#flexing that i only had to get help on one of them because i cannot nuke for the life of me

[welcometoteyvat]

new natlan local legend achievement series (duelist) is such a nice namecard but holy hell those local legends are no joke (fun challenge that you can't get in the overworld but ive legit ran out of fried eggs hello)

conclusion of my namecard grinding is that i NEED to crown baizhu. man has been working overtime tanking hits and being able to attack from a distance (semi automatic afk team (baizhu, em raiden, furina, and nahida) i love you)

[lovelywritinglady]

For our little writers' Art Trade...! Gyomei has no idea how much his small Fem!Reader lover enjoys seeing her beloved show his strength like he does during the Training Arc... Honestly, it's a HUGE turn-on to see him move a boulder with ease or stand in the middle of flames while balancing heavy weights over his back... Or see him hugging kitties. Sadly, Reader is weak and can only help train Demon Slayers by feeding them, much like Tengen's wives do. She is kinda motherly and that in return turns Gyomei on SO HARD. Where she is weak, he is strong, and vice versa. Maybe some smut? Maybe they sneak out to take out the NEED they lit in each other? I would be eternally thankful!

I shall do my best!!

Strength and Weakness

Gyomei Himejima x Fem!reader

In which you and your strong lover cannot contain the burning love for each other even in important times.

Fluff, SMUT, size kink, praise, outside sex, desperation sex, maybe out of character Gyomei.

It’s been nearly four weeks since the training with the Hashiras began. You had been working with your husband, Gyomei, to wip these young demon slayers into shape. However, most of them have yet to show true promise and the few who you think could are still training with the other Hashira. Knowing that the only reason that they are even going through such rigorous training is because of Muzan. The mere thought of Muzan would make anyone here shiver with either anticipation for a fight or pure fear.

Today marked the third day that this batch of young demon slayers were attempting to push the massive boulder that your husband had told them to move. It’s size was impressive to say the least but to your husband it was child’s play. He was strong and was considered the strongest Hashira around.

You could definitely attest to that as through out your relationship with the strong man, you had seen him push boulders nearly five times the one that he’s making these young demon slayers push, and for much longer. He was truly an impressive man and you knew that you had been blessed to have him as yours and only yours. However, it’s had been nearly four weeks since your husband last touched you.

Four weeks since you had felt his strong arms around your body in glorious passion. You were beginning to get antsy and it didn’t help when you saw his strong arms and ripped muscles flex as he pushed boulders or showed how to say his mantra at the waterfall training area. Your body flowed with desire for him and you could tell he felt the same. Seeing him being so soft and kind to the students ignited a fire within you. Not to mention the time he was absentmindedly holding a small black and white kitten while he was giving instructions. It didn’t feel fair but you knew that waiting was the right thing to do as you didn’t want any of the students to see the two of you in such a way.

Just as you were trying to think of anything else the very man in question passed by you pushing a boulder. His face calm as he chanted his mantra. While his muscles were in full display as the veins in his arms were bulging out. God you loved him. God how much you needed him. You were glad In that moment that he couldn’t see as the look you were giving him was simply sinful. Your body felt hot as your pussy ached with the absence of his cock. You needed him, your craved him and you knew it was only a matter of time before you were going to snap. You heard footsteps behind you and turned around to see one of the young demon and quite tired demon slayer students.

“Mrs. Himejima, I’m sorry to ask you this, but when do you think dinner will be ready?” One of the young demon slayers asked you with a strained voice as politely as he could manage.

“In about five minutes, tell the others for me will you?” You responded giving the poor tired boy a sweet smile as you did your best to push down the burning desire you had for your husband.

Meanwhile…

Gyomei had just wrapped up the waterfall demonstration as he noticed some of the young demon slayer students practically sprinting to the area that he knew his sweet wife was in. He decided to go there himself needing to hear your sweet voice after a long days of hearing the complaints of others. He sighed wiping the tears that had recently streamed down his face doing his best to look presentable to you. Soon, he had made it to you as a smile was present on his face.

To him, you were the very definition of perfection. Despite your physical weakness, you were kind. And to him, that was the greatest strength that anyone could have. He admired you for that and your kindness was one of the many reasons that he fell in love with you in the first place. He may not be able to see you but his soul knew that you were his and he was yours. And like you, he was getting very impatient for you. Hearing you day and day out being so sweet to these poor kids and how much you wanted to help him made him incredibly grateful and not to mention horny. He neeed you and he knew you needed him too. Now, he was probably the most patient man out there but when it came to you, it was though all reason and logic left him completely.

The thought of the way your smaller body sucked him in like it was meant to make him take a deep breath. His cock was beginning to grow and he tried his best to rid himself of such impure thoughts but hearing you now speaking so gently, so motherly, make him want to take you into the woods and make you the mother that he knew that you wanted to be. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Honey, would you like some too?” You asked suddenly as Gyomei had realized he was just standing here lost in the sinful thoughts of you.

“Yes my dear, thank you.” He responded after a few moments taking the massive plate of rice balls that you had made shivering slightly at the warm touch of your fingers brushing against his.

“You’re welcome! I made those just for you. I know you’ve been working really hard!” You beamed at him doing your best not to lose control at the mere sight of your husbands tall godlike stature in front of you. His sleeves were pulled up to his elbows as you had full view of his muscular arms still wet from the waterfall as his veins were in full view. You were doing your best but were practically drooling from just his arms. “Fuck.” You breathed out

“What was that, darling?” He asked putting one of his very large hands on your cheek, stroking it softly.

“N-nothing!” You chirped feeling slinky embarrassed for not keeping it together. “I hope you like them!” You quickly added

“I’m sure I will! If they are made by my sweet wife, then I know I’ll love them.” Gyomei spoke as pure adoration was lacing every word.

“Love?” You whispered

“Yes?” He asked bending down as he knew you needed to tell him something that only he needed to hear.

“I need you.” You whimpered finally admitting the thing you’ve needed to for four weeks now. “I know that we need to be professional but I can’t stand it anymore, I need you my husband. I need you. Please.” You added sounding so desperate so needy and who was Gyomei to deny you.

Without so much as a word, he set his plate gently down on a long and grabbed your hand as softly as he could and began walking into the woods a little too quickly. You began stumbling on your feet, barely tripping. Because of this, your husband quick as he could picked you up bridal style and now quicker than before, carried you far into the woods where he was positive that no one would wander. The very last thing he wanted was for someone’s innocent eyes to see what sinful acts he was about do upon his sweet wife.

Soon, he had found a suitable spot and had gently put you down on the soft grass. You hadn’t stopped looking at him the entire time as your mid was swimming with hundreds of scenarios that could happen in this very forest. Pussy was now soaking due to your excitement and impatience. Gyomei knew this as he could feel your wetness as he carried you earlier as his own make a sizable spot on his pants.

Gyomei then kneeled down and hovered over your smaller frame. He then without warning latched himself onto your neck. Kissing it roughly then softly allowing for you to fully grasp the sensation. And grasp you did as your whole body jerked with every kiss and every nip he was giving you. Your moans were loud and it was evident that he was doing well but could tell you needed more.

“Oh god, Gyomei please I need you.” You moaned out solidifying what he already knew.

“I know my love, I know.” He breathed out as he decided to start kissing down your chest more leaving a massive trail of love marks and kisses making your head spin as you grabbed a massive fistful of his spiky hair causing him to loudly grunt. He began sucking the skin on your hip making you buck up in response.

“Please!” You whined out needing more than this.

“Patience darling.” He whispered pressing kisses down your pussy causing your back to arch.

Without warning, he pushed your panties to the side and latched himself on your clit sucking it softly. His tongue began circling it making you moan your husbands name louder. Gyomei then proceeded to insert one of his large fingers into your needy hole and began pumping it in the way he knew you loved.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop. I’m gonna cum soon.” You moaned out pushing his head down against you as you began impinge is face softly.

He hummed in response as he inserted another finger slightly picking up the pace as he began scissoring your hole so that you were ready for him. Gyomei was content in his work as being intimate with you like this made him feel so accomplished. Knowing the he was the one to make you feel this good make his cock ache in his pants even more than it already had. Feeling bold, he decided that it was best to insert one more of his thick fingers.

“Gyomei!” You screeched as your climax had finally reached it peak. Your juices flowing into your husbands mouth as he greedily drank then with pleasure. Your then squeezed his head from the overstimulation you were feeling. You moaned his name over and over again as your vision went blurry and body numb from your orgasm. When he finally finished his meal, he lifted his head and gave you a sweet smile, his face covered in your pleasure.

“You did well, love. Would you like to continue?” He asked making sure you were going to be okay taking him.

“Y-yes. I need you.” You whimpered coming down from your incredible high that only Gyomei could give you.

“Good.” He spoke as his voice suddenly got deeper.

“Would you like me to take care of you?” You asked sitting up slightly as you watched him take off his clothes.

“I just need to feel you as you are. I’m getting rather impatient now my love.” Gyomei said as he suddenly picked you up as he latched his lips hungrily onto your own. You wrapped your arms around his strong neck as your boobs pressed against his hard chest.

Your eyes widen at the ferocity of his kiss. His tongue mixing with yours without warning. A moan escaped from his throat and that very sound sent shivers or pleasure down your spine. His arms gripped your smaller body as one of his hand heals you against him as the other gripped your ass firmly. You were shaking from this needing more.

“Honey..” you whined out.

But as soon as your spoke, your husband took his hand off your ass and desperately undid his pants, freeing his hard and sensitive cock. He the, rather boldly, grabbed your panties and ripped them off of your body like he was picking a flower.

“G-gyomei.” You stuttered shocked at his eagerness.

“Just need you and they were in the way of you.” He grunted and you whimpered my his show of strength. “Are you ready, dear?” He added making sure to take time to make sure you were comfortable.

“Mhmmm.” You moaned out

“Use your words sweet one.” Gyomei calmly asked.

“Yes! Please fuck me!” You cried out desperately feeling more and more desperate the longer this gets drawn out.

“Good girl.” He whispered in your ear as he lined himself with your pussy.

You felt the thick tip of his cock beginning to push in. You were more than ready to take him, wet from your previous orgasm. However, your husband, was not a small man. Meaning his cock was huge and no matter how long you prepared yourself, it would always be a slight challenge to take him. You were a smaller woman after all.

The burning sensation as his cock entered you made you suck on your breath at the pain. You gripped onto his shoulders digging into his skin. He grunted softly feeling how tight your pussy was against him a small smile graced his scarred face as the sensation he was longing for, praying for, was finally here after so long. Soon, after taking his time, his cock filled you up completely making you moan out his name. He stayed still allowing for you to adjust even more.

“Y/n, my darling, I’m going to move now. Is that okay?” He asked you softly as you felt his hands drift down to your ass once again.

“Yes!” I cried out with clear frustration in your voice.

“Good.” Gyomei responded

He then moved his hips slowly making sure that he wasn’t going to hurt you. Hearing your whimpers make him feel slightly crazy but he knew going too fast now would make you not be able to walk the next day. And he certainly didn’t want to embarrass you. However, your next words surprised him.

“Gyomei,dammit, stop being so nice to me and fuck me. I need it.” You cried out almost angry.

And that was the very encouragement he needed. Gyomei then pulled his cock out, only leaving the tip in making you whine in response before snapping his hips hard.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out as tears began pricking your eyes.

Your husband gripped your hips and ass as he began fucking you relentlessly. His pace was quick as his cock was hitting your cervix hard making your eyes roll back. He then began kissing and sucking on the most sensitive part of your neck making you moan loud. Your body was completely and utterly his in this moment as he was fucking you like never before. His grip on your ass would leave bruises and you knew that, not that you minded. Gyomei was grunting loud as he was pounding you in the air. Holding you like you weighed nothing. Using your body to his liking and god you loved it. You let him know how much you loved it scratching his back and moaning his name like a mantra. As you scratched you made sure not to hurt him.

“Harder my love, dig into my flesh!” He yelled out before crashing his lips hungrily onto yours.

And so, you did. You dig as deep and hard as you could as your husband went even faster than before making your mind and body feel like it was floating in ecstasy. The pain you felt before was long gone but you need for your husband grew and grew with each of his powerful thrusts. You began to cry due to overstimulation and the fact that you loved your husband so dearly.

“I-I love you so much.” You blabbered out as your tears poured out from your e/c eyes.

“I love you too, my darling.” Gyomei spoke out as his own tears started to flow as well. It wasn’t uncommon to see him crying but on this occasion it solidified his feelings for you. He was crying because of how much he loved you, how good you felt, and how thankful he was to have a woman like you in his life. And as he was pouring you he makes a silent prayer to God thanking him for you.

His grip on you increased as he felt himself close to cumming. His pace was erratic as the anticipation to his release was overwhelming. Your pussy was so tight, warm, and made perfectly for him. As for you, your own climax was soon as well. He was overwhelming all of your senses as you had already cum. Your body was far more sensitive than it had been in a long time due to waiting so long. You began to shake as you were getting weaker and weaker. However, you knew that even if you let go completely, your husband would hold you up due to his strength.

“Honey, m’gonna cum soon.” You blabbered out looking at his pleasure filled face.

“Me too, my darling, me too. I’m going to cum inside of you. Is that alright?” He asked quickly as his breathing became ragged.

“Y-yes. I want it.” You wined taking your turn to capture his lips with yours as you stuck your tongue in his mouth as your hands found new strength and gripped his hair roughly. His pace quickened as did his breathing. And soon you husband came as he held you closer to him as his dick was inside you fully.

“Oh my y/n, my one, my love.” He moaned out like he was praying a mantra.

You felt his thick cum filling you up like a warm embrace. You felt so full, so warm, so content. And as your husband held you, he brought one of his large hands yo your clit and began rubbing it in small circles, in the way you loved. He used the mixture of his cum and your slick to bring you pleasure. And just like that, you came hard. Your orgasm wracking your body with indescribable pleasure. His cock still stuffed deeply inside you as Gyomei could feel you tightening around him causing him to grunt as he decided to hump you slowly, enjoying the overstimulation that you were giving him.

“My love. Oh god!” You cried out still shaking from your high.

“I love you.” Gyomei whispered in your ear as he brought his left hand up to wipe the sweaty hair off your face as he placed a loving kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too. I’m so glad we did this.” You told him still in his embrace with his cock still inside you.

“Me as well. And as much as I’d love to do this again, we have students to attend too my darling love.” He said hesitantly as he gave you one more forehead kiss.

“Yeah, even if we did have time, I’m not sure my body could handle that again.” You admitted feeling tired. You laid your head on his chest taking deep breaths basking in the after glow of sex.

“Are you tired now?” He asked as he slowly pulled out making you gasp at the empty feeling.

“Yes, very.” You responded doing your best to sad on your own as he put you down. The feeling of his cum running down your legs made you shiver with the memory of recent events.

“Good I know you’ve been more restless recently. So I suggest you nap for awhile. I’ll tell the students.” He suggested as he put his clothes back on, doing his best to look at leafy semi presentable.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” You yawned taking his arm to balance yourself. “But first I think I need to clean myself first.” You acknowledged feeling a bit gross due to the amount of sweat that was just on your body.

“It’s as though you read my mind, my love.” He spoke with a smile as he hoisted you up again. You were more than accepting of his gesture as your legs were too wobbly to walk properly. “There is a spring near by so we’ll go there and cleanse you, my darling.” He spoke softly sensing you were falling asleep.

“Thank you, my love.” You sleepily replied as you closed your eyes and snuggled into his warm embrace.

Gyomei then took you to that spring and clean you up all while you were too tired to do really anything. Your husband didn’t mind whatsoever as he loved doting and taking care of you. He was a lucky man and he knew that. Once you were all clean, he put your clothes back on your tired body and walked back to camp. As he did some of the students were questioning why you were in his arms and if you were okay. But he simply replied that you needed rest. Soon, he found a nice shady tree and place you under it. The grass was soft enough and this he kissed your lips and said a silent prayer to the gods for you. He then went back to the students and resumed his training to make sure these young demon slayers were ready for the fight with Muzan.

Thank you so much for reading!! I did a trade with @petitelepus so be sure to check out their content too!! 💜

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

Please feel free to like, comment, reblog, and request!

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

[eccentricallygothic]

Psycho Husband!Steve Rogers who is a crazed coercive bastard.

Warning(s): Noncon, misogyny/sexism, depraved housewife kink, head shaving/hair cutting, he's a mental mf who thinks he is only doing what's best for you; cruel punishments are care and better sense according to him, age gap, fear kink, infantilization, humiliation, size kink. MDNI. 

. . .

You meekly sit atop your husband, Steve Rogers' lap as he feeds himself and you the dinner you meticulously prepared for him as he cares greatly for detail and perfection. 

The older man hums with each bite, one large paw caressing your back from over the thin -nearly sheer- material of one of the many dresses that make up the entirety of your wardrobe. 

“Absolutely delicious, baby, good job” he has been praising you with each bite and so you cannot help but smile at the compliments, your smaller body resting against his as you gently comb his hair with your fingers.

This is good.

Him being pleased is good.

“Thank you, my heart” you kiss his cheek that he had shaved just this morning when you were on your knees getting rid of his morning wood. He usually does that at night but you chose to wear a certain dress yesterday that caused for you to remain trapped in bed from the moment he got home till the both of you woke up tangled and sticky.

“See?” Now his fingers silkily glide up the length of your spine, past its dents that appear on your nape and towards your scalp that holds no barriers between your skins. “Wasn't I right?” Steve's fingertips flex all over your shiny head that he keeps empty from any hurdle between yourself and him. “Didn't it make things all better for us, hm?” Your tongue grows heavy and you feel it beginning to swell.

But you must not speak your mind.

For you are not allowed to have one.

“Yes, hubby, you were” you feel him stroke the bald crown of your head and the feeling of his coarse skin rubbing your soft and moisturized one sends shivers down your spine. 

His dark but relaxed blue eyes watch you, outwardly friendly but secretly inspecting you closely for the tiniest slip up. “Just too stupid to see it back then, weren't you?”

You nod nervously, offering him a smile as you avert your gaze from his, choosing to awkwardly play with his dress shirt instead. “Yes, hubby, I was.” Before you look up momentarily. He hates it when you don't look at him while speaking. “Thank you for teaching me better.” 

“And what did I teach you?” You bite your tongue, his words scalding your ears. 

Of course, he wants you to say it.

It is a routine that he likes to do every night. 

“That you are always right because you know better.” You resist the urge to cringe from how he suddenly gives you a burst of praise head rubs. 

It is a trap, meant to set you off.

He knows you don't like his hand rubbing your bald head like you're some kind of an animal and he still does it.

You've made the mistake of fighting back one too many times in the past.

But now you know it never fares well for you.

So better to just obey.

“Yeah?” His eyes begin to dance all over your form in that lewd fashion of theirs. “And how did I teach you that?” This is nothing new, and yet your heart drops.

“You taught me by…” Your face becomes hot from the embarrassment and humiliation. “B- By…” Fuck.

Even after all this time, it's no easier to do it. 

“By?” You can feel his sick arousal poke into the back of your thigh. He shifts to readjust himself. “Know what, honey?” He actually has the gall to sound friendly like he's doing you a favor out of the goodness of his heart. “I'll help your little mind out by giving you a hint.” You cannot hold his gaze anymore. So you drop your eyes and train them on his collars as you whimper into his cheek from how he hugs you closer with the arm he has draped around you. He loves proximity. “It had something to do with a machine and a cute head” his long fingers caress your scalp in circular motions.

Your heart is erratic against his chest. “H–” the whimper you let out is shaky and pathetic. Your expression falters into one of pain but you recover just as fast. At least on the outside. “T- Taught me by shaving my head.”

Steve's smirk is one of pride. “Oh? And what setting did I shave it on? Did I leave anything behind or did you become a complete cueball?” 

Tears sting your eyes from the sensitivity and helplessness as you feel your throat tighten even more. “N- No, hubby. Nothing was left. You shaved it all off…” Closing your eyes momentarily is the only way you can let out your next words. “Until I was a cueball.”

“And why was that, huh, baby?” Now he speaks to you like you're a child. 

He does that when he is horny. 

The realization makes your stomach twist.

“B- Because you warned me many times but—” your voice breaks and you softly sob into his cheek all of a sudden because the memories overwhelm you. “I didn't l- listen and my hair kept getting in the food I would prepare for you.” He somberly cooes and lowers your head forwards in a submissive position to caress the links of your spine.

“Oh, honey. Is that what happened?” Though Steve rests his cheek atop your bald head that he keeps shiny with scented oils and feigns sadness his bulge is too stiff against your tender skin for his little act to hold any weight. 

“Yes, hubby.” Your tears fall on your lap. 

“And how did it happen, huh, darling?” He loves the helplessness of your situation. That has got to be it. “Can you tell me?”

You nod and swallow the bile in your throat. Denial is not an option. “The scary razor went all over my head, hubby” you make yourself sound like a baby because that's what he likes. “Like buzz buzz buzz~” you try to mimic the sound and gesture as you run a pretend trimmer over your naked scalp. 

“Aw, it was scary for your little baby self, was it?” You timidly nod, pouting a little. “That's because you're so small and easily scared, aren't you?” He presses kisses all over your head and pinches your cheek. 

“Yes, hubby.” 

“Aw, my poor girl” he cups your face and lets his thumb trace the shape of your mouth. “I get it, you’re just a baby” he cannot but kiss you deeply before speaking again. 

“But it was necessary, wasn't it? And it worked” it is typical of him to seek validation for his unhinged actions from you, probably helps him sleep easier and pumps his pompousness further. “No more hair in the food.” He smiles and forces you to look at him by tipping your head back.

“No more hair in the food.” You echo him like the hollow doll he has made of you.

“Awww” he chuckles at the dejection in your voice. “Cheer up, silly. You look just as perfect as the first moment I laid my eyes on you” his lips repeatedly peck yours for a few moments. Then he continues. “I am the only one whose opinion matters for you and I think you're the most gorgeous thing alive” he scoops you up in his arms before standing up and you give him a smile like you're supposed to. He leans in to capture it in his own. “The cueball only makes you sexier and more nude for me. So it's a win all around” you whimper into the words he utters against your mouth. “C'mon, hubby will make you feel all better.” He whispers before carrying you to the bedroom. It is impossible not to be aware of your devastation and that is why he offers compensation the way he does. “Yeah?”

All you can do is nod defeatedly.

. . .

If you made it down here, hi you're cool. 

[m13trieswriting]

Love of my life - Alexia Putellas

Hey everyone, I really enoyed writing this one, if anyone has any suggestion feel free to comment them! It doesn't have any warning just a bit of suggestion towards sex but nothing explicit, just a bit of flirting. Hope you like it!

As the sun set Y/n couldn't help but to be blown away by the magnificient view her eyes were staring at. The variety of colors mixed with the beautiful beach, the palm trees, the way the ocean was so calm, in tune with her soul in that moment. The landscape made her want to relinquish the routine she had, her job, the city, everything but her beautiful girlfriend who would join her any in a moment in the balcony.

She was thrilled, nervous, and shaking. She couldn't believe she was going to finally do it. Mapi joked she had taken her time when she confessed that saturday night that she was going to FINALLY, after all those years of being sure, propose to her girl, the women of her dreams. And fuck it if Mapi wasn't right, she had taken too long.

It wasn't that she wasn't certain, she had been certain since she first saw the way Alexia's eyes shined everytime she smiled, wanting to make her laugh every two seconds just to see that look in her eyes.

Between their jobs, wanting to make it special, and reassuring herself that Alexia would say yes, she had only taken 3 years and a half.

Mapi was right, too much.

-Enjoying the view?- the sweet voice of the love of her life took her out of her thoughts. If only she knew...

Y/n turned around, and when she could glimpse of her soon-to-hopefully-be-wife she thought she was going to die right there.

-Wow- was everything she could form. Alexia decided on a two pieced short black skirt with her thighs visible, and strong, and pretty, and sporty who looked extra glowing that night and that would look better trapping her head. Get your shit together, Y/n thought to herself.

Her top was something else, the way her abs showed. The way her tatoos weren't covered. The way her strong arms were flexing with the two glasses of champagne she had in her hands. Fuck, her hands, she shouldn't have looked there, only the sight of them made her want to drop all their plans and lead them to the bed, or whatever surface they found first.

-You look so beautiful, I cannot believe- she said slowly, like a secret, like if she talked to loud she was gonna wake herself up from a dream that was definately too good to be true- you choose me to share your love with.

-I must have done something very good in another lifetime to be able to be here with you.

-Stop, you are going to make me cry- Alexia answered- Don't be stupid, I'm the lucky one, no one has ever made me feel this safe, secure, confident and loved ever. Have you seen yourself my love, you are the living example of a gorgeous person.

Y/n smiled fondly, placing her hands on her girls waist to pull her closer, kissing her deeply, with all the love she felt, with all the love she had in herself. The kiss was full of meaning and connection, of two souls who could forever rest in peace because they'd found their missing piece.

-I hope you take off mi skirt when we get back baby-The blonde murmured while breaking the kiss.

-I cannot wait to take everything out of you tonight darling.

..............................................................................................................................

The dinner Y/n planned was everything Alexia could have dreamed of.

As they were having dinner under the stars and surrounded by a thousand candles that pinted the beach with a similar glow which their eyes had in that moment, the blonde thought that was were she was supposed to be, with the woman she was madly in love with and with whom she trusted her life with.

-Everything you have done, the way you planned the whole trip, the dinner, everything, was very thoughtful of you, thanks for making me happy day by day- Alexia admitted whilst taking her lovers hand-I love you with my whole heart, never forget it.

-Ale, my one and only love, I don't know how to start to say how I feel, but there's a warm in my heart that has been there since i first saw you lips curve into a smile and will forever have a hold in the deepest of my heart. - Y/n's breath started to shake as the weight of what she was finally going to do rested upon her shoulders- there's not a single day which I don't thank my lucky stars for being able to share my life with you. You are the happiest of my memories, and nothing would make me more blessed and delighted than sharing every lifetime I have with you.

-Y/n, my love I- she tried to interrupt you but you wouldn't let her, not when you were so close to opening up.

-Let me finish, please.

-My heart beats with the solemn purpose of falling more and more in love with you every single day. And if you let me, I'm going to try to make you feel as safe, comfortable and blissful as you make me feel.

-Would you- she continued whilst standing up and getting down on one knee in front of her, taking out a box with a shiny diamond ring in it and opening slowly, holding her breath with the anticipation- desire to be my wife? My love? My Ale forever.

Alexia thought she forgot how to breath, her heart was beating faster that had ever beated before.

-Yes, of course yes, I love you so much, so so much. Everything you said. Fuck you are making me cry. I'm so blessed to have you, thank you for choosing me. For making this so special, for treating me the way you treat me.

-You deserve the world- the captain continued- and I'm going to make sure I give it to you.

Y/n smiled fondly and started putting the ring on her fiancee's finger.

-It's so beautiful.

-A beautiful woman had to have the most precious ring I could find.

-i'm so in love with you-Alexia confessed.

Y/n couldn't handle it more and kissed her Ale passionately, not holding back one bit, putting every feeling in the kiss. The captain couldn't help but place her hands on her fiancee's lower back, too close to her arse.

-Let's go to our room, fiancee- the blonde ordered

-As my fiancee wishes. God I alredy love the nickname so much. I can't wait for you to moan it.- Y/n confessed mere inches away from her lover's face.

-Imagine on our honeymoon when I'm calling you my wife.

[jayaury]

Marrying the Maid

More archive short stories. Get more on my P*treon. Enjoy! https://www.patreon.com/JayAury

---

Baron Lukas Instaf fell into his office chair with an audible groan.

Yes.

His office.

He had to keep reminding himself of that fact. To think, he would inherit the barony at a mere twenty years of age. It was quite a bit of pressure, he had to admit.

He found himself looking back at the imposing portrait hanging over the mantle of the fireplace. His father’s picture was of a grim, sullen man with dark hair and a face of hard, disapproving lines.

Lukas had inherited the man’s hair, if not his rough features. He was slimmer than his stocky father. Many said handsomer, and certainly younger. He flexed his hands on the arms of the chair uneasily and scanned the study. He didn’t much care for the decor. But that had always been his problem, as his father had frequently berated him. He was indecisive. Weak.

Well, Lukas had best start getting decisive. For this was his home now.

Well, mostly.

The door swung open with a bang. “Good morning master!”

He sat up sharply as a familiar figure bounced into the room. Clarissa, the family’s maid of two years, was a forceful personality in the house. She filled every room she stepped foot in with her presence and somewhat unconventional character. Lukas had no idea why his father had kept the boisterous redhead.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had a good idea. Two of them, actually. Clarissa was bustier than some holstaurs. In fact, there were rumours that she was one of those bovine maidens, but had filed down her horns. Lukas wasn’t sure how much he believed that, but he did know that she did attend that new cow goddess church that was making waves. And she was unbelievably brash and forceful for a servant. Not to mention teasing. He’d often been at the receiving end of her attentions, leaving him flustered and annoyed.

And she was wearing scent again, he noticed with a sigh. Honestly, it seemed like every day she wore a new kind of perfume. The current one was jasmine, and was shockingly potent. Well, at least it was better than the rosemary she used to wear around his father. In fact, it was almost… pleasant.

“Clarissa!” he sighed, forcing himself not to stare at the maid’s impressive bust. “You-”

“Here with your tea!” she said, sliding the tray into place before him with a wink of her long lashes. “Starting off the morning well, as the big, strong baron should!”

“Clarissa, really. You can’t just-”

“Not to worry, my baron! There’s plenty of cream. I know how much you like it,” she added, picking up a pitcher and pouring a generous helping into his cup. “And you’ll need it today! Because we have quite a bit of work to do.”

In the midst of tidying his papers, Lukas paused. “We do?”

“Of course, my lord! Now that you are baron, we must decide on your betrothed.”

“M-my what!”

“And I have them right here!” Clarissa chimed, lifting a folder out from some hidden recess of her scandalously short skirt (it had to be custom. No other maid in the estate had such a revealingly tight uniform). “Shall we take a look, my baron?”

“Wh… Hold on now, I can’t just-”

“My baron!” Clarissa cried in mock horror. “Surely you realize the importance in choosing your bride? The barony cannot be left without a mistress. Not only for the hard work running the estate, but also the vital work of carrying on the family line! Which means we must choose the most ample, breedable, lovely wife for you.”

“B-breedable? Clarissa! That is-”

“Not to worry, my baron. I’m sure you can manage that. Why, any woman would consider herself lucky to be bent over your table as you thrust home, stuffing her full of your droit de seigneur.”

Lukas’s face burned as it always did whenever Clarissa got going like this. Not to say she was wrong, unfortunately. She was absolutely right. He did need to get married, but it still seemed so early to be shopping for a bride. “Clarissa, really. I-”

“Early to start, my baron! We must be. Once word gets out that Baron Instaf is not only single, but such an adorable, impressive, handsome piece of stud meat, why, we’ll be besieged by eligible young ladies looking to have you mount them like a prized mare! And whichever does will be lucky to have you. Take my word for it!”

“Clarissa! This is… that sort of talk is hardly-”

“You’re so right, my baron. Here I am, chattering away, and you haven’t even gotten a chance to look at the choices! Let’s take a look at the candidates, shall we?”

Lukas sighed, finally giving up. It was near impossible to stop Clarissa once she set her mind to something, though by gods he would soon. He’d have to talk to the head butler about firing her. She treated him far too casually. But for now, he supposed the best thing was just to get this business with the portraits over with.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s take a look…”

“How wise, my dear baron,” Clarissa chirped merrily as she opened the folder to the first page, propping it up just underneath her immense bosom.

Lukas cleared his throat, forcing himself to look at the portrait and not the impressive pair of breasts just above it. “And this is…”

“Mirria Mable. Daughter of a lord in the southern country. Quite the pick specimen. An attractive if air headed young thing. Pretty, but not terribly bright. And not nearly as endowed as me, hm?”

“Clarissa! That’s hardly appropriate,” Lukas said, though he had to admit it was true, and his eyes did quickly steal a glance at Clarissa’s chest as if just to make sure of that. Gods, the room felt suffocating in the perfume she wore. He should open a window, though the scent wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it was a bit… soothing.

Clarissa giggled. “Very true, my baron. We cannot judge a woman less blessed than myself in that respect. Some of us were merely born with a generous bosom. Perfect to lay one’s head upon.”

Lukas rolled his eyes, but felt his cheeks warm at the thought. “I ah… Well, what about the others?”

“The others? Of course, my lord,” Clarissa said, turning the page, her chest bouncing as she did so.

The sight made Lukas realize quite suddenly his mouth was very dry. With haste, he picked up a teacup and took a sip. Mm. Normally he wasn’t a big fan of cream in his tea, but wherever Clarissa got hers, it was delicious.

“Now then,” Clarissa said. “Lady Blumen from the duchy of Clausen seems like a perfect match for you. Nearly as busty as I am, and I know how important that is for you, my baron.”

“Not that important…” he mumbled.

“Ho ho!” Clarissa laughed, the throaty mirth making her breasts bounce most distractingly in her tight top. “How droll you are, my baron! But I know how much you value an impressive pair of breasts. You can barely keep your eyes off mine!”

Lukas flushed again, realizing he had been staring at her chest. He hastily took another sip of tea. Gods, he was feeling a bit light headed. “I ah… What else is there about her?”

“Why, only that she is something of a black widow, my baron. A nasty piece of work. She delights in wedding rich men, then crushing them beneath her heel. Nitpicking them until they don’t dare breathe without her approval. And what a cruel thing, my baron! Why, she cannot understand true love. The love of a good husband willing to do anything for his darling wife. Adore you. Worship her! She’s only in it for the quick cash! No sense of adoring her new spouse like the good boy he is.”

“S-sorry. Good boy?” Lukas said.

Clarissa giggled, her long lashes fluttering again. “Oh yes, my baron. A husband must be assured what a good boy he is. What a good, obedient, lovey dovey dummy he is to his beloved wife. Otherwise, he might get the most silly ideas in his head.”

Lukas felt his cheeks redden at the degrading words, even if they weren’t addressed to him. And he found his eyes looking at Clarissa’s breasts again. Big and soft. The subtle heave as she breathed. Or rather, the not so subtle. Looked like she was as into the discussion as he was.

“Er, right. Sure,” Lukas said, taking another sip of tea, sinking back into his seat with a sigh. “So, not her.”

“Oh no, my baron. You deserve so much better. So much bustier! So much more loving and adoring. A sweet wife who would show you what a good boy you are. Who would let you adore her like the happy, dopey husband you were always meant to be.”

“Er, yes. Yes. But uh… Who is the next one?”

“Oh yes, my baron. That would be the Countess Francesca,” Clarissa said, turning the next page. “But she wouldn’t make an appropriate wife for you either my lord.”

“Hm?” Lukas said, taking another sip, barely paying attention as he watched Clarissa’s breasts bounce. “She wouldn’t? Why… why not?”

“Oh my baron! Why, she does not want children.”

“O-oh,” Lukas said as he took another long drink of his tea. “Yes, that might… might be a problem. Need an heir…”

“Oh no, my baron. Not just one.”

“S-sorry?”

Clarissa gave him a knowing look. “Why, my dear baron, your wife must bear you many children! A dozen at least. A dozen happy, lovely children. Your wife needs to be very eager to take your virile seed. Because I know, my dear baron, that you’re far too much a stud to be satisfied with just one child. That you would like nothing more than to breed your beloved wife at every opportunity. To make her breasts so big… so heavy… so creamy and soft that you can’t help but play with them and kiss them every night.”

Lukas stared at her breasts. Gods, he could imagine it. Imagine those breasts bouncing. Heaving. Wobbling and Clarissa positively glowing from… from…

But… but no. He… he needed to only think of… of his wife like that. Yes. Only his wife. His beloved wife, whoever… whoever it turned out to be.

“I uh…”

“Oh dear, my baron,” Clarissa sighed, closing the folder dramatically, crossing her arms beneath her jiggling bust. “This just won’t do! It seems like there isn’t a noble woman in the land who can satisfy all your needs. A woman so busty. So loving. So beautiful and fertile to satisfy your very high standards.”

“I… y-yes. No one…”

“Oh!” Clarissa suddenly said, brightening visibly. “But then, of course! How silly of me. I didn’t think of that at all! Why, you don’t need a noblewoman for your wife.”

“I… I don’t?” Lukas said, frowning a little, brow wrinkling in concentration. Didn’t he? He was under the impression that was important…

“Oh no, my beloved baron,” Clarissa cooed as she planted her hands on the table, climbing onto it and crawling towards him, pendulous breasts swaying teasingly, her eyes hot, molten with something that made Lukas’s pulse quicken and pound. “Not at all. Why, if the noble stock isn’t up to the standards, then we must simply find another who is. One who is capable of seeing the greatness in you. The handsomeness. The virile… powerful… studliness in you.”

Lukas found himself instinctively retreating, pressing into the back of his chair, watching his maid move towards him like a she-wolf on the hunt. “Wh-who?”

“Now that is the question, isn’t it, my baron,” Clarissa giggled, straightening so she was kneeling on the desk in front of him, her hands cupping her breasts, fondling and massaging them teasingly. “She’d have to know your domain inside and out. She’d have to have every servant in the house already under her thumb. She’d have to know the ways you love things done. She’d have to be so pretty… so clever… so very… very… busty that you just couldn’t say no to her. Every idea she had would just seem like the bestest idea ever. Oops! Did I say breastest?”

“D-did you?” Lukas said, fairly drooling as he watched her bounce and mold her breasts together.

“Maybe I should have, hmm?” Clarissa said. “Because I know how much my baron loves breasts. Big… bouncy… soft breasts. That’s why I know he’ll make the right choice. I know he’ll decide on exactly the right person to be his baroness. To be his loving wife. His devoted mistress. His gorgeous… bouncy… beautiful bride. But who, my baron? Who is busty and smart and beautiful enough for that.”

“Wh-who?” Lukas gasped.

“Think hard, my baron,” Clarissa crooned.

Lukas tried to. He really did. But his mind just didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Every thought he had swirled and squished and bounced and wobbled like Clarissa’s breasts. He whimpered, biting his lower lip, trembling with need as his maid continued to massage her breasts, her buttons straining against her ample tit flesh until… until…

“Mmmm,” Clarissa moaned, tearing open the front of her uniform, her ample, pale breasts spilling into the open. Bouncing with heavy softness. Nipples dark accents to their creamy slopes.

Lukas gasped, jolting like from a physical blow as her breasts bounced free.

“Whoops!” Clarissa giggled. “Did I do that?”

“Y-you… you…” Lukas stammered.

Clarissa’s smile widened. “Me, my lord?” she said coyly. “You want me to be your gorgeous baroness?”

Lukas blinked blankly, his sloshing thoughts struggling. “I…”

“Well, it is true, my lord,” Clarissa cooed, her leg extending, foot pressing against his chest and pushing him and his chair back with a squeak. “I am so very smart. So very beautiful. So very…” she breathed, sliding off the desk, into his lap, Lukas groaning as her weight settled on the hardness of his tenting cock. “Very…” Clarissa moaned as she leaned forward, her ample titflesh pressing against his face. “...Busty…”

Lukas shuddered, inhaling, breathing in the heady scent of Clarissa’s breasts and body. A scent so potent and strong it made his toes curl. Sweet. Heavy and wonderful. Something so real. So potent. The jasmine stuffing his nose. Suffocating his thoughts. And with… with just a faint hint of cream…

“Oh, but whatever would society say,” Clarissa groaned, her hips rocking, rubbing herself upon his thick cock, making Lukas moan and pant under her as his cock throbbed with need. As her breasts squished his face between them and Clarissa’s weight ground him under her. “They might say such terrible things…”

“Ohhhh,” Lukas groaned.

“You’re so right, my baron,” Clarissa giggled. “True love overcomes all odds. And oh, but you do love me, my baron. You do love my big… soft… breasts. And I love you. Loved you so much I tried all sorts of alraune perfumes before I found the one that just. Makes. You. Melt.”

“Mmmm,” Lukas moaned as he inhaled deeply.

“And you love my wonderful, clever mind, don’t you?” Clarissa cooed as she gave her breasts a bounce, swirling his thoughts again to a lather. “So smart to think of buying that holstaur cream for your tea. So clever to know how malleable it makes a good boy. How needy and aroused by big breasts it makes him. How adoring and dumb. How needy and horny and obedient.

“But there is something bigger than my breasts, my baron,” Clarissa moaned as she squeezed her tits around his head. “Oh yes! Believe it. And that is my warm, adoring heart. Perfectly made for my darling baron. Utterly devoted to him. Because I know, my beloved baron, how haaaaard it is for you to think with me around. How distracted you get from a big… soft… pair of breasts. How hard it is for you to rule. You’re not suited for it, my lord. You’re just suited to be a lovey dovey bimbo. A perfect, obedient stud to your darling wife. And oh, my baron, do you really want me? Do you really need me?”

Lukas whimpered beneath his maid, his mind whirling. Drunk on lust and love and heavenly cream and her body. His hands trembled as they touched her, stroking her hips and rump. Touching her back and causing Clarissa to lean forward and bounce teasingly atop him, his chair creaking.

“Oh my baron. If you begged me, then, well, maybe,” Clarissa giggled. “If you told me how much you loved me, how much you need me, then maybe I’d believe you. Maybe I could be convinced to make you my adoring husband. My sweet, brainless stud of a man who’d do anything his busty wife said. Shall we try, my baron?”

“Mmmm,” Lukas moaned into her breasts.

“Let’s,” Clarissa crooned.

Lukas gasped as her breasts came off his face. He blinked dully as he found Clarissa smiling down at him, gaze smoldering and smirk hot with desire.

“I…” Lukas said.

“I want you, my baron,” Clarissa breathed. “Don’t you want me too?”

The note of hot passion in her tone dashed any effort of resistance from him. Lukas’s mouth trembled and he nodded, the truth escaping him in a panting gasp.

“Y-yes,” he said. “W-want you.”

“Do you, my baron?” Clarissa cooed as her hips rose, her hands teased down his chest and to his crotch, Lukas gasping as her fingers played with his bulge, undoing his zipper. “Do you want to fuck your beautiful bride? Propose to her and fuck her and breed her glorious pussy?”

“Y-yes!” Lukas whimpered, his cock springing into the open, a shock of pure ecstasy surging through him as her fingers wrapped around his length. “C-Clarissa, I… I…”

“Oh my baron,” Clarissa giggled, leaning in closer, her molten eyes hot, her rouged lips soft, enunciating every word as he felt his cock guided under the tickling hem of her skirt, brush the smooth skin of her inner thigh, drawn towards the heat of her naked pussy. “Just say… I do.”

“I… I… d-dooooo!” Lukas groaned, head falling back as Clarissa’s body eased down, his cock swallowed in the warm tightness of her pussy. His face buried again under the buxom softness of her ample tits.

“Mmmmm!” Clarissa moaned, her hips rocking, riding her atop his cock with slow, passionate motions that sent throbbing ecstasy radiating through his body and manhood. “Ohhhh my baaaaron! Yes! Yes! I will! I’ll be your baroness! I’ll be your gorgeous wife! Your perfect lover! Your loving, breedable bride. Ah. Ah! Oh goddess yes! Fuck me! Fill me with your cock!”

Lukas groaned beneath her, his lips kissing and licking her breasts, lost in the creamy valley of her tits, trapped in the ecstasy of her figure and the seemingly endless ampleness of her bouncy breasts. His cock throbbed in her, squeezed by her adoring inner walls. Heat consumed him. Pleasure subsumed him.

It was so good. So perfect. He couldn’t break free. Couldn’t resist. The need to cum surged within him. Devoured him. Urged him towards the inevitability of climax. He panted, gasping, moaning under her.

“Yes!” Clarissa gasped. “Oh my baron! Oh my husband! Yes! Fuck me! Fill me! Stuff me full of your cum! Ohhhhh my baron! I neeeed it! Need your mnnn! Your cum! Ah. Yes. Yes! Cum in me, Lukas. Cum in your bride! Fuck me! Breed me! Now! Breed me… nooooow!”

Her voice rose, a crescendo of shameless pleasure, her inner walls tightening, flexing, squeezing his cock with the glory of her peak. As her breasts shuddered around his head, Lukas cried out, surrendering to her pleasure, his cock throbbing, his balls tightening.

And he came.

Blessed release seemed to burst within him. Sear him. Devour him. His cock surrendered to her, filling her in sharp bursts of heady pleasure.

Lukas moaned, lost in her breasts. Lost in the pleasure. Floating in a sea of creamy ecstasy and delight, his mind sinking under waves of soft, bouncy bliss.

Atop him, Clarissa cooed, giggling as she felt him sag, lost beneath her breasts. Her arms wrapped around her new husband’s head, pulling him deeper into her bosom as she looked about the study. Ugh. Such depressing decoration. She’d have to get it cleaned out. And the room would make such a lovely nursery too.

She giggled, admiring the dazed expression of her former master as she smothered him beneath her breasts. She couldn’t wait for the wedding. Especially since she promised that holstaur priestess and her alraune friend they could be her bridesmaids. After all, when one was looking for a husband, one needed a foot in the door. And she just knew her beloved betrothed had some friends in need of busty, brainwashing brides.

Clarissa hummed contentedly, lazily rocking her hips, feeling Lukas’s cock stir anew within her, ready for round two.

Mmm.

All too easy for a clever, busty girl like her…

[carmenberzattosgf]

It's 💙💙💙me again !I've Come to be annoying ! Lol . Okay so hear me out , it's cold as shit in Chicago during the winters and the reader just moved there and isn't used to it and her clothes arent warm enough and it makes carmen annoyed as hell BECAUSE ITS COLD AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING ?? So he's always giving you his coat and reader is always like "no no no , you're gonna be cold 🥺🥺🥺" while she's grabbing his biceps but at the same time she's like all "heheheeh" on the inside and giddy and he just gives her a stern look and spank on the ass for being irresponsible 🫣 but at the same time he loves her wearing his jacket and now she's only allowed to wear his jacket basically 💙

You could never annoy me friend!!

But yes I sooo agree with this. I’m thinking pre relationship you would show up to work after walking there when it was FREEZING. All you have to keep you warm is a flimsy little jacket. You suck it up and don’t complain.

Carmy notices though when the day is over and you’re about to head out back into the cold with your sad excuse for a jacket.

“Y/N. Did you forget your jacket in your locker or something? It’s freezing you need to go grab it.”

“This is all I’ve got! I haven’t had time to buy a proper winter jacket since moving here. I’ll be fine though. I made it this morning just fine.” The concerned look on Carmy’s face turns into one of complete shock.

“What the hell were you thinking? It’s like 20 degrees outside.” Carmy begins to unbutton his thick fleece-lined denim jacket and shrug it down his shoulders.

“Woah, woah, woah. What are you doing?” You grab at his arms to stop his movements. His biceps flex beneath your palms. You knew he was ripped, but to feel his muscles under your own hand is much different than just looking at them.

“I’m letting you wear my jacket.” You two argue back and forth before you finally give in. He stands behind you and helps you slip the jacket on. It’s soft and cozy, and the smell of Carmen overwhelms you. “There we go. That’s much better now, isn’t it?”

You couldn’t lie. He was right. “Thank you Carmy. I’ll get this back to you tomorrow. Promise.”

“No. Don’t worry about it. You said you didn’t have time to get a jacket, right? Consider it a ‘welcome to Chicago’ gift.”

“You don’t have to do that! This is a really nice jacket. I don’t want to take it from you.”

“Trust me. I have plenty just like it. Besides, it looks nice on you.”

Now once you two are in a relationship? Yeah you forget your (his) jacket on purpose just so you can wear whatever one he wore to work back home. The main reason behind this is so you can smell like him for however long the jacket retains his scent.

He’s come to expect this and actually keeps an extra jacket in his locker so he doesn’t freeze to death in Chicago winter.

But yes. Every single time it happens he will playfully scold you and slap you on the ass because he knows you love it.

He truly cannot get enough of you in his clothes. He would walk home in the blistering cold if it meant he got to see you wearing one of his jackets

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 4

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw.

one. two. three.

Four. 四

While Donaka Mark touched himself, you sat up in your bed and scribbled furiously in your journal, trying to exorcize him from your mind, trying to alleviate this weight from your skin. You write about what happened in the garden–and then you write about what might have happened, if you actually had a spine, and no sense of self preservation, and didn't prefer your risks to solely play out on a page. 

For lack of a better word, what you put down in your journal is pure filth, and you know when the first rays of morning shine through your window you should tear out those pages, destroy them, ensure no one else ever puts eyes on the raunchy ruminations of your feral pen. 

But…you don’t.

You keep them, hiding your little notebook in your underwear drawer. Who would ever find them there? Who would even be interested? 

Donaka should be focusing his energies on cultivating his next new champion, but instead, he cannot stop thinking about you. 

Your innocent defiance, your bravery in the face of such a terrible monster. He has no delusions about what he is. He can’t tell if you do. All your talk of misunderstood creatures–he thinks that maybe you’re not as innocent as you seem. That maybe, you have a dark and fearless side just waiting to be brought out, something deep inside you–something only he could mine from you. He will have it. He will work you over your fear of him, until you gladly surrender. He will not rest until you are his, body and soul. Maybe he employs you, but he wants to own you.

And Donaka Mark always gets what he wants.

***

A week later, you are cleaning the hallway when you spy Donaka training with another martial artist in the gym. He is mesmerizing, deadly and powerful. The fight that ensues–and the temple-like setting of his training area–are both like something out of a level of Mortal Kombat. When he takes his opponent down with a loud kiai–you can't help but half jump out of your skin, gripping your broom. When he lifts his gaze to find you there gawking at him, you know you are caught out.

He feels a flash of pleasure at the way you gasp and jump at the sound–he feels it more than hears it. He is attuned to you, he knows where you are at all times. Not just because he is constantly watching you on his cameras–he feels you, when he concentrates and closes his eyes. 

You are his.  He doesn’t really take his gaze off you as he stands up and briefly bows to his training partner. He can see how you are clearly preparing to run, and he doesn’t want you to get away just yet. He crooks his finger at you as his partner packs up his things to go, and you really have no choice but to go to him on the mat. His eyes rake over you as you join him. Maybe you’re looking at him the same way, as he dries the sweat from his glistening skin with a towel, his muscles flexing. 

Would it kill him to train with a shirt on?

You feel like this is a trap he constructed–you’re not wrong. 

“Almost done,” he says, letting you know you can clean up the mats soon.

"Yes, Sir." Finally you have the grace to avert your eyes, and not ogle this beautiful man. You notice he has a long, thick scar right down the center of his abdomen, and you wonder what happened to him. You tear your eyes away, before you can follow that line down further, the dark tuft of hair peeking out of his pants that practically invites you to indulge in yet more dirty thoughts about this man.

He smirks down at you, savoring your obeisance. 

“Ever tried martial arts?”

You are so not telling him about your childhood dabbles, after watching his brutal and precise practice. Instead you lean on your broom, relaxing slightly. “I clearly have a black belt in Tae Sweep Kun Do.” 

He snorts in answer. “Very funny. But martial arts are not a joke. The way of the warrior is a serious pursuit.” 

“I mean…” You cannot help your insouciant smile now. “Jackie Chan movies are pretty funny. Rush Hour? Timeless classic.”

Maybe if you annoy this man enough, he will give up on torturing you with the sight of his utterly biteable pecs. Almost as though he senses what you’re doing, his focus just intensifies on you, that knowing smirk in place. 

He takes another step closer to you, standing so that he could reach out and touch you if he wanted to.

“I could teach you,” he offers, “If you ever decide to take it seriously.”

The thought of him manhandling you under the pretense of teaching you floods your body with an annoying wave of desire, your grip tightening on your broom. You avert your eyes, certain he sees it all. 

“Thanks, but…when would I ever need to hit someone? All I'd have to do is tell them I work for Donaka Mark...they'd probably shit themselves and run away." 

Donaka lets out a short bark of laughter at this unexpected answer, amused by your response. 

He takes a step closer to you, commanding your gaze with a single finger under your chin, craning your neck to an almost uncomfortable angle. That single, possessive touch lights you on fire. “Such a filthy mouth on such a pretty girl,” he teases darkly.

"Sorry, Sir," you apologize quietly, your throat full of sand. You feel him tense to move, maybe to near closer, or touch you more, and you panic. “I’ll be back soon to clean up in here," you say, backing away and fleeing to your next task. 

Which includes hiding in the servants quarters for a little bit to catch your breath, your body crawling with need from that one. Little. Touch. You know you’ll be writing a lot in your junk journal that night to get it out of your system. Desire will eat at you all day, you’re certain, like some kind of parasite robbing you of your sanity. It isn’t pleasant, this thing you feel for Donaka Mark. It’s uncomfortable, and dangerous, and you wish you knew how to cut it out of you.

He’d watched you go with equal parts satisfaction and frustration for flustering you–usually he revels in a long game of corruption, but more and more lately he just wants you in his hands, and you keep running away from him. You are trying his patience, with your bad jokes and your big eyes looking at him. 

Soon, he is going to shut you up with his cock stuffed inside you, and his mouth on yours. You don’t know it yet, but you’re even going to beg for it. He always gets his way.

Later, he will watch you scribbling in your journal, curled up in your skimpy pajamas on your tiny bed, from a hidden camera placed in your room. You’ve become his favorite late night show. He wonders what makes your hand move so furiously across the page, and sometimes between your legs. Is it him? He hates it that you have a secret he’s not privy to–yet. He gives zero thought to this violation of your privacy. You live in his house. 

You belong to him.

chapter map

[back2bluesidex]

Forbidden - KNJ (18+)

Pairing: Professor!Namjoon X Student!Fem reader

Theme: SMUT, PWP, Forbidden relationship au.

Summary: You know it's forbidden but you don't care, not when your professor is more than ready to ruin you.

Word count: 1813

Warnings: professor fucking a student, cumming on her ass, strong language, spanking, slut shaming, Joon hits it from behind, unprotected sex (it's a no no), domish Namjoon.

Minors are NOT welcomed in this blog!!

✨✨✨✨

Forbidden - “Not permitted or allowed” 

There is not a single part of the definition that you don’t understand -- Yet you can't help it.

All of your life you have been an exemplary kid. Be it academics, be it code of conduct, be it discipline, you have always excelled in everything. But you were never nosy about it. You kept yourself humble but quite reserved at the same time. You know well which lines cannot be crossed and which ones can, that too, when you should cross them. 

With a pair of big doe eyes and a heart full of enthusiasm, you stepped into this university. All set to achieve your dream degree. 

However, some of it changed when this one particular person walked into your life. 

“I clearly remember asking everyone to do their own parts even if it’s a group project. Didn’t I?” Kim Namjoon, your physics professor, says with his baritone voice. Hints of anger evident in his expression. 

“Yes, professor.” You and your project partners chant in unison. 

“But I got this feeling that two of you haven’t even written a single word.” Namjoon crosses his hands on his chest as he supports his weight on the table. Your eyes follow his every movement. The way his chest flexes against his tight turtleneck, it's illegal. You inhale sharply trying to shoo away the intrusive thoughts that are starting to cloud your mind. 

“No professor! We did as we were told” one of your partners almost shouts in her defense. You resist the urge of rolling your eyes. You know Namjoon is right, because you were the one to do the entire project. Park Sun Mi was way too busy with her baseball captain boyfriend and Lee Jae Min was way too high to come down and use that one left brain cell to do the project. You had no choice but to do the entire thing alone. You can’t afford to lose points because of your unworthy partners, even if that means giving them the scores they clearly don’t deserve. 

“Is that so? Then you should have no problem in appearing for a test based on the project in my office after your class hours.” their mouths fall open at Namjoon’s suggestion. 

“But professor-” Jaemin starts but Namjoon cuts him off,

“No ifs and buts. Report directly to me after your classes are over. Is that clear?” Namjoon says in a very authoritative tone. There is no room for any objection any more. Neither that you would ever object, you would rather spend an hour or two taking an unnecessary test in his presence than going home and resting. 

“Yes professor.” again you three answer in unison. 

“Leave” your professor orders. You are about to turn your heels when he orders again, “Y/N, I need to talk to you. You two leave.” You catch Sunmi rolling her eyes at you.

Your heart reacts faster than your mind. It starts to beat menacingly in an instant and you don't know how to act normal. You can’t really wrap your head around the fact that you are getting a piece of time to spend alone with the man of your dreams, your guilty pleasure, your forbidden desire, Kim Namjoon. You are so lost in your head that you didn’t even notice that Namjoon has been ogling your exposed legs. However, he soon composes himself and clears his voice to claim your attention.  

“Y/N… I didn’t expect that from you.” His voice is mixed with disappointment and anger, maybe? 

First of all, this is the first time in two semesters’ time, he has called you by your first name only, no suffix or prefix to burden the weight. Secondly, you don’t know why but, him being angry with you sends tingles down your spine. It definitely should not be like this. Had it been any other time, you would have probably sulked or cried your eyes out because you disappointed your mentors but…. This time it’s different. This time it's Namjoon. 

You don’t say anything in your defense. You know Namjoon understood that you did the entire project alone the very moment he read it, when it was supposed to be a “group” project. You are no better than your partners. You were on your way to give them free points for your own selfish needs. So, you hang your head low, avoiding his eyes. 

He marches towards where you are standing and comes to stand right in front of you. 

You curse at the proximity he has chosen to tease you with. 

“sorry, professor” you apologize with your small voice. 

“I think you are intelligent enough to know that your apology will not be enough, Y/N” he breathes out. The anger and disappointment in his voice are now gone, now those are replaced by something akin to darkness. 

“Professor, I-” You are immediately interrupted as Namjoon puts his index finger below your chin and tilts your face up to make you meet his eyes. Another round of shivers run down your spine as you perceive his siren eyes and the looming mischief in them. 

“Don’t you think you deserve some punishment?” Namjoon takes a step towards you as you take a step back. 

“You have been acting like a bad girl lately-” another step.

“-bad girls deserve punishment and I knows how to treat brats like you.” your ass comes into contact with the first row of desks. With blown out pupils you stare at your professor and try to comprehend the meaning behind his words. He, on the other hand, seems to be enjoying the way you are already submitting yourself to him. 

“Profe–” he cuts you off again, 

“Shhh– turn around” he orders and you comply without sparing a second thought. Your morals and rationality have feld through the open window long ago. 

You turn around and stand back-facing him. He places one of his giant hands on your shoulder and lowers your upper body down enough to perk your ass up. Your heart thumps as if it would burst out of your chest any given moment. Anticipation of what might happen in the very next moment, makes you leak. For a moment you think that you are dreaming. There is no way your daydreams are taking the shape of reality, you ain’t that lucky. But the next moment, you are proved wrong, when you feel Namjoon’s rough hands brushing right below your skirt’s hem. He bunches your skirt up and reveals the supple flesh of your perked ass. One of his palms creases down your butt through the thin material of your panty. He hooks two of his fingers on the hem of your underwear and pulls that down in an instant. 

And before you could accept the fact that you are now butt-naked in front of your hot professor, thinking of whom you hit your high every other night, a tight slap lands on your right ass. You yelp, eyes start stinging with tears right away. 

“For working on the entire project alone.” Namjoon groans.  

“Fuck” you curse out loud. 

Another slap lands at the same spot. “For concentrating more on my arms and thighs than the white board.” You gasp for air. 

Another slap. “For wearing these short skirts and driving me crazy.” 

Fuck, did you really drive him crazy? 

The last slap lands on the same spot. “For making me do something so forbidden.” 

You are drooling, both by mouth and cunt, by the end of the spanking session. Namjoon massages the fat of your ass as his other hand travels towards your cunt. He drags his slender fingers through your slit once and then parts your folds to gain access to your clit. You start to breathe heavily but stay still and let him do whatever he pleases. 

“Tell me to stop before I do something wrong, Y/N” his thick voice causes you to leak more. 

“No. don’t stop. I- I have wanted you, professor, for a long time now.” 

“You nasty little slut, do you think it’s okay to fancy your professor like this?” Namjoon says through his gritted teeth. All the while, his fingers probe into your cunt bringing a delicious friction and stretch with them.

“Fuck! So tight!” Namjoon exclaims. The more he discovers your tightness, the more his nails dig into your ass. 

You moan some incoherent curses and those arouse Namjoon even more. 

“You like it, don’t you? You like being corrupted? By the professor you desire? Hmm? A model student like you but so nasty inside?” He says with his husky voice. 

“Yes, professor. For you, only for yo-ah fuck” Your head starts to spin when he scissors his digits and stretch your walls even more. 

“For me? Yeah? Then do you want my cock?” he presses his thumb on your clit. 

“Yes. please.” you choke out, and that’s the confirmation Namjoon needed. He removes his hands from your body once for unbuckling his belt and setting his cock free. Once the deed is done, he slaps his thick meat on your ass. And fuck, you never knew you had so much of juice left inside of you cause you are leaking again. 

“Spread your legs.” he orders and you comply. 

He enters you bit by bit. At first it's just the tip and then he is half inside and then he is balls deep into you. The stretch is dreamy, far better than what you imagined and you want it all. 

“Should I move now?” His considerate voice makes your heart flutter and that’s a territory you don’t want to cross. You nod and he slams his hip into you. 

You arch your back. Namjoon wraps his hand on your waist to keep you in place as he starts thrusting into you mercilessly. 

The desk starts shaking violently but he doesn’t stop, neither do you want him to. You don’t even care if anyone is hearing you two doing things you definitely should not. With a vice-like thrust he hits your g-spot and your cream his cock without any warning. 

“Fuckfuckfuck” namjoon curses as he struggles to keep the pace. You know he is close as well. He pulls out his cock and cums all over your ass. His cum drips down the globe of your ass down your thighs and the scene alone makes him wanna fuck you again. However, he is a man of control. 

He let the beast out once and that should be enough. He knows you are a forbidden fruit and he should not touch you ever again. But the question is, can he contain himself? Especially when you turn around and seal your soft, sweet lips into a tempting kiss while both of you are still naked enough to start fucking again? Especially when you are so willing to be ruined by him and the bad boy in him roars to life. 

✨✨✨✨

[jd-vance-official]

Not JD Vance here, just the intern they hire to run this account: I am a transgender person. For several years, I hemmed and hawed about changing my legal name or amending my birth certificate with a new sex marker... but I didn't. I could see the writing on the wall in the future. As far as documents are concerned, I am not transgender, which is obviously not true to my identity and presents its own challenges, namely safety and healthcare, but it has also proved extremely helpful to myself in the past few weeks.

Increasingly, there are many trans people in the U.S reporting that they are not allowed to have passports with their new sex on them because they are trans, yet simultaneously not allowed to have passports with their old sex on them because then, the passports wouldn't match their birth certificates. If you didn't have a passport already (valid for 10 years), people in this limbo may be blocked from getting one now. But even then, there are fears that existing passports can be revoked.

In the US, birth certificates and photo ID like driver licenses are issued by the states, while passports are issued by the feds. I live in a mixed-but-blue (democrat) leaning state, as do majority of Americans. If I had elected to change my state-issued docs to reflect my preferred sex, as is perfectly legal and accommodated in my state, I would now have extreme difficulties because of the federal regulations.

I absolutely don't mean to say that I am better than anyone, smarter for having this foresight. Instead, this is all to highlight that there are deep inequities in the united states, and this issue is a clear example of how state sovereignty is being threatened in the United States. I would go further to argue that these inequities prove that the state-and-federal separation model is, ironically, undemocratic and directly fails people globally. But I digress.

It's not just trans people in the United States with these issues. It is Black people. Disabled People. People on government poverty assistance. Undocumented people. Some states allow undocumented people, people who are in the US "illegally", to have a driver's license! Some states don't. You can imagine how not being able to operate a vehicle legally -- in the guns, burgers, and car capital of the world -- might pose a disastrous outlook on some families.

To all international onlookers of the United States fuckery right now, please know that we are scared and many of us genuinely believe it is unsafe here. Some of us cannot get passports and cannot have safe passage out of our country. Please help us fight this.

Girl with a pending passport application was denied.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/travel/2025/01/24/trump-order-passports-x-gender/#:~:text=According%20to%20Rubio%E2%80%99s%20email%3A%20%E2%80%9CGuidance%20on%20existing%20passports%20containing%20an%20X%20sex%20marker%20will%20come%20via%20other%20channels.%E2%80%9D

Many are concerned current passports will be voided. The White House may say that the ruling only affects new passports and not existing passports - The White House has been known to lie. Regulation and law can be executive order-itized, as 47 has been happy to flex recently.

[eldritch-sanctum]

Things I want to happen/contemplating to happen in my Greed fic:

Greed is able to do alchemy but of course is best at carbon manipulation. His favorite thing is to turn coal into diamonds.

Pride grows up and does become an alchemist too. Greed doesn't trust Pride at first but knows that Pride is the only one he knows who has felt alienated among humans in the way he knows.

Greed and Ling are separated eventually because sharing a brain risk losing their individuality. The implication is that if they stayed too long together, they might eventually merge into one being.

There is a problem going on in a province that Ling cannot deal with, and Greed just walks in there and does some amazing trickster bullshit to solve it.

This is the incident that gets people seeing him as a possibly divine hero.

Ling cannot hide Greed for long in Xing because someone is going to bring up that he feels like the qi equivalent of a stinky neutron star.

This forces Ling to have to explain Greed, but it's kept a secret until Greed is separated. After that, at first people think Ling just has a body double around, then people find said body double doing preternatural things and then wonder if he's a shapeshifting spirit-demon that is also somehow a great font of concentrated, rotten qi.

Ling of course is like "yeah he's mine, get used to it."

There is a period of time where Greed does flex people's perception of him as some kind of weird spirit that can manifest right there and then. He has shown up in random places to random people and gives advice, then run off. He likes to give diamonds to people just to see the greed in their eyes.

More under the cut:

During this time, he saves a kid's life and turns their shitty life around. Later on said kid grows up to be his priest and does things like collecting offerings from various shrines to give them to Greed.

Ling and Lan Fan do get married and have kids. Greed helped raise them a lot.

After Ling's death, Greed becomes much more depressed, it's worse because of the way Ling died of old age. Greed always had issues with accepting love, but he was able to suppress them at times or shove them aside when doing shenanigans, but it would always be there. Then those feelings become front and center after that.

His character development after draws inspiration from the alchemical steps to creating the philosopher's stone: the blackening (dissolution), whitening (purification), yellowing (enlightening), and reddening (completion). This is meant to show that Greed achieves what Father could not, not to become a perfect being though...

But to actually become a god.

Maybe it was less that the people saw him as a god, and more that they wanted him to become a god or thought he would be a god eventually?

Idk how this happens but the final transformation happens with his Gate of Truth, maybe something like merging with it? And then the souls trapped in him are released and his body dissolves.

[johnnycakesswitch]

- Soda is SEVERELY claustrophobic. Like he CANNOT handle it. He’s so used to movement and bouncing on the walls and running around. But when he’s in a super tight space he flips his lid.

- Elevators simply are off the table, he takes the stairs every time even if it’s multiple flights.

- Even really small cars are a no go for him unless he has his damn head out the window like a dog.

- he gets super pale and clammy and he shakes so bad. (I feel like soda shakes ALOT, if not from restlessness it’s anxiety or emotion of some kind. He’s got very unsteady hands)

- Once Soda was getting something from the hall closet and Dally and two bit shut it and locked him in (as a joke they did NOT know that Soda was that badly claustrophobic) and the freak out panic attack Soda had still rivals Ponyboys worse night terrors.

- it was the most angry they’ve ever seen Darry to this day.

Ok now ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between I present to you. Stevepop.

- They’re the kings of pet names. It’s canon because I SAID SO

Soda is partial to ‘honey’, ‘babe’, ‘hon’, ‘Stevie’, ‘my boy’ ‘baby’ and when he’s feeling silly ‘muscles’ or ‘Hercules’

Steve (who I actually feel like uses them WAYYYY more, he rarely ever calls Soda his name) is a user of ‘sweetheart’, ‘doll’, ‘baby doll’, ‘baby’, ‘pretty’, and on occasion (ONLY WHEN THEY’RE ALONE) ‘darlin’

- Steve is the Soda whisperer. He is the first the see when Soda is overstimulated or upset or insecure, he’s the first to recognize when Soda’s having a hard time reading or doing something and is the best as taking attention off him without making it obvious

- that being said Soda can make Steve smile no matter how sad or angry he’s feeling. He can always make Steve laugh or cool off quickly but without blowing off what make Steve upset in the first place

- Steve NEVER cries, very rarely. Soda cries a minimum of twice a day. Roadkill? Sad. Old man by himself at a restaurant? Distraught. He’s very sympathetic and very emotionally intelligent which means he’s a very sensitive boy.

- Steve purposely flexes for Soda and it makes Ponyboy want to crawl into a hole and die

- Ponyboy once walked into their room and found Soda and Steve asleep, cuddling in their bed and literally was in tears when he went to Darry about it

Ponyboy: “they’re doing it in our bed! 😭😢”

Darry, thinking something else: “WHAT?!”

Ponyboy: “Soda let Steve cuddle him in OUR bed 😭😭”

Darry: 😐😑

- Sometimes Steve purposely kissed Soda or grabs him by the waist when Ponyboys watching just because he things Pony’s reactions are funny

- and then the next day he’s buying the kid cokes and snacks and showing him how the jump a car battery at the DX

These are all so good 🗣️🗣️🗣️ but wait let me focus on that first one for a second I really like that. It makes so much sense tbh, he would hate feeling confined. I feel like as much as it seems like it wouldn’t make sense, I think he would like deep pressure in situations like this like he would want someone to hold him really tight. Something about the *controlled* confinement vs being stuck somewhere he normally wouldn’t be would help him relax. If he’s ever feeling claustrophobic, Steve or his brothers will hug him super tight around his waist and it usually helps him stay calm at least a little. I can definitely see him having unsteady hands too, that just works for him :( and side note, he totally would stick his head out the car like a dog 😭😭😭 he’d stick it tongue out and everything too you’d drive by Soda in a car and he’s just like 😛 out the window

And I love all those stevepop hcs. Everyone needs to send me more. I love yalls perspective on them. They absolutely ABUSE pet names it’s so bad but like it’s them so it’s okay. And Steve can totally read Soda better than anyone else, sometimes he knows what mood Soda’s in before Soda himself can even process it. And Soda being able to always make Steve smile 🥺 I love that everyone hcs Soda as being such a crier it’s basically canon atp, even if he’s happy this boy will cry, he’s just got a lot of big feelings 😔 Steve flexing for Soda is so on brand and Soda just eats it up too they’re terrible 😭 Ponyboy is SCARRED by their behavior 😒 if Stevepop is cuddling in bed Steve has to lay on Soda’s side and Soda has to lay on Pony’s side bc Soda knows Pony will not lay in bed if he knew Steve was on his side 💀

[i-dont-know-what-im-doing-2024]

Workout Tips for beginners/chronic pain

For those of you who don’t know me I am trans and physically disabled (also autistic and have anxiety and depression and ptsd) anyway working out has been something that was totally off the table for me for a long time but lately my energy and motivation have improved somewhat as well as my dysphoria being worse which has made me want to try to working out again.

This legitimately isn’t a post I ever thought I’d be making but being pre T and closeted it felt like the only thing I could do to have some control over my body and I really wanted to try. It took me a couple of months after first getting the idea to actually feel like I was in a place to try and as well as finding a good program. I really didn’t want to put money into this especially because I had no idea how it would go, I’m currently on my second week of working out so I thought I’d share some advice for anyone else in a similar position.

Also, as a disclaimer, not everyone with chronic pain or other disabilities can exercise and there’s definitely been times when I also couldn’t so this purely for people who are in a place where they want to and are safe to try.

- Balance is everything, I say this as a total hypocrite just to be clear but if you haven’t worked out in a long time (I would say it’s been around three years for me) you can’t expect to go super hard right away

- Don’t worry about speed or reps or anything like that, doing your best is the most important thing and trying to take that pressure off yourself helps

- Honestly do fewer reps, shorter times, modify or substitute exercises, skip certain things- none of that is a big deal even if it feels like it is and whether you can do some of it later or not it’s okay

- I don’t see physical results yet which isn’t a surprise but I can feel more muscles when I flex my stomach which is cool and even after a week and a half with a lot of rest days I can do more than I could at the beginning

- Low impact is still a hard workout and it is much easier on your body, highly recommend for people with chronic pain

- Now one of the most important things I’ve learned is that I do not have the option of not warming up and doing cool down stretches, my body cannot handle it if I skip those steps which unfortunately makes everything take so much longer but again for anyone with chronic pain it’s probably better to cut down the harder bits and do a warm up and cool down

- The one time I did skip cool down stretches because I had errands to run and thought walking around would be enough I couldn’t sit or stand up straight the next day because I was in so much pain and the muscles in my hips and legs hurt so badly I had to take a break for several days

- I’ve also found that doing full body stretches after working out significantly reduces pain the next day (at least for me) to the point where after a week of working out I feel more sore than in proper pain

- If certain exercises are too much for your body skip them or do another exercise instead, the pain really isn’t worth it and it’s way too easy to injure yourself or cause a flare up

- Sometimes you can do exercises at the beginning but can’t do multiple reps, I’m serious about listening to your body, especially if you’re disabled. I pushed myself a bit too hard today and managed to hurt my wrist and neck (wrist because I did too many workouts in a plank position and the weight on my wrists was too much, neck from crunch type exercises that strain my neck which can cause headaches/migraines the next day)

- Not related to physical disability but I have some demand avoidance tendencies and personally not telling anyone in my life I’m doing it has been one of the most helpful things in not having to deal with external pressure or expectations (I know for other people outside accountability helps so it just depends on what helps you)

- If money is a concern or you’re not sure if you’ll be able to be consistent long term just working out in underwear is a good option, also there are tons of different types of free bodyweight workouts on YouTube, the only thing I’ve bought so far has been a mat

- Onto the next point, get a mat, preferably s as thick exercise mat with a lot of cushion and not a yoga mat. I didn’t realize there was a difference but there absolutely is and for me having more cushion makes a huge difference on my joints

- I personally have been doing Chloe Ting because I’ve seen a lot of people with a lot of different body types get results after being consistent and because after trying it for a week I feel stronger. That being said they’re also not easy and I have made a lot of adjustments and had to take breaks after causing flare ups but all these tips have helped me find more sustainable ways to exercise instead of doing it once and burning out

- I don’t do explicit cardio EVER, I have tachycardia and get dizzy and lightheaded really easily so even doing bodyweight exercises and low impact my heart rate ranges from 150bpm-180bpm the entire time with breaks.

- Also, drinking lots of water is supposed to be good, I don’t track it but I try to stay hydrated and it probably helps

- Prioritize sleep if you’re able to

- Hot showers after working out also help me manage muscle pain

- Finally for food I’ve been trying not to eat unless I’m actually hungry as I have a habit of eating if I’m bored and trying to incorporate more healthy food into my life rather than cutting anything out. Also healthy being subjective, I’m trying to eat healthier than I used to but that still isn’t like tons of salad and veggies and stuff so whatever you can do is fine

- I’m definitely not following all these myself but I’m working on it and trying to improve

[elliewiltarwyn]

how are ellie, mia, and lilyana doing in arcadion? having fun, stressing out, secret third thing, secreter fourth thing? isk if ive seen you post about it yet... but if not consider this a loose writing prompt?

i thought i had posted something but turns out nope it's just in the one scrivener doc of random notes and even then it was just the barest hint of something lol. so thank you for prompting! <3

I had that hint of something but not many details, so this is the result of more thinking about the Arcadion storyline than I ever thought I was gonna do (i was just along for the crazy-ass fights before, but now i'm legit invested in and hooked by the actual story?? wild lol).

but one thing I know for sure is Ellie is in for the fights and the show of it all from the beginning...

This got long, as expected, so under the cut:

I don't think she's aimless in Dawntrail and she's finding some purpose in mentoring Lamaty'i, but she's definitely getting a little antsy after defeating Sphene and mulling over the key with Y'shtola. so when doug dimmadome owner of the dimmsdale dimmadome Metem approaches her, she realizes she's been slacking a little in exercising that muscle that only two people have ever really gotten her to flex: Zenos and Gulool Ja Ja. By this point, she's come to terms with sharing love for the thrill of the battle with Zenos. So if this dude's offering a no-stakes environment to test her limits, and people are going to cheer for her to do so? she is pumped and ready.

and I don't think she's just turning down the regulator, she refuses to accept even the slim justification for other MMO players - none of the girls are impressed by the soul economy of Alexandria and they all vowed to never use them like that. I think she just says straight up to Metem "I don't want them, I don't need them, and don't you dare hold them hostage on my account, just release them anyway if I win." She'll go it solo or not at all. Metem protests "No, you really cannot stand toe-to-toe with them without help of some kind! Do you maybe have any friends who could accompany you? We could sell that as a team with an unbreakable bond!"...

(and there's my slim justification for working Mia and Lily into it. if the Arcadion audience can accept "one warrior backed up by seven 'soul simulacra' of previous champions" then they can accept a 3v1+ lol)

...Mia is not happy about it. She did her time on the Ul'dahn bloodsands, and she hated it there too. She was tired of fighting and wanted to retire after Endwalker, and even moreso after Dawntrail. She promised herself she'd only fight again if there was a good reason to, and while she did help Wuk Lamat with the succession (happily) and the conflict with Alexandria (reluctantly), "her wife diving headfirst into the deep end against superpowered tournament rivals" might not actually clear that bar.

This... becomes a point of contention between Ellie and Mia and they have a massive fight the likes of which haven't been seen since the days of their rivalry, except now it's worse because they're married now and poor Lily's stuck in the middle. Lily has no objections to fighting and loves Ellie too much to let her go solo, and Mia loves Lily too much to not want to protect her from any consequences of Ellie's hubris. Mia agrees to fight too, but she makes it clear it's for Lily's sake and she's still furious at Ellie for forcing her into this situation, and now all of them feel like shit, with a hefty amount of guilt on Ellie's part.

That guilt spurs Ellie to at least take the vanguard so their foes are focusing on her.* They go in as the holy MMO trinity: Ellie takes up her dark knight greatsword again (guilt is a powerful fuel for darkness!!), Mia uses sage soumanotics, and Lily mixes up rogue, ninja, and pictomancer abilities. Despite Mia being furious with them, she saves their asses several times over and they easily claim the Light-heavyweight championship.

and then Eutrope barrels in and changes everything. now there's three super-dense souls for her to hone in on. bam, Mia has her reason to fight. Ellie has her justification for testing herself and thrillseeking. Lily's here to pet other cats and stab people who look at her wives funny.

This isn't gonna let Ellie off the hook with Mia, though, because it's not like they knew all that shit going in. They're definitely going to need to have a talk about their emotions. 🥲

*in reality I'm doing em as a melee (going monk this tier 💪) but by this point I'm also not inexperienced at tanking Arcadion lol

-----

I'm still mulling over how Cruiserweight advances all of that aside from giving Lily even more cats to pet. But I think there's juice in at least matching Ellie's readiness to fight against Hector's and Retsarra's. mwehehe. we're definitely getting to the point of "if anyone touches another hair on these children we will kill everyone in the room and then not ourselves because we're better than that" too, and maybe even needling this wet blonde catboy for fumbling Eutrope so hard lol.

Details still brewing, but hopefully this answers your question with...I'm pretty sure this is "secret third thing" :V

[mudandmire]

wanna cut out both your eyes

….I should not be held responsible for what happens when I listen to Glass Animals.

So. There ya go. A firefighter, a boxer - one pulls the punches and pays the price.

...

The boxing ring exchanges hands when the sun goes down. A slip of marigold satin on the horizon, the final blink of the suns round eye before it disappears completely. Eris watches it from the floor to ceiling windows in the third floor of the gym. Each descending shade of indigo, painted on the blank stares of the office buildings across the street.

There's still a sticky trace of sweat along his back and face. He's sure the ring behind him remains secretly streaked with the culmination of his and his opponents earlier fights.

All he'd done to soothe the agitating itch of it was rub a wet towel over his body. It had to be enough, there was no point in showering—he wasn't yet done tonight.

Eris wraps his hands. Methodical and practiced to the point of perfection. He doesn't even glance at his slowly clearing reflection in front of him.

As the last breaths of day sink, and an encroaching dusk comes to share it's space, Eris' eyes lock onto a figure on the sidewalk below.

A mere silhouette under the fluorescent spotlight of the streetlamp, carrying a duffle bag at his side. Eris can only see the top of his head; dark, before he disappears inside the building. The gym is practically deserted now, and the top floor stays empty. Yet Eris cannot help but think that for this, even the walls grow ears.

If it were cold out, Eris' shuddering exhale would fog onto the window. His wrapped hands tense at his sides, mimicking the tension lining his shoulders under the thin hoodie he wears. Despite continuing to face the window, he turns every sense toward the door behind him. He knows how long—in seconds, in feet, in the rapid, anxious knocking of his pulse—it takes for someone to get from ground level to the third floor of the gym.

Specifically; how long it takes Azriel.

Even though he's been there for hours now, Eris feels the change as soon as the fluorescents overheard become the primary source of light. It's his ring, his stage, when the sun is up. As if asking for one last confirmation that it'll return to him tomorrow, Eris taps one of his wrapped knuckles against the window.

When the sun sets, and the ring is empty apart from the one lonely soul that haunts it—it belongs to Azriel.

A shiver rolls down his spine like beads of sweat at the sound of footsteps down the hall. Then, right in front of the door when it opens.

"I'm on call." Azriel says, and it may as well have been the first hit thrown between them.

Eris pinches at his taped hands, "you can spare me an hour," he says.

The itch of his skin beneath the wraps is unpleasant with dried sweat and a tender soreness growing from the joints like roots.

The duffle bag drops at his feet, the only sound between them before Azriel says lowly. "I'd give you the whole night," and then pauses, even the sound of his rifling through the gym bag stops. "Ask me to."

Azriel asks because he knows Eris won't answer—not that one.

It takes him a deep inhale before he's ready to turn around.

Back to the window, to the night shuttered city that crawls out of view of his reflection, Eris' eyes find him.

Every time, he wishes it was easier.

Azriel's shirt is halfway off, rising up the expanse of bronzed skin. The flex of his arms when it comes away from him completely makes Eris' stomach plunge. Every part of Azriel is hewn, hand carved with the kind of underlying strength that comes from hard work. Eris thinks if they ended up locked in this room, he wouldn't even break a sweat with worry. The breadth of his shoulders are enough to make the thick wooden door with a thin slit for a window look like soft clay.

Indulging in his trailing thoughts, Eris' eyes fall to Azriel's hands—scarred horribly from a fire long ago. It's not the kind of scarring one can easily look away from, it demands attention. Every ridge whitened and tight, a mottled patchwork of scraped and clumsily chiseled marble.

He still finds it ironic—a completely different kind of illness—that Azriel turned to firefighting in the face of it.

Maybe that's what some people call courage, bravery in the face of challenge.

Eris calls it madness. Not even the good kind.

Azriel begins to wrap his hands, a diligent silence taking over the two of them as he twines and tucks with single-minded focus that proves how much he's done this. The muscles in his exposed forearms flex as he works—Eris looks away quickly, keeping his gaze fixed on the empty ring.

It's a near dangerous thing, watching Azriel work. Eris has found his attention pried up by the roots again and again just to focus on him.

The fabric is between Azriel's teeth as he tugs it taut on his hands. Eris finds the skin of his bottom lip pinched between two fingers as he catches Azriel's dark eyes from under the fan of his sooty lashes. A direct contrast to the bearing of his teeth: pearl white, sharp points at his canines—Eris hopes he draws blood tonight.

He walks forward, ducking under the boxing ropes and padding barefoot onto the canvas. Shaking out his fingers, he doesn't glance over his shoulder where Azriel is. The charge pulses through him, from the non-slip canvas to the windows and back—body attentive to where Azriel is. It's a magnetic forcefield, how Eris' bends apart when Azriel's bends forward, the opposite draw addicting as it is frustrating.

This is ritual; this place, this time, this silence.

Until Azriel, as always, breaks it.

He levers the boundary ropes up, the underside of his arms tensing. Eris strips off his thin hoodie, heat building under the surface of his skin like a fever.

"You pulling punches today, Vanserra?" Azriel's stance is low. Balanced and ready even as his shoulders stay loose and his dark eyes glint with the hint of a fight coming on the wind—a storm brewing on the horizon.

Eris scoffs. "Don't count on it."

Banter has no room in his head. The ring's turned over it's hand, it belongs to Azriel now and Eris is going to have to work twice as hard to keep his feet beneath him tonight. A pleasant buzz hums through his worked muscles, biting at the bit for a challenge.

Eris raises his hands, positioning them in a way so innate he does it without thinking.

"Come here," he says, and then his mouth goes dry. Eris swallows hard, trying to find words to follow up with what sounds like an invitation, a plea, yet comes up empty.

Azriel doesn't give him time to, anyway. He's on call, the stopwatch had already started. The ring belongs to him in the meantime.

There's a flash of a grin, tucked behind raised fists, near feral. Eris is given a minute to appreciate the fall of his raven hair over his forehead before Azriel strikes.

Strike is a good word for it: cleaving from heaven to ground in a split second.

Eris molds his body effortlessly into a slip. Turning his head and shoulders away to dodge it quickly, but is back up, coming around with his left arm for a swing at Azriel's side.

Though he absorbs it, his arms coming up to shell the sensitive muscle and skin of the side of his abdomen. Azriel shoots him one, quick flicker of a grin, before it disappears behind the shutter of his concentration.

From there, it devolves. Eris had learned over the years, and many, many won fights, that he strikes like a snake. Quick and decisive, unpredictable unless his opponents eyes are keen enough to spot the tells. His fist lashes out, body coming in for a follow-through, and a poisonous pain sinks into every sensitive, tender part of the skin he makes contact with.

Planning his steps comes easy when he can debilitate someone's lungs with a well-placed blow—leave them gasping, leave him circling like a vulture.

With Azriel, it is entirely different. If he is a snake, then Azriel is a wolf. Wild with the way he strikes out, the force behind him something that would snap Eris' bones if he wasn't experienced. He does not keep his arms to his body, does not mind if tender, vulnerable places are hit—just continues to advance, teeth bared, snarl on his face and a bloodlust in his eyes that Eris is ashamed to find time and again, leaves a firm impression in his shorts.

Eris manages to block one of Azriel's blows, but it rattles up the bone in his arm. He grimaces through it, coming back up to roll into his next punch, keeping most of the force on his back leg instead of letting it power through his swing.

Azriel parries easily, eyes narrowing into a glare even as he pants hard through his mouth.

"Don't," he grunts, arms coming to cover up his face in the second of rest, the muscles in his lower abdomen tightening. "Give it to me, Vanserra."

"Christ." Eris' breath leaves him in a rush of strength as he aims low and punches hard. His chest is heaving, slick with sweat. The only consolation is that Azriel seems to be just as out-of-breath as he is. The dew of exhaustion on his bronze skin glints like gemstones. It should not be as attractive, distracting, as it is.

The next breath between them is used up entirely in a quick series of movements. A force of push and pull where Eris has Azriel on the defense, until a well-timed slip leads him to grasp at his throbbing ribs.

It must be anger, or something deeper that burns low in his stomach, flushing his cheeks bright. Eris strikes out, sure and strong, grunting low with effort as he catches Azriel in the chin through a feint. The throb of his knuckles irrelevant in the face of Azriel's gleaming, dark eyes.

One of his hands leaves position guarding his chest, and reaches up to thumb away a drop of blood beading at the cut on his slack mouth.

"There," he says. Eris stumbles a step when the thumb and the droplet disappears between his lips.

He tries to regain control over his breathing, the tightening at the base of his spine. Tries not to think of where else Azriel could say that—how else. The brush of a split lip on the shell of his ear, Azriel's hard-won pants of air pooling warm in the hollow of his gleaming collarbones.

Azriel's head tips, stomach swelling with each breath he takes, and through his parted mouth he clicks his tongue.

"Head," he grunts as he swings, Eris barely managing to dodge it, "in the ring."

It shakes him enough to grit down on the rising tide of coal-hot desire, seamlessly falling into a series of movements so quick he could've missed one for the other if he didn't know Azriel so well. Every time he moves, it's with a pained breath of effort. The spot on his side that Azriel had so expertly targeted and won with it's yellow and green blooms of bruises, aches and stings against his ribs.

He must've stumbled, or gotten distracted by the sharp twist of the tender skin at his side. Eris doesn't know what he had faltered on, feet or hands or head. Next thing he knows Azriel has two large, hot palms on the back of his thighs, feet no longer touching the floor. His face is close for a second, features nearer than they have been the whole night. Azriel's eyes are glazed when he looks at him through the pinch of his dark eyebrows and bared teeth.

The ground meets Eris' back with a sound like thunder. Every breath, every inch of air looses from his lungs with a hollow gasp and his wrapped hands digging his nails into the sweat-slicked skin of Azriel's back. The pain doesn't register, not before the all-consuming feeling of suffocation that molds him in between his empty lungs and Azriel's heavy, hot, looming weight.

Knuckles red, raw, he digs his fingers in further to the muscle of Azriel's shoulder blades and relishes the hiss that slips from his pink lips. A dull ache spreads up from his spine to his shoulders and down to his tailbone. Eris' head tips back, features crumpled in what may have looked like pain if he weren't burning alive, skin stuck to the canvas floor.

The spread of Azriel's shoulders between his pale thighs sends his pulse into a furious thrum. Bronze and glazed like pottery, every crease of muscle and skin wears like the finest finish and Eris finds himself struggling to swallow.

When he does get his breath back, it's to glare straight up into Azriel's hazel eyes and heave out a breathless, "cheater."

Azriel's mouth tightens, dark brows furrowed into a shadow over his lidded eyes. The molten press of his palms, even through the wraps, says everything about his disappointment Eris couldn't see through his shuttered gaze. They follow a pre-determined path; one stays on his side, the bruised one, where his fingers rest in between the slots of his heaving rib cage. The other wanders, a teasing brush here and there, down the sweat-slick skin of his stomach, the sensitive strip above the waistline of his shorts, when it finally stops to rest at his hip. Pressing down slightly in warning.

"What did I say, Eris?" He asks, looming closer until his thighs are stuck to the backs of Eris'.

Eris finally finds use for his hands. Where they had dug trenches into Azriel's back, they take a particular kind of vengeance in the damp locks of his raven hair.

"You brute," he says, a scratch in his voice, "you must get tired of repeating your braindead demands." His fingers had curled into the hair at the base of his neck, where he tugs hard enough to send a tendon feathering in Azriel's dewy jaw.

Silence rings in place of it, but Azriel's hand moves quickly further down on his ribs until the weight of his palm presses hard on the blossoming, tender bruise on his side.

Eris holds in a whine, his fingers going limp then tightening in the span of the hard kick of his heart against his chest.

"I—" a whimper slips out of the loosening iron control over his mouth, "go to hell."

The pressure on the contusion increases, Eris' lungs working hard to take short, shallow breaths.

His hands fly away from the safety of Azriel's hair, mussed and carded like he had been fucked well. They land like startled birds at his shoulder, the flexed muscle of his bicep as he presses down.

"I could do this until I get called into the station." He says easily, head tipping to watch Eris writhe. "But then we'd both go home losers tonight. It's really up to you."

Eris gasps, mouth wet and parted even as he grits out, "maybe I wouldn't mind that, seeing as I could nullify your victory—"

"No, Eris, this isn't my victory."

The pressure lessens slightly, the heartbeat of the tender ache crying out in relief as Azriel pulls back just enough for Eris' to breathe fully. His lids blink heavily up at him, dazed and stinging.

A calloused, scarred thumb rubs gentle circles on the soft skin of his hip. "Now, what did I say?" He asks again.

Through the fire in his belly, the smoke in his head, Eris finds it in himself to arch wildly into Azriel's solid frame. Making every effort to dislodge him even as his cheeks flush a rosy pink up to his ears.

"Oh, absolutely fuck you." He spits, nails digging crescents into the meat of his shoulders.

Azriel doesn't dignify him with a response. Instead he bends in closer and Eris' thighs are forced wider from it—it distracts him enough that he doesn't notice when the hand on his hip comes to circle his neck. Heavy like a marble necklace, but Azriel's skin is rough, warm, and then the pressure returns to the contusion on his side and Eris' head falls back hard enough he can hear the noise of it echo in his skull.

The fingers don't tighten, but the threat of them has heat spilling down the line of his spine, pooling at the base of it.

"What did I say?" Azriel's demand is stone in the face of Eris' disobedience. His eyes dark with the pupil expanded wide enough Eris can barely make out the lingering ring of hazel around it. Despite his cool features, barely a wince passing across his face even as Eris' nails mark him bloody. Eris watches the controlled heave of his chest, his stomach, and finds that he wants the barely leashed power pressed against him.

"You, fuck," it comes out breathless, rushed, as pain licks along his warming side. "You said don't hold my punches back."

Azriel leans more weight onto the hand against his ribs. "Exact words." He says quietly.

"I—Azriel, God, wait—you said," he wets his lips, panting, a hand circling Azriel's wrist though making no effort to move it. "You said to give it to you."

He hums approvingly, shifting his knees where they're red pressed to the canvas floor. "Could've had me on my ass three times by now, but you didn't. Wanna know why?"

"Why?" He croaks, a wetness gathering in his eyes he doesn't want to investigate.

"Because you don't listen, do you sweetheart?" His head dips, face parallel to Eris' to the point where he can't choose one eye to focus on—so his gaze falls to his lips instead. A shaking, raw hand coming up to thumb at the bottom lip.

Azriel's breath falls over the touch, warm, shuddering.

"Azriel," the name comes from the very base of his stomach where the urge to taste his mouth comes roiling up his spine with a vengeance.

A sharp ringing cuts through the haze in his head. So loud he thinks at first he's imagining it, or it's a siren from outside.

It's only when Azriel's whole body tenses, and his head falls to rest on Eris' chest that he understands what it is.

"Shit." Azriel swears into the dip between his pectorals quietly, but with no less vehemence.

"That wasn't—" Eris' trembling hand falls to his hair. "That's not an hour."

"Yeah, well, tell my boss." Azriel grunts as he begins to move away. Peeling the heated press of his weight and presence from Eris' own body like a horribly stuck band-aid. He keeps a whine tucked behind his teeth even as the corners of his brows pinch upwards.

Azriel's shoulders duck out and away from in between his thighs, and his eyes near wet with frustration as the air conditioned cold of the room seeps into his warmed skin. His legs fold without him there, pressing together as if that will restore the heat lost. It's then, almost an accident, that Eris discovers the culmination of every touch and word from Azriel as a firm afterthought in his gym shorts.

The outline of it rankles him. The fact that it's his hand and not Azriel's that sweeps down the plane of his abdomen, sweat-cooled and tacky.

Azriel had crawled out from under the boundary ropes to look at his pager—at least that's what Eris thought.

A harsh, scarred hand grabs his before it can reach the hem of his shorts. Eris' eyes snap open, darting to meet Azriel's crooked mouth and dark eyes.

He ducks low so his lips brush against his ear, halfway out of the ring. "If you touch yourself, I'll make sure to fracture a rib tomorrow." He says.

Unbidden but by the sound of Azriel's voice, the heat seeping into his skin around his wrist, Eris' arches his back with a shameless whine.

His cheeks go pink. "Wait, but—Azriel."

Azriel's hand falls away from his wrist, ducking back out of the ring with a teasing nip to his earlobe.

Dazed, lingering in the sweat gathered on his back and the tender pulsing ache on his side, he watches as Azriel scoops up the handle to his duffle bag, pager in hand.

Eris' brows furrow slightly when he stops before the door.

"And to think," he says, gazing over his shoulder at Eris through the dark soot of his lashes, "we could've both been winners tonight." His grin is sharp, slicing through Eris and burying it's blade in his core.

The door closes with a soft snick behind him, and Eris is left entirely alone again.

An arm comes up to sling over his face as it burns through the heated pulse of arousal under his shorts.

As much as his fingers itch to slip under, find the heat that's been missing since Azriel left, he stops himself.

How would he know?

Eris' head tips back till he faces the ceiling. Black and white patterns and fluorescent lights blinking hollowed images in the back of his eyes.

The answer comes to him easily; as innate as wrapping his hands or slipping into that first stance of a fight.

I would tell him. He thinks.

Again, his head tips back, throat bared and cold in the unforgiving, dry gym air. "Fuck," he says quietly, unable to bring himself to move.

He may just stay here, stuck to the canvas floor in a concoction of lust, shame, and sweat. He may just wait until the sun rises, lightening in soft ribbons over the floor until it hits the boxing ring and Eris knows for certain he can stand on his own. Once the ring turns its hand over to him.

He'll spend the whole day waiting, wishing, for darkness to come quicker so he and the ring can belong to Azriel again.

Tongue darting out to wet his lips, he finds one of his hands pressing against the thundercloud bruise on his side. The hitch in his lungs is half pain, half remembrance.

Nightfall can't come soon enough.

...

This devolved very quickly and I'm not entirely sure where it came from??

But also Glass Animals has the magic juice that makes me write feral things. So maybe it's not entirely out of the blue. Anywayyy hope you enjoyed!!

Also, the song is 'Wonderful Nothing' by Glass Animals 🤌

[suzannahnatters]

TTT Re-read: Book 3, Chs 1-4: Trees Hijack the Plot, And We're Not Even Mad

Ch 1 - THE DEPARTURE OF BOROMIR

so much of TTT is about choices - from Aragorn pulled in three directions at the start to The Choices of Master Samwise at the end. and I think the point is what Gimli says - sometimes no choice is much better than the other and you just have to do what seems right to you. and I've been thinking a lot lately about how resonant that is with the whole task of exercising Christian liberty. it's so hard because how can you know what to choose!!! but then again the choice is very much yours to make, and you have the right to make it.

cannot think of many fantasy books that would spend this much time on a funeral. notably Gandalf doesn't get one.

the dirge for Boromir is beautiful, another top 10 LOTR poetry moment for me, and this time I'm struck that it's very much sung not from the POV of those who were at the battle with him, but the POV of those waiting at home who loved him best. something something Tolkien once again subordinating military exploits and comradeship to the greater end of peace and home.

"forth the three hunters" aaaahhhh I love this chase so much. used to go back and reread this section just because I loved it so much

love Aragorn's choice here - to honour Frodo's agency in taking the initiative himself in going off alone, and to prioritise rescuing the captives. exactly what he should decide.

Ch 2 - The Riders of Rohan

this depiction of the sun rising over Rohan is so beautiful; it also has subtle allusions to the creation account in Genesis 1. you have a world that is formless and void, and then light comes in and performs a sort of creative work on it. the imagery of green rushing across the plains is also reminiscent of the creation passages of THE MAGICIAN'S NEPHEW as well.

regarding Aragorn's ode to Gondor, it strikes me that in a lot of fantasy novels of this sort, there's some kind of prize awaiting the kingly hero, which gets raved up as incredibly desirable and beautiful. in most fantasy stories that prize would be a love interest- but in this book it's a city, a home; not a person; I like that.

this is the only time in the whole legendarium that we get a look at an Elf who is just. very young and very ordinary and constantly just doing Normal Elf Things, like seeing stars far beyond mortal sight. instead of, like...fighting Satan. it's so fun.

not sure I ever fully appreciated it before but the way the Rohirrim enter the narrative is such a flex. they're just showing off consummate skill not only at horsemanship but also at cavalry tactics.

Gimli and Éomer getting into a fight over Galadriel would Too Silly. except that it's also commenting on courtly love tropes in a really fun way so I actually love it.

"a mighty matter of legend" - I know the "good and ill have not changed since yesteryear" is an ageless banger but the "mighty matter of legend" line is also an all time fave.

ahahahaha I had forgotten that it is CANON that Theoden's beef with Gandalf started SPECIFICALLY because Gandalf ran away with the kingdom's shiniest horse

"folks speak with the Lady of the Golden Wood and yet live" - I would LOVE to see RINGS OF POWER Galadriel become terrifying sorceress Galadriel

having a lot of feelings about Éomer right now. have always loved this character dearly and it's because he's so utterly unreserved. he just puts his life in Aragorn's hands, as an act of faith, because he believes that providence has sent these people to Rohan to help them in their hour of need. what a darling.

Ch 3 - The Uruk-Hai

please someone draw Pippin sitting forlornly on a bag carousel at the airport because that's what I'm thinking about now (not you Kelsi you have OTHER THINGS TO DRAW)

TTT CH 3, Or, Everything I Hated About My Time in the Army, by JRR Tolkien

hmmmm this "white-skins" /"swart-skinned" language is worse than I remember, I think Tolkien should have known better than that

military tactics win, #1: instead of charging in with lances, the Riders begin their battle with ranged arrow attacks to soften up the enemy!

military tactics win, #2: the Orcs take up position on a knoll, specifically to take the edge off any cavalry charge from the Riders!

military tactics win, #3: the Riders sneaking up to kill some orcs in the middle of the night just to keep them from getting any sleep or recovering morale!

it is really a trip listening to Andy Serkis playing Pippin playing Gollum oh my goodness

"brush up my toes" your honour: I love these hobbits

Ch 4 - Treebeard

"almost felt you liked the Forest" clapping my little hands

of course Treebeard INSTANTLY roasts them "I almost feel that I dislike you both" because this is a Tolkien book and he loved roast hobbit

oooh so here's another super medieval thing: Treebeard's lore song. what's so medieval about this, you ask? well one of the reigning passions of the middle ages was taking the sum total of all human knowledge and trying to put it all into a list, or a book. see also: the Etymologies of MY GUY Isidore of Seville

Treebeard wintering in Dorthonion 😭😭😭 do you think he met Beren's family

not sure I ever noticed this before but!!! Treebeard's two bowls of mingling gold and silver light??? Are like an Ent version of the Two Trees???? EAT YOUR HEART OUT FEANOR

"I am not altogether on anybody's side, because nobody is altogether on my side" Treebeard just enunciating my entire political ideology right there

the story about the Entwives is so fascinating. this time I feel I'm reading between the lines a lot better - like, first of all, it's obvious that the reason for their disappearance, whether through death or displacement or likely a combination of both, stems very much from things Tolkien would have heard about, living through the two world wars. second, it strikes me that the Ents themselves bear some responsibility for not working with the Entwives to resist Sauron. if I recall correctly there's a place in the Letters where Tolkien says outright that Merry and Pippin's big contribution to the narrative in TTT is to shake the Ents out of their complacence and into action. one is tempted to add: the way they should have stirred themselves sooner, before they lost the Entwives.

also the Old English word for "woman", whether married or single, was wyf (as opposed to maegden which meant a younger woman). and the word Ent was also a very obscure Old English word which Tolkien was here creating a history for. so while Treebeard and Fimbrethil definitely had a thing, and the Entings definitely came from somewhere - the word "Entwife" could arguably be said to apply to any Ent woman regardless of marital status. tl;dr I'm going to headcanon that like a bunch of the Entwives were happy old maid gardeners who missed their bros but got on with their work.

Serkis' Ent trumptetings are delightful 10/10 no notes

sooooooooo...the Ents must have been fighting on the side of the Last Alliance, after the Entwives disappeared? that's what I'm getting from this chapter? o.0

the War Song of the Ents: another top 10 LOTR poetry moment, maybe THE top LOTR poetry moment of all? think I'm going to have to run a poll when this reread is over

anyway Tolkien once more the GOAT "ah yes I will now pull the book to a halt for a chapter twice the length of all the others, comprised entirely of Tree People loredumps and some BANGIN' poetry"

anyway this chapter has me thinking because I have always had trouble loving secondary fantasy worlds, and Treebeard is probably the character in this book most alien from the rest of the legendarium AND any real-world context. and the keyword here I think IS "context". Tolkien spends a lot of this chapter giving the Ents context, not so much in terms of real world history (again, he was trying to create an etymology to a very obscure Anglo-Saxon word here) - but in terms of both Middle-Earth history (here's what they've been doing throughout the ages of the world, here's how Sauron has injured them, here are the songs the Elves made about them), emotional connection (the story of their long estrangement from the Entwives and their sorrow at having been parted from them is something mythic and instantly relatable), and real-world environmentalist themes (they are the guardians of the trees, exploited and traumatised by evil lords and their wars). my big sticking-point with a lot of secondary-world fantasy is "why should I care about your made-up people in your made-up world", and I think Tolkien manages it the only way possible: by giving them emotional depth and relevance both within and outside his story world.

[edynsgarden]

The Orchid

Chapter 3

There had been whispers of an American Jujutsu sorcerer with a cursed technique that rendered them unstoppable. No one could identify this sorcerer by face, but they were recognizable by photos of each cursed spirit with an orchid beside it. Typically, gossip about foreign sorcerers did not carry across the ocean to Japan, the pillar of Jujutsu, but it seemed that this American sorcerer dubbed “the orchid” was the only topic of conversation in the Jujutsu world. While many higher ups and special grade sorcerers feared the arrival of The Orchid, Satoru Gojo was excited. Finally, a rival, an equal, or maybe… a lover.

Story Warnings: heavy smut, breeding kink, spanking, spitting, violence, mentions of abuse, blood

Chapter Warnings: none <3 (no smut this chapter)

Author's note: We've approached the station squad, next chapter is about to be gooood.

Chapter 0.5 - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Other than the twin bed, the rest of the room was simple, it was a long bedroom, not as cramped as her college dorm with one shared bathroom. “Okay then,” Shiloh responded nonchalantly, sitting on her new bed. Something about this girl perplexed Gojo. Not to say that she is ‘unlike other girls,’ but her stoicism was incredibly confusing. Gojo was used to girls fawning over him or being completely done with his annoying antics, but Shiloh, she got over things too quickly. He could tell that the living situation initially bothered her, but now she seemed completely fine. But, little did Gojo know that Shiloh was freaking the fuck out. Not because she minded the mess, she could conjure the same clothes but folded, but she didn’t know how she would live with Gojo. Unfortunately, with the constant flow of cursed energy that was flowing into her body, her ambition and sex drive are constantly high, so she literally cannot help but want to fuck Satoru. But it’s a-okay their beds are on the opposite side of the room. No worries. 

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Oh. My. Fucking. God Shiloh thought to herself. She had just finished conjuring all of her things and was exhausted, even though she didn't expend that much cursed energy to do so. But, what she was really “oh my fucking god-ing” about was Gojo, who just walked out of a steaming hot shower with nothing on but a white towel hanging low on his waist.  “Do you need something?” Gojo asked, plummeting Shiloh from her trance. “Nope, I am all good, just tired is all. I keep spacing out.”  Nice save Shiloh! She shoots! And she scores Shiloh prayed that Gojo didn’t notice her previous staring but the smirk on his face said otherwise. But how could she not? His tall, lean body was glistening from the water that dripped off of his platinum hair. He looked oiled up like some stripped in Las Vegas. Genuinely, he was hot enough to slide into Magic Mike and no one would notice.  “It’s alright, I get it. People can’t resist these washboard abs,” Gojo joked, flexing his muscles. God help me Shiloh pleaded, she understood that he was joking but her exhaustion killed her mental resolve, one more flex or movement and she would be hopping onto Satoru.  “Shut up. Boo, this is the worst show I’ve ever seen.” Shiloh said, standing up from the bed, an attempt to humble Satoru from his obnoxious posing. But seriously, she needed him to stop as soon as possible before she jumped his bones.  “Oh so you want more? I am not giving you enough Shy?” Oh. The air made a 180 shift, and Shiloh was getting hot. But she was no pussy (said pussy being extremely wet), but aside from that fact, she does not fuck around. So she had to play the game.  “I’m not quite sure you could handle what I want babe,” Shiloh cooed in a seductive tone.  Now Gojo wasn’t sure if he would be able to survive this conversation. Shiloh’s big, brown, doe eyes glistened as she spoke, never breaking eye contact. Shiloh subtly bit her bottom lip, sucking on her cheek with a smirk.  “Oh I doubt you could handle me, babe” Gojo spoke in a mere whisper. Their faces are intimately close, noses almost touching. Shiloh licked her luscious lips, Gojo too readied himself for a night yet to come, a tent forming in his pants. And before anyone could blink, Gojo quickly gripped the back of Shiloh’s head, pulling her into a deep kiss. He didn’t understand what was wrong with him, he was never this weak, but this girl had flipped his world upside down. Shiloh fell into the kiss, pulling the two down a rabbit hole of attraction and lust. But, their moment was temporarily cut short when Gojo slightly pulled away to say “This isn’t right. But I’m okay with being wrong.” “I guess two wrongs do make a right.”