#i am withering away not posting writing lol

[seoulmatez]

finally started writing this boothill drabble (let’s ignore me saying i would do so two days ago :3)!!

[celestie0]

guys pls stop liking the gojo cum physics post. i cannot have this be my legacy. it is my 2nd most liked post rn and i’ve written + posted over 100k words of fanfiction before it🧍🏻‍♀️

[longing-for-rain]

Hello! First let me say that I am enjoying your 'Good Wife' fic. I skimmed chapter 2 today or maybe yesterday and my heart broke for Katara. I am literally terrified of chapter 3. I can't bear to see Katara wither away even more than she already has. I don't understand how a Katara fan can ship Kataang. Her future is bleak with Aang and it didnt have to be this way :(

So I have a question...what if Tenzin were female?? How do you think Aang would treat Fem!Tenzin? As a man, it's easier for Tenzin to sow his seeds so to speak to get more airbending kids. Do you think Aang would want to mold Fem!Tenzin into a mini Katara? Someone expected to pop out babies? Do you maybe see Aang being more doting? I never got the impression that Aang was a boy or girl dad...just an airbending dad lol

Thanks! I’m glad you’re enjoying the fic. I know it’s sad and difficult, but in my mind, it’s a realistic depiction of what Katara’s life was like based on the hints TLOK left. I hate to say it, but the final chapter is going to be even more heartbreaking. It’s a tragedy, after all. BUT to lighten the air a bit, I’m also soon going to post a counterpart story that deviates from canon and gives Katara the happy ending she deserves.

I think that’s a very interesting question about fem!Tenzin though. Given what we see in Pema and Tenzin relationship in TLOK, I feel like fem!Tenzin would be heavily pressured into producing as many airbending heirs as possible. Tenzin clearly was raised with the idea of that being highly important and if he was female, it would have probably been emphasized even more. I agree with you though that Aang would have still favored fem!Tenzin above the other children by virtue of being an airbender.

And yeah, I know people are going to accuse me of being an asshole for this take…but just look at TLOK. Tenzin was clearly the favorite. Tenzin clearly didn’t care about or value the Water Tribe side of his heritage at all, and he made no effort to pass that on to his children. I didn’t write that. It’s canon. Take it up with the writers, not me.

I’m just here to explore the tragic implications canon left.

[gemshroud]

I was thinking more about Entreri in BG3 and wrote this post in my head in bed last night lol

Ranking BG3 Companions By How Likely Entreri Would Be To Romance Them

Caveats: This has no bearing on rp if you write any of these characters btw, this is just for funsies. Also please understand that despite this ranking Entreri is most likely to just never fuck and I love that for him :) Withers vc: Thou art bitchless?

#1 - LAE'ZEL

Most likely to romance. He gets her and actually respects her a great deal. (Looking at the rest of the party) "Why are you all being so precious about this? She's right and knows more about mindflayers than any of us." Entreri would also appreciate the Act 2 love battle A Lot.

#2 - ASTARION

They're more similar than Entreri would probably like to admit. Bonding over sexual trauma unexpectedly breaks some of his walls. Neither of them know wtf they are doing but they will be ride or die about it, will screw over everyone else here and run away together if needs must. Murder husbands.

#3 - SHADOWHEART

They would probably have a weird little mutually antagonistic start because they're both mean and cagey and Entreri hates clerics. But they wind up having more fun in that rivalry than expected. Entreri also hates Selune for Reasons. It would start as appreciation for Shadowheart's competency but could easily become "oh no, I care about this strange woman's tragedy and want to see her escape her circumstances in a way that's uncomfortably familiar, oh fuck."

#4 - WYLL

Entreri's dynamic with Wyll would be so fascinating. Wyll is a lot like Drizzt. Entreri would deeply resent and chafe at Wyll's idealism and yet Wyll is skilled enough to back it up so... Oh! How Entreri seethes!! Wyll meanwhile is probably more amused than anything. Very much one-sided nemeses LOL Entreri vc: I don't know how to flirt with him so I have to declare him my enemy.

#5 - MINTHARA

Ngl his initial response to Minthara would be "I am not getting involved in more drow bullshit" which is fair. Perhaps surprisingly, he would also deeply hate attacking the Grove. He's actually not about unnecessary violence or violence just for the sake of it against ordinary people, and he probably relates to the tieflings on some level despite not really caring to help them. Go figure. However... Act 2 Minthara and onward... "There are no gods left for me"? He would vibe with that mightily.

#6 - KARLACH

Honestly he probably likes her a great deal, but perhaps she is too good for him LOL

#7 - GALE

He would get along fine with Gale if they actually talked but they probably don't. Entreri is probably mildly annoyed by him LOL

#8 - JAHEIRA

This ranking is mostly for Jaheira's disinterest tbh. Entreri probably respects her the most of anyone here. They would gossip so venomously and so beautifully together.

#9 - HALSIN

Similar feelings as with Gale - just kind of mild annoyance. Also Entreri has the carnal desires of a ball of lint so sorry, not really interested in climbing the bear man.

#10 - MINSC

Entreri hates this man so deeply.

Bonus:

RANDOM NPCS ENTRERI WOULD GET ALONG WITH (platonically):

Derryth Bonecloak, Mol, Madame Lucretious, Zarys, Gortash, Nine-Fingers Keene, Wulbren, all the little gnome terrorists tbh, Lakrissa, Grendel

RANDOM NPCS ENTRERI WOULD HATE:

Cazador, Volo, Kagha, Nere, Naaber, Dolly Dolly Dolly, Raphael, The Emperor, Ketheric Thorm (dad issues), Florrick, Ulder Ravenguard, the Underdark fish guys lol

[cielsosinfel]

It's been a while since I've written a Reading Log update, but that's because it's been a while since I finished a book. I've been doing so much reading and stressing over college that is' very hard to focus on reading for fun. But, I want to talk about a book I meant to write up my thoughts on months ago.

The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden.

(this is REALLY LONG under the cut)

I actually won this in a GR giveaway that I entered on a whim, just because it came up when filtering to LGBTQ books lol. Was surprised to receive an ARC in the mail a week later! And dear god am I glad because it ended up being one of my favorite books I've read in ages. The book was released around a week ago and I really think it's worth checking out.

It is historical fiction, set in The Netherlands in the 1960s. I described it on BluSky as thus when I first started it: "lesbian psychological drama about siblings in post war Netherlands and some kind of toxic erotically charged mess between a hella neurotic woman and her would-be sister-in-law"BUT ITS SO MUCH MORE. Even before we get into the fact this is a novel that is really about the Holocaust. Yes, it IS an erotically charged mess between our hella neurotic PoV protagonist, Isabel, living alone in the house she'd grown up in yet does not own, and being forced to host her would-be sister-in-law Eva, who stands to own the house if she marries Isabel's playboy younger brother, who will gain possession as soon as he marries and settles down to start a family. Isabel is terrified of losing the only place she feels she can exist, to losing this one last connection to her mother, her place of safety where she is in control. Isabel is 30 years old, solitary, quiet, anxious, struggles to empathize with others or express herself; Eva is a wrecking-ball of energy, of airheaded youthful irreverence, trying so hard to ingratiate herself to Isabel, who has decided from the first meeting to hate her guts, and Eva isn't helping by pushing back against Isabel's controlling nature and boundaries over and over and over.

Of course that boundary-pushing while forced to live with one another leads to kissing leads to fucking, and Isabel, who is a 30 year old virgin terrified of the idea of kissing or having sex with a man she reluctantly allows to "court her since people /expect/ her to allow it, has an explosive sexual awakening and an awakened all-devouring hunger for this woman who represents so much of what she finds distasteful in life.

Honestly, the sex scenes in this book are some of the hottest I have read ever, at all, in traditionally-published lesbian or F/F fiction, wither literary or genre. They're incredibly visceral, straightforward and not shying away from the actual physicality of intimacy, of fucking, not dancing around naming the body and the ways these women touch and penetrate one another. It's such a breath of fresh air from writing that carefully refuses to say that a woman's fingers is going in another woman's cunt and getting her wet. The desperate possessiveness is palpable; the fact Isabel is such a repressed mess of a virgin but ends up becoming the partner who so often takes charge, pushes, claims, like she's been denied life-giving waters her whole life and now she's desperate to slake her thirst, is soooooooo wonderfully depicted. THIS is the adulthood loss of virginity I am here for.

But as I said before, this is also a book about the Holocaust, about the post-war years where Dutch Christian society was desperate to "move on" and ignore their complicity in the horrors suffered by the Jewish community of The Netherlands, of the betrayals and thefts that were never acknowledged, the lives that were never returned. To be honest, the summary of the book on the cover or GR didn't mention the Holocaust at all, I assume because it's a huge spoiler for the twist of the novel, but it is the moment of history that the entire story and the lives of these characters revolve around. And Eva! Dear fucking god, Eva is one of the most carefully, thoughtfully written characters struggling with long-term un-treated badly-coping trauma I have read in fucking years. Eva deserves everything good in the world.

I will also not spoil where the story leads to, but I did say this on Bluesky:

got to the third part of this novel and been completely sideswiped yet again in how painfully emotionally gutting harrowing this prose is exploring christian european antisemitism post-ww2 post-holocaust i really hope this novel wins the author a lot of awards for this debut novel its 3am and i cant type, i was just sitting on the floor of my bathroom unable to stop reading as soon as the format of the narrative changed and it just did not stop. i had to force myself to stop reading it. god. also i have to say Eva is one of the most well written characters exemplifying what could be CPTSD/BPD i've read in sooooooooo long. well written traumatized characters. i love her and want her to have even a smidge of happy ending by the end of this

A lot of this book is about taking what people give you on the surface, the masks they put up to keep others from looking too deeply, the masks they put up to keep from having to look into /themselves/ too deeply, and having them torn away from their face until they and all the ugly, ugly, terrified parts of themselves are laid bare and vulnerable. A lot of it is about those in positions of privilege, positions of societal power, being terrified of looking too deeply into the past and acknowledging where they and their families are complicit in the suffering of others and the destruction of lives. Isabel and Eva give each other so much, and then ruin one another so thoroughly, and then come back together over and over, and the ending is such a bittersweet one, a "are they really going to manage through all this?" end, but I loved it so much.

Anyway, TL;DR, yes I recommend this book a lot.

Also it has one of the best "coming out to your siblings" exchanges I've ever read.

Bonus for symbolic horny pear-eating metaphors haunting hella-repressed in-denial lesbians:

[juniperhillpatient]

Hi @juniperhillpatient I’ve got another ask for ya (I hope these aren’t getting too annoying)

So I (re)read the first chapter of “the devil you know” and I have some speculations about the killer. So when On Ji texted with the killer (under the guise of Aang) we see that killer impersonated Aang in the text conversation. Not perfectly, but enough to be a believable to his girlfriend. The staying behind to to help a kitten was indicative of this.

Which would imply that the killer is someone who knows Aang and On Ji personally? Or at least know’s of them enough to impersonate Aang. Which would imply the killer is one of the core friend group. But it could also be someone who is merely an acquaintance in the school. Like Mai or Ty Lee, or Zuko.

Digression but I was feeling bad for On Ji up to the point when she began to disparage Azula. My sympathy withered with her. Kidding (for the most part)

Katara also spoke about how the killer was not more than 5 feet in height. Telling us that Ozai was not the clear cut killer himself. Could it have been Mai or Ty Lee in either of those costumes? Who then hid them at the Nakamura forest house.

And what the heck is Chan’s corpse doing in Sokka’s car?

Anyway, I don’t expect an answer to any of the speculations (much more fun that way) but mystery is beginning to eat me alive.

Also, the notion of Azula and Katara living through this together as the “final girls” is a romantic one indeed. But, so too is the notion of Azula and Katara dying in each other’s arms. Tragedies and decisions…

An amazing first chapter! I’m looking forward to the next!

Thank you so much, you are always so supportive & I love getting ask from you! If I take a long time to answer that’s just a me thing it’s not just you.

I am LOVING the speculation & I of course can’t answer any of the questions but I will say you are asking many of the right questions & fixating on the right details 🫢

Also I’m pretty sure you’re not the only one who stopped caring about On Ji when she was rude about Azula 😂 I assume people who read my stuff love Azula by default lol

But to be fair to On Ji, Azula is basically the weird girl. The status she has is because of her wealth & her father’s power but she, Zuko, & Mai are all social outcasts. Ty Lee is not - she’s popular - & we’ll get more into that & how it affects the group too!

Now to your questions - of course I can’t actually answer but you’re right to point out two really big things.

1. The killer knows things about the main characters & their lives & personalities. That’s pretty important.

2. The killer is not huge. This definitely points toward the Ozai being framed possibility considering he is described as a towering figure. But by who & why? Someone with the means to get into that lake house & strategically place evidence where Zuko & Azula were sure to find it which also means someone who knew the party was happening.

Sorry maybe I’m giving away stuff but I’m really excited about this fic & I’m sooo excited seeing your speculation!

I was going to fully complete writing this fic before posting more to ensure there are no plot holes or logical inconsistencies & that I can go back & add foreshadowing as I go buuuut. I’m having a hard time not posting to be honest!

Right now chapters 1-6 are done & I’m about 9k into chapter 7. But chapter 8-10 are pretty heavily outlined sooooo…. At this point I’m heavily tempted to post chapter 2 soon & break my promise of finishing the fic first 😅

Anyway thank you so much for the thoughts & speculation I love it ❤️

[lordkingsmith]

Hewwo. What have you been working on?

A few things :) I’m a non/disney video editor along with writing and other things. But right now in the middle of writing one fanfic-going to soon be turned into a novel, my brain has snatched up an idea from a few months ago and expanded on it.

I am. Intensely proud of this video. MEPs are multiple editor pieces. My piece was a lot of fun and a personal challenge. So it was really funny when a fellow editor posted a sign up for a star person/human mep. That’s it that’s the theme. I got very excited.

So my brain of course, connected them. The character I chose for the star boy for this mep is now in my brain the son of the king and god in the video up here. Son via Magical Shenanigans, lol. I like the idea the god wished on the wishing stars and the next day-irate husband with a baby. I’ve written pieces of fic with those two and may very well turn it into a novel lol.

Currently the two have, in my mind, two children. One of them now being this new wishing star man

My brain says “their son born of a wish hasn’t been able to go near or so much as touch his lover for who knows how long and finally he can even admit he’s in love to this person” which is lovely and so dramatic.

Problem is what kind of curse would scare a god, lol. Who did this hapless human piss off, exactly.

And then on the other end I’m writing A Knight A Pretty As Hollyhock Blooms which is a fanfiction crossover of star wars and the tangled tv show. It’s also a retelling of Gawain and the green knight.

Here’s a little bit of that from the chapter I haven’t published yet :)

Luke’s eyes were drawn again to the scars around Varian’s mouth. Varian caught his eye and put a bandana around his neck back over his nose, hiding his lower face.

“You don’t need to hide that around me” he held his prosthetic hand up, and pulled the sleeve down to show off the gold veins and withered skin. “Magic’s weird, to quote a friend. Plus, I think I have you beat weird scarring wise.”

“It hurts.” Luke said dryly. “Hardly cool.” He tugged his arm away from Varian’s inspection before rolling his sleeve back up over his injured arm. “My father tried to kill me. My mom’s in a coma. Ben’s in amber, so’s Han. We don’t know where Han is, even. The Fett’s deny receiving him.” High likelihood they were lying, though the chance wasn’t zero he just hadn’t been delivered yet. “We had to place Lando Calrissian under house arrest-Landa Rosa and it’s royal family are completely and rightfully incensed. I left without a hand and my country and my sister in a very tense political situation.”

“Aw, poor baby” Varian clucked his tongue at him with very obviously fake sympathy. “You’ve had a very bad year. You could have put this off.”

“No” Luke said, voice clipped, remembering only a few months ago Varian had told the raccoon currently pulling the cart to ‘break him.’ Nor even was he going to forget who had put Han in Amber. “Things would have just kept going until I couldn’t ever come here. I’ve put it off long enough.” He continued eyeing Varian carefully. “Encased in amber until the knight came to kill me far from the tree with everything I love ruined.”

An easy shrug and a hand patted invitation to sit back on the cart bench. “Not wrong. But not everything’s your fault. The brotherhood have nothing to do with you, your highness.” A slight pause. “Neither does your father. If you were worried about that.”

“You sound so certain.”

“I’ve only got my own experience, but it never seems to touch those already experimenting with spells, alright? And Anakin Skywalker took to sorcery like he was born for it.”

“…how do I know this didn’t set him on the path?”

Varian shrugged. “Alright, that is a valid fear. The knight might be one of the creepiest things on this planet, and more of a storm variety of force of nature and better avoided.” He held up a finger. “But I’ll throw you a bone and be nice. Anakin was already talking to us long before you volunteered your life to the knight, alright?”

Thanks for the question! And for letting me ramble a little about my odd projects :)

[worldwright]

good evening ! im super early today bc im dying lmao

man, it was so fucking hard to fall asleep after my war against that fucking stinkbug, and someone i wont name fucking deserted and left her leader to fight this great and horrifying enemy

anyway, i checked which fucking painkiller i can take, and the only one i can is paracetamol but this fucker does nothing to my headaches, so im switching entirely to water from tea bc it works better than a fucking painkiller

i slept bad (what a surprise), my father woke me up bc he couldnt find me (man, the only day he wants to know where the fuck i am is the only where i dont wnat him to find him), a headache is there and my nap didnt help ;-; but at least i finished my second watch of glass onion (started last week) and watched the episode of dunmesh and now i can say w/o any doubt that chilchuck is my fav -he was from the very beginning but ude, now im sure)

ill be able to finally sleep in my bed tonight yay

and here a picture the coward from this morning (or icecream, or latte, or whatever you like to compare her to. my friends call her "table basse" [coffee table] or "chieng en format familial" [familiy-sized doggo]. youre too kind with your nicknames for her lol)

have a wonderful morning with your partner my friend !

o how decadent is her lounging !! would that we could all feel the same peace 😌❤️

(no that is not proper English grammar don't copy me 😭😭)

hehe tiny emojis 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🍃🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

immmmmm so excited to hang out with people I felt like I was withering lmfao

I think I'm gonna go up to see all my friends next weekend, since all of them are once again living in their dream life shared apartment with the besties ughhhh I can't wait to live there

the new office manager at my job is so cool :3 he's incredibly gay lmfao

I've officially caught up on apothecary diaries. ugh what do I do with my life now

obviously the answer is wait impatiently for every new episode and write analysis posts in the meantime

mmm I wanna reread witch hat atelier...... next week downtime obsession found 👍👍

egg salad last night was all right! I accidentally added too much mayonnaise and then had to overcorrect from there, so it ended up not having as much egg per volume as it should have. but still tasty and nutritious :3

speaking of food you're SO valid about Chilchuck. he's just ❤️❤️❤️ This Is A Divorced Father Of Three With Extreme Communication Issues ❤️❤️❤️ who looks like a middle schooler 🥰🥰🥰

also chatted with a friend about our fic ideas, which was really fun. the problem is that I have a really fleshed-out AU, but I don't know what actual plot to put in the AU. lol. ahhhhhhh

girlfriend weekend!!!!! girlfriend weekend!!!!!!!!

hope your headache goes away in time for you to get good sleep tonight!!

[becauseanders]

Character Songs tag

so technically i wasn't actually tagged in this but @sillyliterature did say "and anyone else who wants to do this" in her post so i'm taking it, lol

Game Rules: Choose one of your characters and list songs that fit them.

and i am going to also copy sillyliterature again by choosing anders in basically any variation of my canons/writings (so also always involving a romance with a female hawke, and of course also with some major focus on circle abuse and trauma), because that's the current mood, and i will also follow suit by putting it under a cut with lyrical excerpts!

and i will tag @dismalzelenka, @little--abyss, @faith-less-one, @magicalelvenjedicat, @fthechantry (and of course only if you want to!)

✨"Rock 'n' Roll Suicide" by David Bowie Oh no, love, you're not alone You're watching yourself, but you're too unfair You got your head all tangled up But if I could only make you care

Oh no, love, you're not alone No matter what or who you've been No matter when or where you've seen All the knives seem to lacerate your brain I've had my share, I'll help you with the pain You're not alone

Just turn on with me, and you're not alone Let's turn on and be not alone Gimme your hands, 'cause you're wonderful Gimme your hands, 'cause you're wonderful Oh, gimme your hands

✨"Marian" by The Sisters of Mercy In a sea of faces, in a sea of doubt In this cruel place your voice above the maelstrom In the wake of this ship of fools I'm falling further down If you can see me, Marian, reach out and take me home

I hear you calling ,Marian Across the water, across the wave I hear you calling, Marian Can you hear me calling you to Save me, save me, save me from the grave Marian

Marian, there's a weight above me And the pressure is all too strong To breathe deep Breathe long and hard To take the water down and go to sleep To sink still further Beneath the fatal wave Marian, I think I'm drowning This sea is killing me

✨"Do You Doubt Me Traitor" by Lingua Ignota I don't eat I don't sleep I don't eat I let it consume me

How do I break you Before you break me?

[…]

My friends all wear your colors Your flag flies above every door But bitch, I smell you bleeding And I know where you sleep

Do you doubt me, traitor? Throw your body in the fucking river I'm the cuntkiller

And I don't eat, I don't sleep I don't eat, I don't sleep

✨"Anhedonia" by Chelsea Wolfe and Emma Ruth Rundle Take an eye for an eye Take me down with you Take it all away

I know it all comes back times three That human, that demon showed me How it ends when you treat your friends like foes So don't come looking for me I've got my walls up now Protect myself like a fortress And I'm on my own now

No, I can't sleep, baby And waking up is just a dream My sadness has lost its cause And I'm suffocating So don't come looking for me I've got no joy to lend Protect myself like a fortress Isolating, bridge withdrawing Isolated, I can't take it

Anhedonia Anhedonia I'll be your silent witness I'll be your borderline I'll keep you safe and sacred Just keep your heart close to mine

✨"It Took the Night to Believe" by Sunn O))) A perfect silhouette What is destroyed by fire The withering egg Dialates full Unnourished In salutations of crescent eye Cry yourself to ash

A perfect silhouette The beacon lingers Cry yourself to ash The beacon lingers Cry yourself to ash A perfect silhouette It took the night to believe

…and i could go on for far longer so i am going to stop but shoutout as well to "Woe to All (On the Day of My Wrath)" by Lingua Ignota for being a spectacular chantry boom song!

[tev-the-random]

(It didn't all fit in the tags so I'll just bring it to the post itself)

*deep breath*

I'm not gonna CHOOSE I'm gonna RANT. That was a silly small question, but I need to ramble.

Important to say! I'm not criticising the creators nor shitting on them or anything. I'm pretty happy with the stories we got and I adore what they've made! But! If I could magically get more content added to past stories, this is some stuff I am particularly curious about/would have loved to see more of:

Scott's Elsa arc. Specifically the Gem Being Frozen part. Currently writing a fic about it because it had SO MUCH ANGST POTENTIAL, IT'S INSANE-

On a similar note, Corrupted Gem. She got corrupted for .5 seconds and then it was over. It was such a perfect set up for some fantastic stuff to happen, sad she never got to go evil for a couple more episodes.

Also would have loved to see the Vampire Fwhip thing come into fruition. Both the twins deserved to be more Evil and Dark, but the fact that fWhip never even got to start on an arc he really wanted to make is just sad.

Ok, so remember that in Katherine's Empires season 1 finale she planted this magic seed given to her by the Overgrown and it turned into a mysterious giant flower? Maybe that was just the end of it and the flower is just there now. But I would have loved some explanation of what that was even supposed to be? WHAT WAS THAT FLOWER AND WHY WAS IT IMPORTANT??

The Crown arc in season 2 of Empires. Pixlriffs got withered to death by the crown and absolutely nothing came from it. He's just a ghost now. Nobody else was affected nor did we ever discover WHY that happened.

Scott's magic eye. He dropped a total of one (1) backstory dump on us about it and then it never came up again. Like, I know there was an easter egg in Witchcraft SMP about that eye-stealing skull, but just. Why? And why did his eye only ever actually see magic in like, two or three episodes? Well, obviously it would have been a pain to edit the colourful auras into every episode, but just the fact that Scott had that ability at all could have made him such a perfect asset for so many other plotlines!

Princess Katherine. Enough said.

The wisps guiding Princess Gem around Dawn? Gem said she was just larping the entire time, so what the hell were those???

The Sheriff shrine in Gobland. Like fwhip. Fwhip you don't just DO that and then never bring it up again. His whole obsession with the Sheriff went nowhere, the waste of batshit insane goblin-

Speaking of Sheriff, the Sheriff. Poor Jim got so taken over by the toy jokes that that was his entire series. He practically didn't get to do anything else. There was a point where his hat was implied to corrupt whoever wore it and he was supposed to get help from Joel to take it away from fWhip before the goblin went crazy, it even ended an episode on a cliffhanger, but once again, nothing happened.

The fact that Mayor Lizzie was hiding her identity never actually came up as a conflict. There were jokes about her cat tendencies, but nobody got to discover what she was.

Both E1 Pix and E2 False. RIP to our incomplete Copper Monarchs.

THE FUCKING FAE

(Switching to Witchcraft SMP real quick) not that it didn't get a conclusion, but more that it didn't make a whole lot of sense and I feel like a missed something: Bertha, darling, what the hell happened between you, your sister and your goat lover-

Ok I'm done lol

mcyt fans if you could choose one dropped plot thread/character arc to get a proper conclusion which would you choose

[strangesoulmates]

Fanfic asks for the new year, 2, 5, 8!

2.Will you participate in any fandom exchanges or fic challenges, etc?

Yes, absolutely! I am currently signed up for a fix-it fic challenge that I'm working on, but that has to stay pretty hush-hush for now. But like, I am so excited to try and get more involved in the Alex Rider Fandom. There's so many different challenges that run and I'm psyched to get involved in as many as I can that are running this year. I started getting involved (quietly) in the AR fandom right around when Secret Santa signups started, but I couldn't quite trust my muse enough to go ahead and put my name in, and I was a little hesitant about doing so when I hadn't written anything for the fandom which felt a little unfair to my recipient.  But afterwards, I wished I had.  And I love participating in events in general!  So, yeah, basically as many as I can get my hands on that are running this year lol

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

WIP that's first on my list is for the aforementioned hush-hush challenge, assuming I can finish it in time.  But the next one is def the soulmate AU!  So, have a snippet from that

He should have been terrified. After all, he *knew* Yassen now. Down to the core of him, made of steel, forged and reforged in the fires of more tragedy and betray than any person should ever have to deal with. Yassen was all sharpness and jagged edges, the broken pieces of Yasha forged into a weapon. Dangerous. A killer. But at the very core of him had been an empty place. An aching one, where loyalty and love had curled up and waited, nearly withered away. A place Yassen had numbed himself to, deep inside his walls. It was this place he had tucked Alex into, their soulbond anchored in the very core of him, those formidable walls and sharp edges closing up around him. Yassen, Alex knew, would never hurt him. Would protect him, no matter the cost. There were many things about this situation to be afraid of, but Yassen wasn't one of them. A sense of awed, fond agreement crept across the bond, warm and sticky like syrup (like blood), and Alex knew Yassen had sensed his train of thought through the bond, new as it was.

8. Is there a story idea in your mental vault that you’ve never been brave enough to try writing? Is this the year? Can you tell us about it?

I mean, I don't know?  Like, I at least tend to try my ideas out so that I can get them out of my head a little bit.  Most of the ones I'm not sure will ever see the light of day are the ones that are just like, pure filth. And it's been a lot time since I wrote smut, so I'm out of practice. But maybe some of them!

[scoups4lyfe]

Journal Entries (4)

Below are entries from my journal, both my real life and online one.

Note: I do (again) --to my felllow writers out there --think that if anyone ever writes a bipolar character, then these entries would be a good look into the kind of mindset someone with bipolar might have <33.

I don't have much else to say :D. so--

[Journal Entries]

“February 23rd 2022 — Wednesday 6:51 PM

Everyday…it seems that no matter how hard I try or dream or wish….I’m not able to accomplish anything. The days stress me out.

Bubbling anxiety fills my gut like locusts.

Gnawing….gnawing….gnawing….gnawing away. I pray (continuously) for the ability to be productive. My lack smothers me and I become just a shadow of the dreamer I was before. What is the color of all this overwhelming emotion? My sights are empty, I’m the only one whose stuck in this abandoned place.

“My time in the bottle 2022” indeed. I am overwhelmed.

My ocean — all these emotions crashing like waves inside me — threatens to drown me. God is my life vest and he holds my head above water. Everyday he says: “Just breathe, all in due time” and I want to believe this so badly, 100% wholeheartedly, yet each day that I fail to move I cling desperately on the very edge of despair. ‘God do you not hear me?’

“I do.” He answers.

“Then what shall I do?”

“Wait.” — I hope the Holy Spirit can renew me, for my hopes suffocate.”

[End of entry]

…

[Friday, April 16th, 2022 — 12:24 AM]

“I feel like a lake slowly withering up. Is it so bad to crave love and attention? Recognition? Is having too much ambition a sin? These dreams are big, and so, so, very heavy. It feels like my back is breaking under its weight. Do you cry at my failures? Are they expected? More often than not I feel built to fail. I wish my psychiatric appointment was sooner. I really want to be able to function like a normal person. What an idea, to be able to do exactly what you set out to do, as you’ve dreamed it. Sometimes I think these dreams are poisoning me. Making me disillusioned, insane. Especially because the difference between dream and reality is enough to drown in.

I don’t want to drown.

Help me. Help me. All I can do is cry out for your help. Please don’t let me drown.”

[End of entry]

NOTE: The rest of the entries I'll be uploaded are from my online journal. I moved journaling to online entries because I didn't have the energy / motivation to write by hand.

…

[Ssat. May 14th 2022]

Monochrome Diamonds.

Today’s title is directly related to the TXT’s “Good boy Gone Bad” MV that I just finished watching like 0.1 seconds ago.

ANYWAYS. Excited cause a new episode of KinnPorsche drops today. I need to live blog for Revice~. I just did a lot of self-care AND cleaned the house so I feel pretty great. Very solid. [End Quote]

… [Sunday, May 15th 2022]

The Sht-storm of Editing

(6:15 PM)

I went to bed at 5:50 AM last night and woke up today at just before 3PM. (12:32 AM — So I guess May 16th, tech) Hmmm. I can’t say that I’ve been all that productive today ngl. Tumblr — that btch — said I ‘hit my media post limit’ because of the amount of sh*t I had in my drafts. Which meant I couldn’t even EDIT my damn drafts LOL!!! Now that it's midnight tho I can edit them but damn that was frustrating, yo. (LMAO)

I also have no idea what I’m doing right now. I….haven’t really accomplished anything today and yeah that’s frustrating, but mostly I’m tired. I’m wondering if this is from Ritalin? Because I *DO* notice a difference when I take Ritalin compared to Adderall. Not 100% sure what it is yet — but I’m gonna go ahead and say it's positive.

My sabbath (sat) was soooooo good. Makes me wish that the weekend was longer. And work isn’t even that hard or bad? Is this just a defeatist mindset?

….

[Monday, May 16th 2022]

The Morning Discussion. A Thousand Dreams. And Small Step

Today feels like a good day to get sht done. Ahhh I’m so ready to finally work towards my goals. I’m really looking forward to writing. And also improving my art skills <33. (6:18 PM) Just got on a call with [Friend]. I need to make sure I get stuff done today :oo. Got some Culver's chocolate ice cream.

…

[Tuesday, May 17th 2022]

The Loser’s guide to Sleep Deprivation

(2:49 PM)

I did not sleep at all last night….. I spent all night reading webtoons and now I feel like sht. Having to work through this both sucks and hurts lmao 😭.

[Insert George and Dream Axolotl video] …

[Thursday, May 19th 2022]

[Sister’s] 20th Birthday

(9:54 PM)

I really clowned myself on accident by not snacking in between 5pm-7pm because my sugar dropped and I got the worst brain fog fking EVER bro. I hate brain fog. Not being able to formulate sentences. Losing your train of thought every 3 seconds. Ughhhh. And even rn I still feel out of it. Though now I’m thinking that’s from the caffeine in the tea rather than anything else :PPP.

(10:26 PM)

I am……out of it, unmotivated, frustrated, and soured like a grape. I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want. I want, I want, I wan-

And yet none of it I do. THere’s always a reason. Always an excuse.

Always something that stops me from moving forward. Is it doubt? Reason? Rationality? It's especially frustrating rn :(((. Man, I can just see someone asking: “Bro there is so much time in a day. How do you even accomplish not a single thing in an entire day?” And dammit! Dammit! WHy! WHy!!!!!Why do essays take me 4 hours to write??? Why does 500 words take me 4 hours??? Why does drawing deplete the clock to zero??? WHY???

How. How. How. How. How. HOw. HOw. How. How. How. How. How. HOw. HOw. Is it the internet???? Should I fast from electronics???? Only write, draw, and learn sh*t offline???? Is THAT the answer?? (Bro I’m gonna go insane. Full on insanity plea. Ahhhghhhh I want to CRY yo.) I can never do anything and the clock tick tick tiCKS away. Like I’m marching to my death. To nothing for nothing to nothing for nothing.

…..

*sighs.* Sometimes I wonder why I exist.

There is something I want to do with EVERY SINGLE PART OF MY BEING — but then what? I’m not able to? I can’t? I’m just going to continue failing? God….I know, I kNOW, I can’t do sht on my own. I’ve well learned THAT lesson. You’ve told me to just show up. To check my priorities. To prioritize you and other ppl in order to get sht done.

And for what??? I’m here-

I’ve showed up!!! [God] — why have you forsaken me? Why does something pop in the way? Why am I unable? Why am I unable even as I desperately cry for help???? Why does my mind fail and break right when I need it most??? Is it my family? What-? Should I go into self-isolation? Block all the world out if it isn’t related to whatever “work” I need to get done???????????????????????

….

[Friday, May 20th, 2022]

My Complaints Just Shan’t End

Okay….so I got to keep my sugar up and make sure I'm getting good nutrition so I don’t die or something serious like that happens. But it's either my family or my body just making that such a hard thing to accomplish.

They barbequed at [Older Sister’s] and damn. I just….man I just CAN’T go over to [My Sister’s House] more than once a week. That’s too much stress. And I didn’t want to spend my whole night there lmao ://

Bro this sucks.

As I said….really just makes me feel hopeless. All I wanna do is shrivel up and cry even tho I’m not sad, just frustrated, anxious, and hopeless. (LOL!!!) Yesterday night ended well though — I practiced Thai, and I’ve been doing more Thai practice >:)))) — and since I stayed home I have been learning the Thai alphabet and practicing my Thai handwriting. Damn I’m still so frustrated though. This is such sht man. This is such sht

…

Sunday. May 22nd, 2022.

The Day That Wasn’t.

…

[Tuesday, May 24th, 2022]

Table of Contents

(7:17 PM)

At the bookstore/cafe [Name of Bookstore / Cafe], working on….idk fiction probably. I have done no writing yet LOL!!!! So here I gooooo.

10:00 PM)

:).

…

[Wednesday, May 25th, 2022]

Re. Vice. And the Sleep Deprived Day

(10:11 am)

I haven’t slept yet.

Revice. Revice. Revice. Revice. Revice. Revice. Revice.

✨✨Revice~✨✨

…..Gosssh I love Revice and I love liveblogging. I don’t know where I went wrong (along the way) but yaish. (Time always got to be my #1 enemy).

…I should probably get some sleep. I’ve really just been goofing around — watched Kang Daniel’s new music video, I want to re-watch TXT’s GBGB Performance. I have the Chinese drama ‘Be Reborn’ up because I want to watch it but I don't want to watch it so I’ve been trying to re-watch my favorite scenes from episode 5 (lol).

[Yesterday in recap]

…Wrote maybe 100 words? I was NOT flowing at all. That and the brain fog was for real. Which….is very frustrating?? Why is it that whenever I start to get serious about getting work done and being productive something creeps up and smacks me in the face, completely preventing me from getting anything, ANYTHING done.

????? WHY??? (아버지. ???)

왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜. 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜.왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜.왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜.왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜.왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜 왜.

…

[Friday. May 27th, 2022]

Everything was going great….Until it wasn't.

(11:30 PM)

Okay, so. The entire first half of the day was great…but what the fck am I doing right now??? It's like sudden insanity hit me out of nowhere and now I just??? Like my stomach is lightning in a bottle.

And I’m tired. SO tired. But not sleepy.

This sucks. I hate this. Thanks tho God <333. I’ll try and idk??? Outlast this nonsense I guess? Naw, but I don’t even know how to describe this feeling??? I just feel…everything. It’s indecipherable and mixed together and it feels like my insides are on fire.

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

NOTE: So this is the end of part 4. I talk about God a lot in these entries LOL. Whenever I'm going through something extremely difficult I pray (I mean, I do normally too but that's not the point). This is why I was fascinated with the religious themes in DPR Ian's MVS. When you're in an episode or transitioning into one it can feel like you've been abandoned, and so I perfectly understood what Ian was putting down (LOL).

Right. I'll be posting the next powerpoint part soon.

[Prev] [Next]

PPT Essay: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5], [6]

PPT Essay Extras: (1), (2), (3)

Visuals of a Depressive Episode: (1), (2)

Journal Entries: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

[qqueenofhades]

Hey! I’ve been reading your Sandman fic and I absolutely love it! The character introspection, expansion of world building, and incorporated history lessons make me feel less guilty about procrastinating on my actual homework lol. Your updates have been a delightful break between the mountains of readings and essays I’m trudging through on my undergrad slog. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I must know: how on earth do you write such big chapters and post them regularly? The rising word count with each new chapter is both terrifying and awe-inspiring, akin to my poor queer heart’s first glimpse of Gwendoline Christie as Lucifer Morningstar. I’m a slow writer, which I’m fine with, but I can’t even imagine producing so many words in such a short timeframe without then keeling over and withering away. Do your hands cramp from sprinting across the keys?? Are the muses holding you captive???

Aha, thank you. Basically: I have a lot of experience, have been doing this for a long time and with a lot of projects, and am very good at turning on my "writing brain" when I want to write. Also when a project totally owns my entire life, such as AITWW does at the moment, I have a very hard time doing literally anything else with my free time, and sometimes not even my free time. (See: me writing in a notebook during downtimes at work. Welp.)

I'm glad you're enjoying it so much, and that it's assisting you in your studies, so to speak. I am working steadily on chapter 13, and will say that I am contemplating giving it an even MORE evil cliffhanger than chapter 12. Ahem.

[acatalystrising]

ZWEI I, I, I literally am forcing my brain to make words because I have been a constant state of “oh my god” and “AAAHHH” and gjzzfffjcksbv I am TRYING to formulate the words I mean to say.

In fact, I think I’m actually dead and writing this as a ghost with too much to rant about.

This fic has become my absolutely favorite comfort story, and I am constantly re-reading it! The way you absolutely nail Boba and write him so masterfully is just, gahhh! It’s so, so good. I feel like I’m over here taking notes! The way you perfectly capture the masterful duality of this man is perfection, and I’m so genuinely glad others see him in the same depth I do. And goodness gracious is this chapter DRIPPING with wonderfully sexy goodness! At this point I’m posting whole paragraphs of this masterpiece because it totally deserves it!

“Not so brave now, are you, little princess?” Boba croons, licking his lips like he can taste your salt on his tongue. “Now that you’ve got nowhere to run and no pretty boys to bat your lashes at.” His muscular thigh pushes its way between your own and he grinds up into your center, forcing a moan up behind your teeth.

“I have… no idea… what… you’re talking… about,” you gasp, writhing on his thigh as your hands fly out to fist his suit jacket in a gnarled grip. You can feel your brain melting down the sides of your skull under his piercing gaze.

“Oh, you don’t?” he mocks, “Well let me enlighten you then, sweetheart. You spent the entire evening driving every man and the women Shand didn’t get to first out of their minds with your pretty little face and flirty little mouth. And all for what, to get my attention?” 

You’re burning so hot you can’t even think, much less get your tongue to unstick to form a coherent sound, so all you can answer with is round, shiny eyes and a shiver.

“Well, now you have it, princess,” he continues, a predatory smirk slashing across his dark features that makes your insides twist with his danger. “What are you gonna do with it?”

Like, GOOD. KRIFFING. MAKER. ABOVE.

Dom Boba would fix me. (Or make me worse) and I. Would. Let. Him. Something about his possessiveness and filthy words awakens something in me and I don’t think it’s going anywhere lol. And he’s so damn strong and commanding and ughhhh, I am not god’s strongest soldier.

I am literally weak kneed just reading this. This is SO Boba. His power, presence, and control. It just makes me melt! And THIS? I. Am. On. My. Knees. But on top of it all, after all that searingly hot excellence, you write THIS?!?

There’s true pain in his voice, the agony and strife of a man who has endured and had to bear the cost of that survival on his own, with wounds that never completely healed alongside scars that run so deep they’re etched into his bone and being. If only he knew how beautiful it made him that he never let that secret soft part of him die, you think. That despite what would have been the logical choice for anyone in his position, he chose to tuck his tenderness away for safekeeping rather than letting it wither in reality’s harsh sun.

“Boba, I want you to listen to me and listen to me good.” You take his beautiful face between your palms and trace your thumbs over his cheekbones, mimicking the affectionate gesture he often used with you. This close you can see the dark lashes around his brown eyes and all the torment held within them; it makes you physically ache to know that this man, this perfect, wonderful man doesn’t think he deserves everything good and pure because he’s roughed up and his soul has some dings in it. That it somehow precluded him from deserving the same love he so willingly gives to you despite your own imperfections.

“I love you, Boba Fett, I love every scar on your body, every bruised muscle and broken bone. I love your dark, hidden parts just as much as the ones which see the light. You know why? Because they made you who you are, they made you into the man who makes me feel safe, makes me feel beautiful and happy. You are a man of action and that’s worth far more to me than any string of pretty words ever could be. You are enough and you are mine, and the sooner you accept that, the better.” 

I hope you know I actually cried. This is so beautiful, so masterful, that you can capture how broken and loving he is all in one. The softness and the pain, but also the strength. These are the reasons why I love Boba. And you have our feisty librarian show him all the love he deserves, and more.

This story is a work of art, I am ensnared, and I absolutely cannot wait for the next chapter! (And it will be right after my birthday too so that’s even cooler!)

EX LIBRIS IV

PART IV: ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

—Professor!Boba Fett x F!Librarian!Reader

—Series Rating: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—Part Summary: Your new relationship with the Mandalorian studies professor begins to take shape.

—Word Count: 11.2k

—Tags & Warnings: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, age gap (reader is mid-twenties, Boba is late forties), reader is bisexual (and on her shit again lol), reader described as having enough hair to grab, alcohol consumption by reader and others, little bit of Mando'a used (translations at the end), dom/sub power dynamics, bdsm elements, dom!Boba, oral sex (male and fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl) (also I’ve decided this AU includes safe, effective birth control since we’re fantasizing anyways), creampie, lots of petnames, praise kink, dirty talk, light degradation (discussed before, use of "slut" and "whore"), choking, hair pulling, one dude being a creep but nothing bad happens

As always, let me know if I missed anything that needs to be tagged!

—Author's Notes: Y’all I’m not going to lie to you, this got filthy FAST and idk how this ended up at 11k but I’m not sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And, yes, I am naming these chapters after different parts of a book because I think I’m clever. We've got some new chapter warnings this go around as well, so be sure to mind those!

A big thank you to @rexxdjarin and @agirlnamejacq for betaing, and thank you my beautiful readers for your all support and feedback 💖

Read on AO3 — Series Masterlist — Taglist

Part I — Part II — Part III — Part V Coming June 9!

Rain plinks steadily against the thick, wavy glass of the library’s windows, its hypnotic rhythm lulling you into a trance as you watch the gray sky curl and coil outside from your post at the circulation desk. In your relaxed daze, your mind slips back to your date with Boba and the morning after. You think about how you got to fall asleep in his arms, tucked into his chest that was so warm and safe you only needed the sheet on top of you, and how even in his sleep he kept a protective arm slung over your body.

The way he woke you up with kisses on your neck, whispering how happy he was to wake up with you in his bed as his tongue laved over the bite-shaped bruise he left there the night before, and how it felt when you let him kiss down your body until he was once again laying between your thighs. How his hooded brown eyes searched for permission to continue like you would ever deny him any part of you. 

“Can I taste you, princess? Can I have that pretty pussy for breakfast?”

“Please, it’s all yours.”

He was in no rush to take you apart, groaning into your wet heat and sucking more bruises into the tender skin of your thighs in between licking and fucking you with his tongue until you finally begged him to push you over the edge. After he let you soak his face, he stole you away to the shower, promising you his fingers and his cock. Afterwards you had returned the favor in the steamy, warm water, not content until he spilled every last drop of his release down your throat, cursing with his fist in your hair that you were going to suck the life out of him.

“No,” you smiled deviouly, licking the last dribble of cum off his cock, “just your soul, old man.”

Flashing you a shark-like grin through the haze of his release, he reached behind you and turned the water to cold before jumping out of the shower. You might not have forgiven him as quickly as you did if he hadn’t made you the best omelet you’d ever had for breakfast.

Since neither of you had been willing to part, you spent the day sprawled across him watching reruns on TV and talking about your lives: what books you liked, your dream vacations, what the best pasta sauce is, first crushes, anything really. The conversation flowed with such ease you might have talked the whole day away if you hadn’t gotten distracted with exploring each other’s bodies. It wasn’t all sex—though there was plenty of that too—it was soft touches mapping out curves and lines to memory, lips tracing over scars and dimples, warm hands on sore muscles. In short, it was pure bliss, like coming home after a long journey. 

You had been loath to leave him when the treacherous sun started to set at the end of the day; Boba even threatened to keep you forever if you weren’t careful, as if that was supposed to make you want to leave any more. How could you be expected to sleep in your own bed now that you knew the warmth of his? Go to sleep without his chest rising and falling next to you? You were falling hard, tumbling down into love’s abyss with arms open and heart willing. That should scare you, it had in the past, but how could you be afraid when it was Boba Fett you were getting lost in?

When he finally did take you back to your apartment once the sun dipped below the horizon, you almost convinced him to come inside for “just one drink” before he thought better of your ploy to keep him and sent you through your door with a smack on the ass.

“Nice try, princess. I know what you’re up to.”

“What? I’m just being a hospitable host.”

“I’m pretty sure hospitable hosts don’t try to put their hands down their guests’ pants in the doorway.”

“The good ones do, and only for guests who can fuck like you.”

He laughed with that rich, delicious rumble of his then kissed you until your head spun and your lungs cried for air. Just thinking about it now makes your chest tighten and breath catch in the back of your throat. Gods I wish I could sneak over to his office and kiss him like that again. Run my hands over his broad shoulders and strong chest, feel his heartbeat quicken when I kiss him.

With the advent of classes, you’d hardly seen him outside of the afternoons when he’d walk you to your car at the end of the day. Talking on the phone every night was great, but it couldn’t replace actually being with him, especially when you’d been able to spend almost everyday with him those last two weeks of the summer break. All this time apart served to show just how much you enjoy just being around Boba; you miss the weight of his voice, the serenity of his solid presence, his dark eyes and the bright smile he seemed to reserve for you alone. He fed a part of you that you didn’t know was starving and tended to the soft pieces of yourself that had been trodden down by the unkinder parts of life. 

Oh, and he can make me come so hard I forget my own name. Repeatedly.

The sound of someone actually saying your name interrupts your daydreaming. Unhappily snatched back from the rosy past to the dreary present Thursday, you swivel towards the source of the interruption: a smirking Selena leaning against the back office door with her arms crossed, smug. “Thinking about your professor again?”

“No,” you deny rather unconvincingly, rolling out your shoulders to sit up straight with a huff. You’d been caught fair and square but that didn’t mean you're going to admit it.

Your coworker scoffs, rolling her eyes, clearly not fooled by your posturing. “Pfft that’s not what the hearts in your eyes say. I think you even have a couple floating above your head.”

Looking around the spacious room, you throw your hands up. “Does nobody in this library have any work to do besides harass me?” There’s barely a patron in sight, the large oak tables in the atrium sitting empty except for a handful of students hunched under the green bankers lamps lining them. 

“On a day like today? Absolutely not.” Selena drops down on the chair next to you with a yawn and a stretch, not bothering with the guise of work at all. “Did you decide what you’re wearing to the baccalaureate reception tomorrow?”

The event in question is the big kickoff to the academic year for faculty and staff at the end of the first week of classes. Held in the space the two of you are currently seated in, the library’s ornate atrium would be cleared of all its furniture and set up for an evening of hors d’oeuvres and drinks on the university’s dime. Despite the ostentatiousness of it all, you enjoyed the reception as it let you catch up with colleagues you rarely got to see during the academic year and mingle with the new professors. You were especially looking forward to this year’s, not in the least because it provided the opportunity to see a certain Mandalorian studies professor dressed to the nines.

“I was thinking of the green velvet dress, the one with the mesh top,” you answer. The outfit in question is one of your favorites; the rich material hugging your curves in all the right ways making you feel effortlessly sexy—you can’t wait to see Boba’s reaction to it. If you're lucky, you hope, he’ll drag you off somewhere and have his way with you before the night is over. And then again when we get back to his house.

Selena squeals and claps her hands excitedly. “Eeee, the one that makes you look snatched?” she wiggles her eyebrows at you “‘Cause if it is, your man doesn’t stand a chance!”

You laugh, curling your hands inward and cocking your head dramatically. “Yes, that one. You still got those black heels I can borrow?”

“Yeah, as long as I can use that clutch you let me use the other week.”

“It’s a deal,” you grin. “Oh, and Boba said we can get ready in his office so we don’t have to go all the way home and come back.”

“Are you sure he meant ‘we,’” she gestures between the pair of you skeptically, “or just you? I’m not trying to cut my contour while you two are going at it on the couch.”

You throw a pad of yellow sticky notes sitting on the computer at her. “He meant we, and besides,” you smirk, “I’ll just suck him off before you get there so you can fix my makeup after.” You both burst into giggles after a poor attempt of stifling them, your laughter earning you a glare from a passing professor, which you ignore. 

Balancing her chin on her hand, your friend considers you for a moment. Her big brown eyes are a bit lighter than Boba’s, ringed with dark lashes and expertly applied winged eyeliner. “So you really like this Boba Fett then?” 

A sunny smile spreads over your face, the answer easily on your lips. “You know what? I do, I really, really do. He’s strong and kind and funny in his own way, and he makes me feel safer than I have in my whole life. He matches my energy like… like he was made just for me. I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at him or hearing him talk. He could read the kriffing phone book to me and I would be riveted.”

“Hold on, let me write all this down so I can send it to Hallmark for their next movie,” Selena interrupts, grabbing a pen from the cup on the desk. You roll your eyes and she snickers before softening. “Really though, I’m so happy for you, girl. It’s not every day you find someone who makes you feel like that.”

Her warmth and genuineness make your heart twinge: you are truly grateful to have a friend like her. “Thank you, Sel, that means a lot.”

She leans in and rests her head on your shoulder, and you give her a squeeze. “Now,” she starts, grinning, “do you know if he has any sons around our age for me?” Dissolving into giggles once more, you decide to give up on work for the remainder of the rainy day.

You rest a hand on your hip, taking a swig from your water bottle and admiring the efforts of the last half hour’s labor: the primly decorated circulation desk showcasing all the library’s services and resources for the reception guests to peruse. The attendees would begin arriving any minute and you were eager to present all the library offers for the faculty; you genuinely enjoy your work and you’re proud of the new primary source collection you’d established over the summer. It also meant you finally got to see Boba—you hadn’t gotten to see him when you and Selena went to his office to change, his department meeting having run over.��

Try as you might, you can’t help the wanton tingle that sparkles down your spine under your dress, or heat creeping into your cheeks at the racy memories of the pleasure you found on his tongue, cock, and fingers. What you wouldn’t give for a quickie right now, just a little something to take the edge off…

“Excuse me, miss, where can we put the catering carts?” 

Right, I’m supposed to be working. Stuffing all the wicked thoughts swirling in your head to the back of your mind, you smile at the event server and direct him down the hall. Hearing the swell of voices from the lobby, you turn and see the first attendees filing into the atrium, dressed in cocktail dresses and suits. Your eyes search for Boba in the crowd but you’re quickly caught up doing your presentation on the library’s collections and resources.

It’s not until your last group before you hand over your representative duties to Selena for the remainder of the evening that you spot Boba leaning against the wall across from the desk, watching you with Fennec at his side. Your practiced spiel jumbles together at the wicked gleam shining in his eyes and he smirks, whispering something to the handsome woman next to him. Taking a sip of water, you recover and roll your shoulders back to stick your tits out just a little more with your chin held high at his challenge. 

After the group clears out and you hand things over to your friend, you saunter over to your two favorite professors. Sticking out a hip, you trail your eyes up the oxblood colored shirt stretched across Boba’s chest, taking in the delicious way his sharp onyx suit is tailored to his thick frame. Knowing what all is hidden underneath his clothes only makes the whole ensemble even hotter.  “Can I answer any questions about the library for you, professors?” you ask in a syrupy voice, your tone laced with dark sugar.

Gazing at you rather appreciatively, Fennec answers first. “Yeah, are you free later?” 

Your brows raise with a suggestive arch, biting your lip and leaning into her game. “Why, what do you have in mind?” you shoot back, letting your gaze linger on her pink lips.

She’s practically purring, running her long, graceful fingers down the length of your arm. “Why don’t you come home with me and find out, kitten?”

“Mmm sorry, no can do, Fenn,” you hum, flicking your eyes over to an amused Boba, “I already made plans with the new Mandalorian studies professor after this.”

“What? That old man?” she scoffs, flicking her intricate braid over her shoulder. 

Boba throws an elbow at her, grumbling, “We’re the same karking age, Shand.”

“Well, Fett, I guess some of us just wear it better then.”

“I don’t know, that’s not what she was moaning in my ear last weekend,” Boba replies, as smooth as Corellian whiskey and just as sinful. A jolt of arousal shoots between your thighs, his open possessiveness sending heat straight to your core. 

That remark earns a full-bellied laugh from Fennec. “Touché.” 

Another faculty member passes by and steals Fennec away, allowing you to slip into her spot next to Boba and press your arm against his. While you don’t intend to hide your more-than-professional relationship with him, you don’t want to draw judgment down on either of you. “Fenn make you a little jealous?” you tease, bumping your elbow against him.

He smirks, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Not when I know you’re coming home with me, princess.” He slips a hidden hand between you and the wall to skim his fingertips down your back to settle his palm just above the swell of your ass, making your skin light up with the sensation of him. “It’s good to see you, babygirl, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it before the reception started,” he adds in a sweet, low voice, pressing a quick kiss into your hair. “And your presentation was excellent.”

You lean into him for just a heartbeat, savoring his affection before breaking away. The heated pulse between your thighs spurs you on. “Oh, you were actually listening? Looked to me like you were peeling this dress off me in your mind.”

“I heard you're supposed to imagine everyone else naked to do public speaking.”

You smack his arm, giggling. “That’s if you’re the speaker!”

“Ah well, it was worth it anyways,” he grins at you. Seeing a group approaching, he regretfully takes his hand off your back.

A few faculty from the biology department come over and greet you, its ever-affable head, Professor Bernard, pressing a glass of champagne in your hand. “The department of biology’s honorary member needs a drink!” he proclaims with a hearty laugh before clapping a hand on Boba’s shoulder, telling him, “Come see this one here if you need anything. She’s found papers and journals I didn’t even know still existed!”

“I’ve heard she has some… special skills,” Boba answers with a quirk of his lips.

Catching the tone gilding his words, you slide your gaze over to him and see that same mischievous twinkle in his eye. Oh, so it’s going to be like that then? Hope he knows what he’s started. The conversation continues as introductions are made on both sides and stories of the first week of classes are shared.

“You didn’t get stateside until a few weeks before the semester? How on earth did you manage to get everything done, old sport?” Bernard questions.

“Oh, that would be thanks to me,” you interject, grinning at the ensuing laughter, “Lucky for Professor Fett here, I was able to work very closely with him to get everything he needed.”

“And for that, I am eternally grateful. It’s not everyday you get someone who's so eager and willing to please,” Boba replies calmly, sipping from his own drink like he’s simply discussing the weather.

You cover your scoff with your glass and drain the rest of it. “And now since he owes me one, I’ve got him at my mercy. Just where I like him.”

“Looks like you’re in for it now, my friend!” the old biology professor guffaws, grasping Boba’s hand in a firm shake. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Fett. Stop by my office for a drink some time.”

The group moves on to the next familiar face in the crowd, leaving you and Boba alone. “Better watch it, princess,” he rumbles, enticing danger coating his words, “Or I won’t show you any mercy later tonight.”

With a cursory glance to confirm that no one is watching, you brush your lips over his ear, just enough to raise chill bumps on his tan skin. “Oh, professor,” you whisper, sordid and low, “that’s what I’m counting on.”

Though he’s never confirmed it in so many words, you know your professor likes to watch you play your little games, talk and flirt and ensnare yourself so deep in your own undoing you have no choice but to beg him for mercy when the night is over. He’s the patient hand of justice to your calculated subversive impulse, the solid weight to balance your scales. He’s the rock you scrape your match against to set your passions ablaze. 

You’d learned to build bonfires, great roaring things, on the summer camping trips you’d taken with your cousins as a kid. You were even quite good at it, the framing of the timbers and the flick of the wrist necessary to strike the flint coming naturally to you. Maybe that’s why you were so good at burning through Boba’s patience with slippery innuendos and heated looks.  

You know building a fire takes time; seasoned wood must be gathered, tinder procured, a spot cleared for the blaze, all this before the pyre can be built stick by stick. If constructed correctly, the dry litter would catch the struck spark and burn bright and hot, igniting the kindling to crackle and snap, eventually spreading the growing flames to the larger logs for a sustained burn. If the ratio of smaller sticks and thicker pieces was off or the build of the bonfire didn’t allow enough oxygen in to feed the early feeble flames, then the pyre would be nothing more than a smoking pile of cold wood. And that would not bring Boba to a boil, make him spill over hot and scalding in vexed passion. 

His restraint and control were truly commendable. To his credit, he’d spent the larger part of the evening calmly watching you work the room during the baccalaureate reception, gifting smiles and glittering laughs to men who didn’t deserve them and to women who wouldn’t actually do anything with them, even if they wanted to. You are in your element and you know it, making you not only powerful but dangerously so.

Taking a sip of the sparkling flute of champagne pressed into your hand by the one of the history department, you let your eyes wander around the vibrant space, taking in the celebratory atmosphere around you as laughter and animated conversation twine together in a lively buzz. You take your time in your survey, knowing that your gaze would eventually land on what it sought. You spot Selena next to one of the exquisite floral arrangements decorating the room laughing with one of the film professors and Fennec leaning against one of the polished marble columns in deep conversation with a pretty woman with sparkling eyes. Looks like I’m not the only one going home with somebody tonight.

Finally, your languid scan of the party falls on its target: a certain Mandalorian studies professor. He looks truly glorious under the glistening chandeliers illuminating the library, they cast a soft, warm glow that makes his bronze skin gleam and scars glint with tantalizing effect. It’s his eyes, however, that make your knees go weak: they shine dark and expressive, the umber of them always on you no matter where you found yourself in the room. If eyes really are the windows to the soul like they say, then Boba Fett has a soul like the ocean, with unknowable depths and enough pressure to break bones, towering waves that doom sailors and hidden currents that whisk the unsuspecting into the abyss.

Gods above, you want to drown in him even if it takes calling down Poseidon's wrath to do so. You’ve built your pyre, now all that’s left is to light it. 

Putting on your most dazzling smile, you sidle over to the drinks table to casually “bump” into Professor Lancaster, the admittedly handsome 30-something hot shot bachelor of the university faculty. “Oh, I am so sorry!” you apologize in a breathy rush, immediately grabbing a napkin to dab at the splash of champagne on the young man’s suit jacket. The look of surprise on Lancaster’s face swiftly morphs into opportunistic pleasure when he sees that the person with their hands on him is the young research librarian in a tight dress.

He grins. It’s a scavenger’s smile, hungry for a kill that isn’t his. “No worries, bright eyes. You okay?” 

“Better now that I’m with you.” His brows shoot up and, you’re absolutely sure, so does his dick based on the way his pupils dilate. “Sorry,” you giggle, fluttering your lashes, “too much?”

You can feel how his greedy gaze slides over your exposed skin in open interest. “Maybe not enough,” he winks, “Let’s get you another drink.”

You spend the next twenty minutes at the young professor’s side as he slowly inches you towards the side door by circulating from one group to another under the guise of “making introductions”—like you didn’t already work at the university. The entire time you sneak peeks at Boba watching your antics with rapidly decreasing levels of patience. Eventually, you lose sight of him behind a cluster of English professors.

You’re literal feet from the exit when Lancaster slides a hand down to your waist, tugging you against his side by your hip bone. “What do you say, bright eyes? Wanna get out of here?”

The pompous look on his face tells you everything you need to know about this man: he’s used to getting what he wants and he’s not afraid to take advantage of your possible inebriation to get it. He’s disgusting. Suddenly, you’re very conscious of how much you dislike this man and consider slamming your heel down on his overpriced loafer. Before you get the chance, however, a familiar deep voice sounds from behind your back.

“Excuse me, I have some business with this one here.” Boba’s voice leaves no room for disagreement, at least if one was smart enough to know it.

Lancaster, unsurprisingly, is not. “We were just leaving,” he says dismissively with an annoyed expression, reaching to turn you towards the exit, “It’ll have to wait.”

“Don’t think it can,” Boba responds flatly. He grabs your bicep and peels you out of his grasp. Ignoring the younger man’s sputtering as he leads you down one of the hallways branching off from the atrium, going far enough that the noise from the reception starts to fade off. Rounding the corner into the stacks, he abruptly flattens you against the wall, caging you in and pinning you with his hips. 

If his slight manhandling of you before had you wet, this has you soaked: his thick forearm rests on the wall next to your head while his other hand remains locked around your upper arm, just tight enough to remind you it could bruise if it got any tighter. His hips, however, are likely to leave their mark on yours—it’s all enough to drive you nearly insane with desire. You’re too hot for your own skin and Boba is radiating enough heat to brand you and melt your brain like wax.

“Not so brave now, are you, little princess?” Boba croons, licking his lips like he can taste your salt on his tongue. “Now that you’ve got nowhere to run and no pretty boys to bat your lashes at.” His muscular thigh pushes its way between your own and he grinds up into your center, forcing a moan up behind your teeth.

“I have… no idea… what… you’re talking… about,” you gasp, writhing on his thigh as your hands fly out to fist his suit jacket in a gnarled grip. You can feel your brain melting down the sides of your skull under his piercing gaze.

“Oh, you don’t?” he mocks, “Well let me enlighten you then, sweetheart. You spent the entire evening driving every man and the women Shand didn’t get to first out of their minds with your pretty little face and flirty little mouth. And all for what, to get my attention?” 

You’re burning so hot you can’t even think, much less get your tongue to unstick to form a coherent sound, so all you can answer with is round, shiny eyes and a shiver.

“Well, now you have it, princess,” he continues, a predatory smirk slashing across his dark features that makes your insides twist with his danger. “What are you gonna do with it?”

“I-I was just having fun,” you manage, your voice coming out hoarse and pitchy. Boba’s pressed so far into you that you’re scraping along his thigh as you ride it.

He grunts, shaking his head in disbelief. “She says she was ‘just having fun…’” he mumbles to himself as if the thought is amusing to him. You flash a tentative smile in hopes of sweetening him up, but the lurid flash in his eyes signal that it’s far too late for such mercy. “If that’s what you do for fun, princess,” he hisses out the pet name, “then it looks like I need to keep you on a shorter leash.” Releasing your bicep, Boba’s hand wraps around your throat faster than your muddled perception can register.

The strangled curse that claws up from your chest can’t even escape the confines of your throat to sound. Blood rushes to your head as your entire existence narrows down to the rough hand pressing in on your airways. You’re gushing into your panties, the amount of wetness now coating your thighs utterly obscene. Fuck he’s going to be the death of me and I want him to do it.

Boba’s rumble of pleasure at your response rattles in your own chest as he eases up on the pressure of his fingers to let you suck in desperate air, rubbing the delicate flesh underneath. “Oh, you liked that didn’t you? You like it when I’m rough, dirty girl.” His taunts are pouring fire into your bloodstream and sweat begins to slick your skin. Leering, he drags his tongue over your racing pulse point and your mind goes searingly blank. For a moment, you think you might have actually come with the way blinding pleasure floods your entire body.

“Fuck, Boba!”

A sinful chuckles drips from his plush lips into your damp skin, and he seals it away there with a wet kiss before pulling back to look into your glazed eyes. “Do you know what I do with brats who forget their place?” he asks in a timbre so low you can feel it in your bones.

This you know, you think, this you can push back on and regain some ground. “You punish them with your silly little toys and spank their asses a bit,” you spit out, your derision honed sharp as your initial surprise begins to wear off.

“Oh no, princess, you’d enjoy that too much.” An acidic laugh pours from his lips, making your blood run painfully cold, and he smiles at you like you’re struggling prey caught in his maw. “What I do,” he growls, “is I don’t let them come.”

Before the words even leave the air between you, Boba releases you and pushes away from the wall where he had you pinned. You stumble forward, your head spinning with the dizzying loss of contact and terrifying revelation. Panic sticks needles into your skin. He wouldn’t… he couldn’t. He couldn’t, right?!

“Aww, is that not what you were expecting, sweetheart?” Boba asks with a crushing amount of false sympathy, chucking up your chin on two fingers. You’re coming apart at the seams and he loves it. “Thought you could pull one over on me?”

Heart pounding against your ribs, you race to figure a way to repair your situation, one that ended up with him fucking you through at least one orgasm. Kark, why did I think this was all a good idea again? Gods I’m so kriffing wet I can’t think. Come on… focus, focus!  The second you get the idea you act on it, wasting no time debating its worth.

You drop to your knees right in front of him, yanking him forward by his belt buckle. Boba catches himself against the wall with an outstretched arm and a curse, his smug expression shattered by genuine shock. As he stares down at you with wild eyes, you grin a wicked thing. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was that not what you were expecting?”

Boba stares at you like you’ve remade his entire universe, his broad chest heaving under the straining buttons of his shirt. Sucking in a ragged breath, he hauls you to your feet and slams into you, his hand cupping the back of your skull so it doesn’t hit the wall when his lips crash into yours. You pulse and throb into one another, your every breath melting into his as your hands claw into clothes seeking the heat of the other. He becomes you and you become him as time stops moving—if only for a minute. 

“Baby, princess, angel,” Boba moans into your mouth, “I gotta have you, I have to have you right fucking now. Go to your office and start touching yourself. Get yourself nice and ready so I can slide right into that perfect cunt as soon as I get you home. I’m going to pull the car around.”

Your panties don’t even make it into the house: Boba literally tears them off you as soon as he puts the car in park in his driveway, stuffing them into his pants pocket and promising to buy you a hundred more so he can do it again. Stumbling with you up the blessedly short path to his front door with a handful of your ass, Boba jams his key into the lock and you both tumble in the door, lips still connected. “Shit, aren’t you always good for a surprise?” he pants between kisses, fumbling with the door bolt until it locks behind him. “Dropping to your kriffing knees in the library. Kark, couldn’t even punish you after that, my bold little princess. Made me too fucking hard.”

Your lips smile against his as you push his jacket from his shoulders. “You just bring it out of me, sir, I-I can’t help it. Couldn’t stand the thought of not having you.” Boba groans at the epithet and you start pulling open his buttons with shaking hands. “That’s why I do it… can’t help myself, just want you so kriffing bad.” When you reach his pants at the end of his shirt, he snatches your wrists and spins you so your back is shoved against the door.

“You’re so good to me, so fucking good. Even when you’re a brat, you’re my little angel, doing it all for me. Maker, you’re perfect.” Boba snags the hem of your dress and bunches it over your hips, allowing the cool air access to your slick folds and making you shiver. “Good girls get rewarded, don’t they, princess? Yeah, that’s right. I’m going to make you feel so, so good, give you the reward you deserve.”

Your desire-dazed brain can’t decide whether to focus on the stream of filth pouring forth from his mouth or his lips as they kiss over your dress and down to your soft belly as he comes to kneel in front of you. Effortlessly tossing your leg over his shoulder while balancing you against him, Boba steadies your body with his hands on your hips. “Will you let me return the favor, pretty girl? Will you let me lick up this perfect pussy?”

Smiling down at him with lust-blown eyes, you answer in a breathy laugh. “But I didn’t even actually suck you off.”

“Bet you would have, though, princess, if I had let you.”

Fuck, he’s probably right. You weren’t kidding when you said you can’t help yourself. “Yeah, I would have,” you giggle, “Why didn’t you?” The thought of slipping his thick cock in between your lips when all those other people were just a hallway away sends a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your core.

“Mmm because I want to hear every single sound that comes out of your mouth tonight… and none of those fuckers deserve to even think about you, much less hear those sweet noises you make when you’re coming apart.” Boba begins layering sloppy kisses over your thighs and abdomen, circling ever closer to your drenched center. His dark eyes flick you to capture yours in a heated gaze. “Let me hear it, pretty baby, can I eat this sweet cunt?”

Lacing your fingers with his hand on your opposite hip, you lean your head back on the door. “Please, sir, please let me have your tongue.”

The words don’t even finish leaving your lips before he dives into between your legs, groaning like a man starved getting his first meal in months. The sounds of his slurping and sucking have your knees giving out almost immediately, rapturous pleasure consuming your entire being. All that exists is the way his tongue fucks into you, the way his lips wrap around your aching clit and how he pulls moans deep from within your stuttering chest. When his thick, calloused fingers push inside your weeping heat and curl, your hand slaps over your mouth to stifle a ragged scream as explosions of color blur your vision.

Boba claps his palm against your ass and pops off your clit. “Don’t you fucking dare cover that mouth of yours. I want to hear everything, sweetheart, I want you to wake up the whole fucking neighborhood with how good I make you feel.” 

The torturous coil in your belly tightens to a delicious pain and you let your pleasure be heard, your jaw falling slack as your head tips back against the heavy wooden door. Boba redoubles his efforts, cursing and praising, sucking and licking, twisting you tighter and tighter around your own desire until it’s almost unbearable. When a third finger slips into you, it feels like the floor drops from beneath your feet and you know you're doomed to your desire. “Please, can I-can I-”

“Fucking come all over me,” he growls straight into your clit, digging so deep into you think you see the Maker.

A wail tears free from your chest, echoing off the walls and vibrating in your skull as you dissolve into pure pleasure, raw and vulnerable against the mountain of his body. To be so ethereal and untouchable in his arms is a new, divine dimension of your ecstasy that heals you even as you fall apart into a soaked, quivering mess. 

“Nau’ul be kar’ta,” Boba coos in a voice like crushed velvet, rich and dark, “my beautiful, perfect girl, come here.” You collapse in a trembling heap into his waiting arms, your mind nothing but a plane of warm, fuzzy bliss. You’re lifted and arranged in his lap by impossibly strong hands as you drift through the glowing stars of your high. Boba rocks you gently against his heaving chest, a stream of patient praise streaming from his lips pressed into your hair. “You did so good for me… taste so sweet, makes me want to keep you on my tongue forever… kark, bet the whole street is jealous with how loud you were, such a good girl, letting me hear that sweet voice just like I asked…”

Eventually your senses start to return and you wiggle around to straddle him, placing your molten core directly over top of his straining erection and eliciting a graveled groan from him. “Mmm, that was amazing, professor,” you hum into his throat, “Now let me return the favor.” You tug his shirt off and he lets you drop it to the floor. “I wanna go over every single tattoo on your body with my tongue until it’s all I can remember.” 

“Kark, you’re filthy, princess,” he groans, his cock twitching with interest underneath his pants as hauls you up with him off the floor. By the time you stagger to the bedroom, your clothes are gone, littered in a trail from the door to his room. Seizing your opportunity, you shove him back on the mattress and hop on top of him, pushing a grunt from him that makes you giggle. “Easy, little one, I’m not as young as I once was,” he grits out between your kisses.

Grinning into the thick muscle of his pec, you nip at the ink you just traced with your tongue. “Sorry, I forgot I have to be careful with you, old man.” Boba pinches your ass and you squeak, though you remain unrepentant.

“You must want me to be mean to you tonight, sweetheart.”

You continue licking and sucking over the dark swirling patterns on his chest. “Mmm, maybe I do.” While you’d never been much for that sort of thing before, none of those men before had been Boba. If his praise is sweeter than honey you can only imagine how delicious his ire would be, and something hot sparks between your legs. “But I wouldn’t want to wear you out, old timer.”

A dangerous, low chuckle emanates from the ribs under your lips and your insides twist into knots. “You really know how to bring it out of me, don’t you, naughty princess? I think you really do want me to be mean, want me to treat you just like how you’ve been acting all evening.” Snatching you against his chest, he grabs your jaw in a tight grip. “Tell me, little one, is that what you want? You want me to call you names and remind you who you belong to?” He brushes his thumb over your cheek in a small show of affection that reminds you this is all a game, and you can call it off if you want to. It makes your heart sing—and your pussy clench.

“Yes, Boba,” you rasp, molten desire pumping hot and heady under your heated skin, “I want that, please.” You’ve accepted the fact that Boba Fett makes you want things that you never have before, sinful things that make your cheeks burn and heart race. It’s a forbidden fruit that the professor is all too willing to indulge you in, him licking up its sweet juice as it dribbles down your chin.

“Anything you don’t want me to call you? Any limits you want to set?” he questions, his voice taking on that firm, guiding tone he always used when he worked through things with you. 

Chewing your lip, you consciously slow your breath like how Boba taught you so you can focus in the moment when you’re all worked up. “Don’t call me ‘bitch’ or anything too serious like that. ‘Whore’ and ‘slut’ are fine though.”

He nods, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Remember to stop me if you don’t like something, babygirl, I’ll never be upset if you do. What’s our word?”

“Kamino,” you answer dutifully, wriggling a little in your excitement, desire licking up your thighs—your evening-long machinations were about to come to fruition.

“Good girl,” he praises, “Ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

The dominant, possessive side Boba tucked away during your discussion returns tenfold more wicked now that it’s all decided. He sits up, taking you with him as drops down into the armchair against the wall. “Then get on your knees,” he sneers, “You want to act like a whore, throwing yourself at everyone who shows you any interest in that tight little dress you had on, I’m going to treat you like one. I want you sucking my dick like that’s all you know how to do.”

You drop so fast it makes your head spin, allowing your base desire to freely submit. You undo his belt with hungry fingers, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants to reveal his half-hard girth. Instead of yanking down the last barrier separating him from your tongue, you run your nails up his thighs and drag your open mouth over his growing bulge over his underwear, pulling a hiss from his lips.

“I didn’t say tease me, girl,” he admonishes, though he’s fully hard now, straining against the confines of the fabric still on him. “If you do as you’re told, maybe I’ll think about giving that pussy what I know it needs.”

You moan into him, his cock jumping at the feeling. You tear down his underwear and his beautiful cock springs forth, proud and already leaking. “Fuck,” you exhale as you take him all in, “you’re so big.” Kark, I swear he’s even bigger than last time.

“Aw, don’t be scared, sweetheart, I like it when they choke,” he taunts with a cruel chuckle that goes straight to your sopping cunt. He pumps his tanned length a few times and your mouth waters at the sight of it. “Now open up that pretty mouth.”

Your jaw drops open and you stick your tongue out, wide and ready, your hands folded in your lap. Wiggling in anticipation, you blink big eyes up at him through your lashes. 

“Fuck, look at you. You’re fucking filthy for me, aren’t you? On your knees right where you belong, tongue out like the good little slut you are. Go ahead, princess, I know you want it.” He smacks the head of his cock on your waiting tongue and you lunge forward, ravenous for more of him. He groans as you swirl around his frenulum, lapping off the pearls of precum waiting for you. Your hands travel up his thighs and he releases his grasp to let you replace it with your own.

Cupping his balls, you plant wet, sloppy kisses down his length, pleased when you feel the slightest tremble in his thighs. Peeking up at him, you find Boba looking down at you, his eyes pitch black and voracious in their desire. Keeping your gaze fixed on him, you lean in and pepper kisses around his base before flicking your tongue out to drag along the seam of his balls.

“Shit-fuck!” His right hand flies to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Kark, you’re dirty,” he rasps, tugging your face back a little to look in your eyes. 

You grin up at him, spit already dripping down your chin. “Just for you, sir.” Your voice is breathy, your chest already heaving from exertion. 

“Good girl, learning her place already. Now finish this up for me, little princess, I still have to fill that pussy full so everyone knows just who you belong to.” The whimper that falls from your lips would have been embarrassing if you weren’t so turned on you can barely form a thought that isn’t concerned with getting his dick inside you. “Aw, does that make you wet, pretty baby?” he mocks, clearly enjoying your depraved reactions. “You like it when I talk to you like you’re my personal whore, my warm mouth and tight little pussy to take whenever I feel like it?”

You pull at the hand holding you back by your hair, desperate to have him down your throat, desperate to cry and gag at the size of him. Boba chuckles, deep and pleased in his chest and loosens his grip so you can get him back in your eager mouth. Once you have him heavy on your tongue, you hum happily and begin bobbing your head over his velvet length, gradually taking more of him into your mouth. Boba’s hips stutter when you slide your tongue along the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock, triggering your gag reflex. 

You try to swallow down the suffocating feeling, but the sheer girth of him makes your throat close up. Choking and coughing, you pull off of him, tears beading in your lashes and spit running down your neck. Boba takes your face in his warm, calloused hands and tilts your face up to him. “Everything okay, little one? Too much?” he asks, concern lining his handsome face.

“No,” you pant, voice already ragged, “‘s perfect, just caught me by surprise.” You smile up at him then turn your head to kiss his palm. He’s so good to you that it makes you ache.

He swipes his thumbs over your cheeks, wiping away the moisture collected on your lashes. “Okay, I want you to tap me anywhere three times if you need to stop. It’s the same as our word if you can’t speak. Can you say that back to me so I know you understand?” You nod, repeating back the information. “That’s my good girl,” he beams, “Now I think there’s something you need to finish.”

You’re on him in an instant, guiding him back into your waiting mouth hungrily. As much as you love licking and sucking up and down his cock, slurping and swirling with abandon, what you really want is to do is take him to the hilt and swallow him down until he loses control. Taking what hasn’t made it past your lips in hand, you start pumping him and twisting your wrist, your fingers sliding easily over his spit-soaked skin.

“Fuuuu- that’s it,” he grunts, “look at you taking me so well. You must really want me to fuck you, my filthy little princess, must really want- shit.” He hisses, his hand shooting out to brace himself against the wall when slide enough of him in your mouth to take your hands off him to rest them on his hips. You look up to see his eyes screwed shut and his jaw clenched, and you hum appreciatively around the thickness stuffing your mouth, “Osik, d-do it, I know you can take it all, sweetheart. Do it for me and-shit-and I’ll fuck you so good I’ll be dripping from your pussy for days.”

You moan, your throat relaxing to take the last inch and you swear you could’ve come just from the sound that ripped free from his chest if it didn’t take all your brainpower to keep him seated in your mouth.

“Kark-fucking-stars above,” Boba chokes out, his free hand coming to guide you up and down his cock at a steady pace, “Look at you taking it all, I’m so proud of you, so p-proud, fuck, pretty girl.” His eyes are locked onto where he’s disappearing over and over again into your open mouth.

Blinking up at him with watery eyes, you swallow around his thick cock and he snarls. He tugs you off him and pulls you up into his arms, kissing you like he needed you to breathe and walking you both back until your thighs hit the bed. It feels like he’s everywhere, his tongue filling your mouth, his hands grabbing every inch of you as his hips pin down your own. “Shit, open up those legs for me, princess, I need to be inside you right fucking now.”

You fall back on the mattress, letting your thighs fall open. “Please, sir,” you gasp when two of his thick fingers slide inside you with no resistance.

Boba groans, the sound so deep it feels like it rattles in your own. “This fucking wet just from sucking my dick. Kark, you’re really a whore for an old man aren’t you, sweetheart?” You can only moan in response, clenching around his rough fingers and keening into him, unable to communicate any more of an answer than that. “Cockdumb already, little princess? Here I thought you were my big girl… maybe I should just go back to fucking your mouth if you’re not going to use it. You certainly were eager to run it earlier though, weren’t you? Talking to all those other men like they could possibly make your sweet little pussy feel like I can.”

His thumb finds your clit and you cry out, arching into him. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me, please give me your cock!” Your head is snatched back by your hair, making a high whine catch in your abused throat at the sudden movement.

“You know better than to say my name,” he threatens, his rasp dangerously low. “Mmm, since you suck cock so good I’ll let it slide this one time, but you had better not forget again, little girl. You hear me?” Boba’s eyes are ablaze with dark fire, the intensity of him burning with the heat of a dying star, sucking you into his inescapable gravity. 

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” you whimper. His scalding words are going to make you come apart at the seams just as much as his fingers.

“Oh, you will be.” He pulls out you with an obscene squelch, a trail of your arousal connecting him to you. “Look at that, my princess wants it so bad. She wants anything I fucking give her. Isn’t that sweet? No, you know what, don’t answer that. Be a good little slut and clean this up for me.” He pushes his slick coated fingers past your swollen lips and you moan at the tang of your own arousal, your heady taste spreading over your tongue as you suck his fingers clean. He removes his hand from your face, the digits in your mouth coming out with a lewd pop.  

Lining himself up with your dripping slit, Boba takes your face gently in his large hand, the caress so much softer than his previous words. “Hey, look at me, babygirl.” You slide your gaze up his broad chest to find his sable eyes. “You good? Everything okay? I know I usually prep you a little more than this.”

“Yeah, s’good. I’m so fucking wet, bet you’ll slide right in,” you giggle, slurred and happy. Truthfully, you hope it’d hurt a little, just enough so that you’d feel it tomorrow—a secret reminder that you were his.

Boba gives you a smile, a real smile bright and shining, not one of his mean ones from your game. “Okay, little one. Remember you can say your word or tap me three times if it gets to be too much. I don’t want my princess hurting.”

Golden affection blooms in your chest even as you give him a sassy little salute. “Yessir.”

“Maker, what am I going to do with you?” he huffs, exasperated. The twinkle in his eye betrays him, however.

“Hopefully, fuck me.”

“As you wish, brat.” Boba slots his lips over yours and slides into your heat, inch by inch as you moan into each other’s mouths, completely enraptured with the feeling of one another. When he pulls back to sink in further, he hisses out a curse. “How’re you always so fucking tight? Shit, you feel so fucking good.”

The way he’s slowly splitting you open makes your eyes roll back in your head, your hands scrabbling across his shoulders for purchase. “Fuck, you’re going to tear me in two… don’t stop,” you whine. The stretch around his cock burns, quickly fizzling into hot pleasure that makes you crave more, deeper, harder. It’s ungluing the edges of your mind, pushing your good sense out of your skull one thick inch at a time. Tears prick your eyes at the delicious strain, your teeth biting down on Boba’s lip as he pushes flush with your hips. You’re not sure if the guttural moan is his or yours or both combined, you’re so full of him.

Boba snaps his hips, jolting you further up the bed and setting a harsh pace that has your legs shaking around his hips. You’re burning, melting, screaming, completely wrecked by his pleasure. He’s leaning over you now, an arm bracing himself next to your head as he drills into you with unwavering force. Tearing his lips from yours, he licks a searing stripe up your neck that makes you clench around his pounding thrusts. “Fuck, you think that boy can fuck you like this? Think he can stretch you out on his cock and make you cry and beg for him? Hmm?”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks. Whimpering, you shake your head. “N-no, s-sir, only you! Onlyyouonlyyou, fuck, only you!” 

“Fuck, you’re dirty, aren’t you? Ready to suck my dick with all those people there, riling me up all night so I’d take you back here and fuck you like the slut that you are for me. That’s right, isn’t it? Yeah, I know it is. You’re such a good little slut for me, taking my cock like that’s all you were made for. Kark, I bet you’d let me fuck you in front of all of them wouldn’t you, my filthy little princess?”

You moan, raking your nails down his back and making him curse in pleasure. “I w-would do anything, you feel so good, fuck, I would let you do anything to me! Just don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

 “You want it, huh? You want me to fuck you and make you all mine, fill up that tight little cunt and so my cum runs down your legs? You gonna take every drop I give you like the good little girl I know you are?”

“Yes, sir, please,” you sob, overwhelmed by the rough drag of him against your collapsing walls and his skin burning into you with each thrust of his powerful hips.

“Then tell me who this pussy belongs to, I wanna hear you say it so you never karking forget it again.”

“You, you, it belongs to you!”

“Say my name, princess, say my fucking name.”

“Boba! It belongs to you, Boba Fett, I’m all fucking yours, Boba, please!”

He pulls back, grabbing the back of your thighs and shoving them up, folding you in half. Slamming back into you, he slides a hand between your bodies to rub your clit in tight, maddening circles. 

“More, please more!” you beg, clawing at his free hand until he lets you have it, and you place it on your throat. 

Boba growls, wrapping his fingers around your neck and squeezing so that your world narrows down to just the feeling of him. Finally just him and nothing else.“Osik, you’re so fucking filthy and perfect, never wanna stop fucking this sweet cunt. K’atini ner cyare!”

“I’m gonna… can I… please,” you choke out, barely holding onto the last shreds of your sanity against the onslaught of ecstasy burning through you.

Groaning, Boba covers your mouth with his. “Come for me, soak my cock, give it to me, come on, princess, I know you can do it.”

Everything goes blank, your muscles constricting and your nails digging into his shoulders. Pure, electric energy fires through your veins, overloading your senses to a searing bright pleasure that makes you understand how the universe could start with a bang. You’re rocked with two, three, more pumps that shatter your fledgling universe and then you’re flooded with the sweet heat of his release.

You’re not entirely sure if you’re conscious as you float through the glittering galaxies that flash behind your eyes in dazzling color; you’re not even sure you remember how to breathe but you must be, because your lungs aren’t protesting. The next thing you’re truly aware of is being in Boba’s arms, laying curled into his chest on the bed while his fingers scratch pleasantly against your scalp. Humming in delight, you snuggle deeper into his woody scent.

“Mmm, there she is,” he chuckles, the warm sound buzzing in his chest.

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head, squeezing your eyes back shut—you want to be lost in him forever.

“Gotta come back some time, pretty girl, or I can’t get you in a nice warm bath then tuck you in bed with me,” he entreats, rubbing warmth into your limbs with calloused hands.

You consider this tempting offer; it certainly would be better than sleeping sticky all night, you suppose. “Can you bring me a snack?”

“I can bring you a snack.”

“And I can have a massage?”

Boba lets out an amused huff, giving you a squeeze. “And I will give you a massage,” he confirms.

You make a show of pondering the issue further, chewing your lip and studying the ceiling thoughtfully. “I guess I’ll allow it then, professor.”

Boba laughs again and eases you both up to a sitting position before sliding from underneath you so he can walk around to your side.

Rolling over, your thighs spread a little, and you gasp and slap them back together when you see the mess there. “Boba!” you squeak. 

“What, little one?”

“You, it-it,” you stutter, tripping over the words in your shock, “how is there so much?”

He cocks a brow and you let your legs fall all the way open. “Oh, princess,” he breathes out, his voice a strained rasp. The inside of your thighs are slick with both your cum and your folds are coated in his pearly release, the excess dripping down to soak a spot on his sheets. Boba reaches down and spreads your lower lips a little farther apart, sending more of him leaking down your slit. Boba curses and you bite down hard on your bottom lip around the moan flooding up your chest.

“Well,” he grins, smug as the cat who caught the canary, “I did tell you I was going to fill you full, princess.”  

Feeling equally refreshed and drowsy from your warm bath, you robotically go through the motions of your nighttime routine. From his bathroom mirror, you catch a glimpse of Boba where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed: he looks forlorn, his eyebrows furrowed over a pensive expression. For such a larger-than-life man, he seems almost… small. 

His pain weighs heavy on your soul, prompting a visceral reaction in your gut. The muscles in your chest tighten and your arms yearn to press him close so there would be no room for pain in his body. Flicking off the light, you pad over to him with deliberate ease as not startle him in his revelry; Boba is a hardened man, you know, but you want to nurture that slip of vulnerability he allows himself in your presence, protect it close to your own.  

He smiles when he sees you approaching, quickly papering over his melancholy expression with a happier one, but it doesn’t manage to make it to his brown eyes. He spreads his legs a little wider so you can stand between them and pulls you close with his hands on your hips. “All done, princess?”

“Yep,” you answer, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. You let a few silent seconds slip by, making way for him to speak his mind. When he doesn’t acknowledge his latent discontent, you settle back on your heels with a sigh. “You gonna tell me what’s bothering you or am I going to have to threaten you again?”

Boba grumbles a huff that sounds a lot like “too observant” and tips forward to bury his face in your tits, pulling you further into him. You allow him a few moments of respite, stroking the back of his neck with light fingers before easing his face up to look at you. 

“It’s nothing, really-” he starts, his expression clouded over with false reassurances.

“Don’t try that crap with me,” you cut him off sternly. Then, more gently, you add, “Please Boba, be honest with me. You help me… let me help you.”

“You know I can’t deny you,” he mumbles after a moment, defeat echoing in the back of his throat. He leans forward, and you let him rest his cheek on your chest while he silently composes his thoughts as your fingers resume their patterns on his neck. “Watching you tonight… you are so bright and young and beautiful, and I’m just an old man with a scar for a heart that never quite worked right. You deserve… so much more than what I can give you. Someone who can make their words come out right because you deserve to know how special you are, cyar’ika. Someone who doesn’t have a past like mine, a person without so many sharp edges and broken parts. I’m missing pieces and you deserve someone who’s more… whole.”

There’s true pain in his voice, the agony and strife of a man who has endured and had to bear the cost of that survival on his own, with wounds that never completely healed alongside scars that run so deep they’re etched into his bone and being. If only he knew how beautiful it made him that he never let that secret soft part of him die, you think. That despite what would have been the logical choice for anyone in his position, he chose to tuck his tenderness away for safekeeping rather than letting it wither in reality’s harsh sun.

“Boba, I want you to listen to me and listen to me good.” You take his beautiful face between your palms and trace your thumbs over his cheekbones, mimicking the affectionate gesture he often used with you. This close you can see the dark lashes around his brown eyes and all the torment held within them; it makes you physically ache to know that this man, this perfect, wonderful man doesn’t think he deserves everything good and pure because he’s roughed up and his soul has some dings in it. That it somehow precluded him from deserving the same love he so willingly gives to you despite your own imperfections.

“I love you, Boba Fett, I love every scar on your body, every bruised muscle and broken bone. I love your dark, hidden parts just as much as the ones which see the light. You know why? Because they made you who you are, they made you into the man who makes me feel safe, makes me feel beautiful and happy. You are a man of action and that’s worth far more to me than any string of pretty words ever could be. You are enough and you are mine, and the sooner you accept that, the better.” 

By the way his fingers clutch into the plush of your hips, you can tell he desperately wants to believe you, that he wants to reject the jagged demon of doubt buried in his heart like old shrapnel. But Boba casts his eyes down, still unsure. 

“Do you trust that I can make my own decisions?” you ask, soft and firm, patient but unrelenting. He nods with a hum of agreement. Closing the gap between you, you rest your forehead against his creased brow, “Then let me make this one,” you whisper, kissing him until your lungs burn for air, and even then you stay on his lips for a few more lingering seconds.

Boba looks into your eyes, staring like you held all the secrets of the universe within them. After a couple of heartbeats, he loops his arms around your waist and pulls you back on top of him on the bed, making you yelp and giggle. Kissing you, he maneuvers the two of you under the blankets. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he breathes into you, the peaks and valleys of his father’s tongue rippling in your mind like cool water over rounded river stones. “Thank you for that, babygirl. I will try.”

You hadn’t yet asked him what any of the Mando’a words that slipped out of him meant, permitting him his secrets for now. Shifting your hips over his and deepening the kiss, you lick into his mouth as you lazily start to rut into him. Boba has given you a lot just now and you want to see that he’s rewarded for it.

“Little princess,” he chastens when your pace begins to pick up, “it’s late and I’m old.”

“You're not that old,” you nip at his lip, “and I’ll be on top.” You accent your offer with a grind of your hips that has him groaning at the friction between your bodies.  

“You're not a very good listener, are you?” he grunts, “Besides, I need you well rested for tomorrow. I'm taking you out on a date.”

You stop dragging your hips over his, pulling back to stare at him. “A date?! You didn't tell me that, I didn’t bring anything to wear!”

“That’s because first, I’m taking you to get some more of those little sundresses you like to tease me with so much, and then I thought we’d go to that poppy farm you showed me on your phone the other day. They have ice cream there and a lemonade stand.”

You squeal in delight, kissing Boba all over his handsome face while he smiles warmly up at you. “You are too good to me, Boba Fett!” you manage between your flurry of pecks. He puts the sun in your chest and in air in your sails, and on top of all that, he’s apparently a secret romantic.

“Princess, I'm just getting started. You mean so much to me and I'm going to do my best to never let you forget it.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you settle into his side, curling into him. “Now get some sleep, cyar’ika, I’ll be at your side, always.”

—Endnotes: I went to a poppy farm the other weekend and it was so effortlessly romantic I knew I had to write some Boba to go with it. (also don’t look at me like that, y’all KNEW this was gonna be a sugar daddy fic eventually lmao)

I've got some stuff coming up so the next posting will be two weeks out instead of one (I'm sorry 😭) but rest assured that I will be posting some extra snippets to make up for it!

Mando'a translations

(ner) cyare - (my) beloved, love

cyar’ika - sweetheart, darling, (a diminutive of cyare)

nau’ul be kar’ta - light of my heart

ni kar’tayl gar darasuum - I love you, (lit. "I hold you in my heart forever")

osik - Mando'a curse akin to "shit"

Part I — Part II — Part III — Part V Coming June 9!

[veiledsilver]

What Your Favorite Black Bull Says About You

I’m sure this list has been made already, but has a list been made with these sizzling hot takes that are specifically mine? Doubt it. Before you go in, this list was made for fun and not an actual attack on your character lol

Asta: You don't have the patience for this wizardry book nonsense, not when all you need is your huge muscles and willingness to throw hands. Essentially you're this post:

Noelle: It doesn't matter whether you love or loathe her siblings, you all want them to be punished on such a grand scale it resets the karmic balance forevermore, preferably in a hilarious fashion. You also think her next few outfit spells should include pants and a sports bra so Tabata can't traumatize you ever again.

Magna: You like delinquent tough guys with hearts of gold, or you like underdogs who never actually get a mysterious powerup that make them strong- or both! In any case, Magna is your special little boy and when he did THAT in the manga you damn near exploded. If you haven't seen it yet... I guarantee you will.

Luck: You like characters that act all bright and cutesy but... deep inside their hearts... they harbor d̵͍̲͑ä̴̜̻́͝ṛ̷̗̑̇k̶̟̿͘n̵̮͈͑ẻ̴̥ş̸̪̐͊s̴̙̀̐. To be fair Luck does not hide his feral energy deep within his heart but you still like the contrast between his cute :D face and the way he causes bodily harm. His backstory spoke to you in some way.

Finral: Hm. I would say you relate to his struggles as the least favorite kid in the family, or feel like you can't keep up with your peers in general... but it's actually his dyed tips isn't it. Also you have to deal with people being like "but isn't he a pervert?!" like ALL the time even though he's trying to be better. My heart goes out to you.

Gauche: I don't know if you guys actually exist, but if you do, you probably have to deal with people being like "but doesn't he nosebleed over his sister?!" like ALL the time even though he also kills people for her. You wish he had more moments where he's cool and strong and not nosebleeding.

Charmy: You saw Charmy going around eating food to her heart's content and wearing a cute sweatshirt instead of participating in the stupid male gaze and said "oh, I respect that." You like the rare fictional women who participate in traditionally female roles like cooking but can also be terrifying on command.

Henry: Henry is your poor little meowmeow and you want to snuggle him and feed him soup. Like, I may be exaggerating, but am I wrong? You may also like how cool his magic is- I mean, rearranging buildings is a pretty slapping power- and that he can still play a role in fights without his disability magically being cured or handwaved away.

Zora: You want the heroes to destroy the system that thrives on classism and corruption, and are disappointed that Zora kind of stopped doing that. Sorry, bro, but this is a shounen, and 2/3rds of the Big Three ended with the corrupt system not being destroyed, so. I think you listen to songs about bringing down the Man and not wanting to be an American.

Secre: Let me guess, you watched Princess Tutu. Well, if you didn't, Secre fans, I suggest you do. You think you're emo and want to drown in those moody feelings because you like it or your crush turned out to be dating someone already. Do you make those artsy monochrome edits of anime characters with kpop idols because I always see Secre on there.

Vanessa: Look into my (metaphorical) eyes. Do you have a complicated relationship with your mother? Hm... I see... really?... ok... well, I'm glad we had this talk! Anyway I'm guessing you really, really like women. I think that should be our topic of conversation next time. Just make sure you look respectfully.

Gordon: You probably also have that problem where people can't hear you and they're like "SPEAK UP I CAN'T HEAR YOU" until you give up. I can relate. You... also... (mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble. Mumble mumble mumble mumble).

Gray: You think shapeshifters are really cool and probably headcanon Gray as Not Cis in some way, which is extremely valid. You are proud of her for how she's starting to speak up and stand up for herself, although you might (like me) think she's way too good for Gauche. Sorry, Gauche fans. But she really is.

Yami: Quick! Close your eyes and visualize Yami! You didn't actually see Yami, did you. Only the wide expanse of his very defined abs. You either don't like Charlotte for being a homewrecker or you relate to her strongly. I don't think I've met even one Yami fan who hadn't been drawn to him for his tits you can crack walnuts in.

Nacht: If you went one anime generation back, you would be into Sasuke. I've never seen the show about Boruto's dad but I know this to be the case. They're both edgy, have dark powers, and have a tragic backstory involving their brothers. You want a significant other who's mean to everyone but you, but let's face it. Nacht will also be mean to you.

Morgen*: You want the illusion of the same thing, but you also actually want to be treated nicely instead of nitpicked for your flaws at all times. I know you have a fanfic of him not dying somewhere in your writing medium of choice. Come on, show it to us, don't be shy haha. Your fellow Morgen stans are withering away...

*I know he's a Grey Deer but I needed the joke to set up properly. Let me live

[itsmeatballworld]

this is gonna be my condensed thoughts/feelings as I finally catch up to the most current chapter in bs:a!

@darke15 you’re a genius and I luv youuuu

...

I had to make a new ao3 account after my computer denounced the website 😂😂

��

Okay so from chpts 65-69 I’m high key sweating every two minutes lol

The lying Ghost had to do was insane!! Girl was doing cartwheels dodging Bucky’s questions to the point I was so stressed! I feel so bad for them—I can’t imagine the pain of wanting to share something but knowing the repercussions and fear of the outcome.

But so much good/yummy fluff and smut was weaved through so I’m happy haha

“Did you fuck Captain America?”

“Did you fuck the Winter Soldier?”

^ honestly has to be one of my favorites 😂 I was squealing lmaoo

…

*this next part is dedicated to chpt. 70. And only chpt. 70.*

Exc-UUUSE MEEEE?! Did you wake up and decide on violence, Darke?! I’m IN TEARS. AGONY. DANNY OH MY GOD. I CANT DO THIS. I REFUSE. NO. NOO. NOOOO.

Wow goddamn if that hurt me I can’t imagine how much that hurt you when you wrote this scene. I mean Danny?!? Babes I’m withering in pain, full tears.

…

Chpt 71. What in the HELL IS GOING ON. So many people are getting hurt?! Dune, my loves. The whole team. I’m terrified for this chapter.

Oh my god Wraith is throwing Ghost under the bus as a HYDRA sleeper agent 🫣 what is HAPPENING RN

OKAY NOW WAIT HOLD ON WHAT THE FUKKK

DARKE

My GOD. WTFF.

Ollie?!? OLLIEEE

I was trying to be coordinated when doing this reaction post but NO WAY. NO WAYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!

He’s—! And I’m just—!

Oliver why—!

oh for the love of god 💀 I’m not strong enough for this

I have to say that Wraith being Ollie was a twisty twist I did NOT plan for. Now that he’s been revealed oh — I see it. Like I reread a quick scene from the early flashbacks and it does make so much sense. He and Ghost had some turbulence <literally lol> but I still am blown away. He’s got such a wild anger towards Ghost.

But now some serious concerns. What in the hell, Ollie?? Like he’s pretending to act like Danny?! BRO THAT IS MESSED UP.

Kinda glad it wasn’t Danny, tbh?? Maybe I’m crazy but I freaking love that man so much. His character and Ghost have been through so much that I’d hate that for them. Plus I picture Oscar Isaac for godsakes I can’t imagine him as my villain I’m sorry 😭😂

…………………. nOw HoLd Up Is DaNnY aCtUaLly DeAd

OH. OH NO. OH NO. NO NO. NOW THE FLASHBACK IS HURTING ME EVEN MORE.

*I took a week long break from reading after that 😭😭😂*

{but also realizing Origins is going into Danny and Ghost so… compromise? *crying continues*}

So, I’m back. Not refreshed — I’m thoroughly feeling bamboozled and stunned by Oliver. Man, he had me fooled 😔

Chpt. 72-73 wowowowow!!!

Bucky is so heartbroken ugh. Again. The lies and deceit have wounded him so deeply I hope he can recover when the truth comes out about Ghost and her working with Aftermath and Dune/Alpha Two…

These snippets into Oliver’s anger and planning is so terrifying. But that’s also a compliment haha. These scenes are so well done I want to punch him. Like real bad. This was supposed to be their friend and coworker Ollie! Not Ollie the Hydra lover 😭

Murder!Ghost is coming out to play 👀 !!

But on a serious note, Ghostie needs a break or she’s gonna snap. All that trauma and pain, without time to heal and process, would make any person crumble. I really hope not but she needs a break. Pronto!

…

Chpt 74, oh how I loved this!! So The Big 🍎 finally knows the truth. And he’s nice and possibly not surprised about Reader being Ghost. Love him. Love him and Boone. God I hope Bucky won’t hate Ghost too much after this!! [also screaming how cute Boone and Steve are *cries in single*].

…

Chpt 75: I love how you write these team dynamics. Like they’ve been through the worst things imaginable and they still got each other’s backs. Now that’s my found family!!!

The heartbreaking realization [again] of what damage had been done to Olympus and the surrounding area is wild. Having Ghost describe it through her eyes was agonizing. Everything being rubble and yet the memorial stone is standing tall... oof the image :( but at least Turner and the family are alive!!

“If Ollie wants to play the hero, I’ll give him a villain.”

-- ABSO-FREAKING-LUTELY YESS. This gave me chills ahhhh 

[OO and Novak ditching Wraith?! WHAT IS GOING ON]

...

 Chpt. 76!

I know Bucky is going through it right now, but at least he realized Ghost loves him. And the slight doubt about Ghost being ‘hydra’ is giving me life. Slowly but surely the team is finding this odd, but I’m glad Clint is thinking it through. This web that Ollie created is so insane and I can’t wait for the truth to come out!

Even though the next scene showed a badass machine that Ghost can be (and nearly terrified Bucky again *le sigh*) I have hope this will turn around haha. *sweating intensifies*

Plus, even though the whole Stark Tower/Avengers group was in panic during Ghost’s takedown of Wraith’s base in Kabul, I was thoroughly enjoying that scene <3 Badass Ghostie is fun!

Also Bucky still calls New Eden his ‘home’ so that’s a win, bro!

Ollie calling Ghost an “impulsive psychopath”... boy, please. We need him to look in the mirror hahaha.

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So... um... chpts 77-78: 

well holy hot damn. I ALMOST HAD A HEART ATTACK. Ain’t nobody touching Amma. No. I’d throw hands, I’m sorry haha. Girly, you had me going nuts like Ollie hurt Amma oh my goodddddddd! Boone was so sweet to get Amma the hell out of dodge. I love her with my whole heart, ugh! Ghost’s reaction to Amma being missing then reuniting with her had me teary ngl

Ghost’s internal monologue in Medellín about the team and who’s bullet holes did those belong to was so heart wrenching. Her panic attack?! Holy crap, my heart hurts so badly for her. All Ghost’s trauma and pain is really coming to a head with all of this stress and it’s making me so sad to see Ghost hurting like this.

“If she’d fought so hard to get away from them, Bucky could get her back”

—> hell fucking yes!

The chaos! Bucky loves Ghost, wants to find Ghost, but is going to make it worse if he does because of Oliver’s ties to the Avengers….. ugh a month went by and I feel like he’s slowly loosing faith in her *cries*

AND YESSSSS THE WEDDING OF THE CENTURY IS GONNA HAPPEN!!!! Jack and Duke are getting married!!!!!!!!!!!! 🥹😭❤️💕

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Ahhhhaha! Chpt 79:

I am sobbing. This was so perfect and lovely. I needed this. We all needed this. Darke, you needed this. I feel like I fell in love with these characters all over again. What Ghost said during the ceremony had me weeping. And when Danny is brought up, I’m also crying very sad tears lol. 🥹���

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*side note: the way you write peter and sam are exceptional! I can really hear their voices come alive <3

** side note 2: just a general declaration that Sam Wilson needs a love interest moving forward in the MCU... like they’re missing out on this man and I’ll fight Marvel haha 😂😂

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Yikes! It seems my BA in Communications is not paying off 😂 what a messy reaction post lmao. I cannot communicate to save my lifeeeeee

@darke15​, I can’t properly explain how much this whole series has me in a chokehold. You are a phenomenal writer and storyteller!! Seriously I’m always in awe what that brain creates 🖤 thank you for all that you do, lovely!! 

~gigi💕