him hitting his head or side on door frames far too many times for comfort. In some ways, it kinda killed the respect you could have for him as a leader. But then you’d watch him clear a room in a few bloody seconds, and you’d have to give it to him again. Unfortunately. But it’s now apparent that you can’t cling to any justification that will make sense to other people without you sounding completely out of your mind or like a bitch. Which you can be.

Checking your watch, it’s indeed time to go back to sleep. König hasn’t shown up by himself, the oaf, so you need to go wake him up. Ugh…

Crouching, you enter the tent. Horangi is still snoring away, thankfully not too loudly. You get on your knees to move more quietly and crawl your way to the horizontal column on the back. It’s hard to see well in the darkness, but König feels oddly still in his cot. You’d think he trashed around in his sleep like he does when awake.

Once you reach him, you touch his shoulder, murmuring his callsign not too loudly. No reaction. You do it again, this time a bit stronger, and he still doesn’t wake up beside grumbling some incomprehensible gibberish. Already irritated, you grab him by both shoulders and shake him alright. You realize you’ve made a mistake only when your arms are being coiled by something so tight you think your blood flow has stopped. Loud breathing can be heard in the closeness of the space– it is right in front of you.

“König,” you whisper, “it’s me. I’ve come to wake you up.” If there’s any fear in your voice you hope your disgust still dominates it.

“Scheiße– sorry,” he says, voice thick with sleep, and you think he blinks or starts to understand where you two are. You relax a bit in his hold, shifting on your folded legs, and he finally realizes he’s still holding you.

“I’m sorry, sorry. I was dreaming,” his hands brush the sides of your arms before releasing you, as if appeasing a dog he accidentally stepped on. You scowl. He finally starts to move and sits up, his torso an even darker mountain in the obscurity.

“Are you going to sleep here?” He asks, voice high pitched, you’d say almost nervous as you move closer and don’t retreat to the other side of the tent. Your scowl gets deeper.

“I’m already here and they’re all the same size,” you say, taking your place in the cot. It’s comfortably tepid, to your pleasure. “It’s warm, too. You can sleep on mine when you’re done.” Considering the affair over, you bring the cover over your body and settle down. It smells a bit like him.

König is still crouching next to you: other than his breath, you can tell he’s there by the noise of his nails scratching up and down on his pants. Still not hearing him move, you raise your head.

“Aren’t you going outside?” Your tone could be meaner and more acidic, but drowsiness softens you, too.

“Yes… I’m going…” He sounds uncharacteristically reluctant, like he wants to oppose but knows he can’t. What, is watch duty too common for your team leader? You tut and turn over, and finally you hear him put his gloves on and walk outside.

You wake up to the sound of people speaking some hours after. Sighing, you get up, stretching away the ache from basically sleeping on the ground. It takes you a second to understand you’re not in your own bed and you’re in König’s instead. Getting up, you grab your utilities from your bed and exit the tent. In the makeshift camp, you see Roze and Horangi chattering away with instant coffee cups, and König working on his rifle. Roze sends you a charged look, to which you reply with a confused expression.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. That your new callsign?” She pokes at you, laughing.

You groan and walk over the coffee pot.

“Why didn't you wake me up?”

She shrugs, turning over in her thermal jacket. “We don’t have to be there before oh nine hundred. You can sleep on company time,” she finishes her coffee, throws the cup away and enters the tent again to dress up. You bite your lower lip and pour some for yourself, casually glancing over your male teammates. Horangi is just hovering, no doubt done with his preparations since he’s been awake for longer. König is still cleaning his rifle, and he hasn’t spared you a glance. You decide to fix that.

“You want to clean it so hard you can look at yourself during fights?” Snickering, you come up behind him. König slightly jumps, his hands clutching the rifle hard in order for it not to fall.

“Ahah, it was a bit filthy from yesterday. But now it’s clean,” he puts it down gently and carefully, always careful around guns. You look at him from behind your coffee cup. As always, it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling with the mask in the way, but he’s being particularly evasive today. To the point he hasn’t even looked you in the eye yet. Still, he turns to face you.

“What’s up with you today?” You ask him. You’re used to seeing him a little less down. If he isn’t feeling well, it could turn massively bad for all involved.

“Nothing. I hope the mission goes well.” He sounds more sure now. You shrug. His body moves as he stands up, and as always it unsettles you. But you refuse to address whatever that means, so you reply nonchalantly, “It seems pretty straightforward.”

“Ja…” He shuffles over his feet. You lean a bit over, wondering if he has anything else to say. He doesn’t, but he finally looks you in the eye: you keep looking at each other until Horangi speaks out of the blue and says it’s time to move. You turn abruptly and go join Roze in the tent.

It could have been over in a second. The building you were meant to go in, or what remains of it, has been reduced to a pile of burning debris, explosives turning it outside down. And you would have been none the wiser as it’d turn your guts out, too.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, and Horangi next to you urges you to move along, to follow König. König, who was the one to actively tell you and Horangi to not split from his command. You’d cringed, but followed him anyway, unkeen to disobey, and Horangi always listens to König anyway. And now you were alive because of a decision König made. Again.

Another successful assignment from KorTac. Please feel free to contact us again for any inquiry.

Looking outside the helo, you observe the silent dunes you’ve just left.

This always happens, you reason. Someone has a hunch. Another got a call from his grandma telling him not to go. You dream of a different path from the one that you’re supposed to take.

Why is König so good at this? It’s good that he’s good at this. You’d be missing your limbs otherwise. He sits across from you, knees brushing with yours. His eyes are glazed over, drowsy, hands folded together. An innocent visage, if one discards the blood over his clothes.

Ire crashes over you like waves. This fumbling man, almost stuck eternally in his adolescent, awkward state, is fucking great at his job. Far better than you could ever hope to be. Not only is he genetically built for hard conditions, but he’s also gifted with a natural sense for the battlefield and military tactics.

You’ve been thinking about him far too much lately. Looking at his back, at his incredibly toned legs. Torn between the long lasting distaste you’ve had for him and… whatever admiration you begrudgingly hold for him.

A light turns on in your mind.

That makes sense.

The Hungarian base is one of KorTac’s smallest. It’s usually bare from anything but the basic necessaries, and it has very few permanent workers. It’s the same case this time. The four of you and the pilot walk in a ghost town. One worker greets you like he had no idea you were even supposed to land there. They need to stop firing communication people in this company.

“König,” you muster a sweet tone, fighting the bile that comes up in your throat. König turns from walking with the others to face you, immediately alert.

“Can we go… somewhere private?” He freezes for a second, and then nods, eyes a bit wary. Fine. You honestly thought he’d be more hesitant. Maybe Roze does have a point.

You walk for a bit side to side and then open a random room in the corridor, furnished with just a long table and a number of chairs not appropriate for its length. You close the door and stand there, deciding you’re not going to sit. Yet?

Fuck, you don’t actually know how to go about this.

“So,” you start, “how do you think we’ve been getting along?” You ask, trying to test the waters.

“Ehm. Pretty good, I’d say,” he replies, accent thicker than usual. Your doe-like expression immediately changes to a skeptic one. You tilt your head, calculating.

“You don’t think I treat you a bit differently than the rest of our teammates?”

He looks around, like he knows this question is a trap. You’d be more annoyed if it wasn’t so fun to have him all for yourself to tease.

“I think we are friends… you get along more with Roze, but still…” He fidgets at his missing belt loop. Ah, goddamn, that’s another stupid thing about him, why can’t he put a belt on properly?

“Friends? We are friends to you?” You ask, tone clearly disbelieving.

“Yes… are we not…?” König’s voice is a whisper now, insecurity leaking over and filling the whole room. Oh Jesus. Now you really feel like a middle school bully.

“I think… that I kind of have a problem with you, König…” You tell him, weirdly meek. There’s no other way to go about it. You wish he had the same mixed feelings you obviously hold for him, but instead his are tragically simple and gentle minded… What a contrast from the cold, calculating man that saved your life this morning.

“What problem?”

“Nothing really… it’s just that you distract me… a little too much.”

“Distract you like how? Is it something I do?”

“Yes, but you can’t change anyway,” you confess. And, deep inside you, you don’t want him to change. Part of the reason you can’t stand König, after all, is how he embodies some part of you— the one not carefully curated to be as badass and hardhearted as possible, but one that instead just is, even if it’s uncool. You’ve desperately tried to hide it all this time, convinced it could only hinder you in your career– and then König shows up, and not only is he one of the best soldiers you’ve met in your life, but he’s also unapologetically himself all the time. And it doesn’t stop him from achieving anything.

This plan is stupid anyway. König doesn’t seem to be the man who agrees to casual sex. Hell, sometimes it doesn’t seem like he’s even aware of the concept.

“Maybe I’m the one that has to change teams… If we just can’t find a solution to this problem of mine…” This is bait: you could be more explicit, but maybe you really do need to change teams. You can’t be consumed by thoughts of your team leader, it’s just embarrassing. This sexual attraction (but also resentment) you hold for König can’t have you zone out in an active combat zone.

“No!” He says, voice loud and clear, his tone filled with panic. “Please… I…”

“You what?”

“I… I like you.” He confesses, eyes low. His hands are trembling a little.

Five seconds pass before you elaborate a reply to that.

“König, I treat you like shit!” The exclamation probably surprises you more than it does him.

“S-So?” He pants, what little of eyebrows you can see low, pupils dilated only a slight blue circle remains of his irids.

“So? How low is your confidence to like me when I insult you all the time?” You hiss, mere centimeters away from his face. How bad have his relationships with people been so far if he considers you a person worth liking?

You lower your eyes and see that his knees are bent in order to be closer to your height. If your mind wasn’t already made up, this would be the turning point. He follows your gaze down his body with his eyes and whimpers when your eyes lock on his bulge. Your little stress problem is going to get solved alright.

“You like me? Alright. We can go there, if you want. But remember, this is for me and my problem. Got it?” You point at his chest and he nods frantically at that, like he can’t believe this is really happening.

“Fine then. Take off your clothes.” You order, taking a step back and leaning your back on the absurdly long table. You’d make him remove his mask, but that feels like an additional step in intimacy you’re not sure you can ask of a man you claim to hate to the majority of people you know. And, most of all, you can’t force him. You’re out of bitterness for the day. It doesn’t mean that you’ll make it easy for him, though.

König clutches at his pants, taking one long leg out and then the other, remaining in his standard boxers, erection barely hidden behind them. He then moves to his jacket, which he drops to the ground, and then his compression shirt– his pecs are reddened by the blush you’re sure covers his whole neck and face. Your hand points down, and König immediately drops to the ground, so you can beckon him over with a slight gesture. He crawls over to you, stopping right in front of your booted feet.

You deeply enjoy ordering him around, so why stop now.

“Unhook my pants,” you tell him, “but don’t remove my panties yet.” He nods and brings his trembling hands to your belt, undoing it faster than expected, to then lower your pants to your ankles so he can move more comfortably between your legs.

“König,” you call out his name.

“Hmm?” he purrs, barely taking away his eyes from your clothed pussy. You think he’s been getting progressively closer.

“What are we going to do… with your mask?”

“Don’t worry,” he raises a thumbs up, like a huge fucking loser that you’re somehow attracted to, “I can manage.”

“Well then, manager,” you snark, irritated once again, “proceed. Eat me out.” He takes one hand off your leg to uncover his lower face– you only see a flash of it before it is hidden to you again.

He digs in, at first sniffing you, and then licking you through the cotton of your underwear. The warmth of his body is scorching in the chill air of the unused room. His tongue diligently brushes against your clit and slit until your gusset is soaked, and only then he moves them to the side to make direct contact with your pussy. You hiss as your elbow falls down on the table, your legs now spread open even further as he sucks on your clit. Apparently he does know what sex is.

“Can I use my fingers? Please?” He looks up, hood now covering him completely again.

“Hm… let me think on it…” you pretend to really ponder on it, and you see his eyes get bigger and wetter.

“Please!” he begs again.

“Alright, go ahead big guy,” you decide to throw in a compliment for his begging. After all, he’s being quite good. So much for the strict dominance.

His finger penetrates your entrance slowly at first, maybe afraid of going too fast. He takes his sweet time exploring, seeing which movements or spots really make you welp.

“Don’t get distracted now,” you tell him, kicking him lightly on his back with your heel. This is about you, not his curiosity. He straightens his back and starts licking you again, eager and enthusiastic. To think you’ve been just boiling over in your anger when you could have made good use of him.

You can feel your climax readily rising up, spurred by König’s slobbering care. Your hand reaches to keep him closer to you, and you think you can almost feel his hair under the hood. Longer than you expected. The mounting sensation and heat comes to a high and you come, strangled moan and head thrown on the table. König keeps licking and fingering you until you forcibly tear him apart from your pussy.

After the momentary bliss, there’s a moment there when you think about what you’re doing. If this is simply about getting off, the encounter can end here, even though you could be more satisfied. You’re not sure it’s only about that, though. König is panting in front of you when you raise your head, calm besides his breathing. You look at the sheer size of him, and think of his selflessness and his patience dealing with you. And then you look down at the stain of precum on his briefs and go what the hell, sure.

“Can I touch you?” You ask him, but before you can even finish the question he’s already saying yes yes yes.

Your hand brushes his bulge and he jolts, toes high. You scoff a little, entertained by his always so vivid reactions. When you take his impressive cock out, you give it an experimental jerk and see him jump even higher.

“God, König, keep it together, will you now?” You laugh derisively at him, to which he just grumbles a bit sadly.

“What do you want, huh? Want me to jerk you off? Want to fuck me?” You ask teasingly, getting even closer to his masked face and stroking his cock. Once again, he just mumbles. The still unresolved irritation rears its ugly head, and after squeezing his head until he yelps you let go of him.

“I’m not going to do anything if you don’t tell me. I’ve had it with your mumbling,” you snarl and cross your arms. König’s entire body animates and tightens at his panic, and his arms leave his sides to tentatively reach out to you.

“Y-You can do whatever you want to me.”

“Pathetic answer. Pick something, or I’m getting out of here and leaving you hard and leaking.” He finishes reaching out then, and grabs your hips softly, almost as if afraid of hurting you. One of your legs snakes around his.

“I want…” He starts, unsure and twitchy.

“You want?” You encourage him, squeezing his arm not so gently.

“... to fuck you.” He whispers, ashamed. You laugh in his face. He must come from a different planet, a different universe altogether. How can a man of his size be so submissive? It feels like an impossible combination, but you’re not complaining.

“Go ahead, then,” you tell him sweetly, and he nods only once this time, decisive. He grabs his dick then and reaches your entrance. Both of you are so soaked it’s almost effortless: his cock fills you and more, to the point the last inch of him takes more time and care. But you can almost feel him in your guts due to his length. König groans when settles inside you, and moves his arms to hold you in a lover’s embrace. You can feel his ragged breath next to your ear. A bit baffled, you move your arms to hold him too. The smell you inhale is the same you felt last night, so utterly him.

“Alright?” You whisper next to his ear, the soft brush of his hood on your cheek.

“Perfect… so hot…” he replies, squeezing you even harder. You sputter a bit at that, not expecting it, but squeeze back.

“You can start moving now.”

His first thrusts are uncertain and slow. You caress his mighty back to encourage him, and then your hand goes lower and you grab a handful of that ass. He gasps and you laugh again.

“You’re so big,” you tell him, “I don’t know how you even fit in me.” He straight up moans then, and drives so hard in you he almost knocks the wind out of you. Feeling him get more desperate, you sneak a hand between you to brush at your clit, helping yourself get there. König rushes when he feels you get tighter, and you have to hush him to calm him down.

“Just a bit more,” you tell him, “resist a bit more.” He just heaves as an answer.

He keeps a good pace, not too slow or too rushed, but when he starts jamming a little you know he’s close. He calls out your name, tone worried.

“I’m about to…” You grab him by the neck then, at least what you can hold, and he stills, in what is no doubt a great exercise of restraint. The torture could go on for longer, but all things considered he’s endured enough from you. Somewhere along the way this has stopped being about you and your problem, and has begun to be his as well.

“Let’s do it together,” you just whisper as you let go of him, hand going back to touch yourself. He mewls, this big puppy of a man, and you moan when his cock hits that special spot inside you. You come again, locking your legs around his waist, and he stutters and groans as he releases inside you, nosing at your neck. You swear you can feel his cum spilling out.

The two of you lay there for a moment, or two, or three. König’s face is still hidden in your neck, his back no doubt uncomfortable. He mouths something against your neck you don’t know how to decipher. Slowly, and reluctantly, you push at his shoulders. He rises then, and you immediately miss his heat and the feel of his body caging you in. Worst of all is when he takes his cock out of you– the gaping feeling is unbearable, coldness of the air hitting directly your tender core. König is looking at you like he doesn’t know what to do, which is exactly the case. You’re not so sure yourself. It’s the first time you sleep with a coworker you have a complicated relationship with.

“There’s the debrief…” you tell him, unconvinced. He knocks his head up, like you just reminded him, woken him from a spell.

You put your pants back on while König redresses. Looking at him, as those big muscles move and flex, you feel your desire for him rise again, but you’ve been gone for long enough. Roze and Horangi will already be suspicious.

Before you exit the room, you grab König by the arm. He takes a step closer to you, and you flex a bit on your toes to look at him in the eyes better. Moving your hand, you tenderly touch his face. He closes his eyes.

“König… you can’t let yourself be bullied all the time,” you brush his cheek through the mask and he leans on your hand.

“But I like when you tease me,” he says, head bowed. You giggle a bit at that.

“Then only I can do it, okay?”

He nods. You swear you can feel his smile through the cheap cotton of his mask.

[fsnotes]

“If I skated for the sake of winning, I would do it differently”

On December 29th a morning radio programme Dome Square on Latvijas Radio 4 broadcasted an interview with Deniss (in Russian). They discussed figure skating in Latvia, plans for the future, ways to deal with tiredness and avoiding the burnout, and of course dived into personal and sports philosophy. There are also some New Year wishes to the listeners!

Full recording available here.

Translation into English below the cut.

In December Deniss Vasiljevs became a seven-time champion of Latvia. ‘If I skated for the sake of winning, I would do it differently’, says the athlete about his performances in an interview with my colleague Natalya Meshcheriakova for “Dome Square”. The talented athlete spoke about his rules of life, summarised the results of the past year, set goals for the future, and also shared how he prefers to recuperate.

DV: I really enjoy coming back to Latvia. When I see all the younger generations, it makes me very happy, and in its own way it motivates me to keep skating and to keep, in fact, skating for them too. And to come to Latvia… There are not so many competitions in December, and to skate at your home ice rink, to do a full competition and try new elements is always very, very nice and very important for figure skating in the country. And I have always been motivated to do something useful for society (Deniss used the English word here, then translated himself). So it is a great pleasure for me to be here.

NM: The languages are getting confused, aren't they? What's that about, is it because you spend most time outside of Latvia?

DV: I speak English practically all the time; also French, and I learnt Latvian, and I speak mostly Russian with my parents, so I have a little bit much [of the languages]. Even German manages to get in. Anyway, I'm still readjusting. I need a couple of days to fully come back and think in the language I speak.

NM: But you are in Latvia for a smaller part of the time. If you take a year, how much time do you spend here?

DV: This year, so far, I have only spent two days in Latvia.

NM: And where are you mostly based then?

DV: Now I'm in Switzerland, in Champéry, but I'm travelling a lot because of figure skating competitions, basically flying around the world. I've flown round the planet at least three times this year.

NM: Three times... Yes, I understand that there are competitions, there is a goal, motivation, but how do you fight fatigue? It probably requires a huge amount of, well, physical strength, and some special approach. How do you avoid the burn out?

DV: We have two opportunities to rest during a season; sometimes three. There are Christmas holidays, or New Year's Eve. These are very social ones. Then in the end of the season — somewhere in May — we get a real vacation, but usually it isn't longer than two weeks. And there's one just before the start of the season, two or three days, because the heavy summer preparation ends and seasonal work begins.

In a way, you get used to it. It's indeed very difficult when you can't sleep, when you have time zone changes all the time. Say, this year: I got a Grand Prix event in the US and another one in China. I went to China to compete for a week, came back for a week; went to America for a week, came back for a week to go somewhere else to compete again; spent a week again, and came back to China for a week; then came back to train for a week, and the next week I had to be [in Riga]. All this travelling, ice sessions, flying and training, it's hard enough. When it's not your first year like this, you adapt in your own way, but it's always very hard on the body. Just like now, when we're halfway through the season and you feel like you're already kind of a squeezed lemon.

NM: And how do you regain your strength? What helps you? What gives you that full-fledged rest, when you have it, yes, you said, in May, in December?

DV: Mostly I barricade myself in my room (laughs). Nothing but sleeping helps. So, my version of rest is mostly finding a quiet place and sleeping. Yet music is mostly used for work. I tend to relax, maybe, listening to classical music in the evening, or jazz, but…

NM: Probably with classical music you already imagine, like, how you would skate to this tune. It's a professional deformation already.

DV: Yeah, yeah, that's exactly what it is. At one point, especially a couple of years ago, everything I did was about figure skating. Completely. Listening to music, watching ballet, doesn't matter no matter. I was watching the body movements and imagining how it's all going to look like, which is a little bit…. It makes you go crazy. To me, studying helped a lot.

NM: What do you mean exactly?

DV: I completed my Masters this year. It really helped me to... get out of figure skating? To just study and then come back to train and work.

NM: Where did you study, and how?

DV: In Latvia, at Daugavpils Universitāte. I got a lot of help with timing there, so I was able to study relatively freely in general. It helped a lot to not go crazy with sports. But in general everyone survives in their own way. My option is to always be interested in what's going on around me; learning something, trying to do something. Drawing.

NM: In the context of the year, how do you evaluate yourself? We know about your achievements, successes. Were these the goals you set for yourself?

DV: I've been skating for quite a few years now, and I have my own opinion of the system which is perhaps different from how many people understand it. So I chose my aspiration a long time ago: to try to compete with myself only. If I skated to win, I would do it differently. I skate because I enjoy it and because I'm as supportive as my coach is of being... a little old school. It's all about charisma, beauty, performance. Sport is a culture in its own way, rather than just athletics on ice. That's why the attitude is different in many ways: how we create the program, how we do everything. We stick to certain foundations, you could say, a certain quality, and we are very proud that we do it with virtue (Deniss used the English word again, translating himself right after).

NM: Seems like this approach is justified. Your awards prove it's the right bet.

DV: Sport is so much more than any award. Sport is a way of life, it's a... path of excellence (the English phrase in original). You have to do it the right way. You have to be honest, you have to really live according to those views; they are not for the sake of results, they are much more than that. And they create a better society. You support society through actually living with these... I don't know, values (the English word again). It's a way of living, and in its own way it requires you to be a leader of your own self.

NM: Does your coach help you with that, or are you just that kind of person on your own?

DV: It's certainly cultivated at first. It's how we teach the kids. Current figure skating is too much like... you take a board, sand it down and make it into a stool ("taburetka" in original). That's not how sport was intended to be. Sport is when you plant a seed and you keep watering it, create sunny conditions, and it grows. That's why you create a greenhouse — so that the seed grows better.

The idea is that you develop yourself. You can be clumsy, you can be gawky, but you do it yourself. You create your own character from the way you understand and explore the world. It's not that you've been grown and made, it's that you've grown yourself. And the help was in telling you: there's a jungle over there, go cut through it. Not just telling you that there is a road over there, take it and follow it, and let everyone rush and stand in traffic. That's why sport is self-exploration, a kind of self-awareness. Freedom to develop yourself. A never-ending road. So being an athlete is more than just doing your sport. And to be a good athlete, you have to develop yourself in so many ways. Figure skating is one of the best options, because you have not only athletics, but also choreography, dancing, theatre art. You need to bring a whole idea of a program to life... And don't get me started on costumes!

NM: But not everyone can probably take it. Too many things at once.

DV: It takes a lot of discipline, which you choose yourself very early on. Someone has to give you a push, but the choice is your own. A lot of kids probably can't make their own choice: you have to know what discipline is, and then you also have to know what you want. I don't even know how to do it right, but so many get off the tracks right at this point.

So I've seen what, four shifts already? I've been to two Olympics. It's been eight... nine years in seniors, and that's quite a long road. But there's no perfect way; you find your own. I don't aim to rack up maximum points or run the maximum time or do the perfect technique. I look at it more generally [broader]. I must be magnetic in my own way; express the idea of striving for perfection, and honour the fact that one can't achieve perfection.

But you should always strive to do your best in whatever you do; it doesn't matter if it's sports, studies, whatever. You've got to build character. And it will epitomise what you do later on. In sports, on the ice, off the ice, everywhere.

NM: Based on that, what are your plans for next year? Are you setting any goals?

DV: For now, I'm just aiming to... Every day it's pretty hard for me to keep myself in control, especially when I'm tired, and I just want to qualify for the Olympics and give my best. I have plans that I don't want to announce yet because they still, well, need to be done, and there's definitely science (the English word followed by self-translation), scientific evidence as to why it shouldn't be done. At least I really want to qualify and go to the Olympics for the third time. To really showcase the Latvian culture of sport!

Sport is much more than what we see on the ice during the four minutes of skating. It is, after all, the way training happens; the way we live; in general, everything we do epitomises a whole different world. In its own way. One illustration would be, for example, if you make coffee, you work on it so intensely that it ends up being some of the best coffee you'll ever drink. A lot of people probably don't question how you can make it better, better, better, better. But if you watch athletes who do strive for something greater, they usually can't separate an ordinary commitment from the sports one. Such aspiration for perfectionism is the lot of athletes.

NM: And your wishes, for the people of Latvia, for the listeners? The next year is about to come...

DV: It is possible to start life every day. Basically... this will probably sound silly, but one of the philosophies is that when you live, you need to die every morning. Every day is the last day. That's the only way you can make the most of it.

I guess my wishes are these: move and aspire every day. Aspire to do a little bit better, and to do a little bit easier, because easier is better! Aspire to live in motion; direct life towards something.

[docholligay]

HLF: how do i check for cold (or hot, i guess) spots in my oven? is there a tool or do you just have to sacrifice some cookies to the fire?

I TAKE NO CREDIT FOR THIS. I READ THIS ARTICLE ON KING ARTHUR BAKING. THEY ARE AN EXCELLENT FUCKING RESOURCE FOR EVERYTHING AND ALSO EMPLOYEE OWNED BUY THINGS FROM THEM.

The toast test! Once I learned about this, i was so fucking mad that I didn't think about it myself--all you need to do is sacrifice a loaf of bread.

Ovens are stupid. They are giant boxes of metal that get hot. And if you have a gas oven, they are even worse--the heat doesn't even COME IN equally, ever. So normally, in an electric oven at least, the outside edges of your oven get hotter than the center. You can use this to your advantage: I cook something that needs top browning on a rack set closer to the top, pies closer to the bottom, and for pizza, when I want to make a REALLY GOOD pizza, like if I have guests and I want them to think I'm the most special girl, I set one rack on top, one of bottom, cook it on the bottom for a crisp crust and then hit it with the broiler on top for like two minutes and boom holy fuck i am a god.

ANYWAY, to answer your actual question.

You buy a loaf of shitty bread--I got a 99 cent loaf from the day-old section--preheat your oven to 350F/180C* and then you arrange it around your oven. Like so. Or, if you're like me, you used the whole loaf, but I didn't want to buy a loaf just to take a picture of something I've already done, so I stole this one from KAF (I love you guys!)

then you bake until the center pieces are gorgeous, a medium golden brown. Then you'll know, if that's what happens in the ideal placement, what is going to happen in less-ideal placements.

I re-ran the test preheating my oven with convection and then cooking on normal, it had more even heating. I don't necessarily recommend this unless you like to sometimes get nuts.

*ALSO BUY AN OVEN THERMOMETER. Your preheating sensor is more than likely lying to you. You can get cheapass ones but right now the Thermoworks smoke is 50 GODDAMN PERCENT OFF because they are on America's Test Kitchen 5 days of deals. They say it's for barbecue but the clip works the same in a smoker or an oven. And also it comes with a meat probe! So, double duty. (I make nothing from Thermoworks I wish they would send me free product for all I promote them *big eyes at Thermoworks guy)

[lagerloutfic]

a tough as balls year for little old me, but as the old proverb goes, no matter the horrors there is always ao3 in bed. writing and reading.

doubled down on my love for hockey and feel like i understood the game better, imbued more of the narratives, and discovered more players to be stupid about.

stopped trying to fight being an f1 girlie and threw myself in head first. what a gorge little community of freaks (affectionate) who like to watch the zoom zoom.

here are some things i wrote. not sure if i love them all, but they were all glorious distractions and so i'm hopelessly fond. not a single word could have happened without @crunchycrispy, the eternal muse.

hockey stuff

🐶 got that dog in him | E | 7.1k | the connor mcdog fic haha...oh boy. the good news is i am not alone in thinking how much connor looks like bowie and the bad news is, we're all going to hell. despite living in fear someone is going to cancel me for bestiality, i loved writing connor/bowie pov and imagining my life as a pampered little pooch, beloved by all. on my wishlist for 2025, tbh.

💦 warm ride | E | 2.3k & wrap me round your wedding ring | E | 6.8k | William Nylander/John Tavares | eurosleaze 4 DILF captain shame writing willy is a true joy, thoroughly recommend everyone have a turn. this was darker that i usually go because i don't like to hurt my own feelings but i'm happy with how wet and pathetic JT turned out and the whole structure of part 2. 😈 love drunk off this hump | E | 8k | Frederik Andersen/Auston Matthews | the gang's all here and they are fucking idiots this might have been the most fun thing i wrote this year? just good vibes, silly times, a thrilling ensemble of dickheads being stupid hockey bros. everyone should jerk off with the homies, the thesis.

🥛 no use crying | E | 38.6K | Brock Boeser/William Nylander | milk bar fic sex-worker AU ummmm, look. i just wanted to write boys with big milk jugs. do these fellas know each other? no. does the world make sense? nah. did i have a fun time, YES.

🦷 different kind of buzz | E | 3.5k | Macklin Celebrini/Will Smith | | pain, teeth & horny 4 hockey | those fucking rookies, goddamn actually can't believe we are witnessing the birth of a new pairing right under our noses, but it's happening. we are living in the historical moment! thank you to all the sickos who are writing willmack, posting the content, thinking the thoughts. the real MVP of this season, along with @fast-burn for making it spesh.

🏒 let's call this the playoff hockey coping strategy collection 🏒

absolutely bonkers time where i dealt with playoff hockey through fanfiction. actually do not remember half of these, so that's cool.

say it, say it again | E | 4.1k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | soft dick fic.

but close ain't close enough | E | 6.3k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | get your captain pregnant with help from your girl

go ahead and try a little crazy on me | E | 4k & don't you even try and explain | e | 12.1k | Leon Draisaitl/Arturs Silovs | winner's room goalie fucking | whomst among us was not enchanted by arty during that series? probably the most enjoyable voice to write, i do really want to write a part three where everyone gets freaky in spain so someone bully me until i do it.

better put that business to bed | E | 2.8k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | voice kink

just the touch of your hand | E | 3.4k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | McDepression and spanking

if i could make a wish | E | 2.8k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | omg, MORE McDrepression?? Get a new theme, girl!

i'm gonna tell you right now, they're all i'm thinkin' about | E | 7k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | you are never gonna believe there's a THIRD McDepression fic out there by moi. This time with a cute outfit!

🏎️ f1 stuff 🏎️

👀 unsafe release | E | 18.2k | Alex Albon/George Russell | when that childhood friend becomes hot and weird and scary it's your girls first f1 fic! started life as a quinn/petey fic lol okay who is she? this was HARD to write. new fandoms are tricky, there's so much to learn. but good to be sobbing into the google doc at a million am, it builds character etc etc

🌪️ a lasting advantage | E | 18.7k | Alex Albon/George Russell | okay but actually i wasn't done with these bitches more of the same, but with extra mental breakdowns and lashings of shame! buttsex, finally, and a beloved OC.

💬 hot rookie slagsss | M | 5.7k | Alex Albon/George Russell/Lando Norris | horndogs in the groupchat i just wanted to write something with dialogue so i didn't have to bother with all the bits in between and text is so fun for that. so fun to thrash this out with @latecomersprivilege and @ctimenefic. it takes a village, y'all.

flippin' hell. when it's all laid out like that it's really something. what's next? i literally have no idea! how fun! thanks to anyone who interacted with me this year, the likes and comments and stupidity keep the motor running. open mouthed kisses for all xx

[thescarletnargacuga]

This blog has changed my life

No exaggeration. No hyperbole.

Back in May, I was lonely and working myself to death. Work. Sleep. Work. Sleep. No time for anything else. I didn't really want anything else.

Then the internet exploded about this little indie show I never heard of. Apparently, they had just released their second episode and it was a big deal. Everyone was going nuts.

I had nothing better to do, so I watched it. Then I watched the first episode. Then I dove head first into the fanart here on Tumblr. Then... I felt something I hadn't felt in a very long time.

The urge to write.

When I started posting my fanfictions here, I had not written anything to this degree in over a decade. I didn't think anything I'd post would be any good. I was just trying to have fun in my own little corner of the internet.

Through this blog, I've made real friends. Met some of the most creative and wonderful people. I've found love, platonic and romantic. I've truly reevaluated my own priorities. I've rediscovered an old passion that I thought long dead.

Part of the reason I was so quiet this month was due to a lot of heavy introspection. I thought I had hit a wall or burned out...

No, I had simply discovered that my motivation for writing has changed. I no longer write because I am lonely. I write because I am happy. I write to express. I write to create. I write because I can visit worlds beyond my own within my mind and I wish to share them with you. My mind's theater is a grand stage and I am more than happy to give you all a show. It makes me happy.

You've made me happy. You read my work. You left a comment. You left a like. Maybe you say hi in the Showtime server. Maybe you're a close friend.

@gooseworx on the off chance that you read this, Thank you. Your show literally changed my life. Thank you for giving us such engaging characters to tell stories with.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for reading. May 2025 be just as creative!

Happy New Year! 🎉🍾

Scarlet