#i can feel so many emotions when they look at me

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Actually, I think this does link in with a wider conversation that I have been thinking for a while Tumblr maybe needs to hear.

There's a common meme on this site now that no one here has any reading comprehension skills. The best one is, of course, the original "No offense but reading comprehension on this site is piss poor/How dare you say we piss on the poor" post, which gave rise to the nickname "pissing-on-the-poor website". There's also the "I like pancakes/How dare you say waffles are terrible" one. Both of these are great, because they're silly jokey ways to show two closely related phenomena that are probably the commonest ways to fail a reading comprehension check.

The first is someone reading certain catchphrases or buzzwords in the post, and based on their own biases or prior experiences or whatever else, their brain simply fills in what it reckons the poster is saying on the topic. Instead of reading the rest of the sentence and digesting it, the reader then just uses their assumption as the interpretation, and reacts to that.

The second is closely related, because it also uses biases and prior experiences to to interpret the post, but rather than ignoring what the OP is actually saying, it instead performs a series of gymnastic leaps to construct a whole new assertion on the OP's behalf that simply isn't there.

There's also a third, of course; that one is people being so eager to feel smug and superior over someone they perceive as Bad that they wilfully assume the OP is stupid or being serious when they're actually joking. And if the reader hadn't been so blinded by their desire to get to look down on someone, they'd have seen the very obvious tells, sometimes even including sentences like "Obviously this is a joke." (I think we have all seen examples of these. Also, in a bid to avoid as many reading comprehension fails here as possible, this does not include misunderstandings borne entirely of neurodiverse struggles to parse intentions; but, neurodiverse people are just as likely as neurotypicals to have ego play a part in their misinterpretation of others, and that is what this point is about.)

And the thing is... actually, we are all capable of any of these. I imagine a sizable chunk of people reading until this point were probably thinking "Lol, yeah, people are so stupid," but na, nage, I'm not having that. Literally everyone does these sometimes. And it becomes a particular risk when the topic under discussion is something that might brush against an issue that is a pressure point for you, like a social justice talking point that you are forever having to argue with internet strangers about, for example. Your brain holds schemas! And sometimes it likes to pattern match things before it deigns to tell you about its findings! And that can hit you right in the emotions, which if they are strong enough, really can shut down all rational thought.

But. This brings me to the real point of the post.

Because the thing is, we have all saddled up and gone to war under these conditions, or at the very least been strongly tempted to. And a vital skill that literally everyone has to learn, sooner or later, is:

Before you hit 'reply', double check the post to make sure you fucking understood it.

And that does not mean "simply re-read, confirm your bias, carry on." It means, "Is it possible to read this post from the point of view of someone who doesn't intend it the way I've taken it? If I put myself in the shoes of an innocent, could they still have written these words? Is there another interpretation for these phrases?"

And you do have to do this step. You simply do have to. Because if your desire is to 'clap back' and call someone a gargling knobskin made of garbage, fuck me sideways but you must see that it is imperative that you check if they actually deserve that kind of treatment first. You cannot spend your time claiming that we must all choose to be kind and then not bother doing your due diligence before screaming a person's various and assorted bigotries at them. If you misread it, and they were innocent - you are the raging aggressive cunt in this situation.

It does not matter that you reacted from an emotional place of normally having to defend yourself either, by the way. Sure, that makes the quality of your human soul better than that of the average Redditor who just enjoys anonymously hurting people, I guess? But it's also irrelevant. If you messaged someone and called them a misogynist because you performed several mental somersaults and landed on your own sore spot when they meant no such thing, you are the attacker. You owe them an apology. And yeah, sure, you can explain your over-reaction as the product of your normal experiences if you like, but that is only an explanation, not an excuse. You are still the asshole here. You still need to apologise and mean it.

And you could have avoided it if you'd done that due diligence, as you should have. If you're going to take a swing, make sure it's the right target. This was once described to me as donkey people - they don't think, they just kick. This is admittedly a little unkind to donkeys, who always do their due diligence, but I feel it's an apt metaphor.

TL;DR: If you feel moved to angrily reply to something, first make sure you've interpreted it right. Don't be a donkey person. And if you ask for clarification, people are innocent until proven guilty. Ask nicely. If they are a bigot, you can then smelt them for parts.

[poespetraven]

Hiiiiiii hellooooooooo hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii so uh funny story I haven’t watched the new episode yet…

LET ME EXPLAIN

(!!!spoilers for both the X-tale comic and series below!!! (I’ve never tried using the “keep reading” line thingy ooh this is exciting! Heehee look at me being all tumblr proficient! (I still have no idea as to what I’m doing (shoot sorry I got distracted.))))

I DID REREAD THE X-TALE COMIC AND REWATCH THE X-TALE SERIES THO AND OH MY GOSH I FORGOT HOW MUCH I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT THE X-TALE COMIC, ESPECIALLY THE 2ND HALF OF IT LIKE OH MY GOSH I FORGOT SO MANY LITTLE DETAILS THAT MAKE IT SO MUCH MORE DEVASTATING BRO WHY DO I NEED REREAD THIS MORE OFTEN WHAT AM I DOING?!?!

Anyways, that was fun! I guess in a way it was kinda fun having not read it in a while cause like I got to be surprised by some things I forgot. Like Cross almost killing Frisk in the very beginning and then panicking about it and feeling awful. The slow build up of his suspicion of Frisk. And the whole deal with Papyrus secretly protecting Cross from his blasters to make Undyne and Frisk think he killed Cross. I had been thinking that Cross saved himself for a while now. And you know what? You know what that does? YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MAKES EXTRA DEVASTATING?! YOU KNOW WHAT OTHER KNIFE TWISTING DETAIL I FORGOT?! CROSS INITIALLY SPARED PAPYRUS! DO YOU REMEMBER THAT?! DO YOU?!?!?!? CAUSE I DIDN’T! I FORGOT! BUT AFTER CROSS KILLED EVERYBODY HE LEFT PAPYRUS TOTALLY UNHARMED AND WAS LIKE “Papyrus wants me happy 🥰” AND PAPYRUS IS JUST LIKE STANDING THERE AND THEN HE’S LIKE HES LIKE “yeah but like maybe you went like a little too far-“ THEN BOOM HES FUCKING DEAD. CROSS KILLS HIM! LIKE URGHHHHHH IT HURTS IT PHYSICALLY HURTS ME! AND THEN LIKE WHAT HAPPENS DIRECTLY AFTER? LIKE I FORGOT ABOUT FRISK TRYING TO GIVE CROSS THE HEART LOCKET AND THEN CHARA ACCIDENTALLY KILLING FRISK!!! LIKE I HAVE I ROBBED MYSELF BY NOT REMEMBERING THIS ANGST! IT MAKES CROSS’ REALIZATION THAT HE CAN’T ACTUALLY BRING EVERYBODY BACK EVEN MORE DEVASTATING!

So uh yeah I had a very fun time rereading the comic. And then I rewatched the X-Take series like the next day and OH MY GOSH IT WAS EVEN BETTER HAVING JUST READ THE COMIC LIKE IT JUST HITS SO MUCH HARDER AND I should probably stop there before I jump into another rant. This post was not supposed to be this long oops. I’ll just summarize what I was going to say by saying that this series gives me Feelings and Emotions.

BUT I STILL HAVENT WATCHED THE NEW UNDERVERSE EPISODE! I’ve being holding off for a day when my family is out of the house for long enough for me to rewatch all of Underverse Season 2 plus the new episode cause I want to try and see if I can put it on our television. BUT GUYS I DONT KNOW IF I CAN WAIT ANY LONGER! I THINK IM GONNA CAVE! LIKE I DON’T NEED TO WATCH IT LIKE THAT! LIKE ITS A NICE IDEA SURE BUT LIKE WOULD I REALLY ENJOY THE EPISODE LESS IF I DIDN’T WATCH IT LIKE THAT? NO! WHY AM I DOING THIS! I DONT KNOW! WHY AM POSTING THIS ON TUMBLR? WHY AM I STILL TYPING? WHO IS EVEN GOING TO READ THIS? HEY YOU THERE! YEAH YOU! WHY ARE YOU READING THIS? WHATS GOING ON?

…well I think I have officially decided that I am not going to wait until the house is empty to watch the new episode cause that’s stupid. I’m going watch it on my laptop with my headphones and a cozy blanket on my bed the way it was intended and it is going to be fucking fantastic.

UNDERVERSE 0.8 PART 1 Premiere

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Character Development: 70 Questions

Self-Reflective Questions. To help jumpstart self-reflection (Woronko, n.d.):

Am I using my time wisely?

Am I taking anything for granted?

Am I employing a healthy perspective?

Am I living true to myself?

Am I waking up in the morning ready to take on the day?

Am I thinking negative thoughts before I fall asleep?

Am I putting enough effort into my relationships?

Am I taking care of myself physically?

Am I letting matters that are out of my control stress me out?

Am I achieving the goals that I’ve set for myself?

The following are questions you can ask yourself every day to get to know yourself better (William, n.d.):

Who am I, really?

What worries me most about the future?

If this were the last day of my life, would I have the same plans for today?

What am I really scared of?

Am I holding on to something I need to let go of?

If not now, then when?

What matters most in my life?

What am I doing about the things that matter most in my life?

Why do I matter?

Have I done anything lately that’s worth remembering?

Have I made someone smile today?

What have I given up on?

When did I last push the boundaries of my comfort zone?

If I had to instill one piece of advice in a newborn baby, what advice would I give?

What small act of kindness was I once shown that I will never forget?

How will I live, knowing I will die?

What do I need to change about myself?

Is it more important to love or be loved?

How many of my friends would I trust with my life?

Who has had the greatest impact on my life?

Would I break the law to save a loved one?

Would I steal to feed a starving child?

What do I want most in life?

What is life asking of me?

Which is worse: failing or never trying?

If I try to fail and succeed, what have I done?

What’s the one thing I’d like others to remember about me at the end of my life?

Does it really matter what others think about me?

To what degree have I actually controlled the course of my life?

When all is said and done, what will I have said more than I’ve done?

These prompts and questions are great ways to put your journal to use (Tartakovsky, 2014):

My favorite way to spend the day is . . .

If I could talk to my teenage self, the one thing I would say is . . .

The two moments I’ll never forget in my life are . . . (Describe them in great detail, and what makes them so unforgettable.)

Make a list of 30 things that make you smile.

“Write about a moment experienced through your body. Making love, making breakfast, going to a party, having a fight, an experience you’ve had or you imagine for your character. Leave out thought and emotion, and let all information be conveyed through the body and senses.”

The words I’d like to live by are . . .

I couldn’t imagine living without . . .

When I’m in pain—physical or emotional—the kindest thing I can do for myself is . . .

Make a list of the people in your life who genuinely support you, and whom you can genuinely trust. Then, make time to hang out with them.

What does unconditional love look like for you?

What things would you do if you loved yourself unconditionally? How can you act on these things, even if you’re not yet able to love yourself unconditionally?

I really wish others knew this about me . . .

Name what is enough for you.

If my body could talk, it would say . . .

Name a compassionate way you’ve supported a friend recently. Then, write down how you can do the same for yourself.

What do you love about life?

What always brings tears to your eyes? (As Paulo Coelho has said, “Tears are words that need to be written.”)

Write about a time when your work felt real, necessary and satisfying to you, whether the work was paid or unpaid, professional or domestic, physical or mental.

Write about your first love—whether it’s a person, place or thing.

Using 10 words, describe yourself.

What’s surprised you the most about your life or life in general?

What can you learn from your biggest mistakes?

I feel most energized when . . .

“Write a list of questions to which you urgently need answers.”

Make a list of everything that inspires you—whether books, websites, quotes, people, paintings, stores, or stars in the sky.

What’s one topic you need to learn more about to help you live a more fulfilling life? (Then, follow through and learn more about that topic.)

I feel happiest in my skin when . . .

Make a list of everything you’d like to say no to.

Make a list of everything you’d like to say yes to.

Write the words you need to hear.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[theartofwoompwoomp]

I never knew we could coexist together 

Shadow x reader

Summary : shadow is surprised to learns that humans understand grief. And he learns it from the human that’s the most tolerable and happiest in his life. 

———————————————————————

“Do you really think you could ever understand.” 

His voice ragged and tight from the anger. There’s no way anyone could understand what he lost. Especially not you…

You have everything. A happy family, friends, a place in this world. 

 he had nothing…

Sure others may have accepted him, yet it has never been the same and it hasn’t ever taken the pain.

Someone as happy as you wouldn’t and shouldn’t ever understand his pain. 

His grip getting tighter in his hand, he can feel himself shaking a bit as he lowers his eyes to the ground.

He feels bad for snapping at you. He wasn’t expecting to have all his pent up anger explode on you. Finally the shame starts crawling it’s way and he was getting ready to leave. He didn’t want to see your face.

Not right now, when he feels so angry with you even though you’re the only one thats stuck around. 

All his emotions are spinning all over his head just waiting for another opportunity to explode, and he does not want you to be at the end of it.

Without saying anything else, he keeps his head down as he turns to leave. 

But just as he’s a few steps away his are is pulled back quite forcefully towards you again.

“What do you think you’re doing—“

You hugged him.

Holding tight making sure you won’t let go of him. He tenses a bit not fully processing what you’re doing. 

Why are still trying? Why do you still care even if he hurt you? He doesn’t deserve you.

Before he realizes it, he’s holding you close as well. 

Nothing is said between either of you, he’s simply shaking a bit in your arms as you rub his back a bit.

Memories come back to him. Those of maria, his actions, and of you.

Small tears roll down his cheeks but he could care less at the moment. “It hurts.” His voice broken and tired from all the pain that never goes away.

You hugged him a bit tighter as you whisper a bit into his ears, “I know shads, i know.” Not daring to let go or abandon him in this moment, you wait it out. Feeling your own tears slowly dropping as well as his cries intensify.

He feels like he just got ran over, but at least you’re still there, holding him. Both of you more calmed down from the whole ordeal. 

He finally decides to let go from your embrace and you let him. 

He sits on the ground and you follow along and sit next to him. Just waiting to see who’ll be the first to speak.

Surprisingly after a few minutes shadow softly starts speaking, “i don’t want to talk about it.” His brows furrow a bit, “i appreciate your kindness, but I don’t like speaking about my pain.” 

He feels you caress his hand. “That’s okay,” holding it firmly when turns it offering you to continue your action of affection, “i understand that pain can be hard to share.”

He turns to see you, eyes glazing over you face wondering what ever could have caused you pain to make that expression.

“You might be surprised but humans suffer from many things. Some of us are just a little better at pretending nothing’s wrong.” 

“Doesn’t it hurt to do that?”

You look over, seeing his worry through his eyes. “Of course it does. Suffering is always painful.” Your eyes and hands never leaving one another. Sharing more emotions this way than any words could describe.

You lean a bit onto him, “but you know,” he reciprocates as you continue, “i think that’s a reason why there’s so many of us in the first place. Maybe so we could  help each other through the pain… it’s too bad many seem forget the value of this”

He shifts a bit as he feels you move again. This time you’re kneeling a bit in front of him. 

“That’s why I’m so glad that I at least have you in my life.”

His heart twinges a bit, feeling guilty for trying to ever push you away. And you notice it before he even says anything.

“Please don’t shut me out,” you’re hugging him again.

And he hugs you back, holding you softly as he feels your breath on his shoulder. Your actions and words melting all the doubt and numbing the pain. He’s comforted knowing that you’re not going nowhere, staying right there with him.

“Im glad that it’s you, and not anyone else at my side.” 

———————————————————————

masterlist

[arabella0001]

i feel so anxious about posting this, but these are my guilty pleasure thoughts 😫

yours to break (choso kamo x reader)

synopsis: choso needs a reminder of his place—and you make sure he feels it

warnings: insecurity, bad self-esteem, uexperienced, sub/dom play( sub choso!!), blowjob, oral (female receiving), teasing, praise, overstimulation, rough fuck, light degrading

choso has always been quiet, but you get it. you actually like this about him. you know he’s struggling with words and trying to fit in, but you always admire this about him—about your pretty boy—how he’s trying, how he wants to understand humans, how he cares for his brothers, and how he’s more aware of his surroundings than most people are.

you’ve started learning his subtle changes in behavior, when he’s struggling with words, emotions, and all of that. and today was one of those days.

you can’t put a finger on it, but oh, choso has his mind wrapped around it.

he wasn’t used to being around so many people, let alone watching you around them—how you laughed with his brother yuji or playfully nudged megumi’s shoulder, joking about his stoic behavior. of course, you never let him out of an interaction; you were so good to him. but he feels like he’s wasting your time, like he’s not good enough for you. his dark eyes tracked every small interaction, feeling complicated emotions that he usually shared with you.

of course, he didn’t need to tell you he was upset—you already knew. but you wouldn’t speak to him about it in public. you waited until both of you were back at your apartment. you tried to talk to him, and he tried—he really tried—but he couldn’t help drowning in his insecurities.

you shut the door and crossed the room, looking at him gently. after he undressed from his jacket, he felt your gaze on him, and when he looked at you, he panicked internally.

“choso?” you asked him in a soft voice.

“y-yes?” he slapped himself mentally for stuttering; he didn’t want to be a bother to you again.

“what’s wrong, my pretty boy?” you murmured, tilting your head to catch his gaze. his eyes flicked to yours, full of love and adoration, but fear too.

"i’m sorry," he said, voice low and rough. "it’s nothing, let’s—" his voice cracked slightly, and he exhaled sharply, like he was scolding himself.

“cho, please tell me. i know you don’t feel well. remember, we navigate your feelings together so you can understand them better?”

“yes, but—” he stopped himself, but unconsciously, he trusted you too much to hide this from you. “i know i shouldn’t feel like this…” his fingers dug into his thighs, frustration clear. "i’m just—" he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "i feel like i’m not… enough for you."

your eyes widened a little at his answer.

“choso, that’s not true," you said firmly, taking his hand in yours. "what makes you say that, baby?"

he stilled immediately when you hold his hands firmly. there it was—that quiet surrender you knew so well, the way his defenses crumbled when you took contro

“you’re… different with them," he said quietly, voice tight. "you’re so comfortable, so... happy." doubt swam in his eyes. "but i’m not like them," he muttered. "i don’t know how to be that for you. i don’t even know if i can."

the vulnerability in his tone hit you like a punch to the gut.

you walked over, gently prying his hands open and threading your fingers through his. he finally looked up, and you saw it in his face—his insecurity, his self-doubt.

his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his lips parting as he leaned into your touch like he couldn’t help himself—he wanted to let go, to let you guide him. he needed you to take control, to remind him of his place with you, to quiet the doubts swirling in his mind.

“cho, look at me,” you said, grabbing his chin gently so you could lock eyes with him. “they’re my friends, but you? you’re… you’re everything."

his breath hitched, his eyes flicking down as heat crept up his cheeks. you noticed the way his body relaxed slightly under your touch.

you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. "you don’t have to be like them. i like you exactly how you are. i don’t want them. i want you."

he shook his head, his lips parting to protest, but you silenced him with a kiss. his breath hitched, his hands hovering over your hips as though he wasn’t sure if he had the right to touch you.

"let me prove it to you," you murmured, your lips brushing his.

his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his lips parting as he leaned into your touch like he couldn’t help himself. the way his body softened beneath your hands, the slight tremble in his shoulders, told you everything—he wanted to let go, to let you guide him. he needed you to take control, to remind him of his place with you, to quiet the doubts swirling in his mind.

“should i show you, cho?”you take his hand and turning to your room, he bites his lower lip, uncertainty flickering across his features before he nods eagerly.

"y-yes, Y/N” choso’s breath hitches as you lead him into the bedroom, his pulse quickening at your sultry voice, his other hand shaking slightly anxiously.

he swallows hard, his mouth going dry as you close the door behind them, the sound echoing through the quiet room. choso’s gaze return to you, his pupils dilating with a mix of nervous excitement and longing, his mind quickly adapt to the new atmosphere, an atmosphere he knows it very much.

"you will be a good boy and you will listen?" you tease him, whispering in his ear, putting him on the bed with his feet hanging off and you between his legs.

your fingertips flicker gently over his face and collarbone, each touch deliberate and teasing.

a shiver runs down choso's spine as your warm breath tickles his ear, sending waves of tingling heat across his sensitive skin. his eyelids flutter shut at the teasing motion of your fingertips, making him squirm slightly beneath your touch, his breath catching in his throat.

"yes, y/n, i'll be a good boy," choso promises breathlessly, his voice thick with anticipation.

his gaze, dark and heavy with need, locks on you, drinking in every detail—the playful curve of your lips, the way your eyes glint with mischief, the soft fall of your hair framing your face.

as you settle firmly between his spread thighs, choso’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his heart pounding so hard it feels like it might break free. vulnerability flashes across his expression for a moment before it melts into sheer desire, completely overwhelmed by your dominant affection.

"p-please, y/n…" he stammers, voice barely above a whisper, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him as he surrenders completely.

"mmm aleeady begging” you chuckle softly, letting your fingers trail over his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake “you’re so beautiful, choso…did you know that?” you murmur appreciatively, your hand coming closer to his aching dick, you want to worship every inch of him until his begging for more.

choso’s back arches off slighty the bed, he whimpers softly, his hips twitching involuntarily

"you are beautiful too..." his voice strained with need, he wanna reaches out, desperate to touch you, but he know better you don’t wanna do it like that.

he bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as he fights the urge to thrust into your touch

"please..." choso pleads, his submissive eyes glazed with lust and surrender.

“you are so sweet, baby.i love how you try ro behave. i really do “you kneel between his legss, looking at him teasingly and undress his pants slowly.

choso’s breath hitches as you unfasten his pants, the zipper sliding down with agonizing slowness.his heart pounds in his chest, adrenaline surging through his veins.

he watches a intently, drinking in the sight of your mesmerizing eyes, choso’s cock twitches in its confines, straining against the fabric as his body responds to the building tension

"c-can you touch me…more? " his voice ragged with desire as he almost tries to lift his hips

you give a wicked smile, removing his pants and underwear, exposing his dick and you start stroking it slowly, from base to tip, watching his reactions closely

“more? but you are so cute when you are completly at my mercy”

choso’s head falls back against the mattress as you wrapp your small hands around his throbbing cock, the first stroke sending a jolt of pure ecstasy through his body

“ahhhh” he cries out, his voice cracking with pleasure, lids fluttering closed as he surrenders himself fully to your touches. “don’t stop, please...“ his voice hoarse with desire.

“shh. don’t command me baby or i might stop” you continue your ministration, teasing the head of his cock “and you don’t want that, do you?”

his hips buck instinctively, seeking more of that maddening touch and your threatening voice.

"no, no, i’m sorry…please... “he whimpers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. his eyes snap open, locking onto yours with an intense, pleading gaze

his hands clench into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms as he struggles to maintain control, but the ache in his cock threatens to consume him wholly.

you smirk at him, your pussy dripping already just by his pleading eyes, continuing to stroke his cock slowly, occasionally giving it a gentle squeeze, your other hand moves to fondle his balls, rolling them in you palm.

“mmmm, you're so responsive, cho. such a perfect little boy, you’re making me so wet already

you lean and start lickiny his dick slowly up and down, preparing him for what has to come.

his entire body quakes as your tongue makes contact with his sensitive flesh, he throws his head back, a hoarse cry tearing from his throat as pleasure crashes over him

"Y/N!”, his hips throbbing erratically as you lavishe attention on his aching cock, his vision already blur at the edges as he teeters on the brink of climax but he know he needs ro resist the urge. you retreat for a second, gasping for air.

“remember cho, you don’t get to cum untill i say so, yeah?” he moan so hard when your lips envelop his cock once more, the suction drawing him deeper into the wet heat of her throat.*

“yes yes Y/N, i remember! please don’t stop!" his voice raw and desperatec his body trembles uncontrollably, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as he fights the impending orgasm, his fingers dig into the sheets, the only thing keeping him grounded.

his vision goes white as you take him deeper, your throat constricting around his throbbing cock, gagging and slurping. tears stream down his cheeks, mingling with the sweat dripping from his brow as he's pushed to his limit.

"please, baby... i can’t... is too much!" he sobs, his voice breaking on a ragged whimper. his muscles spasm, his toes curling as he strains against the iron grip of his climax.

at that, you let him go with a pop, returning to stroke him slowly “oh baby but i think you can a little more, right?”

“but I admit, you were such a good boy, cho” you tease the head of his cock again and he twich instantly“should i reward you? should i let you fuck my throat, baby? to cum in my mouth? or maybe on my tits?”

choso’ s resolve crumbles, his willpower shattered, his eyes widen, pupils dilated with lust

“yes!!! please Y/N, let me… i need so badly i can’t —“he begs, his voice thick with desperation. choso’s hips surge forward, closer to your beautiful lips, his imagination running wild with the depraved scenarios playing out in his mind, about your warm mouth, about your perfect tits

"cum in my mouth, cho” you take him again in your mouth and start deepthroat him, looking up at him with determination in your eyes.

he don’t need much longer, as your throat constricts around him once more, choso loses all sense of control, his climax erupting in a violent rush of hot, sticky fluid. he bucks and thrashes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his release as he empties himself into your waiting mouth.

choso’s hands find your hair, tangling as he holds you in place, plugging your mouth to the limit.

after the aftershocks pass, choso slowly takes his cock out of your mouth, his body limp, spent and panting. a dazed expression on his face, still reeling from the force of his climax.

you swallow everything he give you and pull off his softening cock, licking you lips clean “mmm so delicious” choso watches you gulp his load and he cups your check with trembeling hand, his expression full of adoration while he watch every part of your face.

"that was….incredibile..Y/N….thank you.”

“you deserve it, baby” you stand up and climb on him, his legs still shaking slightly, you take his earlobe in your mouth “now, how about you take care of me, hmm?”

a shiver runs down Choso's spine as warm breath caresses his ear, he groans softly.

"...anything for you," he moans feeling your hot breath and lips on his earlobe, he push your back closer and start worshiping your body.

he licks and nips at you skin, trailing kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. choso’s hands roam your body, mapping every curve and contour as you gasp and grinds unconsciously on him. you lick his neck and pinch his pecks slightly which made him moan.

“yeah? should i muffle you with my pussy? grind on your pretty face?”

a gasp escapes choso’s lips as the brief sting of pain quickly giving way to pleasure. He arches into your touch, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he pants.

“mmm yes... please, i want to make you feel good" he whispers, his voice husky with desire. “i-i want to taste you, feel you grinding against my face..”he pleads, his words dripping with submission and longing

you push him by his chest and climb on him fast, your soaked pussy closer to his face, smearing your juices all over his cheeks and chin as his eyes widen, hungry with desire while he put both hands on your ass and push it closer to his mouth, without hesitation, he parts his lips and extend his tongue and you start grinding on his face.

“f-fuck, cho! you are so obedient…..” you lift one leg over his shoulder, opening you further to him “now, open wide and show me how much you adore me, cho.”

"mmmhm…," he moans around your pussy, the flavor of your arousal coating his tongue. choso’s nose burrows into your slick folds, inhaling deeply as he laps at your clit and inner walls with reckless abandon.

choso’s cock already throbs painfully against his belly, straining for release even as he focuses solely on you

“ahhhh, yes, cho! just like that, eat my pussy! you starts grinding harder on his face, her fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him where you wants him most “you’re such a slut for my pussy, aren't you? fuck you feel so good” you moan harder, your legs trembeling

choso’s response is a muffled, guttural moan, his voice distorted by the plushness of your pussy filling his mouth. your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him deeper and he welcomes the slight discomfort, craving more of your dominance, using his mouth like that.

"mmph, mmhmm...yes” he manages to convey between licks and sucks, his words slurred and breathy.

“oh, cho! right there, don't stop!” your breathing gets heavier, your moans louder as you ride his face “i’m gonna cum, cho!” you warn him before your whole body tenses up and she screams in pleasure, your pussy clenching hard around his tongue as he devours you and licking all your cum.

choso’s low moans vibrate against you, a symphony of pleasure and devotion. he continues to tongue-fuck you through the aftershocks, only when your tremors subside does chlso slowly pull back, his face glistening with your arousal and tears of pleasure

as he gazes up at you with adoring eyes, his chest heaving with emotion

“you taste so good, Y/n”

you look down at him, your eyes filled with love and lust “you were such a pretty good boy, cho” your voice hoarse from the screaming, still catching your breath

you undress from your shirt, revealing your tits to him, and start moving slowly on his abs, your pussy closer to his throbbing cock.

“such a good boy like maybe you deserve to fuck me, what do you think?”

choso’s heart races as you teases his straining erection with your slick folds, hos gaze is transfixed on your perfect breasts, his hand instantly cupping both of them, teasing them and pinching them slowly.

he groans, he pleades, his voice raw with longing “please…need to be inside you... “i’ll make you feel so good, Y/N, I promise," his eyes locked onto hers, brimming with love and lust.

you chuckle gently “i love how desperate you are for me” you take his dick and slowly you let him feel your walls

“f-fuck’” a low, guttural groan rumbles from his chest as he feels you, he gasps as you start moving, his fingers digging into your hips as he tries to anchor himself.

"do you see it now?" you whispered, leaning down so your lips brushed his ear. "do you feel how much you mean to me?"

his grip on your waist tightened, and his voice broke as he stammered, "y-yes… i—ah—" he couldn’t finish, his thoughts too jumbled, his body trembling beneath you.

"you’re the only one," you murmured, your tone soft but commanding. "the only one who gets to have me like this."

his eyes squeezed shut as a desperate, shaky moan escaped his lips, your name spilling from him like a prayer. the way his body reacted to every touch, every word, almost overwhelmed you—soft whimpers, broken gasps, his lips parting as he tried and failed to keep up with the sensations. he was so vulnerable, so open, it made your chest ache.

you steady yourself, wrapping your hand on his throat, bringing him back to the present “you like that, cho?” you smirk and start moving faster, slamming your hips down his cock “being my only one submissive boy?”

you lean forward, your breast pressing against his chest as you whisper in his ear

“i bet you want to take me and fuck me however you want, huh?” your hand tighten around his throat, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp and choso’s eyes roll back in ecstasy, a primal part of him almost taking over.

“no, no, Y/N….ah..i love it when you take control” he pants, his voice ragged with desperation. his hips buck up to meet your thrusts deeper

you grins wickedly and keep going, your movements become erratic “look at you. so desperate for me” you slap his cheek playfully, your pussy clenched harder on him.

“think you've earned a reward, do you know what is it?” choso’s vision blurs at the edges, your grip on his throat remains unyielding, he feels an intoxicating sense of euphoria. he gasp when your slap touched his cheek, his body tenses, coiled springs ready to snap, desperatly.

"p-please,... tell me... I'll do anything..."

“you can fuck me how you want, choso” you whisper, your voice cracking from the pleasure

at this, choso’s control stop immediately, he loses all semblance of restraint, flipping you onto your back and start thrusting with bruising force.

his hands grab your wrists, pinning them above your head as he begins to pound into you violently, each savage thrust driving him closer to the edge. one of hand goes to your clit, start moving faster and faster, wanting for you to cum either him

“mine! you’re only mine!” he snarls, his voice a feral growl as he claims glur body with ruthless intensity. choso’s hips slam against you, the lewd sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the room.

“oh my god, cho!!! make me cum!!!” your head rolls on the bed as you scream, when you lock your eyes with him, his eyes, wild and unhinged, bore into you as he ravages your cunt, his cock throbs inside you, driving closer and closer to the edge.

feeling your body tense, sensing your impeding orgasm, choso’s hip start slamming with bruising force, he rolls your clit between his finger, your legs shake badly as you feel your own climax taking ove. you start screaming into his neck. choso groaned deeply, his cock grinding harder around cervix, feeling your spasmming walls and orgasm,

““Y/N!!!”” choso cant hold any longer as his hips start jerk erratically, with a a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his cock throbbing as he unleashes a torrent of hot seed deep inside you and you whimper, feeling so full from both of your climaxes.

💞💕afterward, he collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. you turned to him, brushing his damp hair out of his face, and his dark eyes met yours, still clouded but filled with so much love it made your heart ache.

"you’re incredible," you murmured, your voice soft but full of conviction.

he blinked at you, his lips parting slightly, and after a moment, he whispered, "thank you… for letting me."

you smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. "you don’t have to thank me, choso. i wanted this just as much"

his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you like you might disappear.

"do you believe me now?" you murmured against his skin, your voice soft and steady.

choso pressed a kiss to your hair, his voice low and hoarse.

"yeah," he whispered, the smallest hint of a smile in his voice. "i do." You smiled against his chest, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his skin

“good," you whispered. "because you’re stuck with me."

"wouldn’t have it any other way," he replied, pulling you even closer.

"thank you, y/n," he murmured after a moment, his voice still shaky.

"for what, my pretty boy?" you asked, your fingers never stopping their soft patterns on his chest.

"for reminding me i’m enough," he said quietly, his arms tightening around you.

you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his skin

“you don’t need reminding, choso. you always have been."

"i’m sorry," he murmured after a pause. "for doubting you."

you shook your head slightly, your voice tender but firm. "you don’t need to apologize either.. just remember next time—there’s no one else i’d rather be with than you."

he buried his face in your hair, his voice barely above a whisper as he promise

“i’ll remember." and for the first time all night, he let out a quiet, contented sigh, his insecurities finally silenced.

[ilyrafe]

𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: none :)

word count: 0.5k

tagging some friends: @starkeyvhs @zyafics @aliyahwritings

it’s not what he wanted, it’s not what you wanted nor what you deserved and he knows it. the fact that you kept telling him that nothing matters more than saying “i do” makes him love you even more.

not even in his wildest dreams did he think he would find someone that loved him for who he is, despite what he did.

he’s the luckiest man in the world.

he would walk through fire for you if he had to.

loving you is the easiest thing he’s ever done, and the most intense feeling he’s ever felt. it’s overwhelming at times, though. his mind, being his biggest enemy, keeps telling him you will leave at some point because no one can tolerate someone like him for long enough, and maybe that’s what really made him propose so soon.

barely a year into the relationship, rafe got down on one knee and popped the question. he has never been so scared of an answer before. when he heard the emotional yes come out of your mouth, for a very short moment, it felt like everything made sense. all the puzzle pieces were finally into place. whatever was missing, he found it, or rather, it found him.

and rafe didn’t want to wait. he wanted to make you his wife as soon as possible, and now, here you are, at the courthouse, before a court clerk, about to become husband and wife.

you look ethereal. the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen and he gets to call her his. the white dress you chose is simple, but so elegant. it fits you like a glove. it makes you look even more beautiful, and he thought that wasn’t possible.

rafe can’t wait to start this new life with you.

he knows you deserve more than this, more than a courthouse ceremony. this feels so cold, you deserve the wedding of your dreams, with your family present, but they’re categorically against your relationship, and deep down, he understands. no one knows you’re getting married, which makes everything more inadequate.

rafe can’t help himself, though. he just feels so lucky that he found someone that would put him before their own family. he feels so loved. to be the first in someone’s priority list, to be someone’s first. he always wondered what that would feel like and now he knows, and it feels amazing.

when the papers are properly signed and the rings and properly exchanged, he kisses you sweetly, and then he hugs you so tight. he almost melts in your arms because rafe never thought he would experience this in his lifetime.

love. true love.

“i love you so much,” he whispers in your ear.

“i love you more,” you respond.

rafe untightens his arms and looks at your beautiful face. his wife. you’re his wife.

he can’t even believe it.

a single tear rolls down his face. there are so many thoughts running through his mind right now. so many emotions being felt.

“i’ll make you the happiest. i promise.”

one thing about rafe cameron is that he’d rather die than break a promise.

to be continued…

i love feedback! let me know what you think!

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Hi, just curious. What's your 10 or 20 fave BL kisses from bl series/dramas/web series you've watched or are watching, if you have any?

Hey Anon,

I don't know if you remember this ask, it has been sitting in my inbox for a while now. Sorry for the late reply!

And of course I have favorite kisses. I love a good kiss. In my definition of a good kiss, it doesn't need to be the perfect angle or the perfect "lip-touching", I don't know, people rate such scenes differently. For me it is more about the emotions I could feel during that kiss, the build-up or if there is a special detail that really catches my breath. I guess you'll understand, what I mean when you see my choices.

This is not a ranking! It is in alphabetical order, not just because I don't want to rank them, but because I am lazy.

Bad Buddy

The iconic rooftop kiss. The whole build-up was perfect. The tears? The first short kiss followed by this gorgeous kiss filled with all the emotions one person can feel? What is not to like about this kiss!?

Be My Favorite

I was very protective of these two and especially Krist. People were saying, he can't kiss other man because he is homophobic and what is this then? Yes, I remember Sotus. The kisses were.. not good, but I gave Be My Favorite a chance and this kiss was so soft and so full of love and tenderness. I really enjoyed this whole scene a lot! And Kris can kiss.

Boys Be Brave!

This kiss came as a big surprise for me. It is Jinwoo trying to hide from Kisub and the letter finding him what leads to this quiet and beautiful first kiss. I loved everything about it!

Ghost Host, Ghost House

All of there kisses were so good! But I loved the teasing and the chasing in this scene especially. Those two have incredible good chemistry and I wish we could see more of them.

History 3: Make Our Days Count

Oh the desperation for each other was so real in this one. Both wanted each other so bad! But what I loved the most about this whole scene was the way how Sun Bo Xiang reassured Lu Zhi Gang that he desired all of him. So good!

I Feel You Linger In The Air

The most painful and saddest kiss in bl-history! It is such a wonderful scene. Everything about it made me cry and smile at the same time. Gorgeous scene!

Jack and Joker

They finally confessed and kissed for the first time. And what a kiss this was! It left the most of us speechless and a little bit breathless. The way Jack stopped the kiss in the middle to calm Joke down a little bit and they started the kiss again so fucking tender and argh! I love it so much!!!

Love Class 2

Love Class 2 has some really good kisses, but this one was something else! It is one of the softest kisses ever. I don't know how many times I have rewatched this whole scene. Just look at them. You can feel the softness of this kiss! And there were sounds during that scene... they were something else.

Love For Love's Sake

I really didn't expect that kiss at the end of this series. I hoped for a tight hug, but hello? Those two and the script kept delivering until the very end. This was pure perfection.

Love Mechanics

Yeah, well... perhaps I am just a sucker for YinWar kissing... I don't know. But every time I see this kiss I want to live in this scene forever and I would be perfectly fine. I am just sitting here, wanting to write about this kiss and I stared at it for an unhealthy period of time and forgot everything else. That is really bad. I love that kiss so much!

My Stand-In

They had some good kisses. This was not one of them, but this specific moment, when Joe gave in to the kiss, I was blown away. He really didn't want to like this kiss, but his heart still wanted it. The emotions!

My Tooth Your Love

Every once in a while there are these cute and small kisses, so ordinary and overlooked. I think these are very important to portrait a good and real relationship. Because kisses don't need to be these big moments in slow-motion and with different angles. Yes, those are nice, but I really adore those "small" ones that show the love between the characters.

Perfect Propose

The reason I picked this scene is because of the build-up. Hirokuni asked Kai not to call him Hiro, but Kai just ignored him and breathed Hiro and followed with this passionate kiss and I was just in awe.

Sing My Crush

I was absolutely not expecting this kiss! I thought we got this dead-fish-kiss and that would be it. I would have love the series nevertheless, but this scene? Damn, Korea! Such a good kiss!

The Heart Killers

I don't think those two are the best kissers in the industry. I think they have some good chemistry without a doubt. But this kiss. This moment here. It was everything for me. I can feel Style's hand on Fadel's head. I can feel it. And I love it! I am not normal about this scene! Everything about these few seconds brings me so much joy. The look on Fadel's face, the hand and everything that happend before and followed afterwards.

The Day I Loved You

This is still one of my favorite rooftop-kisses. For me it is the way they grab each other to pull the other one close. The way they want to crawl into each other, to feel the other person everywhere. Such a perfect first kiss! Such a perfect scene.

To My Star 2

I love these small kisses. I name them "A thousand little kisses". Those kisses make me smile and so happy! There is nothing more to say about it. I love them. To My Star is just an example for many other shows out there with these little kisses.

Unknown

I loved this whole scene. But this segment of the kiss, this little dance of them, is so good. I can't tell you how many times I just watched this specific scene. How easy Yuan maneuvered Qian around to close the door. How they kept kissing. I... I... nope. There are no words in my head anymore.

Well, these are a few of my favorite kisses. There are more, but I guess this list is long enough. I hope you like my little selection :) I wish you a wonderful day!

[haunt3dh3art]

Born In Blood | Yandere Dexter Morgan x reader

i’ve been watching almost a season of Dexter a day now i’m on winter break!! i know you guys lurking in the Dexter community have been waiting for some more work, so this is for you <33 i'm also posting this on my ao3 page if you prefer that formatting - type in "haunt3dh3art" and you'll find me.

TW: Blood, slight gore, slight torture, mention of blades and rope, canon-typical violence, slight obsession hinting

· ˳ . ✦ . ˚ . ✦ . ˳ · ˖ ✶ ⋆ . ✧̣̇☽༺♰༻☾✧̣̇ . ⋆ ✶ ˖ · ˳ . ✦ . ˚ . ✦ . ˳ ·

Chapter 1 - Silence

Miami is full of gorgeous, witty women, and plenty of them would love a piece of Dexter.

But, none of them have ever held his attention for more than a few months. He tries not to let his lack of emotions get in the way of relationships, but its like everybody he meets eventually gets the feeling that something is very, very wrong.

A sixth sense, like when a dog growls at the darkness. You can't see what they can, but go back the way you came anyway.

So, eventually, everyone leaves, as is the next logical step for their survival.

When Dexter first sees you, whether you are an "almost victim" of the Miami Metro's latest killer or someone he sees on the street, it’s like he forgets to breathe. His eyes squint, a darkness glazing them over and something changes. His Dark Passenger appears behind him, but Dexter pays no attention to the ramblings of his damaged subconscious.

For argument's sake, here, you present to him as a victim. Or you would have been, had Dexter not figured out the location of the killer's lair in time.

He's led to a decrepit church, stone bricks falling off the walls, thick ivy covering almost every surface he can see. He makes no sound as he creeps towards the entrance. Slowly, he pushes the door open - it makes a lowly creak and Dexter slips into the darkness.

There is no light here, no ceremonious candles for the next killing, no flashy weapons to be seen on many of the stone slabs Dexter passes. Then, he sees a soft glow in the back corner of the vast church.

A cellar. The trapdoor won't quite close, and a whisper of light is allowed to seep through the thin crack against the floor. Dexter lifts it with deft fingers, careful to not make a sound. His steps make no sound as he glides down the stone stairs down, down into the basement. It's cold down here, and the air is thick with moisture. His silence, although usually an upper hand on an opponent, was not necessary here.

Your guttering screams rang out through the entire lower level; as loud as they were, Dexter was left wondering how they couldn't be heard until down here. You sounded animalistic, clearly fighting for your life and barely hanging on. As he got closer to the awful sounds of clanging metal and splitting screams, a chill rose up on Dexter's skin.

Then, he heard the killer's voice for the first time.

"How stupid can you be? You're nothing but a sacrifice to me." A low voice cut your screams into nothing but whimpers.

The slow dragging of a metal blade rang out into Dexter's ears and he was glad he came more than adequately prepared for a fight.

The killer was one Joseph Butler, serial womaniser and priest. Clearly, God had abandoned this disciple. The victims were most often strippers caught in his charming web, or occasionally single women looking for human connection. They must have thought they had struck gold.

His call card had been arranging his victims' hands into a prayer stance, nailing nails through the palms to keep the pose in place, and deftly placing a barbed wire "crown" on the person's head. They were always sat upright, bound with rope to a chair and lathered in blood.

The blade was new - Joseph was on the cusp to evolve his method, but he would never get the chance.

Candles lit the basement with a warm light, contrasting the suffocating atmosphere. Dexter suspected Butler had been torturing you with hot wax, or something similar, perhaps flames and the heated blade?

There was only a cloth curtain separating you, the killer and Dexter now.

"These are your final moments on this demented Earth. I suggest you use them to say a prayer." The killer spoke.

Dexter pulled back the curtain with one finger and saw he had his back to him.

This was the moment.

Moving as a snake slithers, Dexter stepped towards your torturer, and injected him with a tranquilizer. He instantly collapsed to the floor, making a satisfying thud.

Dexter stepped over him, and reached for his pocketknife to cut you free of your binds. You began to scream again and writhed in petrifying fear in your seat.

It was now that Dexter, crouched to your level, could finally see your face. Butler had obscured his view of you before, but with him out cold on the floor, Dexter could take the time to look.

You, caked in dirt and filth.

You, a look of horror beyond comprehension etched on to your face.

You, born in blood, just as he had been.

The moment Dexter was to undertake his duty once again as the necessary evil of Miami, he paused. Each time he had a killer strapped to a table, he paused for a moment to collect himself and appreciate the serenity of the moment. Perpetually holding the blade above his subject's heart, the point positioned perfectly, quivering in the air for a second of peace.

It was this moment, as he looked at you, that the constant roaring and wailing inside his head fell silent.

His eyes were fixed on yours, searching for an avenue of the same peace. He saw oceans reflected in your eyes, deep and dangerous.

"Shh, shh, shh. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm getting you out." He pleads, leaning forward on his knees.

He places the cool blade of his pocketknife on the rope next to your skin, making a quick, efficient cut of each loop around your wrists. It's a welcome sensation, despite the distant threat of pain.

Your screaming subsides, replaced by hyperventilating. Dexter's eyebrows pull together as he quickens his pace cutting the ropes around your feet.

Butler was only beginning his spree, killing 3 women in only 6 weeks. You would have been his fourth, had Dexter not been 10 steps ahead of his own department.

'Clearly an amateur,' Dexter thinks. The rope was too weak to hold a victim who had fight left to give, but that's easier said than done.

Finally, you were free, and instantly pushed the chair back. It crashed on the floor with a loud bang, but Dexter paid no attention to it. His eyes were stuck to you, mesmerised by you, even in your condition.

"What are you going to do to me?" You whispered, rubbing your fingers over your aching wounds.

Some of the blood on your skin was still fresh, glowing a crimson red against the candlelight. Dexter shook his head.

"Nothing," He said. "But, you need to stay with me, here. I can protect you, keep you safe, but you have to stay."

Dexter never imagined this happening to him. He knew the chances of you trusting him were beyond slim, but he hoped that by seeing your torturer on the floor, knocked out by his hand, that you wouldn't see him as a threat.

Dexter watched you with bated breath, his hands tightly clenched into fists.

You didn't move, weighing your choices. Would you really survive if you ran? How would you know there weren't more of these psychopaths waiting outside, ready to pounce the second you walked out into the night?

You shook your head, pacing around the room.

The curtain was pulled in a circle around the chair and it waved in the air as you walked past it.

"What's your name?" You asked.

"Dexter."

Saying his real name out loud felt like a violation, a curse. Only people in his life knew his name. Were you going to be a part of that now?

You nodded and stopped pacing. Pointing at the killer, you asked another question. "What are you going to do with him?"

Dexter let his gaze break from you to the man on the floor.

He would be out cold for the next 7 hours at least, unless Dexter chose to wake him up sooner. However, on this occasion, he didn't have a plan. He had all the supplies needed for a killing in the boot of his car outside, but he hadn't anticipated for you to be here tonight. The timing of the killing wasn't quite right, and a sign that Butler was becoming a bigger problem than the Miami Metro could handle. The FBI would soon step in, and Butler would be out of Dexter's grasp.

"I'm going to make it look like you were never here, which is why you have to stay with me. I have to.. dispose of him, but it won't take more than a few hours." Dexter said, choosing his words carefully to not scare you even more.

He checked his watch. 10:47pm. If he was to kill Butler and get to the marina in time, the process would have to be quick.

The sun was beginning to rise earlier in Miami.

· ˳ . ✦ . ˚ . ✦ . ˳ · ˖ ✶ ⋆ . ✧̣̇☽༺♰༻☾✧̣̇ . ⋆ ✶ ˖ · ˳ . ✦ . ˚ . ✦ . ˳ ·

[trashogram]

A Bauble

Satan/f!Reader

Summary: You become the fair judge Satan’s typist. You’ll learn what a lonely job that can be.

Warnings: Possessive Behavior, False Imprisonment, Workplace Sexual Harassment (Taken up to Eleven), Mild DubCon, Penetrative Sex, Size Difference, Temp Play (?)

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

Whoever had made the decision to forgo introducing you and Satan had made a big mistake, which was made clear by the fact that, as the official stenographer, you were the one literally typing up his uncharacteristic pauses, stutters and stumbles throughout the trial. It was uncomfortably obvious that much of his speech delays correlated with his gaze boring into you as well.

By the end of it the defendant had been quickly disposed of and you were shocked to feel yourself being picked up as you read through a long scroll of “um”, “uh” and “er”s.

“Your Honor!” You clutched the court documents to your chest as Satan held you up to his eyes. The look in those four molten orbs left you feeling flushed and overheated… or perhaps it was being so close to the dragon’s mouth.

“Would you care to join me in my office, Miss?” Satan’s drawl left you blinking rapidly. “I would be much obliged to see what you wrote of these proceedings.”

His smooth countenance defied your initial impression of the Sin, and while you were bewildered at the change, there was no real way you could decline his invitation. You adjusted your spectacles and straightened up in the palm of Satan’s hand, nodding resolutely.

“Of course, Sir.”

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

The memory of your first conversation with Satan was fuzzy. At best, you could recall how his stare continued to shift while you spoke. Those eyes continued to warm you as they softened until you felt like you’d been wrapped up in an electric blanket.

Near the end, when you had run out of things about your prior work experience to say, you felt Satan’s large finger run down your flank. The tender gesture had made you shudder, and you crossed your arms over your chest at the eerie feeling of being exposed and undone.

“My court is lucky to have you.” This coming from the very soul that had been notorious for murdering a good many of his previous court reporters (and jury men, attorneys, defense lawyers, emotional support aides) in his rage made you balk.

“You are indispensable.” Satan continued. “We’ll need to provide you with better provisions to ensure you stay satisfied with your position.”

The dragon’s claw curled around you like a serpent, bumping you forward gently yet dragging your hooves over the ground. You had no choice but to steady yourself with a hand to his muzzle, nails digging into his skin unintentionally as he grumbled.

No, not grumbled. Satan purred.

He pushed you the rest of the way with that giant digit so that your front was pressed against his face entirely. Your eyes shut as hot air from his nostrils blew back your hair, and opened in time to see Satan’s eyelids flutter.

******

Your “better provisions” consisted of a podium modified to tower above everyone else save for Satan himself. You were in his direct line of sight, and the position of the podium had changed to somewhere much closer to the center of the room. It was a confusing change, although that confusion turned into discomfort when you stepped onto the platform to see your basic desk and chair had been replaced with luxuries.

The new, plush furniture that resembled bedding more than an office space did not distract you from the spire fence that had also been installed at the border of your podium.

“The barrier is simply to keep you safe.” Satan said when you questioned it. “We can’t let our treasured reporter fall and break her pretty neck, now can we?”

You swallowed, feeling small beneath the weight of his honey voice and warm blanket gaze and intimate closeness. Satan’s breath followed you, always billowing upon you gently until you smelled like smoke for the rest of the day.

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

Kept within the warmth and sanctity of his court, Satan had unraveled you so much that soon you couldn’t remember what it felt like to be cold.

The skies of Hell were accessible by looking through the window outside of your podium. Your temp agency had cut all contact with you. And although the counselor that flitted at Satan’s side had said he would get to the bottom of things, you felt as though he had also left you in the lurch.

Heat left you indolent. You lounged upon your priceless silk pillows more than you typed, hands busy fanning your face and wiping the sweat from your brow than continuing the farce of being a simple journalist.

Satan would open the gate once legal proceedings had ended, and he would take you in hand before adjourning to his private chambers. The breeze to and fro was a welcome relief — from the sweltering courtroom, the dizzying height, Yogirt’s insufferable grin, and Satan’s eyes following your every move.

He chuckled as he opened his hand to find you laid out on your back, exhausted.

“Oh little one.” The Sin brought his arm to his torso, cupping you to his well-defined chest. “The day has been long, hasn’t it?”

Your eyes rolled up to see the great dragon cast an indulgent smile upon you. The smile grew in size when lifted you higher, tickling your bared skin with a soft nudge and quiet snort.

His purr rolled over your muscles until you were numb, and the lick of his tongue on your midriff garnered no reaction. You sighed, resting your eyes again.

Satan jostled you. “Oh I know you’re tired, but there’s something I need to show you.“

“Another provision…?” Your own voice sounded so very far away.

It disappeared within Satan’s quietened laughter, still loud enough to echo around the room.

“You could call it that.” He murmured. “But it's not something I advertise, so you best keep it to yourself.”

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

“Fuck —” You gasped, feeling the heat of him sear you inside and out. This swelter was inescapable, no matter if the harbinger himself shrank down to be three heads taller than you instead of three-hundred thousand.

Satan had held you in his arms, crushing you to his well-kept physique of claret and golden scales. You awoke from your overheated daze to feel his body envelop yours and his smirk draped over your slackened mouth.

You felt his tongue slither in, still large enough that you could only suck on it. Satan groaned, igniting a flare up inside your belly. The flare pulsed and fluttered, growing into a roaring flame as the Sin carried you to the nearest plush surface. He laid you down, adjusting you with his tail wound below your behind.

Silk and satin and velvet brushed along your body in Satan’s caresses, his kisses and licks. Your thighs were pulled apart and the flames ate you up until you were screaming. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you were left begging for the Sin’s cock, even when at a glance it stood erect in angry, burning phosphorescent reds and oranges.

You dripped onto the bedspread as your lover turned you over and shoved pillows under your hips to elevate them.

The lordly dragon stretched you beyond your capacity, beyond what you had taken when he had delved into your sopping cunt with his thick fingers. The impale of his cock, felt deep into your womb, filled you too full.

“Oh please! Please move.” You sobbed. “I'll do anything, Your Honor!”

There was an audible snort of smoke as the Sin’s legs flexed and his length eased out of you. You shivered as you were nearly free, then squealed as he arched his hips and speared you again. The beast repeated the move again, before jarring you with a shallower thrust.

His experimental rhythm lasted for less than a minute as Satan found the speed that drew out the loudest and sweetest noises from your lips. What made you clutch his scaly fingers as they tightened around your figure, inching upward to palm at your breasts. You spasmed at the novelty of him being able to cup both of them with just one hand.

Satan draped himself over you, angular head resting over your shoulder while he lifted you up by the chin to look back at him.

“You’re enjoying yourself?” His gravelly tone rolled over your back.

You nodded. “Yes… yes… I-I’m gonna cum.”

Another groan rattled through you, with Satan losing control just enough to shove you into the mattress with his bulk.

“Please, can I cum?” You whined against the sheets. “Please let me cum, Your Honor.”

Satan’s hips smacked against your ass wetly, audibly. His thrusts came faster and harder as he humped into you with wild abandon. “Call me Satan. Call me — ! And I’ll give you everything, little one…”

“Sa-Satan! Can I c-cum?!” The words swirled together, slurred through a deluge of drool and mindless ecstasy. “Can I pl-please cum-m Satan? Plea-se Satan! Satan!”

The climax that savaged your body left you writhing and convulsing, barely able to comprehend Satan’s roar as he followed you into the abyss and glutted you with his white hot seed.

[vaguely-concerned]

insane actually how this entire conversation is recontextualized once you know what has actually happened, and the perspectives both people involved are working with. these two are Not having the same conversation and they have no idea. they have no idea!!! I'm going to throw myself into the ocean.

I couldn't decide if I like the stoic or purple option for the last dialogue choice better -- in the purple one it seems like harding thinks rook is deliberately if unusually clumsily trying to cheer her up and take both their minds off varric's death, and her reaction is so warm and quietly charmed and protective; she's looking directly at rook as she says 'I could focus on the people I can help now, *looks away* instead of those I couldn't'. but I think I have to go with the stoic one for rye, if nothing else then for the dramatic irony of having the mage go 'I'm just saying that no one is safe forever, even with magic' and not consciously know what he's actually saying -- what harding is hearing, that this conversation is maybe what makes her think that the subject is still tender enough that rook doesn't want to talk about it yet. 'oh. he does blame himself too he is feeling it even though he doesn't show it most of the time :('. (he IS feeling it and maybe that's what's shining through but he doesn't understand that he is. sick and twisted.) and so they never talk about it. because she's so kind that she takes what she thinks is a signal that it's too much for now seriously and then she's dEAD and they'll never get to talk about it. howling with grief of course in case you were wondering this is awful. and the first time around you have no way of knowing the many levels this conversation is working on at all. I knew the big twist already at this point in my first playthrough (I love a spoiler spoilers give me emotional security), but I still didn't get half the subtleties going on here because some of them are so specific and only make sense when you've been through the whole context. aaaaah

(of course the stoic option could also be read straight in a different setting/with a rook of a different temperament as 'neither of us could have done anything, shit just happens sometimes', depending on your read! but with a mage rook saying this and especially with rye it does very easily take on an undertone of 'well, I already had magic in that moment. and I couldn't protect him either'. which like. fucks me up ngl)

[queerfanfiction]

Love Notes (Ch. 7)

Larissa Weems x musicteacher!Reader Finally an update!

AO3 link

“Is it actually you?” Larissa’s voice sounds hoarse, her breath hitching slightly. You’re not sure if it’s due to her tears by the fountain earlier or if she is disappointed in the reveal. Her hands tremble at her sides, fingers curling as if to grasp onto something solid. Her blue eyes glisten with unspoken emotions, flickering between disbelief and cautious hope. There’s a vulnerability in her posture—a slight slouch of her shoulders, as though the weight of the moment has softened her usual poise.

Braving the unknown and attempting to control your own voice, you reply, “Of course.” You pause a moment, letting the warm, nutty aroma of the Weathervane wrap around you. “I’m a little surprised you never asked me directly. There were so many times I thought you had found me out.”

Silence.

The other woman seems puzzled. It’s the closest emotion you can track from her features—slightly furrowed brows, eyes distant and focused downward, staring into space. After a long moment waiting for a response from Larissa, or even a change in her facial expression, doubt gnaws from within your chest. Nervous explanations threaten to escape your lips, each word clawing at the back of your throat, desperate to fill the heavy silence. Your fingers begin nervously tracing the rim of your mug while your mind races, replaying every interaction that could have betrayed your secret, every glance Larissa might have misread. You think back to that day in Nevermore’s library when Larissa’s gaze lingered a moment too long on the notebook you hastily shut, its pages filled with annotations about her favorite songs. Or the time in the corridor when her lips curved into a puzzled smile as she caught you humming a tune she had once mentioned in passing. Every glance, every hesitation—it all feels like a series of missed revelations.

The weight of her unspoken thoughts press down on you, and you fight the urge to blurt out all your anxieties. You feel your cheeks warm and word vomit bubbling up to shield your own potential hurt. You take a shaky breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions threatening to spill over.

“I know you’re probably shocked… I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you or if you’re disappointed. I promise I haven’t been preying on our closeness or friendship. I admire you so much, and I didn’t want to push you away and lose our friendship by saying anything. I understand if you feel betrayed. I guess I took the coward’s way out not confessing sooner.”

As you speak, Larissa’s confused look turns into a frown. She brings her eyes up to yours, and you try not to become shy under her gaze. Thankfully, determination wins out over worry, and you hold firm when meeting Larissa’s eyes.

“When you were poisoned, I vowed to take a chance—to finally let myself get close to you.” You let in more emotion than intended while confessing the next part. “You were almost gone, Larissa. After the nightshade incident, I saw how much it affected you. How much you carry, day in and day out, to keep Nevermore running. I just… wanted to let you know someone noticed. That someone cared."

Catching you off guard, Larissa finally utters, “What about the florist?” She needs to methodically respond or bring up each point to clear her head of the mess inside.

“What do you mean what about the florist? James?”

Now it was Larissa’s turn to question herself. “I thought you two were an item.” Larissa attempts to keep her voice from sounding accusatory or too affected.

A shocked kind of relief comes over you as you process Larissa’s worry and justification. In response, you tease, “He was helping me plan the surprise for you. Or did you think I could magically summon flowers as one of my powers?”

A blush touched Larissa’s cheeks. She wasn’t used to being wrong, and certainly not in a way where others might poke fun at the circumstance. “No… I…” Larissa hesitated, her hands twisting nervously at the fabric of her gloves. Her usual poise was nowhere to be found. “I suppose I let my imagination… run away with me.”

You tilt your head, a small smile playing on your lips despite the tension. “Larissa Weems? Jealous? I didn’t think you had it in you.” A smile threatens at your lips.

The blush on Larissa’s face deepens, andshe straightens her posture, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. “I am not jealous. I simply… misinterpreted the situation.”

“If you say so,” you tease gently, though your heart is pounding.

Larissa’s eyes meet yours again, and the vulnerability in them makes your teasing fade immediately. She’s still uncertain—hesitant in a way you’ve never seen before. Her voice is quieter this time as she asks, “Why me?”

Your features soften, and you reach forward over the table to take her fidgeting hand in yours. “Why not you? You’re brilliant, headstrong, compassionate, and… gods, Larissa, you’re captivating. I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer. You deserve to know how extraordinary you are.” You continue to explain, “Even though I had been wanting to, Enid is actually the one who tipped the scales in favor of me confessing. She’s quite perceptive when she wants to be. Must be the gossip blog eye.”

Larissa’s lips part slightly, but no words come out. The emotions in her eyes are too numerous to name—hope, doubt, fear, and something that looks a little like longing. She’s searching your face for something, though you’re not entirely sure what.

Before you can gain clarity on her thoughts, she asks, “How did you do it?” Larissa gestures to the wall where you appeared in the Weathervane.

You knew Larissa hadn’t known about your ability to phase. You didn’t technically disclose that in your interview process for the music professor job. “Ah, well, it’s never come up in our discussions about music. It’s matter manipulation. It’s actually why I am able to create music so easily. I’m technically manipulating the sound waves in the air.”

You pause briefly, gauging her reaction before continuing. “It’s more than sound, though. I can phase through solid objects by breaking down my molecular structure and slipping between the spaces in matter. It’s… not as simple as it sounds, unfortunately. It requires immense focus and control, and if I’m not careful, I could destabilize the matter around me.”

Larissa’s brows furrow in fascination, her earlier confusion replaced by awe. She glances between your hands and your face, a flicker of wonder breaking through her usual composure. The weight of the revelation settles in her expression, a mix of admiration and disbelief. “You’ve been living with this… and using it so effortlessly,” she finally murmurs, her voice soft, almost reverent. “That’s incredible. You’ve been using this ability all along to create those… those beautiful compositions?”

You nod, smiling warmly at Larissa’s words. “Yes. Each note, each harmony, is carefully crafted by manipulating the vibrations in the air. It’s like painting with sound.”

A soft chuckle escapes her lips. “No wonder your music feels so alive. It’s a part of you.”

The sincerity in her voice sends more warmth through you, and you lower your gaze, feeling a little shy under her praise. “It’s not always easy,” you admit, unsure of how to proceed. “Sometimes, it’s overwhelming—hearing and feeling everything at once. But when I focus, it’s like… everything falls into place. Especially when I was creating the playlists for you. I wanted them to be perfect.”

Larissa’s other hand reaches out, her fingers squeezing yours. “They are perfect. And so are you.”

Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world seems to pause. The sounds of espresso shots being pulled and customers chattering fades into the background, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment of understanding and connection.

You sense Larissa’s curiosity growing as you two sit together for a few moments, her focus sharpening as she begins to grasp the depth of your abilities. “How far can it go?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. “Your powers, I mean. What else can you do?”

You take a moment to consider your answer, glancing at your hands as if they hold the key to what you want to say. “It’s… complicated. The more I practice, the more I understand. I can amplify soundwaves to create music that resonates on an emotional level. But I’ve also used it to calm people in panicked states—to harmonize the vibrations around them and bring peace to their bodies. It’s like tuning an instrument, but on a much larger scale for people’s limbic and nervous systems.”

Larissa’s eyes widen. “You can… calm people? Affect their emotions?”

You nod slowly. “Not in a controlling way, but more like… aligning their energy. Kind of like how humming and singing can stimulate one’s vagus nerve. It’s subtle, and I’d never use it without consent. But yes, I can help others find balance.”

Her expression shifts, a mix of admiration and intrigue. “And the phasing? Could you… could you go anywhere?”

“Not quite anywhere,” you say with a small laugh. “There are limits. It’s exhausting, and certain materials make it harder—denser metals, for example. But I’m learning. It’s as much about knowing my limits as it is about pushing them.”

Larissa’s hand tightens slightly around yours, grounding you in the moment. “You’re extraordinary,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “I hope you know that.”

Your cheeks flush, but you don’t look away. “Coming from you, that means everything.” For the first time, you feel completely seen—not just for your powers or your music, but for everything you are. And in Larissa’s eyes, you see that same vulnerability mirrored back at you.

After a moment, Larissa exhales shakily. “This is… a lot to take in.”

You nod, not sure whether or not to remove your hand from hers. “I understand. I’m not expecting an answer or anything right now. I just… I needed you to know.”

Larissa’s leg underneath the table brushes against yours. The touch is featherlight, but it sends a jolt through you. “Thank you,” she says softly, her voice almost trembling. “For everything.”

You rub her hands gently with your thumbs and offer her a small smile. “Always.”

Looking into your eyes thoughtfully before returning to the drinks in front of you two, Larissa suggests, “Shall I get us seconds, and you can tell me all about it?”

For the first time since the conversation began, you feel hope bloom in your chest. Whatever happens next, you’ve taken the first step. And that, you think, is enough for now.

You nod, but before Larissa can move, the door to the café opens abruptly, letting in a gust of cold air. A familiar face enters—a student from Nevermore, wide-eyed and clearly distressed.

“Headmistress Weems,” the student says, their voice shaky. “We need you. Something… something strange is happening back at school.”

Larissa’s expression sharpens immediately, the warmth between you momentarily replaced by her authoritative demeanor. She glances at you, an unspoken question in her eyes.

“Let’s go,” you say, already standing. Whatever was happening at Nevermore, you had no doubt you’d face it together.

—

The drive back to the school is tense, filled with the low hum of Larissa’s thoughts as she grips the steering wheel tightly. The student sits in the back, shifting nervously. You glance at Larissa, and she’s already deep in her role as Headmistress, her jaw set and eyes focused on the road.

As you arrive at the gates, you notice an eerie glow coming from the east wing of the campus. Students are gathered outside in small clusters, whispering nervously. The air is charged, static almost crackling as you step out of the car.

“What’s going on?” Larissa asks a nearby teacher, her voice calm but commanding.

The teacher, a young man with wide eyes that you’ve seen around the corridors, stammers, “I-it’s the greenhouse. Something’s happening inside. It’s… alive.”

“Alive?” you echo, stepping closer.

The teacher nods, visibly shaken. “The plants are… growing out of control. They’ve broken through the walls and windows. I don’t know how to stop it. All I could think to do was evacuate.”

Larissa turns to you, her expression grim and serious. “We need to contain this. Can your powers help?”

You nod, adrenaline already surging. “I’ll try.”

After ensuring other faculty secures the other entrances to the area, you and Larissa head toward the greenhouse. The closer you get, the more chaotic the scene becomes. The vines thrash wildly, scraping against the greenhouse walls with a screeching sound that sets your teeth on edge. Shards of glass crunch beneath your feet, mingled with the earthy scent of disturbed soil and an unnatural, sickly-sweet aroma. You two have to take pains to not trip over bits of broken stone across the ground. The air hums with tension, punctuated by sharp cracks as the plants force their way through wooden beams. A low, guttural groan emanates from deep within, as if the greenhouse itself is alive and in pain, urging you to hurry. Vines continue to twist and writhe, stretching toward the sky as if searching for something.

“Stay behind me,” Larissa instructs, but you shake your head.

You swallow a scoff. “We’re doing this together.”

As you step inside, the air grows thick with the scent of earth and something sweet, almost cloying. The plants seem to sense your presence, their movements becoming more erratic. You close your eyes, focusing on the vibrations around you, tuning into the chaotic energy of the greenhouse.

“I’ll work on de-escalating,” you say loudly over the noise, your voice steady despite the tension. “But I’ll need your help if they fight back.”

Larissa nods, her confidence unwavering and her eyes narrowing. “Let’s do this.”

You extend your hands like a conductor, feeling the vibrations of the plants, their restless energy like a discordant symphony. Slowly, carefully, you begin to harmonize with them, sending waves of care and concern through the space. The vines hesitate, their movements slowing as if listening.

But then, a new surge of energy ripples through the greenhouse… stronger and darker than before. Something else is here, something angry.

“There’s a source,” you say urgently, your voice strained. The pulsing energy of the greenhouse thrums in your chest, a heavy, discordant beat that resonates uncomfortably. You can feel it lashing at the edges of your senses… a strange, dark rhythm that grows stronger as you focus on it. It’s as if the source itself is alive, and with each beat, it radiates anger and desperation, sending waves of hostility through the writhing plants around you. Your eyes are closed in fierce concentration, searching for the cause. “Something is controlling them.” You grimace before continuing, “It’s overwhelming,” you add while opening your eyes and glancing at Larissa, “but I can pinpoint it.”

Larissa’s eyes scan the room, and she points to a dark mass in the center of the chaos, pulsating with unnatural light. “There.”

You look to Larissa and then to the area of her gaze; you inhale a deep breath and nod—steeling yourself. Together, you and Larissa move toward the source, determined to face whatever lies ahead.

The source in the center pulses erratically, its light shifting between crimson and black while the rest of the greenhouse seems to grow darker. The ground beneath your feet trembles as the plants around it writhe with renewed aggression, as though they sense your intent. Twisted, gnarled vines guard the pulsating mass of energy, reaching out at you two with sharp thorns. The closer you get, the heavier the air becomes, thick with the tang of iron and an oppressive, unearthly heat. Larissa grips your arm briefly, her expression steely but edged with concern.

“We’re definitely close,” you murmur, the vibrations from the source nearly overwhelming your senses. You focus harder, threading calming energy into the space, though the resistance is dangerously palpable. The mass—a gnarled root-like structure entwined with glowing tendrils—reacts violently, emitting a sharp, dissonant sound that sends a jolt of pain through your temples.

“It’s protecting itself,” Larissa says urgently, stepping forward. With a swift, deliberate motion, she pulls a small silver knife from the folds of her coat, its blade etched with ancient runes. “Do you trust me?”

You peer into the piercing eyes of this woman who has slowly transfixed herself into your life, spilling into and filling all the little gaps within it. Some that you didn’t even know you wanted filled. Breathlessly, you respond, “Yes.”

Satisfied and seemingly making a mental note of something due to the expression on her face, Larissa continues, “Can you disrupt it while I try to sever the connection?”

You nod, bracing yourself as you extend your arms again. The air around the mass is chaotic, a storm of discordant vibrations that resist your attempts to harmonize them. Sweat beads on your forehead as you push harder, weaving threads of order into the cacophony. After grueling minutes that seem like hours, the vines closest to the mass begin to falter, their thrashing movements growing sluggish.

Larissa moves with precision, her knife slicing through the tendrils feeding into the core of the mass. Her jaw tightens with determination, and a flicker of something fierce glints in her eyes. Each cut seems deliberate, as though she’s channeling every ounce of her strength and focus into severing the connection. You can almost sense her resolve, a quiet intensity radiating from her. This isn’t just about the greenhouse—it’s about protecting the students, the school, and perhaps even you. She doesn’t falter, even as the mass retaliates with bursts of angry energy. Each cut elicits a shriek from the greenhouse, the sound echoing like a wounded animal. The ground shudders violently, and for a moment, you lose your balance, falling to one knee. The source’s crimson light flares, blinding and searing hot, and you feel its fury lash out at you.

“Hold on!” Larissa calls out, her voice steady despite the chaos. Her final strike severs the last connection, and the mass collapses inward with a deafening roar, its light extinguished. The vines that had crawled around you during the encounter go limp, their aggressive energy dissipating into silence.

You collapse back, breathless and trembling, as the oppressive weight in the air begins to lift. The tension that had wrapped around your chest like a vise slowly eases, leaving you lightheaded but strangely calm. Your fingers dig briefly into the cool soil beneath you, grounding yourself against the lingering tremors in your body. Each inhale feels sharper, cleaner, as though the air has been renewed. Relief washes over you in waves, mingled with an almost surreal disbelief that it’s over as quickly as it began. Larissa kneels beside you, her face a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

“Are you alright?” she asks, her hand coming to lightly rest on the side of your face, brushing tenderly against your jaw.

You nod weakly, managing a small smile. “We did it.”

The two of you sit in the aftermath, the greenhouse eerily still. Outside, the muffled sounds of students and faculty stir as the danger subsides. You exchange a glance with Larissa, and for a moment, the world feels suspended once more—this time, in quiet triumph.

As the silence settles in the greenhouse, your gaze drifts back to the crumpled remains of the pulsating mass. The memory of its crimson and black glow lingers in your mind, vivid and haunting. What was it? You reach out instinctively with your senses, searching for any lingering traces of its energy, but there’s nothing—just an empty void where its chaotic presence once thrived.

“Do you think it’s truly gone?” you ask Larissa, your voice barely above a whisper.

She follows your line of sight, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know,” she admits, her voice heavy with thought. “But whatever it was, it felt… deliberate. As though it had a purpose.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you recall the way the mass seemed to lash out, not just in anger, but in defiance. The way the violent energy seemed to resist every attempt to subdue it. “It wasn’t just growing wildly,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “It was looking for something.”

Larissa looks at you sharply, her brows knitting together. “Looking for what, exactly?”

You shake your head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I don’t know, but it didn’t feel random. That energy, it was… searching. Reaching.” You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. “Almost like it was trying to connect.”

Larissa’s gaze hardens, her eyes narrowing in thought. For another long moment, neither of you speaks, the weight of the ruined greenhouse surrounding you, punctuated only by the occasional creak of broken glass and rubble settling. Finally, Larissa rises, brushing dirt from her coat with a slow, deliberate motion.

“If it was searching,” she says quietly, “we need to find out what it wanted—and why it was here.” Her expression is unreadable.

You nod again in agreement, though unease still coils tightly in your chest. Whatever answers the mass held, you know they won’t come easily. “Do you think it’s connected to the school? Or something outside of it?” you ask, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Larissa tilts her head slightly, considering. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t natural. And the fact that it was here, on Nevermore grounds…” She trails off, her jaw tightening. “We can’t ignore it.”

The weight of her words settles heavily over you. The questions that the mass of tendrils leaves behind feel as tangled and complex as the vines it controlled. One thing is certain: the danger isn’t over.

—

Tagging: @lilsmeaux, @suckerforcate, @rickistheman, @tundra1029, @aster-loves-gwen, @justcallmelittleone, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @lvinhs, @one-pining-queer, @kimiinou, @bobia13, @gwendolinechristieiscute, @kay-liah-scope, @readingtheentrails, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @weemssapphic, @ctrlamira, @im-a-carnivorous-plant, @winterfireblond, @gwendolinechristiesnumberonegirl, @enchantressb, @machi-avelli, @alder-saan.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for updates or have your tag taken off for future posts. :)

[itsblasttothepast]

To my fellow Chequistas/Checolovers: you are all amazing, and I know this has hit us hard, unexpected (even when we felt it was leading this way) and poorly handled by a team that doesn't care about their drivers.

Checo looks at peace, happy and relaxed. He is different than when he lost his seat in Racing Point, perhaps because this time it was his decision, and this has been cooking for a long time. Remember when we said Checo had been more outspoken about the team's issues with the car and the failures? When he yelled at Bird? When he marked the mistakes over the radio? Checo knew he had to make a choice for himself, instead of just staying and being miserable.

I'm happy he decided to put himself first this time, and even when there's the possibility of retirement after this, I feel he wants to retire in his own terms and with a different taste than this 2024 left.

So if you need time to regroup, to feel better and assimilate this, we are going to be here for you. If you decide you had enough and move on to other things/fandoms, that's okay too, and if you want to come back we are here with open arms. We are a supportive community, Checo has taught us the importance of being positive, never give up and keep our dreams.

For my part, I'll keep posting Checo things, updating about his social media things, and making joked about the drivers. I'll still ship Chestappen, Chewis and Hulkenrez, and I hope the authors who write amazing fics about them continue, because they're amazing and your stories cheer me up a lot.

Also I met amazing people here, and I want to continue with the conspiracy theories with my buddy @simplywrong, and having tag conversations with @your-ace-cousin-clover; I want to see @selfishpresley's posts about Checo's dick and headcanons of how to get it, and @baby-alien11 and @kirasworldofwords posts about different opinions regarding everything F1 related; I want to keep exchanging fanfic ideas (particularly Chewis) with @wishfuldivine, and seeing the Strollonso content @aston14s and Lance content @11nevergiveup11 post with some Checo appearances; I want to read @lunarprophetuwu posts about the importance of mental health and ending stereotypes, and @cherriebbyyyy posts about Carlos (I'm becoming a fan). I want to understand @vegasgrandprix Checo posts and puns, as sometimes I get lost, but it's so much fun! and see the wonderful pictures @bluebirdy04, @coffee-bulls, @rojasnn post, and exchanging opinions in spanish with @yolixpan. Seeing the amazing fanart @saicoon shares, and the sense of humor of @luna-sibuna-trying (your posts/reblogs, even when they're not F1 related, cheer me up).

And to those who are new and feel you missed the best Checo era, don't worry about it, the best is yet to come, and in the meanwhile, the Chequitas/Checolovers community will keep the Checo fever, because he's not meant to be forgotten, even the haters keep barking even when he's out of RBR.

This post is to thank you all for your amazing impact in my journey here in tumblr, I have so many people to mention, but I'm getting a little emotional and I'll ramble as usual. You made being a Checo/F1 fan a fun and wonderful thing, and I hope we can continue despite of people celebrating Checo's leaving, well, guess what? The fans stay and will continue loving him.

To those who stay, see you in the dash/inbox and messages. Those who leave temporarily, take as much time as you need and we'll be here when you come back. To those who decide to move on, I wish you the best in your journey and if you want to come back someday, we are a tag away!

Baby model Checo for all of you!

¡Gracias por estar!

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

What do you think of season 2 of arcane? i've seen quite... a contrasting reaction from the public when compared to the reaction that s1 got

[cracks knuckles] ok, first some context: I was, and still am, largely unfamiliar with the League of Legends video games, which probably colors my perception of Arcane as a whole. The first season was incredible. 10/10 no notes. It's a masterpiece of animation hands down. One of its many strengths is that it sticks to a self-contained story that does not require lore knowledge or even knowledge of who the characters from the games are. It's a character drama wrapped in a steampunk/sci-fi/fantasy aesthetic. It tells a grounded story that follows its characters as their arcs play out all the way through to the end. I love it and habitually rewatched it while waiting for season 2.

...And then season 2 came and it kinda went. I enjoyed the season. The animation, music, voice acting, all incredible and it's what makes the season a joyride. But that's pretty much what it is. A joyride. That grounded story and character drama was largely dropped for bigger stakes and it feels like the season lost the plot. You were invested in the Zaun/Piltover conflict? Let's have Jayce give a half-assed speech about working together to defeat a common enemy and give Sevika a token seat at the councillors' table. You wanted to see how Jinx and Vi's relationship developed after the bombing? Well, Vi says "my sister is gone." Until Vander/Warwick shows up. But they don't really talk about their relationship or how much they've both changed. They're just cool with each other know.

Did you want to see how Jinx deals with the fallout of killing her father figure and embracing the role of the Mad Bomber? Well, she kinda mopes for a bit. Finds a street urchin that magically cures her of her mental instability. oops, street urchin is dead. Jinx is depressed now. fun. It's not like the marketing lead us to believe that Jinx was going to be an actual antagonist, right?

right?

Now, I know trailers and posters can be misleading but come on. Season 1 ended with her fully becoming Jinx and I feel like she was more Jinx-like there than in season 2.

We got less of the sisters than in the first season despite being the emotional core of the story. Part of that is the escalating conflict and having far too many antagonists. We have Ambessa, Viktor, and the Black Rose and they all take up too much screen time (this last one was a huge ??? for me as a noob to the games. Actually, Mel's whole arc in season 2 was so divorced from season 1 that it feels like they just gave her magic powers just so she could participate in the fight). The other part is that when the sisters are together, they don't really say or do anything meaningful. The dialogue is rather boilerplate and there's no emotional weight to their scenes. It's just there.

That's really my problem with season 2 as a whole, it just feels like it's ticking off boxes to get to the big action sequences, and even some of those felt superfluous (did we really need a fight scene with Smeech? Smeech? Who the fuck is he and why should we care?). The funny thing is that, there are a lot of good ideas here. Jinx feeling conflicted about suddenly being seen as a symbol of the people? Awesome! Caitlyn falling under the sway of Ambessa as she mourns her mother and gasses innocent civilians in her mad pursuit of Jinx? Great! Viktor slowly losing his humanity and becoming the Machine Herald while Jayce struggles to right what they have wronged and get his friend back? Excellent! The problem is that they're all crammed together and don't get room to breathe, so everything is rushed and unsatisfactory.

When your first season ends with four people at a dinner table that explores their character dynamics and your second season's climax looks like a Marvel movie, there's a problem.

(also, side tangent: Silco and Vander's backstory was shoddy and contradictory. Making them BFFs with Vi and Jinx's mom was a bad idea. It cheapens Vander's decision to leave behind a life of violence and adopt two orphans. It introduces a plot hole that Silco wasn't around for the kids' childhood and makes that moment when he tries to kill Powder extra weird. PLUS, we have the ever lovely trope of fridging a woman and making her the catalyst of conflict between two male characters 😒

although this season did make me ship these two, so there's that👍)

(another mini tangent: I'm not fond of making a time traveling Viktor the one who gave baby Jayce the rune stone. That scene was one of my favorites from season 1 and the mage actually being Viktor just makes the world feel smaller and less enigmatic YMMV).

So there you have it. An overall okay season but one that pales in comparison to its predecessor.

[asheli1515]

The Place You Found Me || Rafe Cameron

best!friend!reader X soft!rafe

a/n: heyyyy. I hope you like this one. I love a good 'one character is injured and the other comforts them" story. I also love writing Rafe's emotional side and him being an emotionally intelligent man so this was born. Hope ya'll are having a great holiday season!!

word count: ~3.8k (a longer one)

warnings/disclaimers: angst, fluff, brief mentions of violence, daddy issues, ward mentioned, mental health, mentions of self-harm, unhealthy coping mechanisms

summary: When a heated argument with Ward spirals out of control, Rafe vanishes without a word, leaving everyone—including his childhood best friend—in the dark. As the only person who truly knows Rafe’s complex, troubled soul, Reader immediately senses something is deeply wrong. Determined to uncover the truth, they embark on a search, while wrestling with their own fears and emotions. Will their unyielding bond be enough to bring Rafe back, or has he finally reached the breaking point that sends him beyond their reach?

masterlist

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READER POV:

Rafe has been missing for days – three, to be exact. Everyone has been telling me that he will show back up eventually because ‘he always does this.’ However, to me, this time feels different than the others… like the dam finally broke.

It was another fight between Rafe and his father, Ward, that caused his disappearance. It must have been particularly bad this time because Ward is looking about as good as a boxer after a fight. He had a cut on his eyebrow and a bruised cheekbone, as well as bloodied knuckles that lead me to believe Rafe will have wounds that will mirror his own. The most sickening part of this is the smile on Ward's face. He is playing the part of a concerned father very poorly. I've been privy to many altercations between the father and son over the years and this is Ward's response every time. He pretends like nothing happened, like Rafe isn't falling apart in front of him, like it isn't his fault. It breaks my heart every time because I can see how broken he is but it seems like no one else can. It might be because they don't want to so that their precious reputation can remain unmarred.

I know more about the behind-the-scenes dealings of the Cameron’s because of my friendship with Rafe. It is one of the most bizarre aspects of my life because I don't even know how to explain how it happened. All I know is one day we bumped into each other at an event put on by the Cameron's for some charity or holiday. From then on, we were inseparable. Wherever I was, Rafe was not far behind. People always speculated about what we were to each other, but we never labeled it. We just knew that no one knew us like we knew each other. However, recently I have been feeling more...intense feelings toward him. I tried ignoring them for the sake of our friendship, but I definitely failed. I know that because of how my heart feels like it's being squeezed to the point of exploding. Rafe is not a stranger to reckless behavior, and I am terrified to figure out what drastic measures he might have taken after the fight. If anything happened to him, I don't know what I would do. What if he-

No, I can't think like that. He wouldn't do that to me...he couldn't. As this thought crosses my mind, a tear slips from my eye. I quickly wiped the evidence away from my cheek and head into the Cameron's house. I run into Sarah on my way to Rafe’s room. Ever since he vanished, I had made a daily routine of going to his room to try and figure out where he could have gone. I also have been going in there because I miss him desperately. I have never missed anyone this much and I don't know how to deal with it so I just sit. I sit in his room to be close to him but also in the hope that he'll show up eventually like he usually does.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Sarah questions as we pass each other in the foyer. She looks like she has gotten about as much sleep as I have, which is none. She doesn’t like to admit it, but she really does love him and this is tearing her up inside.

“I’m okay.” I lie unconvincingly. “Ugh, no I’m not. I’m actually really scared for him. I don’t like not knowing where he is or what trouble he’s gotten himself into. I mean you know how reckless he is when his emotions are high. I-I just want him to be back here with us…me.” I finish my tangent and try to calm myself down. I can’t let my emotions get the better of me, especially not now.

She sighs and gives me a hug which I reciprocate immediately. “I know…it will be okay, alright?” She pulls back and looks me in the eyes. I can see her sincerity and it makes me relax, if only a little.

“Thank you, Sarah. I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re a really good friend and sister.” I smile but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “I’m going to look for him at a few places that seem promising later if you want to join.” I offer.

She shakes her head. “No, it should be you. I know we’re siblings but my bond with him couldn’t even hold a candle to yours. He’ll respond better to you.” She says matter-of-factly. The fact that she feels this way makes me feel slightly guilty. I don’t want to make her feel like I am more important to him than she is.

“Are you sure?” I ask with a slight frown.

“Yes, absolutely! I just want him back and you are our best chance of that happening.” She states. She opens her mouth again as if she was going to continue speaking but shuts it after she thinks for a moment. It was as if she was unsure if she should say whatever it was that almost came out of her mouth.

I look at her with questioning eyes. “What were you going to say?”

She looks conflicted but eventually speaks. “I can’t give you the answer you want because what I was going to say should come from Rafe. All I will say is that you know he loves you, right? Like more than I have ever seen him love anyone, even our father which is a difficult thing to accomplish.” She stops speaking when she realizes that she was rambling. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to what you were doing. Go find him for us, yeah?” She finishes and walks out of the house and toward her car.

Her words hit me hard because I know he loves me and that's why this hurts so much. He loves me but isn't in love with me, though, that doesn't matter right now.

I need to find him and soon.

I open the door to his room and find myself sitting at the foot of his bed. I pull my knees into my chest and lean my head back on to the bedspread. I sit there for a while just observing the contents of the room that are the same as they were yesterday and the day before that. His room is clean which is unexpected given the jumbled-up mess I know his mind was in before he left. There is a bulletin board with important notes and pictures, a lot of them are either from me or I am in. This realization brings a genuine smile to my face and it's the first one I've had in days. Most people assume Rafe Cameron doesn't have a sentimental bone in his body, but he does. I've seen it first-hand but the others in Kildare never even give him a chance to show them how kind he can be. They paint him as this uncontrollable, cold monster but that's just not him.

After a while, I leave Tannyhill to go to the first location on my list. There's an overlook on the island that is usually avoided by the town’s residents because there is no railing to prevent people from falling. Rafe, however, loves it because of that fact. He likes the adrenaline of standing close to the edge and it terrifies me every time we go there but I go for him. When I get there I find it to be lacking his presence and head to the next spot on my list.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

After hours of running around to places all over Kildare. I finally reached the last place on my list. I'm starting to lose hope of ever finding him and I hate that feeling. The feeling of never seeing somebody you care about again and there's nothing you can do to fix it.

As I approached my last chance of finding him, I pause to take it in. The building I am met with used to be a greenhouse but has long since been abandoned. Half of the roof is sunken in and the plants that were housed inside are now overgrown. Vines and grass cover most of the exterior giving the illusion of a jungle. I eventually made my way to the entrance, maneuvering under the vines growing over the front doors. Once I am inside, the darkness overwhelms me and I wait for my eyes to adjust.

Once they do, I see tables with potted plants sprawled out across them and an amount of dust that can only come with time. Eventually, in the corner of my eye, I see him... sitting against the wall across the room.

“Rafe!” I gasp quietly.

I run to his side and see the extent of his injuries immediately. He has a black eye, a busted lip, and bruised knuckles. None of it looks life threatening which puts some of my fears to rest but not all of them.

“Rafe? Hey, it’s me. Can you look at me?” I ask gently.

He looks up at me and I almost break down in tears at the brokenness I find in his eyes. He looks like he has given up and that is tearing me up inside.

“Hey…” He says softly. “You found me.”

“Yeah, I did. I know you like it here. The whole ‘beauty of destruction’ thing…how could I forget?” I say sadly.

He smiles weakly. “I knew you would find me eventually. You know me better than anyone.” He moves to face me and winces slightly due to his wounds.

“I hate that you have to see me like this…” He trails off and looks away from me like he should be embarrassed over something that Ward did.

“You shouldn’t even be hurt. This is all your dad’s fault just like it always is.” I stop when I realize that I am getting worked up over something that is not important in this moment. “Sorry, I shouldn’t say that.” I apologize to Rafe. The apology is unnecessary though because he isn’t exactly unaware of my disdain for his father. Ever since I learned about the way Ward treats him, looking at him at him made me feel sick to my stomach.

He looks at me fondly and takes my hand in his. “It’s okay…I know you don’t like him. I’m not even sure I like him most days but he’s my father, ya know?”

He absent-mindedly rubs circles on my palm with his thumb while I attempt to formulate a response.

“I know he is…I just can’t stand to see you hurting, Rafe.” I say as a tear slips down my cheek. I have been trying to keep my emotions in check these past few days but I am not sure how much longer I can keep it up.

“Hey, don’t cry. I’m okay, I promise.” He says softly as he wipes the tear from my cheek as he cups my face and makes me look at him.

I look into his eyes as more tears escape mine. “I know you are…this time. But what if you aren’t next time? I can’t do this without you, Rafe. I can’t.”

He pulls me into a hug that I can tell was needed by both of us. I needed it to prove to me that he is really here in this moment, and he needed it to keep him tethered to reality.

“You won’t have to. I promise that I am never going to leave you, okay?”

I nod into his shoulder as my face is currently buried in the crook of his neck. Something about today, this moment with Rafe, feels different. The air around us feels more charged than usual and I am scared to do anything as if moving will ruin it.

“I really missed you the past few days…a lot.” I say into his shoulder as I take a deep breath to calm myself after the stress of the days prior.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He sighs as he says this. “I wanted to come back but every time I thought about going back and facing my dad made it impossible to. I wanted to tell you that I was okay, but I didn’t want my dad to find me this time. I-I needed to just get away from it all. Before I knew it, it had been three days, and I realized that I needed to come back. That I had to come back for you at the very least.” He looked into my eyes then and my heart stopped beating.  

The way he said those words and the way he is currently looking at me right now makes my breath hitch. His gaze is not his usual friendly one but one that holds something deeper. It makes me question if he feels for me even a little of what I feel for him.

“Rafe…” I whisper breathlessly as I don’t trust my voice to not shake if I were to speak with more force.

I don’t even know what I planned to say when his name came out of my mouth. Was I going to say something profound that would help him move on from this disastrous situation we were currently in? Or was I going to be stupid and just blurt out the fact that I loved him, that I was in love with him. Knowing me it was most likely going to be the latter.

The thought of confessing to him was absolutely terrifying but what is equally, if not more, terrifying is loving someone and never getting to tell them that fact. When he disappeared three days ago, I was sure he was going to come back. What the people in town were telling me was not far from the truth. He always came back. Then one day turned into two and two turned into three. I was so scared that three days was going to turn into some ridiculously high number and that high number would turn into forever.

I thought I wasn’t going to see him again and the part that broke me the most was the fact that I hadn’t told him how I felt…how I feel still. This whole experience has made me realize that life is too short to lie to myself about my feelings or be afraid of them not being reciprocated. Yes, there was a chance that he wouldn’t feel the same way, but I would rather take that chance than never get to tell him how I feel. I owe it to myself and Rafe to be honest. I would rather live with rejection than live with never knowing his true feelings towards me. In this moment, I decide to tell Rafe how I feel, and I am terrified.

“Rafe, I need to tell you something. I need you to listen and not say anything until I am finished, okay? I need to get this out and I don’t know if I can if you stop me.” I speak quickly as my nerves start to pick up.

He looks at with a concerned expression but agrees to what I asked of him.

“Okay…” I exhale the breath I didn’t realize that I was holding and prepare to tell him all that I have wanted to tell him for the past few months. I move my hand to the side of his face, a whisper of a touch grazing his face. I then pull my hand away to speak.

“Um, okay. To begin, I was so afraid that I had lost you the past couple of days. I know I already told you this, but I really want to emphasize that fact because I need you to understand how hopeless I have felt without you. I mean you told me about how you’ve struggled with your mental health over the years and about the fact that you are impulsive to a fault.” I stop for a moment to take a breath before continuing.

The next sentence comes out in a whisper as if saying it out loud would make it true. “I thought that…that maybe you had done something to yourself.”

“I know you wouldn’t do that to your family o-or me but I started thinking of every worst-case scenario since your fight with Ward. I know you do this when you get overwhelmed, but you usually text me within a few hours or at least by the next day. When you didn’t do that this time, I panicked. I knew it had to be different because you wouldn’t purposely leave me like that.” I reach up to caress the side of his face. I had to be as close to him as possible in this moment and I didn’t care if this action gave away the feelings that I have locked away for so long.

“Anyway, all of this has made me realize something. I have realized that life is short, and I have no idea what could happen or what tomorrow holds. I realized that I need to be honest with you about something that I haven’t even been completely honest with myself about until recently.” I take a deep breath and prepare to confess my feelings to him.

“What I’m trying to say, Rafe, is…I’m in love with you.” My voice comes out timidly and almost like I am unsure of myself. I don’t dare to look at him because I am afraid that I will be met with an expression of pity. I remove my hand from his face so that he can take in everything I had just told him. My hand is almost back at my side when he grabs it with his own and puts my hand back where it was a few moments ago. He leans into my touch and his tense muscles relax in a way that I haven’t seen in a long time.

I stop breathing

“Look at me.” He says this in such a gentle way that I almost pass out.

When I still don’t look at him, he puts his hand on my face in the same manner that my hand is on his face. I make eye contact with him and a shiver runs down my spine. The eyes that I am met with are not ones of pity, but ones filled with the most love that I have ever seen…and it’s for me.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say that.” He breathes as his eyes well up with tears. “I have loved you ever since we first met. I didn’t know why or how it happened, but I always wanted to be around you. You were always on my mind, and it was the strangest feeling for me because I had never felt for anyone else what I do for you, sweetheart.” A tear slips down his cheek and I quickly wipe it away with my thumb.

“You quiet my mind and that is something I've strived so long for. My mind is always so loud and overwhelming but with you…” He pauses to kiss my palm. The heat of his touch lingering long after his lips leave my skin. “…with you I was finally able to just be. I was finally able to hear what really mattered.”

“I am so madly in love with you, baby. I was yours the moment I laid eyes on you, even if I hadn’t realized it yet.” I am completely dumbfounded by the words coming out of his mouth that I can’t even find my own to respond with.

“I am so sorry for leaving you without telling you where I was going. I never meant for it to go this far. I was just so overwhelmed that I couldn’t think straight. I promise that I will talk to you next time before doing anything. I don’t want you to feel like I abandoned you ever again. I am so proud of you for being honest with me, you know that? You are my reason to stay so as long as you are here, I will be too.” He finishes speaking and it sounds as if he is out of breath.

I am truly speechless. He loves me…he loves me? I never in a million years thought that Rafe could ever love me but here we are. I am still at a loss for words but luckily actions speak louder than the words I can’t seem to find.

I lean in and kiss Rafe in a gentle way to test the waters. Electricity shoots through me as he responds to my advances. The kiss was soft, tentative, and delicate. It deepened, not with urgency, but with a steady, quiet intensity—a sharing of something neither of us ever thought would be shared. Every sensation—the warmth of his skin, the faint tremor in his hands, the way our heartbeats seemed to sync—was magnified. When we finally parted, it was only by a fraction, our lips lingering close enough to feel the faintest brush of breath.

Our eyes met, and in that gaze, everything was laid bare. In this moment, I was more content than I ever have been in my entire life. It felt as if my whole future could be more than I ever thought it could be. As I looked into Rafe’s eyes, I saw a love that could never be broken, one that I wanted for so long.

Rafe loved me…he was in love with me, and I would never take that fact for granted.

“This is the best moment of my life,” I say, laughing and smiling at him. I could barely believe the events that had transpired in the past hour, but I knew I would remember them forever.

“Mine too.” He said this with such warmth that I could barely feel the cool air in the greenhouse anymore.

“Let’s get you back to your sister. She had been worried sick.” I say as I help him stand up from the floor.

“Has she now? I find that hard to believe.” He jokes as he slings an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. He places a kiss on the top of my head.

“Shut up! You know she loves you… in her own way.” I giggle thinking about how Sarah loves to tease him. Despite this, Rafe and I know that she cares about him more than she lets on.

As we walk out of the greenhouse and to my car, I am filled with a hope that wasn’t there before. I am excited to see what the future holds for me and Rafe but right now? Right now was enough for me.

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© 2024, asheli1515. All rights reserved.

[peppermintquartz]

Rocker's team has gone home and 60-squad is out, so there aren't many people at HQ. Rocker should have gone home too, but he is instead gloving up. Deacon waits at the heavy bag for him.

When Rocker finally gets to the bag, his face is closed off and his eyes stormy. Neither of them say anything; Deacon braces the bag and Rocker starts jabbing and punching, really laying into it.

He hits and he hits and he hits and he hits, and Deacon takes the muffled impact of the punches. Rocker keeps going, sweat pouring from his brow, and he suddenly roars and punches so hard that Deacon staggers back and the entire bag sways dangerously.

Arms hanging limply from his sides, Rocker is taking deep, heaving breaths, and the moment his gaze meets Deacon's, the older man quickly gets to Rocker and wraps his arms around him before they both sink to the floor.

Rocker is crying now, silent and gasping sobs, his entire body shaking from the emotional turmoil. He presses his face into Deacon's neck. Deacon cradles Rocker's sweaty head, fingers rubbing circles at the base of his skull, and his other hand pats him between his shoulders.

A couple of newer officers take one look at the scene when they turn the corner and raise their brows. Deacon glares at them and they immediately backtrack, choosing to detour. Then Luca comes into view, slapping a folder against his thigh. He cocks his head and points to himself and then to Rocker.

Deacon nods before whispering to Rocker, "It's Luca. It's just Luca."

Rocker's crying doesn't subside fully, but he murmurs, "Okay."

Luca joins them, squatting down behind Rocker to pet his head and help him remove the gloves. Neither Luca nor Deacon say anything when Rocker reaches around Deacon to hug him back.

It takes about ten minutes before Rocker regains enough composure to let go of Deacon. Luca helps him to his feet.

"Thanks," Rocker says thickly to them both.

"No need. It was a rough day for your team," Deacon replies. "And you got the bastards."

"If Stevens hadn't been there, I don't know what I'd have done," Rocker confesses quietly. His eyes close again and his jaw tenses. "They were so little. Barely more than babies."

Being SWAT means sometimes seeing the worst of humanity. All three of them know this fact too well, but sometimes nothing can prepare a person for the depths of depravity some people can sink to.

Luca embraces Rocker tightly. "Take a couple days off. I'll pop by with some lunch from the truck, my treat."

Rocker sniffs. "Thanks. I'll be here, actually, finishing up the paperwork." He smiles as Luca lets go. "I still want that free lunch though."

"You'll get it, pretty boy." Punching Rocker lightly on his shoulder, Luca tilts his head and studies them both. Deacon feels like Luca is looking right into his soul. Then Luca shrugs and picks up the folder he set on the boxing ring. "Deac, come on. I need some help with these."

"You sure you're okay?" Deacon asks Rocker, unable to hide his concern.

Rocker manages a small smile. "I'll be fine. Do your job, Deacon."

As they walk away, leaving Rocker to put away his gear, Luca says quietly, "Is there something there I'm not supposed to see?"

Sometimes Deacon wishes Luca is less perceptive. "I don't know what you mean."

"Deacon." Luca pauses, halfway up the stairs. He looks at Deacon and Deacon meets his scrutiny, lets his defenses fall away. Maybe there is something in his expression that tells Luca exactly what he wants to see. Luca exhales and shakes his head. "I'm telling you, Deac. It's not worth it."

"I still don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do, and I'm gonna stop talking about it." He hands his folder over to Deacon. "Help me narrow down the list of recruits."

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

For Trine, what are Anselm and Reader giving Blue for a holiday present? Also, Blue doesn't talk about his past much; does he seem a little *cough* blue for this time of year? Does he have bad memories, or is he worried about what to gift Reader and Anselm?

Oh my gossh jaspoagjpsodg I am so emotional over this!! <3 Thank you so much for sending me these thoughts!

Trine [12]: Nice List

Anselm Vogelweide x Blue Jones x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Trine Masterlist • ko-fi •

Warnings: sexy times mentions, Blue feeling a little blue, typos, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 584

Anselm is upstairs wrapping ecstatically. He enjoyed being far too over the top about the matter and wrapping gifts himself for those he cared about deeply, often decorating the presents with things that properly weren’t best suited as gift toppers. But they were fantastic and oh so very Anselm nonetheless. 

It was however best to leave him to his own devices when he was wrapped, even if he wasn’t wrapping things you weren’t allowed to see. He’d had the ‘gift wrapping room’ rearranged long before you’d gotten married so that you could both have space without being able to see what the other was working on.

He’d commissioned a beautiful belt for Blue, the metal clasp engraved with mistletoe after Blue had held a bunch over his dick earlier in the month and asked Anselm for a kiss. 

You head downstairs, walking through the smaller, ‘private’ rooms that you prefer over the grandeur more traditionally mansion-looking cavernous spaces that are many there to entertain guests and intimate associations.  

Blue is staring out of one of the large windows in the living room, his head slightly slumped to the side. The weak, gloomy light catches him at a sweet angle, almost making him look like a statue for a moment. Something a skilled artisan had spent hours pouring over. 

He doesn’t notice you, too twisted up in his own thoughts until you place a hand on his arm. 

“Blue?” 

He blinks and turns, smiling and trying to shift the sombre look on his face. He manages it mostly, but the emotion still pales his eyes. 

“Are you okay?” You stroke his cheek and he nuzzles into your palm, placing his hand over yours and kissing your wrist. 

He nods. 

“It’s a good job you’re pretty.” You wait until he gives you a quizzical look before you continue, “Because you’re a terrible liar.”

He smiles, warmer this time. 

“Your emotions are always written all over your face.” You tap his nose playfully and he leans towards you to rub his forehead against yours, kissing down your cheek to your neck and wrapping his arms around you. 

“Are you worried about what Anselm said earlier?” You say playfully as you hug him back. 

“Hmm?”

“That he’s going to dress up as Krampus and ravage you?” 

Blue snorts, “If I recall correctly, you were also going to dress up as Father Christmas? Complete with the white beard?”

You grin, “We are going to fight over your immortal soul,” you mimic Anselm’s accident teasingly as you repeat his words from earlier and Blue giggles. “So have you been Naughty or Nice this year?” 

“Hmm… A tough choice.” 

“I think no matter what you say Anselm is going to shove something inside you.”

Blue laughs, smiling as you pull back so you can stroke his cheeks. 

“He wanted to make a dildo out of coal, but that is not practical.” You wiggle your eyebrows. 

“Maybe I can sit on your lap?” He presses his face into your touch, “Or lay on it? You can spank me with your belt for being a bad boy.”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think. “I don’t know, that sounds like a reward, not punishment.”

He pouts a little, trying to cover up his smile. “And how would you punish me?” 

“Well, I’d leave you alone for one.”

“Nooo,” his grip on you involuntarily tightens. 

“Well,” you lean closer and give him a light kiss. “It’s a good job you’re on the nice list, isn’t it?”

Thank you so much for reading!

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