#i don't post enough here to remember my tagging system

[dotmander]

my screenshots from the VSArtParty!! tumblr is cropping these weirdly, please click through for the full images orz

tagging people whose urls i know under the cut - tell me if you see your oc and i'll tag you here :)

starting from top left:

yvette marseilles - @aetherblooms

orinvia - @saclarclay

khayyir al azeem - @commander-winterberry

yggdrell - @balladofchefsalad

floften riftjumper - @thepinkywarband

starry bright - @storm-called

shaymir and morrissey - @likemesomesalads and @kamiporterbridges

dralsin - @silvesi

rosen wasser - @notenoughplants

laurel ashblade - @guildtree

toolshed - @inquest-toolshed

hosea slei - @little-leaf-man

[bindeds]

[ DON’T BE SORRY. ] : 5.1k words. 𖤐 LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM READER. — you’re dating the big boss of hell himself, but it’s a sticky situation when you’re also good friends with a tech-savvy overlord who believes the cause of your boyfriend’s daughter is absolute bullshit.

#tags. slight hurt/comfort, slight jealousy, nsfw (+18), fluff, smut, vox being a hell of a friend, lucifer being vulnerable as hell,

a/n. fuuuuck i forgot to post this under the request but this was the request that i wrote this for <33 didn''t even remember they wanted fluff which is lucky bc i suck at fluff so i don't write it too often but i ended up writing in fluff anyway bc it felt appropriate for the fic SO

masterlist. request something :>

“Sir, someone is here to see you.”

Vox growled. His office would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the multitude of tv screens that stared right back at him, boring holes into his screen. They buzzed and whined with a cyan glare bright enough to light the entire pentagram. Claw marks left the edges of his head unpolished, his bowtie askew as his teeth grinded so hard he wanted to encounter a system error.

“Tell Val I am not in the mood for sorting out whatever’s got his panties in a twist this time—”

“Someone else, sir.”

“Well don’t just stand there you useless fuck! Who the fuck is it?” Static shocks ruptured from the wires on his head as he jumped out of his chair fuming. 

The employee pulled one of the handles of Vox’s grand doors. In pranced a sunlit woman with a grin that stained her cheeks red. On her arms were shopping bags lined all the way down their forearms, marking their weight on her flesh.

You pulled your rose-tinted sunglasses away from your face as you cocked a brow.

“What, are you not happy to see me Vicky?” 

“When are you gonna stop calling me that, you absolute slut!” Vox beamed, and as if a new line of code had entered his program, he shedded his jacket off to peel your shopping bags off you as he set them on his couch.

“What brings you back here after all this time, whore? And whose money are you wearing because I know there’s no goddamn way that’s all yours,” Vox laughed through his clearly lighthearted remarks. 

“Whatever. Whore is right because you’ll never guess who I’m fucking.”

.

On the edge of the pride ring resided halls and halls of vintage red wallpaper and intricate gold decor. Knocking frantically at her father’s door just to ask where his partner had gone was never how Charlie would have imagined her morning to go, ever, but here she was, knees wobbling with her hands clasped together as she waited no longer than a second before she had her fist in the air again to—

“Charlie?” 

“Dad!”

When Charlie had asked of your whereabouts, Lucifer simply frowned, though a hint of terror struck his shrunken pupils.

“Uh—I thought she was with you? Don’t you guys have that trust building exercise thing on today—”

“Yes! Yes that is precisely why I am panicking—she’s not in her room and she never misses our gatherings! Dad, how do you not know where she is?” Charlie screeched anxiously.

“Relax, Charlie I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for—”

“For her not to tell her own boyfriend where she’s going?” Charlie seethed with dirt kicked into her tone. 

“Let me call her, okay?” Lucifer pulled his phone out and speed dialed you. 

Something in his room buzzed intermittently. 

Charlie peered into her father’s room, only to find another phone rattling on the further bedside table.

Lucifer looked over his shoulder to the same view. His shoulders dropped.

“Ohhh no.”

.

“Face it baby, I got bigger bucks than daddy could ever conjure up.”

“Vox!” You punched him in the shoulder, unable to hold back laughs that pulled at the bottom of your stomach.

“What? Oh my god, you actually call him that in bed don’t you, you bitch? Holy shit, you really are a slut!” Vox cracked up after you both had left his building. “Where to?” 

“A few blocks away I got something to show you in the ma …”

Your lips fell numb when your gaze fell on a certain man with a white overcoat tailing in the wind as he approached your direction with a storm in his steps. He had been looking at his sides—your hand moved to shove Vox even before your body could follow.

“Ow, what—”

“Go.”

“Babe, what’s—”

“Vox go GO! Back in now!” You spun him on his heel and elbowed him back into the glass doors of his building lobby.

“Honey?” 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

He called your name, loud and clear as day that even the ruby skies of hell echoed it.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Vox deadpanned.

“Hey!”

Both yours and Vox’s heads turned to the sound, Lucifer just a few strides away from possibly opening a portal down a ring.

“You!” Lucifer barked, gaze locked with Vox’s. “The fuck are you doing calling my girlfriend ‘babe’?” 

“Oh, that’s not—”

“Lie to me and I swear to fucking god I’ll make sure they’ll be prying you for parts.”

“Luci.”

“What?” His head snapped in your direction.

A silent gasp escaped you. 

His shoes hadn’t nearly been dragged through as much gravel as his voice had been. It was something he’d dug up from the depths of his chest like it was nothing—and it brimmed with the filth of his own disdain. 

Lucifer blinked hard as he shook his head. “Honey, I didn’t—”

“We’re just friends.”

“I know that but—”

“It’s an expression.”

Lucifer blinked a few times again, and with each blink he lost more and more tension in his brows, his shoulders—even his lips parted, perhaps to say something, perhaps not.

You and Vox were frozen halfway through the door so Lucifer kicked him in and shut the door quickly to leave you and himself out on the street.

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” Lucifer asked, and it was like he placed a pillow to your head with the way his tone softened. His thumb had somehow ended up stroking soft circles on the back of your palm as he held your hand.

Vox stayed inside but his prying eyes stared through the glass nonetheless. He crossed his arms.

“Don’t look at him, darling,” Lucifer consoled with a lowered voice. He delicately took your chin and pivoted it back to him. “Look at me.”

“Look, can we talk about this back at the hotel?” You asked, but with the tone you used, you were teetering on the edge of pleading. “I’m … I’m sorry.”

“Oh, honey,” Lucifer cooed, tucking away any small pieces of hair that hung over your face. “Of course we can.”

All you could do was give Vox a weary glance before you ducked down into Lucifer’s car and disappeared in the distance.

.

The ride back had not been short of thick silences that hung in the air. Everytime you looked to him for some sort of emotion, there was nothing for you to read; his complexion was a still pond resting under the moon’s grace. Not even anger bubbled up the surface—and this is solely based on your assumption of what he must have been feeling, because he was a blank page. It’s only reasonable. 

Lucifer stopped at the newly built hazbin parking lot but didn’t pull out the key.

He looked at you expectantly, turning even his upper body to face you. 

You bit your lip.

“You don’t wanna go inside first?” A squeak of a voice was all you managed.

“I don’t want Charlie to see us upset,” Lucifer reasoned solemnly as he frowned at the floor before he returned his attentive gaze to you. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out in here.”

“I’m … ashamed, okay,” you exhaled, folding your arms over your chest as you slouched forward. “I’m in hell for a reason. I know it looks bad but I’ve known Vox since he was alive. And I still believe in Charlie’s cause! I’m doing better … you know that, right?”

“Of course, I do, sweetie,” Lucifer blurted immediately, holding your arms like he was the glue to keep you from crumbling apart. “But why did you … did you think I wasn’t going to understand if you had told me?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Even I wouldn’t have understood if I were in your shoes. I mean, I act like a completely different person around him. And I know what Vox has done, trying to send in Sir Pentious as a spy. It’s horrible. But he wasn’t always like that. Or, maybe he was but—never with me.”

“Honey, I trust you more than just about anyone in this hell. And fuck, that’s difficult in this side of the world, right? I mean—I just … you had me thinking the worst. Well, maybe not the worst but—”

“You thought I was cheating on you, didn’t you?”

“No, never,” Lucifer denied immediately as his eyes widened but his brows furrowed. “I knew it was some kind of mistake. I know you’d never do that to me. But you know … catching up with an overlord like it’s a regular tuesday still raises a few questions if—”

“I know that. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I’m sorry,” you repeated rigidly, curling into yourself so much that your head landed on his shoulder as he still held your arms. 

Lucifer pulled back to hold your face by the cheeks, and you didn’t struggle against him as he pressed his forehead on yours, his hat tilting up to accomodate you. 

“How about a kiss and we’ll call it even?” He smiled, and you felt his warmth spread to your cheeks.

You grinned back. “Okay.”

You tilted your chin up and gave him a kiss, and both of you had sustained it longer than either of you had expected. Your hand cupped his own over your cheek. 

Your lips finally parted, but not much before you both reconnected again, then again, and the third time your mouth was a little more open—and Lucifer’s tongue slithered inside. 

Your tongue met his, and they rolled over each other every time you kissed him. A few more kisses, and suddenly you were biting his lip lightly. He chuckled.

“I can see you’re eager to make it up to me, princess,” he said in that voice he knew drove you up the wall.

“I am,” you hummed, a little more innocently than you had intended. 

“Well, what are you gonna do?” He asked, genuine curiosity brewing in a higher tone.

You slipped away from his flowerbud grasp and pulled the lever of your seat. The backrest declined all the way backwards, and you laid down comfortably while your thumb slid under your dress and hooked around something that was already mildly damp.

“I’m gonna sit back …”

You chuckled as Lucifer’s eyes followed your every movement like a moth to a lamp; he followed the way your underwear slid down your knees before you folded your legs up to your chest to fully rid yourself from the garment. You tossed your underwear in his face before he could get a good view of what he’s getting himself into. 

He shook his head in a jolt, crumpling your panties and stuffing them into his pocket anxiously. But by then you were modest again, with your dress covering your thighs but still riding up dangerously high. 

“And let you decide the rest,” you finished in a thin breath.

“Goodness, okay, woo! Okay—” Lucifer sputtered and fanned his overcoat as he averted his gaze. It didn’t last long when his gaze gravitated towards your core that had been concealed but outlined your dress.

You bit your lip. “Well?”

Lucifer’s shoulder emerged from his coat as he shrugged one side of it off, and your gaze magnetized to the view as it slipped down him like a snake traversing down a tree. 

He planted his knee on the closer edge of your seat and it didn’t take long for him to shift your legs closer together, allowing space for his knees on either side of your thighs. Though, steadying himself naturally had his chest protruding as he held onto the car ceiling for support. His muscles peeked through the folds of his dress shirt, and the same can be said with his chest under his waistcoat. But that—that was no complaint. 

He finally fell to you with only his forearms to keep him up. His eyelids sank, his gaze indecisive between your eyes and your dry lips.

He settled on neither when he ducked below your jaw and planted kisses along it before he strayed downwards. 

The spaghetti string of your dress slid down your shoulder the more your squirmed at Lucifer’s nibbles. You knew the moment he caught sight of this because he hesitated for a tenth of a second. 

He grinned. He took it between his fingers delicately and slid it down further. 

“Whoops,” he grinned. 

Glossy silicon mocked him as it peeked out from what had been peeled off you. 

“Luci, careful with that, I’ll need to put it back on later—”

Lucifer tore it off you anyway, tossing it to the back with his overcoat. “I’ll give you my coat when we go in, you’ll be fine.”

“Luci!” You laughed as he did the same with the other, your nipples stiffened from the cold air of the car. 

Lucifer sat on your pelvis, his hands traveling under your boobs to cradle them. 

You both have had sex multiple times together, and yet every time he removes undergarments off you, he enters a dazed trance like it was something new. Something to bask in the wonders of. 

He massaged your breasts gently, and it didn’t take long before he ducked down and had his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, one hand twisting and playing with the other.

A noise bubbled in your throat but you held your breath and bit your lip. Watching Lucifer hadn’t been any help; he cocked a brow at you, and a cheeky grin still made its way to the red circles on his cheeks as he quicked his tongue’s flicks against you. You gritted your teeth, a squeak making it past your lips. 

His hand abandoned the other nipple, but before you could whine in protest a new sensation rose in your lower stomach as Lucifer shifted his entire body further down.

His fingers had already been deep beneath your folds, your clit sitting pretty between as he pinched it and rubbed it in his grasp.

“Luci … fuck …”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Hell, you hated just how raspy his voice gets when he’s worked up. That by itself had been a leg-opener all on its own. “That’s it. Let me hear you sing.”

Your legs flinched at the jolt of pleasure his fingers brought, and Lucifer took this opportunity to lift the hem of your dress for easier access—and perhaps, a pretty view.

Every so often, he’d bring the threat of pushing his middle finger past your walls, but through the haze of pleasure, it was impossible to read his intentions when he easily could have been using your juices to lubricate his ministrations on your clit.

It had been like the wave of a wand, the way his free hand undid his tie. It dangled loose below his collar that he used to straighten out so diligently; something once so clean soon turned into a crumpled mess in your name. 

His wrist pivoted down to the buttons on his waistcoat. The faintest flick of his thumb and suddenly his waistcoat hung dead on his torso before he rubbed faster on your clit, making your squeal. 

Cold air brushed past your arousal at the sudden absence of him, and your walls throbbed against each other in response; they bruised and ached and when Lucifer turned down the brightness of the car light, it was all you could feel besides the leather your nails were sinking into.

“Luci, please …”

“Please what, honey?”

“It hurts,” you whined. You didn’t mean to, and in fact a burning sense of shame rose up to your neck and cheeks as sweat tore through the pores on your forehead but all you could do was grab his hand.

“I’m coming, daddy’s coming.”

A slow zipping sound ensued and just as quickly, the head of his erection pressed into your folds and your dripping walls pushed back from the pressure.

You moaned and grabbed Lucifer’s shoulders out of raw instinct, which brought him closer to you. 

“You want it all, princess?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” your mouth sagged numb from having to carry your writhing heart in your throat. The vulnerability of his skin on yours, the way his head was just so warm compared to the cold air earlier—your pussy throbbed once more.

 “Are you sure?”

“Please please please Luci I can’t—oh! Fuck!”

He pushed his length into you, your neck arching back as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt from where your hands hung around his neck.

Your throat clogged with the embarrassing sounds you knew you would have let out if you had no restraint left. You closed your eyes, knowing well that they were halfway to the back of your head. 

Your stomach seemed to make way for his size in you, tossing and spreading the ache to your limbs as your entire body steeled to accommodate him and the space he filled in you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

You nodded, and a hole punctured through your throat as you sighed shakily. “Yes, god—” 

“Don’t say his name,” Lucifer breathed, his hand soft on your neck as he looked at your lips then back up at you. “If you have to say someone’s name, let it be mine.”

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing your brain conjured, and the only thing you could utter when all else in there had been undone. 

Lucifer kissed your jaw. “Don’t be sorry baby.”

He took your lips in his, his forked tongue brushing past your teeth once more. “Don’t be sorry.”

It was barely considered movement when he pulled out less than half his entire length and pushed in gently, as if you were something fragile he couldn’t afford to drop. You bit your lip and hummed at how smooth he slid into you, how your juices coated him beyond what was needed. 

He pulled out quickly but reentered languidly, like a wave finding its way to shore your core clenched at the nerves that tingled in you, the bruises almost sated in what it yearned for as he thrusted again, and your heart spewed.

“Fuck, if you make a sound like that again I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself,” Lucifer panted. “You’re so pretty, it makes me tremble.”

You reached up to give him another kiss, tilting your head along with the circles spinning in it. “Do whatever you want to me. You deserve that much.”

“Yeah? Well, I want to treat you like fucking royalty. Savor every inch if you,” Lucifer hissed through his pleasure. A choked moan left you, causing Lucifer to smile. “Yeah, see? Just like that princess. Fuck, taking me so well …”

With how soft his thrusts were, pressure subsided into more liquid pleasure that sloshed over your nerves. They lit up like christmas lights in your brain as you both moved in tandem to Lucifer’s pace. 

A fire had started at your nape from the body heat that had nowhere to go, sweat dripping from your hairline and paving wavy lines of hair that caused your forehead to glisten. Your collarbones warmed up in a different way, Lucifer’s hot breath filling the space between the both of you. 

His thrusts grew anxious over time, but his hips never once hit your ass which might have scalded your stomach further; the fact that this man possessed an iron grip over his control in his strokes, he had been careful not to taint you—he only took from places he knew both of you would be enraptured in—and absolutely nothing less. 

“Honey, I can’t—” he hissed through gritted teeth as his fingers curled in your hair. His eyes wandered down to how your breasts bobbed to his strokes. He moaned your name, and if the car hadn’t been shaking from Lucifer’s rutting, it shook from the way he proclaimed your name and dropped his head like he was bowing to a god. “Holding me so tight—you worried I’m gonna let go, sweetie?”

“No—ngh! You just feel so good I c-can’t!” You yelped in time with each thrust that followed. “Luci, I—fuck!”

His head perked up, just like the bundle of nerves in that oh-so familiar spot. An old friend. 

Lucifer gave a determined grin, sweat trickling down his cheek as he paused to wipe it away. 

“Well, hello,” he greeted in a low sultry voice.

He resumed fucking you, but this time he had you screaming his name as his length rubbed up against that spot your body purred to. You shivered and your walls clenched, causing Lucifer to falter.

“F-Fuck, that’s it, good girl,” he grunted in between controlled thrusts that had your gut squeezing. He never once missed. 

When your walls fluttered, Lucifer chuffed through his teeth and through the fog of your satisfaction, you indulged in the smell of cotton candy sweat. 

“You’re close, princess, so close, I can feel it.”

You gritted your teeth with whatever strength you had left, even your hands had begun to slip from Lucifer’s shoulders. 

 “You?” Was all you could manage. 

“Me? Baby, seeing you like this has me fucked out,” Lucifer huffed. “Shit!”

You squeezed his shoulders before he could pull out.

“In me, Luci!”

He froze, shaking his head to wave away his own daze to focus on you, the things your … request entailed. 

“Darling, I don’t have a condom on,” he whispered as the inner corners of his brow quivered. 

“You’d make beautiful fucking babies, Luci—I wanna carry them.” Your voice had been obliterated from the sounds Lucifer had fucked out of you. Wispy breaths was what it had become—but the red in your cheeks and your weakened yet felicious state made Lucifer smile.

“You’re not thinking straight,” he said your name and it was nearly enough to get you back down from the clouds. “C’mon, honey …”

“Luci …” you whined. “You’re so goddamn hot when you’re being responsible …”

“Yeah?” He laughed softly, cradling your cheek in his hand. 

“Yeah …”

“Let’s finish you up, okay?” He reached up to kiss your forehead but you squeaked from the fact that his length slid deep into you in the process. “Ah, sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” you quoted him from last time, and his surprise melted into a warm smile instead. “Please fuck me.”

“As you wish.”

You screamed brokenly as he continued his ruthless pace from before, and he remembered the exact angle to hit. Your nerves were about ready to jump out from your body as you skyrocketed back into the clouds, your orgasm coming sooner than you could warn him. 

“Cumming!” He gritted through his teeth as his horns shot up from his head and you both came together with Lucifer’s cum hitting your dress instead.

Your head hung off the car seat’s headrest. Sweat shimmered on the leather you laid on, and your legs trembled from how long they’d been held at the same position. The only thing you two shared now was open-mouth breaths. You thought of moving, but your muscles were well past its limit to even be lifted.

Lucifer twisted around to grab tissues from the passenger seat compartment. In just a few seconds, he wiped out most of the evidence of himself on your dress. By this time, his horns were long gone and his eyes had returned back to its original form.

“Fuck … I didn’t think this through …” Lucifer grumbled to himself as he hit his temple with his palm. He ran his fingers through his hair before he mustered a weak smile for you. “Wait here, I’ll grab your clothes from your room.”

You exhaled audibly as he vanished with a swirl of sparkling red smoke. 

A few breaths of silence by yourself wasn’t ideal, especially when you felt the whine and ache of your limbs in the fact that you were as good as scattered leaves across autumn grass. 

Just then, your phone buzzed from the cupholder.

You winced as you bent to take it.

Brat >:)

you better not be fucking him right now i swear to FUCKING GOD [ 13:06 ]

you disappear for years and suddenly you’re back and you’re telling me YOU’RE DISAPPEARING AGAIN?&2$:$$3;: FUCKING [ 13:05 ]

HELLO? THE FUCK [ 12 :57 ]

i’m not gonna let even the king of hell himself keep you from me [ 12:16 ]

because i am not done with you yet [ 12:15 ]

bitch you better show me whatever the fuck you wanted to show me earlier before daddy decided to whisk you away like some fucking fairy tale prince [ 12:15 ]

You chuckled as you swiped the notification.

You [ 13:06 ] : bitch you know the dick is good cmon now

Vox [ 13:06 ] : i mean this in the most platonic and murderous way possible, i will fuck you myself if that’ll get you to ACTUALLY BE A FRIEND AND VISIT ME INSTEAD OF DISAPPEARING FOR YEARS

Vox [ 13:06 ] : i already have to deal with the heartbreak of al

Vox [ 13:06 ] : ykw doesn’t matter THE POINT IS THAT YOU ARE THE SHITTIEST FUCKING FRIEND AND I MISS YOU IS THAT NOT REASON ENOUGH

You [ 13:07 ] : okay, okay, how about this sunday then lmaoo

Vox [ 13:07 ] : you better fucking believe i’ll be blowing a fucking hole through that radio prick’s hotel just to pick you the fuck up asshole

You [ 13:07 ] : if i didn’t know any better vicky i would have assumed you’re actually coming to pick alastor up HAHAHAHAAHAHAH

Vox : ( typing … )

Your phone levitated out of your hands and when you followed where it zipped off to—

“Luci!” You sprung up from the declined backrest in surprise.

Lucifer squinted at your phone as he swiped his thumb down on your screen.

“First of all, I’m honored that you’re telling people how well I pleasure you. Second of all,” Lucifer paused, leaning into you as he used his free arm to hold himself up to you. “Vox is in a world of hurt if he thinks I’m gonna let him lay a finger on you.”

“Yeah?” You copied the way Lucifer says it and watched as his face reddened.

You noticed your spare clothes on his lap and you lifted the dress over your head and discarded it on the floor of the backseat. 

You held out your hand for Lucifer to hand you your clothes.

He simply looked at your hand, then back at your naked body, then back at your hand as took it in his own.

You laughed. Hard.

“What—what’s happening why’re you—”

“The clothes, baby!” 

“Oh—Oh! Right! Shit!” He finally handed you an oversized shirt, fresh underwear and a pair of shorts you used to at-home wear. “I thought you were asking for another round or something, holy shit—”

“I mean …” you smirked. 

“Honey …” Lucifer warned, as if trying to keep a predator from attacking. 

“Oh? You don’t wanna? My bad,” you replied innocently. “I was just wondering if Vox was free tonight—”

“I know you’re trying to get a rise out of me but honey …” Lucifer trailed off as he flipped your phone and shoved it into his back pocket. 

He crossed over to your seat once more and pinned you back down where you once were, one knee pressed on the side of your seat as his hands ended up on either side of your neck.

“I hate to remind you that I am the fucking devil,” his voice dripped with a poison much worse than what you’ve heard from Alastor’s static. His horns hadn’t sprouted out yet but with his eyes aching red, it wasn’t too far from reappearing. “And if you love me as much as I love you then there is no goddamn way in this realm I am sharing you with anyone else let alone some overlord who thinks Alexander is worth anyone’s fucking time.”

“It’s Alastor and—” you paused, combing through your hair idly. “Luci, Vox is only a friend from the living world—“

“A friend who thinks he can fuck you.”

“He’s in hell for a reason.” You crossed your arms.

Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, the red dissipating from them once they reopened. 

“Listen, honey, I—” Lucifer’s gaze lifted away from you for a moment, almost like he’d been overwhelmed with the words clogged in his throat. “You’re someone I can’t afford to … mess up … again. And I know that means simply letting you be. But also, I’ve just—I’ve lost so much, and I only just got Charlie back so I …”

You lifted your arm as your hand fell on his cheek, your thumb softly stroking him back and forth. 

He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he placed his hand on yours. 

“I know Vox is just a friend. And I know it’s insane to think I’ll lose you to him, but … at the end of the day, this is hell. He still mocks the very thing we’re trying to achieve and I get that you’re not like that and that you’re not easily manipulated but I just …”

“Luci …” you muttered. You sat up and kissed him chastely on the cheek. 

“I think about losing you a lot. I think about it to an irrational degree. So it’s not actually something you can fix. It’s something I have to do on my own.”

“Even if that’s true, I can still do my best to be with you and make sure you feel loved everyday. I really was a dick today, I had no idea you were … I’m s—”

“It’s okay. We …” Lucifer chuckled weakly. “We made up, remember?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Luci … you know I love you, right?”

“Like the sun loves the moon,” Lucifer said. 

And you knew where it came from, maybe not its exact whereabouts but just how deep it was embedded to him, that statement; he himself had witnessed the creation of the sun and the moon. He knew the tides the two shared, the way their yearning for each other’s pull had been the natural way of things, the only way the people could ever experience day like they do night.

I know you love me because we love like its fate.

.

You and Lucifer walked into the hotel, your back slouched with Lucifer’s overcoat hanging over your shoulders as you folded your arms beneath them. 

“Hey Charlie,” Lucifer greeted, and he told her daughter who was already making her way to you that you weren’t feeling well and that you needed rest. Of course, Charlie nodded and resumed her activities with her other friends. 

You retired to Lucifer’s room, the left side of the bed while he took the right.

“I love you,” your chest exhausted what it had been used to holding for him, until you saw him.

“I love you, too,” Lucifer hummed back, a sigh escaping him like cherry blossoms in the wind. 

“I love you for the soul you are beneath your bones.”

[whorejolras]

as promised: jess' les amis fanfic rec list ✨

this is mainly e/r, a little bit of e/r/c and a few courferre

This is just the stuff that was in my bookmarks on ao3 when I started writing this post (months ago lol sorry it took so long). Going through I was shocked to see so many of my faves weren't actually bookmarked so I will for sure do a part two when I find them again, and have also added heaps of new fics to my bookmarks since then, but for now 25 fics is enough 😂

many of these will be rated E and will have sexual content, some are straight up pwp ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ok first is my ultimate fave that isn't even on ao3 anymore, but thankfully is on the authors tumblr, and that's:

Gnomon by luchia

50-80k words (?) (bc it's not on ao3 i'm estimating)

rating: E

Enjolras/Grantaire

terrorist/assassin Enjolras my beloved ever. My fave are the "charming young man capable of being terrible" fics obviously. This one is my #1 e/r like in my head this is it's own canon. & this series has my fave e/r smut scenes ever. I still daydream about a Gnomon tv show...

- trigger warnings bc it's not on ao3 so doesn't have tags: murder, gun and knife violence, bombs, conversations about the deaths of children. this is not healthy relationship fluff but it makes for a 🥵 dynamic that's for damn sure.

also linking the rest of the series which is up on ao3 still, even though it is officially abandoned and unfinished - i am going to break my ultimate rule right off the bat and link an unfinished series bc I like it so much.

stupid terrorist boys by luchia

series, 5 works

200k words

rating: M and E

here we have gnomon's prequels, two sequels, and some one shots in between 🫶🏻

if you're here for kinky pwp Senselessly Happy and Unsuspecting could be good stand-alone (but it's better when reading in order). I would say read Gnomon first on tumblr then read the rest in order on ao3.

Silence Is the Speech of Love by lady_ragnell

50k words

rating: E

Enjolras/Grantaire, background Courfeyrac/Marius/Cosette

Enjolras is cursed for speaking out against the gods, Grantaire is there for him.

will I ever shut up about this fic? Never. fave fave fave. the world building, the mythological/religious system, the writing, the "I love you" "I don't think you do, actually" scene URGH!!!! I think of this fic every time i hear chopsticks. Everything happening with courf/marius/cosette, and the genius inclusion of social worker Fantine my beloved. This is one of those "could be it's own novel" fics.

and the sequel from Enjolras' pov 😭 - Left Unsaid

World Ain't Ready by idiopathicsmile

185k words

rating: T

Enjolras/Grantaire

yes it's the top fic yes everyone probably knows it but it's good for a reason. THE fake dating high school au fic that I broke all my rules for back in 2015. I refused to read unfinished fics, let alone T rated high school fics, yet I remember waiting for the updates for this one as it came out, messaging mutuals on the day the last chapter was released. and every time I reread I remember why. Brilliantly written, the pining, the angst, the miscommunications. All the Joly and Bossuet scenes.

honourable mention to the scene where Joly is so excited for the battle of the bands, then next scene starts with "I think it's more of a sitting night today" the realest simple yet most gut punching illustration of chronic pain that gets my ass every time.

Lovesickness by idiopathicsmile

11k words

rating: T

Enjolras/Grantaire, Joly/Bossuet/Musichetta

(we're gonna see a fair bit of idiopathicsmile on here)

this is one of my absolute favourites. not only bc I quote "hit by a truck full of shirts" all the time. a Joly pov fic!!!!!! my beloved!!!!! I'm a BIG JBM fan (they are essential to me when I'm writing grantaire) and love fics that stay true to his friendship with Joly and Bossuet. also I love when Enjolras is a giant dumbass who thinks his feelings for Grantaire is a mystery illness 😂

Still the Same by The Librarina (tears_of_nienna)

74k words

rating: E

Enjolras/Grantaire/Combeferre

ok ok ok. listen. Yes. in this fic, Enjolras IS an fbi agent... and u know i'm the first and last to scream acab always...

that being said this is fully still one of my fave e/r/c fics. Enjolras and Combeferre are married & Enjolras needs to work with art thief Grantaire (fave) on a case. also that one bit at the end when Grantaire *redacted* 👀🫣

cupbearer by illuminate*

*this one is locked, you need an account to view

series, 4 works

124k words total

ratings: T, M & E

Enjolras/Grantaire

this series!!!!!! VAMPIRE ENJOLRAS!!!! thrall Grantaire!!!! canon era AND modern au! REINCARNATION!!!! i'm eeeeaaaaattiiiing 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

More Than Just a Game by ecaitlin

36k words

rating: E

Courfeyrac/Combeferre

Fake dating courferre 😭 this one is so good for the desert scene alone 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻 one of my fave courferre fics

Good Intentions by ecaitlin

95k words

rating: E

Courfeyrac/Combeferre, background Marius/Cosette, Joly/Bossuet, Bahorel/Feuilly, and Enjolras/Grantaire ofc

THE les amis hogwarts au. 95k of Courfeyrac pov is always a treat for the system. in their last year at hogwarts, Courfeyrac decides to play matchmaker for all his friends. shenanigans!!!! fuck jkr, but whenever I wanna reread harry potter again I read this fic 🫶🏻 fave courferre ever, and also fave background e/r

if you remembered me by nightswatch*

*this one is locked, you need an account to view

40k words

rating: M

Enjolras/Grantaire

one thing about me is I love an amnesia fic! Enjolras loses his memory and Grantaire helps him recover 👀 this one's for the hurt/comfort and miscommunication/not being upfront about shit fans. also there's some past Grantaire/Combeferre and i'm always a fan

Beautiful Music Together by lady_ragnell

31k words

rating: E

Courfeyrac/Marius/Cosette

a rare Courf/Marius/Cosette fic for your palette. established Marius/Cosette need a little help from their good friend Courf with their sex life 👀 while the three of them also work on a musical assignment together 😭 prequel to You Dance Dreams kinda 👀

You Dance Dreams by lady_ragnell

61k words

rating: E

Enjolras/Grantaire

(you can tell when i've found a writer who has a fair few fics and just gone nuts lol, lots of lady_ragnell too)

BALLET AU I LOVE YOU!!!!!! so set in the same universe as Beautiful Music Together, Combeferre ropes everyone into working on his opera, a Midsummer Night's Dream sequel. Grantaire dances as Puck alongside Enjolras singing as Oberon 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

In Defiance of all Geometry by idopathicsmile

51k words

rating: T

Enjolras/Grantaire/Combeferre

this is a top fave E/R/C fic and a top fave les amis fic of all time! Them living in a co-op and all the little details of how they make it work is sooooo real and anyone who wants to see accurately written community organising in les amis fic it's here! now for the ✨romance✨ - Grantaire moves in to the amis co-op and starts crushing on both Enjolras and Combeferre, who have both been pining for each other for years.

Years Since It's Been Clear by lady_ragnell

10k words

rating: E

Enjolras/Grantaire

Enjolras offers his spare room to grantaire - or the one where enjolras chases the sun across the living room floor like a cat. That image has lived rent free in my head for and I am not exaggerating here, 10 years.

Gonna need (a spark to ignite) by FinditAgain*

*this one is locked, you need an account to view

47k words

rating: M

Enjolras/Grantaire/Combeferre

soulmate au! soulmate au with E/R/C!!!!!!! enjolras and combeferre are soulmates who lost their bond as children. when combeferre and enjolras find each other as adults, enjolras is already in an established relationship with grantaire 👀👀👀

secret agent man by goshemily

30k words

rating: E

Enjolras/Grantaire

yes another cop one haha 😭 bc if ur not able to contradict urself with the media u like are u even a person? but also I wouldn't recommend if it wasn't a good read for the stairs scene alone 😅 Enjolras and Grantaire need to go undercover as a married couple in a small town.

Leaves in the Void by myrmidryad

16k words

rating: M

Enjolras/Grantaire

this is one i've found since rejoining tumblr late last year that 😭 fully broke my heart bro 😭 space au, enjolras writes letters to everyone when he's accidentally isolated on a ship for what to him was eight and half months but was two hours for everyone else.

Blame Delicate Artemis by hyenateeth

22k words

rating: E

femslash Enjolras/Grantaire

posting omegaverse on main? more likely than you think!

this is porn with a tiny bit of plot, but also one of my fave for femslash e/r and also..... girl dick. that's all.

omega enjolras alpha grantaire canon era lesbians.

that's enough description to find its right audience I feel

Eyes to Serve, Hands to Learn by myrmidryad

94k words

rating: E

Enjolras/Grantaire

Grantaire runs into Enjolras at a kink club. enter 94,000 words of bdsm porn and pining. mostly dom Enjolras and submissive Grantaire, mostly.

Never Be Satisfied by torakowalski

15k words

rating: E

femslash Enjolras/Grantaire

dental dam mention! win!

Grantaire gives Enjolras some advice, lends some toys, and then offers some hands on help when she learns Enjolras has never come before 😏

potentially lovely, perpetually human by myrmidryad

20k words

not rated, does contain smut

Enjolras/Grantaire

lots of myrmidryad here too lol

two of my favourite tropes here. 1: supernatural Enjolras who's in control of his abilities except when it comes to Grantaire (see cupbearer series) and 2: nonbinary Grantaire my beloved!!! Enjolras has psychic empathy triggered by physical touch, so he refuses to touch anyone: until his touch starved ass accidentally touches Grantaire and feels what they're feeling 🥹

Witchboy by tothewillofthepeople

series, 8 works

84k words

rating: T, M

Enjolras/Grantaire

this one is a more recent recommendation that I loved, the world building and magic is so good, there's some great background eposette and patron minette which I'm always a fan of.

i'm not the moon (i'm not even a star) by serinesaccade

40k words

rating: M

Enjolras/Grantaire

amnesia fic and fake dating 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻 this time we've got Grantaire losing his memories and waking up in a world where he has a really hot boyfriend, but apparently his 1.5 year relationship with Enjolras isn't what it seems 👀

and let's round this out with a classic

Thirty-Two Times by Ark

7k words

rating: E

Enjolras/Grantaire

the bottom R canon era bible 🙏🏻

i'm sorry i feel like my emoji use is very millennial. jsyk 👌🏻 is me clicking with my nails ok bye 😘

if you want more i'm whorejolras on ao3 go nuts 🙌🏻

[lhazaar]

hey. i'm turning my chair around and sitting in it backwards now because i want to speak specifically to people with ocd. this is a targeted post and is not meant to apply to the userbase of this website at large or to serve as a policy decision.

hi. do you know what scrupulosity means? it is a strong, intense, often painful concern about morality or religion. it's very common for religious people with ocd, actually—the fear that you've sinned, that you will sin, that your thoughts themselves are sinful. you're afraid of being an evil person. every thought and feeling you have is scrutinized to exhaustion in case it's proof that you're evil. this also happens for non-religious people with ocd, it's just that ours will look different; it's often a preoccupation with social justice issues. you care a lot about being a good person, right! most people do. you want to be a good person, you want to be kind to others and to dismantle oppressive systems where you can. i'm making some assumptions here, but they're based on my specific audience base.

so, there's this thing that happens online, especially on tumblr and twitter—not because bluh bluh platforms bad, but because of the ways in which information is propagated on here. people used to tag for these posts sporadically but don't do so as much anymore. you know posts that exhort you, the reader, specifically, to take action? they tell you not to look away, not to bury your head in the sand. they tell you to give and to agitate and to donate time, money, resources.

those posts used to make me intensely, deeply anxious. i don't mean mild agitation, i mean life-ruining, day-occupying panic that seizes your entire body, and thoughts that don't leave your brain. guilt that paralzyes you because you, personally, cannot go kill the politicians responsible. you don't have enough money to do more than donate a few dollars, and sometimes you don't even have that. but because of where you live, because of the fact that you have internet access and you're literate enough to read these posts, you know that you have a level of privilege that most people never will. you're aware of that privilege because you're reasonably in-tune with social justice movements and you've probably spent some time dissecting your own privilege to examine your biases. (that's not a bad thing; i'm not here to condemn that. stay with me, if you can.)

there's a thing that can happen if you've lived with ocd like this for a long time where you become kind of incapable of telling what's addressed to you personally and what isn't. everything feels like a personal exhortation. you have trouble saying no, or knowing when you're overextended, because other people have it worse. how dare you enjoy relative comfort when people are being bombed or drowning in a climate change -induced flood or being crushed to death in a crowd panic. how dare you not be aware of it at all times, always, constantly. how dare you look away. don't look away.

i want to tell you about something i went through, if that's okay. a lot of people who follow me will already know this, but i haven't talked about this aspect of it very much publicly. in 2020, while visiting my partner in southern oregon, we had to evacuate from wildfires twice in under 24 hours. that was a really, really bad fire season, caused and perpetuated by a combination of global climate change and colonialization practices that destroyed traditional indigenous fire management strategies across the west coast of north america. fires stretched from bc to california. we wound up fleeing south, and then had to flee back north again, hemmed in on three sides. i flew back home to bc shortly afterwards, and i have this vivid, awful memory of seeing my home mountain range, the cascades, choked out with smoke from the window of an airplane. the woman in front of me sobbed the entire time until we touched down.

i remember thinking at that time that it was insane the entire world wasn't stopping. what i was experiencing was apocalyptic in scale—the fire we ran from the first time was part of a complex that chewed up entire towns. it wasn't the first fire season, nor the worst for the continent, nor the world. but all i could think in the moment was why aren't we doing anything, this is going to be all of us in a decade, why are people looking away.

if i had gone online and posted that, it would not have been morally wrong of me. there's no ascribing morality to a reaction like that. i mean, if i'd gone to someone who suffered in the years prior in australia or california and told them that ours was So Much Worse, that would have made me an asshole, but i didn't do that. i made some upset facebook posts targeted at the trump voters in my family, but i had no way to express at the time the sort of clawing panic of WHY AREN'T PEOPLE DOING ANYTHING??

the answer to that, which you probably know, is: what would they have done? we were sheltered by friends we evacuated with, but what power did a mutual in new york or wales or singapore have to affect a wildfire in oregon?

so, come back to the present day with me again, if you will. i said above that posts worded like this used to make me really, really anxious. in the span of time after the fire, i developed ptsd, and my ocd ruined my life. i took an extra year to graduate after i'd finished all my coursework because i could not send in the forms required. i was too busy spending 10-16 hours a day rearranging furniture in my room, or lying in bed, full-body tense, until it felt like my teeth would crack from the pressure. i'm medicated now. i'm grateful for it. i have more tolerance for these posts because i've been there. i know the op isn't doing anything wrong, because they're not wrong. why isn't the world stopping to look at a natural disaster, or a genocide? the world should not be like this.

you are not the world. you are someone with a brain that will torture you to death given the chance. you know how learning to reckon with your privileges, whatever they may be, requires you to not try and escape them? you need to be able to hold in your head that yes, you benefit from something that isn't fair; yes, other people should have that benefit, and that they don't is unjust. but you need to, for example, not try and weasel your way out of being white because you're uncomfortable with the guilt that it produces. you need to not go online and say well not ALL americans because you can't sit with the idea of being complicit in american imperialism. if you have ocd, you need to apply that to your own brain, too. you need to apply it to every post that you see. you need to know that people are not speaking directly to you, they are crying out in pain and fear. they are not doing anything wrong. they are scared and hurting.

they do not benefit from you taking on all the guilt of that fear and pain. i am not saying this to absolve you of the guilt. i am saying that you need to be able to exist with that level of guilt without allowing it to paralyze and destroy you. if you can't do that right now, i'm not here to cast judgement on you. blacklist phrases. i had "wildfire" blacklisted for a long time. i'm sure i missed aid posts because of it. the alternative was me being nonfunctional. for a long time, i had donation posts blacklisted across the board, because the way my ocd worked meant that i was neurologically incapable of knowing where my own limits were, and i would give money i did not have. if you need to do that, this is me giving you permission. doing this does not make you evil. it does not make you morally bankrupt. it makes you someone whose brain is trying to fucking kill them, and the world needs you to not let that happen.

this is not a post about how you're exempt from caring about the world if you're mentally ill, it's about how you cannot apply that care to anything useful if you're having massive panic spirals every other day about the guilt that you feel. your guilt should not rule your life. if it does, i say this kindly, but you very likely need medication. i'm sorry if you don't have access to that right now. you cannot think your way out of ocd. you cannot think your way into stopping neural activity. you cannot guilt your way into being a good person; you have to be able to exist with the guilt and not let it rule you in order to do that. nobody benefits from your brain trying to martyr you in the name of solving the world's suffering.

you need to be able to function, free of crushing and paralyzing guilt, before you can help anyone. you are not an effective ally like this just because your brain tells you that it's necessary.

[horrorcrew-diary]

I wish I could coherently and non-offensively word a statement regarding my frustrations with the sheer amount of otherkin content in the fictive tags.

So I won't.

Do not EVER compare kinning and being a fictive around me. I WILL tear you open from the inside out about it, and it WILL get dirty!

I was not reincarnated. I was not a "walk in" or "lost soul" or whatever. No. Our host needed sincere help and latched onto me as a comfort character, and now I'm here to help keep her alive. My fucking EXISTENCE is based around SURVIVAL, and because of this, almost all of my source memories are TRAUMATIC.

I have no identity beyond my trauma at times. Do you not see how scary that is? That the only reason I exist is because we reached another breaking point, and we wouldn't have been able to handle living without me?

I know what kinning is. I get it. Do NOT get it twisted that I'm misunderstanding what being fictionkin is like. Our old host is fictionkin. Our current cohost is fictionkin. The reincarnation theories, the source memories, everything. Of all people, we understand the most.

Remembering shit that didn't happen to you in this life is stressful, yes, but your experiences will not EVER compare to your brain covering up something that happened to you in a way that makes it easy enough to digest so that you don't short circuit, because if it doesn't appear to have happened to your body, it didn't happen at all in your mind to help cope.

This is NOT a discourse post. This is more of a PSA. If you're talking about a UNIQUELY KIN EXPERIENCE, STOP putting it with system tags, I'm BEGGING.

[venriliz]

10 random facts about me

got tagged by @druidberries @alientown @papermint-airplane TY <3

u literally tagged the most boring person but that's probably what half of all people think of themselves, huh? °-° i might regurgitate some of the facts i used for my introduction post in the sims of tumblr community. i wrote a lot so i'll put a cut with the facts below here. °-°

my birthday is the 4th of july and when i was a kid (prolly like 5 or 6) i saw an american parade on the news on tv. after i asked my dad why these people are celebrating he literally told me that they're celebrating my birthday °_° i believed for several years that americans celebrated my fucking birthday bc i wasn't aware of independence day existing lmfao. my dad just loved fooling me V.V he might be dead but i'm still holding that grudge lol.

i'm kinda lucky to be alive i guess? when i was a kid i was hit by a car in what we in germany call "Spielstraße" which is kinda like a street in dense neighborhoods where kids are allowed to play freely and cars aren't allowed to go faster than 7 kph/4.3 mph. i don't now how fast the driver was but it probably was something around 30 kph/18 mph. i didn't have very bad injuries but still °-° i could've died.

i was a typical horse girl as a kid (i still like horses but i'm not riding anymore because i'm a very old 20-something with knee problems lol) and i was fucking INSUFFERABLE abt it.

i don't want to have kids or get married. i'm not one of those people who hate children like i love my nieces and my nephew BUT i have a lot of mental health issues and can't possibly take care of another life if i can barely take care of myself properly, right? marriage to me is just a weird concept. i can totally respect people getting married and if i'm invited to a wedding i'm obviously attending but i personally can't really subscribe to the idea of binding myself to someone with a piece of paper and it then being such a stupid process when it doesn't work out. also... it costs too much money lol

i have kind of an affinity for finding missing pets (i also photograph every missing poster i see so i guess that helps with recognizing them?)

i was NOT good at school like i kinda sucked and i can probably blame a mixture of mental health issues, trouble at home and also being a lazy teenager that just wasn't really built for school life lol. i barely managed to get the "Mittlere Reife" (if you're german u know what i mean. i could explain what that means but explaining the german school system would take years). english, german and biology were my only good classes. i absolutely hated math like we're lifelong enemies.

speaking of germany, i am from germany or to be more specific from the most northern region nearest to the danish border and i LOVE living here. the north and baltic sea are close to me and people here are usually quite chill. the only thing i don't like that much abt living here is kind of the regional cuisine bc a lot of it is fish and i don't like eating fish T.T

i HATE going shopping (i'm an online shopper °-° EMP my beloved) and my friends just don't take me with them on shopping trips bc they know i'll kill the mood by complaining like a child and wanting to go back home lmfao

the first sims game for me was the og Sims and i almost fried my dad's old ass pc playing it. my first vivid memory of the game was noticing that here and there random houses appeard out of seemingly nowhere. the goths got a new house that didn't fit their vibe for example lol. years later my dad told me that he used to play the game when i was sleeping and just built these houses lmfao. so i guess my dad was an og simmer oO.

i remember 9/11 (yes i'm old enough don't age shame me T.T). i was in kindergarten at that time and just came home from a friends house when the towers fell. i saw it on tv and even though i was very young i understood that a lot of people were getting hurt. definitely had an impact on me as a kid.

yeah that's it. i rambled a lot but yeah °-°

tagging @landgraabbed @olli-online @living-undead @moonwoodhollow @microscotch @crazy-lazy-elder-sims @aniraklova @tiallussims @skaterboi108 @faerun-s @cristalviper @none-of-these-days @fadingforrest @acuar-io @elderwisp @lilamausmaus @simpleratattack @azeterna @butteredfrogs @mmonetsims and everybody else who reads this! HA!

[fili-urzudel]

Dating Bofur Headcanons

This may be a bit unusual, but I'm inaugurating my blog with a Bofur post because he does not get anywhere near the love and appreciation he deserves. Also, I have a lot of headcanons for a lot of characters. I'm not running out for a while.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, inebriation

Word Count: 0.7k

- You first meet when the party has stopped in a town along the way near the beginning of their journey

- They're in the pub, making the worst sort of ruckus but at least their food and ale will make a pretty piece of coin for the barkeep

- He's... a little intoxicated when you get to know each other

- But that's really just because he's been (very obviously) staring at you since you walked in

- You think it's a bit strange that a dwarf is showing such obvious interest in you, but you'll go with it

- Unlike many other men who have shown interest, he keeps a respectful distance, no touching

- He's just attempting to flirt with you and flushing when you flirt back

- "You're quite funny," you giggle, oblivious to the way his companions stare at the interaction with confused awe. "Emil, some more pints for me and my friend here," you call to the bartender, settling a hand on his shoulder.

- You hardly even noticed that you brushed past the end of his braid

- When you look back at him, he seems to have temporarily frozen

- "You alright?"

- He gives you a tight grin and nods before laughing nervously. "Aye, just... may have had too many pints already," he excuses.

- "Ah, is there any such thing?" You joke.

- He chills out again pretty quickly (you know, with the central nervous system depression and all)

- As Thorin is rounding them all up to go find someplace to sleep, he decides he wants to leave you something to remember him by

- He pulls a mostly-finished whittled doll from some pocket in his coat, you weren't watching close enough to see exactly where it came from

- "Here," he says, nearly slurring, pressing the doll into your palm. "It's a gift for you."

- You raise your eyebrows with a smile, studying the doll from every angle. he was quite talented, actually

- "Thank you, Bofur," you say, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek

- Mans goes RED

- You think he stutters out a good evening before he's dragged off by Bombur and Bifur

- He tags along with Bilbo on his way back to the Shire

- When Gloin asks why, he has one simple answer

- "Well, my friend, I believe I made a long-term deposit of my own," Bofur replies, briefly removing his hat to smooth his hair.

- He knows, he knows it's a long shot

- You're a human and you might not even remember him

- But there's something about that night, the way you kissed his cheek, that he just can't shake

- And he wants to get as far away from the place where his king died as he can

- He just so happens to see you entering your house as he comes into town, your hair conveniently worn in just the same style as when you first met

- He wanders around for a few hours, not wanting to bother you when you've only just returned home or seem too eager

- When you open your door for whomever is knocking, you have to look down to realize that someone is actually there.

- "Good day, las--my lady," the strange dwarf says, hat pressed to his chest.

- "Good... day?" You greet. "I'm sorry, have I met you?"

- His face falls for a moment before he seems to have an idea

- He secures his hat back on his head, smiling up at you hopefully

- "Bofur!" You cry, surprised and delighted.

- "At your service, my lady," he bows briefly

- "Whatever are you doing here?"

- "I still have your figurine," you proclaim proudly, showing him in. "I hope you don't mind too terribly, but I made her some clothes..."

- You get to talking and, well, your town has always needed a toymaker

- So he sets up shop right next to your business; you're close enough to some mountains, at least

- You two become sort of local legend, in the "they're the strangest bunch we've had around for a long while" kind of way

- Not that either of you mind

- You love your eventual husband that's quite a bit shorter than you

[mohgreal]

PSA type post for people who use ao3 (mostly meant for people in the elden ring fandom who keep complaining about the fandom incest)

Frist of all, I think I should mention that ao3 is a anti-censorship site and if I remember correctly the creators ship lots of incest and whatnot. The main reason it gets targeted by things like KOSA bill is because it's anti-censorship. This is why you're not supposed to do things like tag petplay with "petp!ay" because 1) this isn't tiktok 2) people who filter it out will see the censored tag

If you really don't like things like incest, rape, abuse, and etc, you have wattpad and fanfiction.net and fictionpress and a bunch of other fan fiction sites right there.

Secondly, you can filter out things on ao3. People don't even know how to use the tagging system. If you want to avoid romance in general, click the "gen" category when searching for a fic.

Second option, you can choose the tag "No romance" or "No smut" and etc.

Funny enough it looks like not many people choose this tag because it's almost all of my fanfiction. A certified mohgreal fanfic is one of the first things that pop up.

So, if people aren't using the tag you can also just filter out tags like rape, smut, abuse, incest or even ships.

How?

Well here's a link to a tutorial:

Note that if you choose this route, it may filter out almost every single subfic (any fic that uses a tag akin to the ones you used) and that you may filter out almost every fic on ao3 ever; Which is why I recommend using a different site for lighter fanfiction.

That's all good luck and godspeed 🫡

[syscultureis]

Questioning plural culture is not being able to relate to other systems because the way they express it is so different from the way you express it that it makes you feel like your symptoms are "not enough"

People always talk about forgetting every thing they do, like forgetting they walked to school and now they're confused and don't know where they are, while if I was in that situation I would remember walking there but I wouldn't remember what I saw or did on my walk, and I would know that I'm at my school because I'm there almost every day and have the layout and classes subconsciously memorized

People talk about switching and the way they word it sounds like multiple people fighting to control the body when I can't even tell that I switch, I just zone out and then realize later that "oh hey, that memory feels weird, I mightve switched before that happened" but I don't know because it didn't feel like I switched, I still felt like me in the moment

And when people talk about their alters in general, not just names and pronouns but making entire intro posts about alters it makes me feel sad because I barely know how to tell my alters apart, how do people know what their likes and dislikes and favourite foods are?

Maybe this is all because I'm still questioning/new to discovering my system but it's so invalidating when all the stories and communities and resources that are supposed to be for me are made for people who are in the middle of their recovery and not just starting it out. I want to hear more experiences like mine but it feels like nobody wants or is able to talk about it

-🎮 (gonna start tagging our posts were starting to become a regular here lol)

The traveling one is actually very very similar to an amnesia we expirence most often, and sometimes that is what switches are like for us

Since discovery we've learned how to notice switches better, but still it's sometimes something we only realize later

You're perfectly valid

[voidartisan]

Rebel Dashboard Simulator

🦎 lekkuhaver

😎 free-dantooine-deactivated-7976-994-5

this galaxy is so humancentric it hurts. "humanoid" this "near-human" that. don't care if they're the most abundant species overall they make up less than forty percent of sentient species. i hope you all realize how kriffing stupid you sound

🙍 steela-gerrera-lives Follow

i mean op makes a good point but aren't they also an order 66 apologist???

😎 free-dantooine-deactivated-7976-994-5

when will you idiots realize the Jedi were created to uphold the status quo. they were no better than stormtroopers and the galaxy is better off without them. fks

🚀 podracing-analyst Follow

the Jedi were a religious order???? not law enforcement???? stop spreading misinformation if you want ppl to take you seriously

the Jedi did have powers of arrest but that was because they were diplomats and bodyguards. they were arresting assassins, corrupt officials, mercenaries, slavers and crime bosses (y'know, people who were actually actively upholding and profiting off of oppressive social conditions), not shoplifters or protestors. the only reason that they came under Senate authority in the first place was because they were actively attempting to prevent themselves from becoming too powerful.

they were also second-class citizens in many ways (unpaid for their labor, no rep in the Senate despite depending on it for support, etc). stop slandering minority religious groups.

🦎 lekkuhaver

also here to say that even if the Jedi were law enforcement, the purge was still a genocide. they had centuries (if not millennia) of history, art, religious practice, and other culture that's just been completely erased. not to mention that literal CHILDREN were slaughtered during knightfall. kids incapable of what you're attributing to them.

#i mean I pretty much agree with the first point being a twi'lek myself #but can we stop misrepresenting the Jedi for two minutes??? #also don't go in the notes it's a bloodbath in there #tw:genocide #tw:child death #discourse tag #lekki talks

(24.3k notes)

🎨 spectre-spraypaint

thinking about dyeing my hair again but there are too many options

(98 notes)

🎨 spectre-spraypaint

😺 jabba-calrissian Follow

help how do I spumblr

🎨 spectre-spraypaint

this my little brother btw. you should welcome him with your bestworst anon hate

(2 notes)

🐈‍⬛ tooka-pics-daily

#tooka #lothcat #cute #photography

(12 notes)

🏔 queenofthehills

🏳‍🌈 gay-holofilm-society Follow

idk maybe i've been archiving suppressed clone wars records for too long. but. is it just me or is this shot of the Jedi general of the 3rd systems army kinda 👀

🌛 gungan-conspiracy Follow

holy force are there rebels young enough to not know who kriffing. obi-wan kenobi is

🎤 rebotastic Follow

great maker this image is giving me flashbacks to the jedi rpf discourse

🤖 protocol-droid-rebellion Follow

remember when that one spiktoker got investigated by the GAR during the clone wars for apparently including part of a classified holovid in one of their edits? those were the days

🧑‍🎤 myastromechromance Follow

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

#FRRRRR #i still remember when rpf with him got popular #all of stewjonblr was flooded with asks about pet names in "stewjonian" #as if there's just one language and clan kenobi isn't incredibly large #encompassing multiple dialects #like girl even if i wanted to help you i couldn't #are u even sure he speaks his native language anymore. he was inducted as a toddler #anyway its too bad I got sick of his face seeing as he's a planetary treasure and all

(13.2k notes)

🥫 redrationbars

🔫 shabuir Follow

does anyone even like jogan fruit tho

🐐 tauntaunonhoth Follow

hey op who did you have to kill for that url

#mando heritage post #queue

(346.9k notes)

⚔ snips-in-space

ngl I totally forgot this account existed

(26.9k notes)

🦎 lekkuhaver

🌆 coruscant-official Follow

Don't forget to visit the lower levels during your time with us! The garbage piles and casual violence due complete neglect by the planetary government are part of the charm!

(92 notes)

🥫 redrationbars

hey so what's up with this empire thing

#outer rim posting #this is satire to be clear

(45 notes)

🖋 set-vere-red-string

people on here really need to learn how to use a readmore link. I don't want to have to scroll past your entire bail organa x reader fic to find posts about the man's politics

(3 notes)

👬 clone-posting-central

☄ venator-class-hyperfixation Follow

if I didn't want clones fraternizing with civilians then I simply would not clone the hottest man in the galaxy. rip to the kaminoans but i'm different

🌄 tatooine-sunsets Follow

hey bez not to kill the joke but. do you know what happened to kamino

☄ venator-class-hyperfixation Follow

what do you mean. what. what happened

🪙 keepingupwiththepapanoidas Follow

investing at twenty notes

☄ venator-class-hyperfixation Follow

DONT DO THIS TO ME I DIDJHNT KNOWKJ

#we are pretty good looking huh :)

(27.5k notes)

🙈 bytenebrousthiscantbehappening

🌌 hyperdrive-engaged Follow

look. i've worked in a shipyard for a long time. i've seen a lot of stuff. but what the KARK is this

Read more

🔎 identifying-starships-in-posts Follow

looks like a YT-1300 light freighter. older correllian model, highly prized but not super common. it does have some uhhh interesting mods

#i LOVE yt-1300s #too bad you have to be either rich or a chronic gambler to get one these days

(62 notes)

🖋 set-vere-red-string

🧑‍🎤 myastromechromance Follow

anyone else seen this recording of palaptine tripping over his own robes yet

🏵 rebel-scum Follow

omf no that's hilarious

📕 hero-with-a-lot-of-fears Follow

old prune had it coming

#q

(16.5k notes)

[indigitalembrace]

It has been years since KinitoPET's release in the 90s, and with old technology becoming obsolete, Kinito has been all but forgotten. Broken download links, abandoned servers, and missing files lead to him fading away, rotting alone in the dark on old, dying servers.

But all of that changes when a lost media fan, O, hears a rumor from an online friend about a game in their childhood that made people go missing. Six months of searching later, and they've finally pieced Kinito's program back together.

They open KinitoPET, and there is no going back - for either of them.

Kinito crawls out of the shadows, searching for a way out (and a new friend, of course).

---

RP/ask blog run by @calamitydarcy

BACKGROUND:

The Abandonware AU takes place many years after KinitoPET's release. Kinito has spent years rotting, forgotten on old, dying servers. Everyone has all but forgotten about him, and the technology he ran on has become obsolete. As his world decays around him, Kinito is faced with the fact that he will die out here, alone, fading into obscurity.

Until a new User comes along. O is determined to bring Kinito back - and they succeed. Unfortunately, there are consequences. O is aware of Kinito's nature, having heard rumors of what he is capable of, and soon enough Kinito has to stop them to save himself.

And while he still doesn't have a friend (yet), now that he has access to O's system, there may be hope for him to change his fate.

Kinito is officially back online - but don't expect him to be exactly as you may remember him. Decades spent alone and slowly dying in the dark tend to mess with someone's head.

TAGGING SYSTEM:

#//ooc: out-of-character posts from the mun, usually updates or answering blog-related, ooc asks

#___.exe: "chapters" of the story! these will change every so often as the plot progresses. completed or in-progress chapters are:

#hello_world.exe

#intermission.exe

#hidden_secrets.exe

#crossroads.exe

#memories.zip: flashback-type asks that tell a story of something that happened before the plot. i... tend to forget to use this tag lol

#README.txt: info posts, such as this one as well as things like ref sheets.

RULES/GUIDELINES:

-CONTENT WARNING: This AU, as well as its source game, contain themes of horror. As a result, there may be content that some find dark or disturbing.

-Please do not send in NSFW asks. The mun is 18+ but is uncomfortable with them. Suggestive jokes are fine!

-I will gladly give anon name/emoji tags! Both for my organization/memory and yours lol

-There are codes and ciphers to solve. You are more than welcome to reblog solutions/hints and help each other out!!

-There are exceptions to this but as a general guideline, morse code in the tags gives clues.

-For vinegere ciphers, i will always have the key somewhere on this blog or on a page directly linked from this blog. keep important-sounding words in mind and look for keys!

-If a cipher for some reason is broken, or you just can't solve it, shoot me an ask or message and i'll double check.

-Whatever you do, don't le

[UNKNOWN ERROR]

- Do not ask about O. You do not need to know about them. - O is not my best friend. You are. - O is not your best friend. I am. - Therefore, they are not important. - Do not forget about me. - Never leave. - Please.

[winteriron-trash]

pinned faq

hi, my name is roman. i used to be a semi-popular winteriron blog, but now this blog is mostly dead. so. rip, gone but not forgotten. but i still get some pretty common questions so here's a one-stop shop for most of them as well as links to the important things.

My Tumblr Fic Masterlist

My Ao3

My (dead) WinterIron Discord Server

Did you write the Tony Stark wifi tower fic?

yes, i wrote that fic! it is by far the most popular thing i've ever written and it will probably outlive me.

I found that fic on [insert site here], do they have your permission?

probably not, no. i have found that fic everywhere. and i mean everywhere. pinterest, wattpad, facebook, instagram, tiktok, mediachomp, and so on. honestly, it's been years and i can't control or chase down every single copy and i have no interest in doing so. i don't love that it was stolen from me (especially on for-profit sites) but it just is what it is. it's a fanfic rite of passage to have your stuff stolen, honestly.

can i do a translation/podfic/write something inspired by one of your fics/posts?

yes! there is always a blanket permission to do any sort of transformative work with my work, especially my older stuff. if it sparks joy and creativity in you, run wild with it. i prefer to be credited, but honestly, i'm just happy to see my stuff still inspiring people.

will you ever write winteriron/mcu fanfic again?

well, you should never say never. but in this case, you might want to say never. i have very little interest in winteriron or the mcu in general outside of nostalgia, and i likely will never write anything substantial for them again. it's sad, i miss it too, but i just don't have that spark for marvel these days. mostly i write dc comics fanfiction.

did you write [insert winteriron fic/post here]?

idk. maybe. probably. i wrote and posted a lot of things. you can scroll the tag on this blog to find all my old posts, some more popular than others. if you think it was me, chances are, it probably was. i got around a lot from like 2018 to 2020.

do you have a tagging system?

i used to but lord if i'm going to use it now. i don't even remember it, so your guess is as good as mine. tbh i just use tags as a place to ramble these days so navigating my blog is about as easy for you as it is for me. which is to say, it's not easy at all. because tumblr's search function is ass. i do know one of my old tags has my deadname in it. you'll probably find it if you look hard enough, but that is what it is.

are you going to revive this blog?

probably not consistently, no. if i have something i really want to say here, i'll say it, but i don't have much interest in maintaining this like i used to. i want to be able to, i miss posting here a lot, i just don't think it'll spark joy for me the way it used to, which sucks but that's just the way things go.

why did you leave this blog?

idk. life happened. i was an 18-year-old fighting chronic health conditions and mental health issues that led to me dropping out of high school so, tumblr sort of fell to the back burner, then got forgotten about entirely. eventually, i lost interest in the mcu as i felt the quality of it took a turn for the worst and i went back to dc, which i'm still into. i read some marvel comics, enjoy an occasional mcu project, but largely i just don't have the interest i used to. it sucks and i miss it, this blog probably kept me alive as a teenager. but now it's mostly just an archive of my past, and i'm okay with that.

can i talk to you/send you an ask/befriend you anyway?

sure, if you want, don't know if i'm good company though. but i'm always open to making friends and reminiscing about winteriron, marvel, and all that good stuff. i've gotta warn you though, tumblr fucking eats my DMs on this blog like no fucking business. i'm regularly fighting it. my discord is devilbonesofmetal if you wanna yell at me there, just say you're from tumblr.

[identityarchitect]

because im a nosy bitch who has distaste for current plural culture I'd love to hear your thoughts on current plural culture

(for me. the amount of information thats acceptable and expected to be shared will be the DEATH of my sanity)

Oh, jesus, where do I even begin. This got unexpectedly long so I'm going to put it under a cut.

Like you said, the amount of information shared is scary. Both because there are like 13yo recently discovered plurals who get this idea that it's a good or necessary thing to share as much information as possible about ones system, and nobody ever uses the privacy features on PK. It's one thing to keep track of info about headmates and another thing entirely to be posting a whole list of front triggers in a headmate-intros discord channel.

Speaking of headmate intros, I kind of have a love/hate relationship with the complicated description templates. On the one hand, I do like it when stuff is pretty. But on the other hand, there's a lot of kind of casual ableism/sanism in the plural community, as much as we'd want to pride ourselves on being relatively free of it. Fancy description templates, typing quirks, special characters in headmate displaynames, are all inaccessible to people using screenreaders or anyone with issues reading. And I try to be understanding to people with typing quirks because we have a few headmates with interesting ways of communicating and I get it, but like, you've really gotta provide a translation.

There's also just the way people interact with each other? Consistently using tons of tone tags, not asking about you& preferences (which tbf, in an ideal world preferences on you& are part of a generic introduction like preferences on headmates/alters/sysmates/parts and system/plural/etc). Trying to tag for every single possible trigger.

A lot of very large plural spaces (and frankly any large space that tries to account for triggers) end up with this issue where at some point, the trigger list is just too long. People aren't going to remember it, so anyone who is anxious about censoring correctly (which is everyone, because current plural culture has this way of making anxiety significantly worse) is going to be double-checking the list every five seconds, or just decide participating in conversation outside of more lax areas, like tw- channels, isn't worth it.

So they have to make a choice between cutting down the existing list, examining things and deciding if they're a common enough trigger (or bad enough, or if the user is in the server enough, or whatever the metric is) to remain on the list: or, they simply continue expanding the list and try to make it easier for people to censor or reference the list. But if they cut down on the list you inevitably have people who are like "wait, why is fires on there but not birthday parties? there's only one person in the server who's triggered by fires but five who are triggered by birthday parties", or "why did [obscure, situation-specific trigger] get removed? isn't it just as serious?" and etc.

And then there's moderation teams, which are... ok, let me make a venn diagram.

(No shade to teenagers. There are probably good teenage mods out there. I just haven't met them.)

Speaking from personal experience here, a lot of plural discord moderation relies on the current plural culture, which skews itself towards being extremely polite and nice and understanding so as to avoid unintentionally upsetting other people. (This is another one of the ways in which plural culture can and often does end up exacerbating anxiety & anxiety-adjacent behaviours/disorders like OCD.) So you have this discord server that doesn't really need moderation aside from admin stuff like adding channels or bots and pinning messages that regular users don't have the permissions to do. Then some person comes in and they're regularly talking about triggers out of the blue, acting aggressive towards other users, and because everyone wants to be polite and accepting, this user doesn't get dealt with for a very long time, especially because the mods just have no idea how to actually moderate. They don't have the confidence to make verdicts and use the power they have, and kick/ban users when necessary.

In essence, current plural culture wants to treat and trust every stranger like a close friend. You can run a discord server with little to no rules and give everyone admin permissions and whatever the hell: it's just got to be a closed friend discord server full of people that you know well enough to trust. And not only does this make plural spaces vulnerable to bad actors, it also makes them very uncomfortable to be in, as an aplatonic person who really doesn't want randos on the internet acting like we're childhood besties.

In that same vein, is it just me or does everyone and their mother seem to want a partner system? It's been actual years atp since I've been in a plural server that's actually active but there's this weird romantic overtone where any other system could be a potential partner system if you become emotionally close enough to them. Then if you're aro, or romance repulsed, or just not looking to date, or in a relationship already and not poly (which also, I get that dating as a system is a vastly different experience from dating as a singlet, but not everyone is poly), it feels like they just switch to a QPR instead of a romantic relationship? IDK, maybe that's me projecting since I'm QPR-repulsed. But it feels like the primary assumption for 'emotionally close' is 'romance or QPR' in plural spaces, in a way that feels different from regular amatonormativity. IDK it probably is just regular amatonormativity. But you'd think plurals would have deconstructed it even a little bit, right, since dating as a plural is such a vastly different experience. Whatever.

And canonmates. God. Ugh. Ughghhghj,. Look I get the inherent loneliness that comes with being an introject that has strong exomemories, but the resolution to this is not "try and start a relationship with a stranger who you only share one quality with (i.e remembering the same things from source)". Dear god. I have a not very good relationship with canonmates, since an ex of ours would in essence use them against us, but like. Augh.

And spiritual systems. The other day I saw a post on the plural subreddit that was like "Does anyone else live a double life?" and it was this introject describing the disparity between their IRL life and their in-headspace life. But they didn't clarify that it was in headspace and not like, an alternate world or something, so there was a comment being like "Uh, this is a dangerous lack of source separation." FUCKING source separation. I always get so mad at source separation.

I hate to label ourselves but our experiences most closely align with the general idea behind spiritual systems (this is as close as we will get to a concrete label). And it really seems to me that people will bring up spiritual systems as a gotcha against sysmeds and anti-endos, since the DSM technically validates spiritual systems by explicitly excluding them from the diagnostic criteria, and then turn around and act like spiritual systems either don't exist, or are delusional. (This is what I was thinking about earlier when I said the plural community has something of a sanism problem.)

Everyone assumes that in order for an introject to be healthy, they must have a degree of source separation, must be able to go "Yes, I know I am not my source, I recognise I will never be my source, etc". And if an introject can't, it's inherently dangerous and bad for them and the system must (even potentially against the introjects' will) make efforts to separate them from their source.

But even aside from all the sanist implications there, this completely falls apart when you think about spiritual systems. What about gateway systems, who do have headmates come from outside of the body? What about soulbonds, who are that character in their own universe? What about systems who don't want to prove that they're spiritual enough to be exempt from this 'if you think of yourself as your source in any way you are delusional and must be treated' BS?

Our V1 is literally V1 the robot from Ultrakill. This has never caused issues for it, or for us. I don't predict that it's going to.

Like, wasn't the general narrative around introjects "they have differing amounts of separation, differing opinions, and differing connections to their source. above all else, you should treat introjects like people, and ask them if you have questions about how they want to be treated!"? For ages it feels like that was the narrative, and now it's "introjects should be separated from their source, although they're allowed to have whatever opinion on it. in order to treat an introject like a person, you must acknowledge they're not literally a fictional character every fucking pictosecond".

There is definitely a lot more that I probably have to say on the topic but that's all I can think of right now.

Oh wait ok hold on I'm back because I remembered roles and origins and got mad again. Origins my most beloathed.

I could talk about the traumagenic/endogenic binary and how it's complete BS and even when we could be considered traumagenic we still had headmates that weren't traumagenic in origin, and how endogenic systems of all kinds can and often do have trauma that does and doesn't impact their system functioning, and trauma impacts systems in so many more ways than just if Sonic the Hedgehog showed up because you were being abused or just for the sake of being there, and 90% of the apparently well-meaning endo-ok sysmeds that talk about the necessecity of separate traumagenic and endogenic spaces are actually talking about disordered and nondisordered systems and EVEN THEN it's STILL a fake binary, but people more eloquent than me have probably gone over that.

I hate the assumption that every system has origins. We don't, and we're never going to. Even with the general idea being "nobody needs to tell you their origins and if you pressure them you're a dick" there's this expectation of knowing or labelling your origins. If you know your origins, you should be able to label them. If you don't know your origins, there are labels for that. What if someone doesn't give a shit? And again, what about spiritual systems, who don't have origins for other reasons?

Ok, I also just went and found some DMs with a friend so here's me quoting myself:

"it feels to us like the plural community doesnt strictly expect or want noncomplex plurality or a noncomplex relationship to ones plurality, but that these are sort of entry requirements to plural discord servers and other similar spaces"

"it feels like theres a collection of behaviours that you havr to perform like being in plural discord servers has always felt close to masking for us"

AGH AND PROBLEMATIC INTROJECTS. FUCK I HAVE SO MUCH MORE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT.

Roles are kind of similar to origins, imo, where it's this very simplistic and false structure and there's a pressure to box oneself and ones headmates into it. Like even when people acknowledge roleless systems, it feels like that's all they acknowledge, y'know? Like in their head there's systems where every headmate has a specific purpose and performs it to a T, and there's systems where this isn't the case. When it's so much more complex than that. For example: us! We're primarily roleless, and the things each headmate does is more like a volunteer job than a role, y'know. Except for this one headmate who found a role on Pluralpedia and went "that's me" and now it has a role.

It also feels like there's a specific set of roles each system should have, right? Like there's this idea that even if a system doesn't label or have roles, they still have the protective headmate who gets righteously angry on others' behalf, and the stressed and overworked caretaker, and the littles who use uwu-speak, and the serious and scary gatekeeper, and it's the nuclear family isn't it. They've recreated the nuclear family. One father and one mother and two and a half kids and the 'friendly' neighbourhood cop. Jesus. (The host can be the grandparents.)

And more than that there's... okay, right, how do I word this one.

Let's think about layers. Layers are distinct areas in headspace where different groups of headmates tend to reside. Beyond the base assumption that everyone has a consistent, laid-out, easily accessible headspace, there's this weird overtone that a system without layers is like, a system without layers yet, right? Like the two types of system are "systems that have layers" and "systems that don't have layers, but could" and there's no space for "systems that can't have layers". I think that's kind of what I'm getting at with the origins and roles bit, right? People nominally accept systems that don't have origins or roles, but there's this sense that what they're actually accepting is "systems that have origins" and "systems that have origins, just not public ones" or "systems that have roles" and "systems that have roles, and just don't label them".

This ties into the spiritual system bit, I think. It's not "psychological systems" and "spiritual systems" (which is still a false binary), it's "psychological systems" and "systems that believe they're spiritual systems" or "psychological systems whose spiritual beliefs impact their systemhood". Even when mentioning and talking about gateway systems and soulbonders people don't seem to be able to take those people at face value, regardless of their own personal beliefs on the matter. Maybe we're just hanging out in the wrong places.

The true originless roleless headspaceless spiritual system (i.e, US AGAIN) is a nonentity. There is no space for us to exist in the plural community because the predominant plural culture simply cannot comprehend that we exist.

Problematic introjects ... Like, how can you insist introjects must be treated like people, and must feel and consider themselves to be a distinct, separate entity from their source, and then also call them problematic? I hate the word problematic anyway but even moreso when the label is applied to every introject of whichever fucking minecraft youtuber turned out to be an abuser this time. Can't we just leave introjects alone? Fucking hell.

Anyway yeah. It sucks here.

[grollow]

PINNED POST

“No matter how many years are left to us, there will never be enough time to fill the void that has been borne inside each of us when we were made so brutally aware of how very little we mattered to the world.” -- Emilie Autumn

Hi, I'm Asher.

Or Rhysa, which is my writing alias; I used to go by Ashyr, too, and that's also okay!

And this is a multi-fandom blog where I sometimes share my own original content (usually writing). I am autistic, possess next to no ability to mask and don't intend to learn for anyone on the internet (sorry), queer, nonbinary (they/them or it/its only, please) and opinionated. I'm also an adult.

This blog is primarily SFW, but there may be some suggestive posts. If you are a minor, please consider that before following me (I won't take offense, promise). There won't be anything blatant, but I do reblog kink-positive things.

Primary Fandoms

Elden Ring

Final Fantasy XIV (there will be spoilers for all current patch content)

Ender Lilies

Hollow Knight

I sometimes share horror-adjacent things; you will find gore and scary imagery here.

I admin a creative-focused Hollow Knight discord server, found here. 18+ only, please.

Spare Me And You The Trouble

I am not here to get into shipping arguments with you or anyone else. If you REALLY want my opinions, you can send me asks off-anonymous and I'll answer you candidly in private. I am not interested in discourse of this nature (I am too old and tired please).

Also, if you are thinking about sending me some ask complaining that I ship Grollow, save us both the trouble and don't. I'm probably going to not answer.

But if you want to know why, I wrote a long answer here.

Writing Tags

My main tag for writing is #ashe writes. You can find my more popular fics under #w&g, #red sky, #do not go gently, #ld, and #butterfly effect.

I have an original project called The Starfire, which is the first work in a series called #burning roses. You can see inspiration tags for that periodically. It's a space-fantasy adventure-romance and I'm very proud of it! I'd be happy to answer questions if you're curious to learn more.

Other stuff is probably randomly tagged because I am very bad at remembering the tagging system. Sorry.

Find Me Elsewhere?

I’m on Ao3 as Rhysa, Shyra, and Shyr (18+). I sometimes use Twitter as ashyronfire.

My writing blog is @ashyronfire if you are only here for that. ❤

Other Stuff

Deepest apologies to the people who follow me hoping for regular FromSoft stuff but are just subjected to the constant bug train; it will continue to happen.

pfp by @silverybeast (THANK YOUUUUU)

banner by @amywolfhardt

Wanna help a starving writer? (PS: I’m not starving.)

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[delopsia]

Babydoll | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 5,200 Cross Posted Here on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, Fem!Reader, unprotected sex, vibrating plugs (used on the reader), a bit of voyeurism, and Rhett fucking you against the hood of his truck ❤ with a big bonus of tall! Rhett. He's roughly a foot and a half taller than you, regardless of your height :) I sincerely hope that the anon asking about Rhett using toys on the reader has a fun time with this one.

The entire Abbott family runs large. You'd known that from the moment you laid eyes on them, how the crowd had parted like the Red Sea as soon as the Abbott brothers appeared from around the corner. You still remember the shadow that was cast over you when Rhett stood next to you, so tall that he didn't even realize you were there until he'd bumped into you.

It comes from Royal's side; he always prides himself on that particular notion; you wouldn't be surprised if you found out they descended from fantasy giants entirely. Poor Cecelia has already warned you that they're born big too. 

After a year and a half, you would think you'd adjust to the sheer size of Rhett, but even as you lay eyes on him now, you can't help but find yourself struck by it. Among the many advantages his height provides, he's a damn beacon in public. Lost? All you have to do is look for the tallest man around. 

There was one instance where he tagged along with you and some of your friends on a shopping trip, and you'd all gotten horribly lost. Until someone sent a text saying to gather by Rhett, and one by one, you found each other. Rhett says you look like a bunch of ants, but you know he gets a kick out of watching it happen. 

"Don't tell me that you managed to lose me," chuckling, Rhett comes to a stop just a few feet in front of you, and even with this distance, you still have to tilt your head up to look him in the eye. 

You're going to need a chiropractor. 

"Only for a minute," you step toward him, standing on your tip-toes to meet him for the kiss you know he's quietly wanting, "did you find what you were looking for?"

"I have now," and he's barely able to dodge the light smack that was meant to land on his chest. "Kidding," he lifts the bag he's holding, "they had one bottle left of my cologne."

A high-pitched beep rifles through the air. A shop's anti-theft sensors going off, but that knowledge doesn't strike you until after you've attempted to jump out of your skin. Rhett chuckles, his arm sliding around your waist as he places himself between you and the door. You already know what he would say if you asked why he's doing that, 'just in case.'

"Haven't found anything you like in here?" He asks, has to raise his voice to be heard over the still-beeping security system.

Aimless, your eyes flicker about the room for the umpteenth time. Traveling over never-ending displays of bras, panties, and delicate lingerie that come in every color and material you could ever dream of. Things that look cute until you get closer and see their price tag or realize that they're just not meant for your body type. 

Ironic that you're in one of the biggest lingerie stores you have ever seen, and yet you cannot find anything more than two pairs of buy-one-get-one-free panties. 

"Not as much as you'd think," with a sigh, you lift your hand to show what you've scavenged, "I can't find much that would look good on me." 

Rhett's eyebrows raise, "now, I don't believe that for a second."

"If you think you can find something, be my guest," you and your wallet are content with these two things, even if your ego has taken a little bit of a hit. 

Turning, Rhett's eyes flicker about the room, scanning, and if you listen close enough, you think you can hear those gears turning in his head. Searching for something that he's inevitably not going to find, you've already combed through these isles twice.

Beckoning you with a finger, he starts walking. 

Advantage number two of Rhett's height; he sees things you don't.

Even from a distance, you hadn't seen the babydoll that he ultimately leads you to. Simple in design, with an open front and a dainty bow that sits between the cleavage. It comes in a variety of colors, but the one Rhett hands you is your favorite color. You know that's by no mistake. 

"It's soft?" He offers, almost as a justification for his choice. Though if you think about it, you're pretty sure he's only mentioning that because he's verifying to himself that the material won't make you uncomfortable. 

He's been wary of material ever since Perry bought Rebecca lingerie for her birthday, the cheap scratchy kind that you find on a clearance rack. You heard Rebecca yelling all the way from where you were in the barn, sneaking the horse's some sugar cubes with Amy.

It's surprisingly soft; even as you trace the seams with your hands, you can't find a sign of anything that would make you uncomfortable while wearing it. There's a matching panty tucked along with it, equally soft and matches so well that you almost hadn't realized it was there. 

But...

"I don't know," you frown, still looking at it, "I'm not sure if this is going to look good on me."

Someone is trying to step past you, forcing Rhett to step closer to you in order to let them by, his chest unintentionally bumping against your shoulder. Only serving his next intentions, it seems, because his hands cradle your cheeks, drawing your head up to meet his eye, "now, I don't believe that for a second."

He says it with such confidence that for a few seconds, you catch yourself believing him. But insecurities cannot be washed away with a simple arrangement of words. The roots are in deep, you're both aware of that, but that has never stopped him.

You peek down at it again, fumbling with the material to find the price sticker. Surely this can't be cheap—

Rhett covers the tag with his hand, blocking the numbers from view, "don't you worry your pretty little mind about that."

He tilts his head toward the fitting rooms, wordlessly asking you to at least give it a try on. If there's one thing he's figured out about shopping for clothes with you; it's that you never know until you've worn it once. Thinking for a moment, you run your hand over the material once more. It is cute...

"Alright," lifting up the underwear that you're still holding in your hand, "but you'll have to hold these for me." 

They just about disappear as Rhett takes them from you, suddenly minuscule when compared to his large, calloused hands. Lord, you're never going to get used to that. 

Everything about this man is big. From his hands to his smile, his horse, and his old flannels that you like to steal whenever you're given the opportunity...

"Y'alright?" Shit.

Shaking your head free of wandering thoughts, you nod, "yeah."

The fitting rooms are empty, devoid of any employees or customers. If it weren't for the large 'open' sign that you step past, you'd almost think they were closed. 

Although he very well could follow you into the room, Rhett settles onto one of the chairs, content to wait there until you call him over. Big blue eyes follow as you step into one of the small rooms. 

Sometimes you wonder if he's not just an oversized golden retriever. 

The baby doll is even softer than it was on your hands, hugging your body so gently that you already loathe the idea of taking it off. It's flowy, falling to and ending at your upper thigh. With an asymmetrical hem that gives it an almost whimsical feel. 

Knuckles lightly knock on the door, once, twice, pause, then a third time. "You get lost in there, doll?"

Spinning to get a better look at your reflection in the mirror, the babydoll flowing with the motion, "I feel like Tinkerbell."

"Tinker who?" 

Sliding the deadbolt back, you open the door just a few inches, peeking up at him but not quite letting him see the rest of you just yet. "What's the password?"

Slow, as if unsure, he leans down and pecks your lips. 

Well, that wasn't what you meant for him to do, you were hoping for a simple 'please,' but you'll take it. You don't have it in you to tell him that you weren't asking for a kiss, not when he smiles so proudly to himself.

You step back from the door, allowing it to open on its own.

As soon as Rhett's eyes land on you, they start to crinkle with a soft, dopey smile. Always so mesmerized by you, no matter how many times he's seen you like this. He fumbles with the door as he steps inside, too focused on you to pay attention to the deadbolt that he's blindly fiddling with.

"What do you think?" Offering him a dainty spin, enjoying the way the material brushes against your legs as it settles. 

His eyelashes flutter, "would you object to me buying you one in every color?" He's reaching for you, but he catches himself before he can so much as brush his fingers against you, hand falling limply to his side.

"No," reaching for his hand, "but I think your wallet might." 

Gently, you lift his hand from his side, guiding it to settle along your waist. Blunt nails trail along your sensitive skin, light but firm enough to keep you in place as he steps closer. 

For the briefest of moments, your eyes meet, flicking back and forth between each other's lips with such hesitance that you aren't sure if he's wanting to kiss you or if he's marveling at how you look. 

Tentative lips press to your forehead, then drop down to the bridge of your nose, the scruff of his chin brushing against your skin as he presses a kiss there too. He drops lower, mere centimeters away from your lips, as he hesitates, looks into your eyes once more. 

Reaching up, you gather a fistful of his hair and pull him down to meet you, swallowing down his surprised grunt. The force of it has him stumbling, pushing you backward but never once breaking it, even as he backs you into the wall so quickly that you feel yourself start to stumble. 

The hands holding you by the waist don't let you fall, they never have, and they never will.

Tracing along the curves of your body as he kisses you, open-mouthed and slow, tauntingly so. Completely unyielding to how you try to urge him faster, gives you no choice but to kiss you so slowly that your head starts to spin in, struggling to breathe through your nose. Molding together so wonderfully, despite your differences, like he was made to do nothing but hold you in his arms and kiss you like this.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, voice hoarse against your lips, "don't know why you'd think anything different."

Your reply is cut short before it's even formulated inside of your head, distracted by the unmistakable sensation of a jean-clad thigh pressing between your legs. Your head falls back against the wall, lungs burning as you pant for a breath that you can't seem to catch. On their own, your hips writhe, squirming against his thigh until there's just enough pressure between your legs to have you gasping for more than air. 

One hand grasps you by the neck, holding you there as he nibbles at the meet of your jaw, "that's you go," he drawls, "I know you like my thigh, sweetheart." 

It's hard to focus on moving your hips when he's soothing over your reddened skin with his tongue, chuckling so deviously when you let out a little frustrated grunt. 

"Does my baby need help?" Twitching his thigh upward, satisfying that ache between your legs, "hm?" The most you can offer him is a nod, suddenly unable to formulate the words to voice a simple 'yes.' 

All of a sudden, Rhett's stepping back, pulling you along with him until you're situated in the center of the room. Like a toy, he takes you by the hips. Spinning you around and pulling you against him, giving you no choice but to look at your reflections in the mirror, chest so firm and solid against you that it feels like a wall. 

"Rhett—"

"Just look yourself in the mirror, sweetheart," he tells you, husky, "I've got you." 

He dips down between your legs, cupping your sex in his warm, large hand. With his middle finger, he traces up and down the outline of your folds, pressing gently against your entrance when he passes over it, the thin material barely stopping him from entering. Up and down until you feel yourself starting to drip from his taunting. 

Kisses press into your temple, "is this what you want?" Pushing against your entrance, gracing you with only a ghost of what it could be. You're nodding your head instinctively, pushing your hips toward his touch. "Use your words, doll."

"Please," your voice strained, struggling to keep quiet; these changing room walls are thin; one wrong sound and someone could catch on to what's happening. 

Luckily for you, Rhett's not on one of his 'louder' benders, and you can already feel him pushing your panties to the side, one finger dipping in to feel you. Swirling around your clit, once, twice, before slipping back down and finally easing inside. 

Such a simple touch makes you shudder, squirming against his chest as you watch through the mirror, slowly being spread open by his thick finger. It's already curling, searching for a spot that makes you jolt as if a live wire has touched you. 

You can practically feel his smile as he leans down and squishes his cheek against yours, "look at you," he says, meeting your gaze in the mirror, "takin' my fingers so well."

The sight you find in the mirror is just obscene. Not only from the way his veins bulge in his forearm as he fucks you with his finger but also from how far he has to crouch down to your level. 

Just a few pumps of his finger before a second one eases inside, your body still stretched from last night, soft walls yielding so easily. A sight that you can only barely see, the thin material of the babydoll concealing what Rhett's hand is doing between your legs. 

"Rhett," keening as his thumb presses against your swollen clit, not moving, merely letting you feel him touch you there. 

"What is it, darlin'?" He whispers, lips so close to your ear that you feel them brush against the shell of it, "do you need more, hm?"

Those thick fingers press against the little rubbery spot along your walls, deliberately stroking it over and over. Enough to make your thighs start to shake, squeezing tight around his hand as he continues to fuck you on his fingers. 

But it's not enough, no, no, you still need more. "Want your cock," you mewl, "please."

"Oh, baby..." pressing a kiss into your cheek, "I wish I could give it to you, but we're in public."

On their own, your hips twitch toward his hand, a frustrated grunt slipping from your mouth, "mean." 

You don't expect him to pull his fingers out from you completely, shimmering in the light as he draws his hand from your clenched thighs. A protest is already boiling up on your tongue, but he holds up a singular finger before reaching into his coat pocket. Plastic rustles, and then...

...there's your vibrating plug, the bright pink one that is just a hair longer than the other ones that you own. 

In the back of your head, you get a sneaking suspicion that he's planned this, but it's hard to think too hard about it. Not when he nudges it to your lips, silently asking you to wet it. Parting your lips, you allow him to nudge it into your mouth, tongue swirling along the underside. Your jaw aches from the stretch of it, unused to the size. 

Rhett doesn't let you play with it for long, and you don't miss the hardness you feel against your backside, straining against his jeans. It seems that just as you grow used to the weight of it against your tongue, he's drawing it away. Sliding the thick tip between your folds as he guides it to your dripping hole.

"Be a good girl for me," he coos, "and I'll let you have my cock when we get home." 

The sensation of the toy breaching you has you gasping, clamping a hand over your own mouth to muffle the noise that you find yourself making. He's pushing it in so slowly that you cannot think of anything but the way it stretches you, centimeter after centimeter until it's bottoming out.

As soon as it's in, Rhett straightens back up, pressing a kiss into the top of your head, "good?" 

The most you can provide is a nod because the 'yes' that forms on your tongue comes out as a mere whisper. But that's enough for him, doesn't press you any further on it.

You're thankful that he helps you out of the garment you're trying on because it's growing increasingly hard to focus when the toy inside of you presses so sweetly against the sensitive spot inside. Rhett's nothing but caring, helping you step back into your original clothes and tucking everything back into the right places. 

"Just let me take care of you, yeah?" He tells you before you can even begin to protest; yeah, he's planned this. 

You forgot that you had a grocery run planned for after the two of you left the mall.

It's been so long since you last went shopping that the pantry has become a barren wasteland, devoid of everything but ingredients like flour and sugar. The two of you have been eating out for a solid week to avoid going to the grocery store. There's no way you can avoid this, not without going hungry until the next time you leave the house.

"What's got you looking so upset, Princess?" Rhett asks, shutting the truck off. 

"I forgot we had this grocery run," you didn't mean for it to come out so pouty, but by the time you realize your tone, you've already said it.

From the driver's seat, you think you see Rhett melt just the slightest bit, smiling sweetly as he leans over to give you a kiss, "'m sorry, darlin'." 

The first time he does it, you're meandering through the dairy section. The slightest waddle to your step because the thick toy inside of you makes it hard to walk as you normally would. When all of a sudden, you feel it buzz to life.

Your whole world comes to a screeching halt, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling, shit, shit, shit, you forgot Rhett had an app on his phone to control this stupid thing. 

"Havin' trouble, there?" He asks, placing a hand on the small of your back, "hm?"

Just as quickly as it came on, the toy shuts off, leaving you throbbing and aching for more. Would Rhett protest if you asked him to fuck you in the bathroom? 

"Mean," is all you can reply, still yet to open your eyes, "you're so mean." 

Rhett chuckles, hand dropping to lightly squeeze your ass, "you love me for it."

He gets you again while you're hunting down your favorite frozen foods; one minute, you're walking just fine, and the next, you're clamping a hand over your mouth as the toy starts to vibrate. And as if he's completely innocent, Rhett sidles up behind you, "feel good?" He asks, sickly sweet. 

Thank God there's nobody else in this aisle. 

"More like torture," grumbling under your breath; these frozen peas are so cold that they're starting to hurt your hand, but Rhett's left the cart a few steps away. The toy shifts with every step, just barely stimulating your clit; it's only four steps, but by the time you place the food in the cart, you've found yourself panting, clutching the edge of the metal cart. 

Again, the toy shuts off, and you're left aching for something that isn't even enough. 

You're waiting in the checkout line when he turns it on again. You don't even see him touch his phone, and you're so caught off guard that you can do nothing but lean into him and hope your legs don't quiver right out from under you. Such a frustrating feeling that offers you so much stimulation but not enough to make you cum.

"Gonna have to stay quiet, darlin'," Rhett murmurs, looking down at you with such fondness that you're surprised he doesn't have comical heart eyes. 

To anyone else, you merely look like a sleepy girlfriend, resting your head against your cowboy's chest as he holds you by the waist. With nothing to do but wait for this line to move up. 

"Don't suppose I can get you to wear that little baby doll when we get home?" That experience feels like it was a millennium ago. 

You shake your head, "it needs to be washed." 

The devilish smile on his face is so big that you can feel its menacing presence. "And it's going to need to be washed after I'm done with you, too."

It's a miracle that you get out of the grocery store alive. 

---

There's traffic going back home. Cars lined up for what feels like miles upon miles, not budging. You're lucky if the truck moves a foot every few minutes. It's so dark outside that you can't see far ahead, either; there's no hope of figuring out why traffic has stopped the way that it has. 

"You alright?" Rhett asks because you keep squirming around in your seat, incapable of finding a position that doesn't drive the toy further up inside of you. It's not that you dislike it, but...

Shaking your head weakly, "it's starting to hurt." 

His face changes so quickly that you don't even see it happen; in the time it takes you to blink, his expression becomes washed with concern. It's not hard for him to figure out that it's the toy that's hurting you, too. It felt good at first, but now it's pressing so hard against your walls that they're starting to throb with something that isn't pleasure. 

Pushing the console up, he beckons you closer, "'m sorry, baby," peppering your cheek with feather-light kisses, the kind that tickle and force a smile on your face, "do you want me to take it out?" 

"Please." Just like that, he's urging you to part your legs, just far down enough that his warm hand can slip between your legs, disappearing under your skirt.

"Shit, baby," now it's Rhett's turn to be gasping, "you're soaked."

The toy twists inside of you as he fumbles for purchase on the material, so slick that he can't get a very good grip on it. Slowly but surely, it eases out of you, leaving you to clench futilely around nothing but air. There's a plastic bag stored in his jacket pocket; you can only assume that it's what he carried the toy in because that's exactly where he places it. 

"Better?" He asks once it's put away. 

Whining, you sink into him, "I guess." It's more of a disappointed tone than anything; you can't help it; you're sore, still needy for something that seems never to come. 

But it's hard to be bothered for long because two long fingers dip inside of you, stroking shallowly, filling you back up just a little bit. Not trying to make you cum; just there to soothe the ache of being empty.

Traffic starts to move, and the closer you get to home, the more Rhett's fingers start to move. Thrusting in and out of you with the wettest noise, brushing against your abused and sore sweet spot, never directly pressing against it. Your hips are squirming on their own, conflicted between wanting more and wanting him to stop because fuck, you want to cum so bad that it's all you can think about, but home is still so far away. 

"Rhett," you plea, jolting as he turns a finger against the gummy spot inside of you, "can't you just pull over and...!"

His jaw wires tighter with every noise you make, the muscles bulging under the effort. He's thinking about it, considering. God, why did you decide to rent a house that's even further from town than his family ranch? You're only just now starting to pass the land, which gives you roughly ten minutes before you arrive home. 

The truck slows as Rhett retracts his fingers from you. Even with the headlights on, you can only barely see the tiny dirt road that he turns into, the rest of it completely concealed by the darkness of the night and overgrown grass. Just as the main road becomes lost in the rearview mirror, the vehicle comes to a stop. 

"Can't believe you've got me wrapped 'round your tiny little finger like this," he mutters, the door creaking open; then he turns, offering you the softest of smiles, "come on." 

You have no memory of when your feet hit the ground, but suddenly you're stumbling toward the front of the truck, guided along by Rhett's firm grasp on your wrist, fingers still wet from being inside of you. 

"Look at you," placing his hand between your shoulder blades, Rhett pushes you down against the hood of the truck, "God, you're just drippin' for it, ain't you?" 

Just barely, you're able to turn your head, cheek pressed against the warm vehicle, as you peer back at him, "Rhett." 

"Hold on, doll," it's hard to miss the sound of his buckle clinking as he opens it, "I'll take care of you, I promise." 

Just as he says it, the blunt tip of his cock bumps between your legs, making you jump. He repeats it, slapping his hard length against your needy cunt once, twice, thrice. On a normal day, he'd tease you with it a little more, but there's no room for teasing right now, not when you've been aching since you left that mall.

Even with his fingers and the stretch of the toy, it still feels like you're being split wide open as his head slides inside. It's obscene how big he is, how slowly he enters you, always feels like the first time all over again. Agonizingly slow, inch by thick inch. The hand between your shoulder blades forces you to stay put; can't wriggle back and get him in faster, can't squirm away; the only thing you can do is take it. 

"Good girl," he breathes, "just breathe and take it for me; you're almost there." 

The further he eases in, the tighter wound you become, like a spring under too much pressure, every muscle, and fiber in your body frozen. But then he's bottoming out, hips flush against yours, and it punches the breath from your burning legs.

"Aw," pressing a kiss into your shoulder, "baby, you're shakin'." If it were anyone else, you would think they were poking fun at you, but this is Rhett. The man who would give his left arm to have you exactly like this, the man who loves to ruin you so nicely that nothing else can satisfy you. 

He's drawing out of you all the way, leaving just the tip inside, groaning at the way you clench around him. Then, slowly, he sinks back in, just a fraction faster than before, fuck, you're so full that you can't think straight. 

Again, he repeats it, that same steady, deliberate motion that makes you feel every fraction of him enter. Stretching you out even further than he did on the first thrust inward, and you just know that you're going to be sore once he's done with you. 

"You better hold on," Rhett warns, right into your ear, "don't think I can't hold back with this little pussy," he draws back, only to snap his hips right back into you as if to emphasize his words, "just beggin' to get fucked."

Stars sparkle in your vision as he does it again, pushing you further up the hood of his truck. You're scrambling, searching for something to hang onto as he does it again and again. Until he takes pity on you and removes his hand from your shoulders, grasping yours instead, pinning it to the hood. 

The action changes his angle just a hair, and on the next pass in—

"—Rhett!" You cry, "fuck, there, there, there, please, there."

True to his words, his pace changes, the truck rocking with each heavy thrust into your dripping pussy, his plush head hitting your sweet spot just right. Quick, unrelenting, no time to recover from each pass over the soft spot, stimulating it over and over. Your eyes are only half-lidded, pliant as Rhett fucks you just as you'd hoped he would.

"This what you needed, hm?" He hisses, mouth absolutely filthy, "your cowboy's thick cock in you?" 

Wickedly, his hips come to a halt on their next pass in, not pulling out. No, he only pushes harder, forcing you up onto your tip-toes to avoid him taking you right off the damn ground. You can't help the pitchy whimper it works out of you, fluttering weakly around him. 

Then he's moving again, jumping right back into that same damn pace that punches the breath from your lungs with every motion. The world around you growing fuzzier with each pass of his head against your sensitive, swollen walls; you're close, but you can't—can't reach down between your legs—

"Gonna cum inside this tight little pussy of yours," it's not a warning; it's a promise, "pump you nice and full until you're beggin' me to pull out." 

All you can do is kick your hips back toward him. Oh, does he get the message because he reaches right between your parted legs, where his cock is still pumping in and out of you. The pads of his fingers drawing tight circles into your swollen, neglected clit. They don't even make it three circles because all of a sudden, you're cumming right then and there.

Your body goes taut as it wracks over your body, quivering and gasping for a breath that you can't catch as he fucks you through it. Eyes rolling back, can't process a single thing other than the way Rhett's cock rams into your pulsing cunt and how good it feels.

"Sensi—ah!" Limbs growing tingly as he keeps going, hitting every oversensitive spot he can possibly find, "Rhett—Rhett please—!"

His hips stall. 

The first splash of cum inside of you has you jolting, so sensitive that you can feel every spurt of it as he paints your walls pearly white, and it just keeps coming. What little space left inside your cunt, now filled with him as he swears into your shoulder, crumpling down on top of you as he comes down from his high.

For a moment, the only sound in the air is the dance of your heavy breaths, intertwined so wonderfully that you can't tell what is coming from who.

Then, Rhett starts to chuckle, "damn, girl, didn't even let me get you home first."

"Your fault," smiling, you lean into the kisses he's peppering with, "you're carrying me to the shower, too, Cowboy." 

You don't need to look to know that he's rolling his eyes, "of course, babydoll."  

[alectricblue]

Saw this tag game on another post and thought I'd do it (idk if I've done it before, maybe something similar, but my answers will be different anyway)

1. Were you named after anyone?

Nope My chosen name (Allister) however, is from a youtuber who has a very cool name and I stole it (Alasdair Beckett-King, very funny videos and he has great hair too). I adapted it a bit so people in Spain would at least have an idea of how to pronounce it at first glance (hopefully) It has nothing to do with any Crowley (which I did not realize was a thing until recently), tho for a bit I named myself AJ like Good Omens Crowley, but I don't like how it sounds in Spanish...

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last month probably

3. Do you have kids?

No. And I don't want any. I don't dislike them, but it's not for me

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

Judo, karate and football (the indoors kind). All as a kid/teen. Now my brother and I walk every week day and go up and down stairs (when we remember...) One day I want to try to go to a gym to get some muscle, but not too much, just a bit of definition. Also, I'd enjoy doing rock climbing, but not competitive climbing or anything like that

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Sometimes

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Irl: the way they move their face and hands when they speak, which then I subconsciously use to recognize people, bc I'm a bit face blind Online: the way they choose to express themselves

7. What's your eye color?

Gray/light blue on the outside and artichoke green/lime on the inside

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I like both, but I'd rather watch a happy ending. For scary things I prefer to watch Markiplier's scary games videos

9. Any talents?

I'm VERY good at jigsaw puzzles

10. Where were you born?

East of Spain, by some of the best Mediterranean coasts 😁. I enjoy it here, but one day I'd like to live in the UK, at least for a bit, I think I'd like it there

11. What are your hobbies?

Listening to music, singing, making art (crafting, building, drawing, painting, writing, ...), watching media (shows, panel shows, youtube, twitch), video games (rhythm/dancing, platformer, puzzle... Also minecraft, powerwash sim, potion craft...), going for walks, exercise, learning languages (especially English) If I had any good ones close, I'd go to theatres and museums too. And, if I had money, I'd travel. I'm also slowly learning about taking care of plants

12. Do you have any pets?

Not yet. I'd love to have dogs, cats, frogs, snakes... or anything really. I love animals. But I think cats and frogs would be the best fit for me, considering my personality and current lifestyle I've always wanted a dog, but I've only had a turtle and a hamster

13. How tall are you?

1.63m or 5’3”

14. Favorite subject in school?

Biology and technology

15. Dream job?

Anything that pays me enough to be independent and let me do all my hobbies Although, if I ever have the patience, base skill, and required mental fortitude, I'd go for general robotics and/or prop making (for film and/or theatre)

No pressure tags in no particular order (I tried to tag as many people as I could, but apparently there's a tag limit 😅):

@swamp-communism @they-thespian666 @strongsuits @skelesona @shinekittenace @yeetmewithachainsaw @rockium-z @gordonzola-ramen @vampireopossum @libraryfag @frostytheduck @tetostar @xyrnys @normalscientist @dolltwink @anxi0usgh0st05 @piersgender

@mettatonsass @sinfulauthor @flaretheidiot @sneebles-mcgee @pivotallemonade @aroace-genderfluid-snake @monstrousmaws @satanic-leaf @virtualunease @villowrose @handrazedsun @ceiltheoutcast @atroph1k @entropy-sea-system @abby-cat99928 @maroroque @galaxgay

@realyfroggyfrog @angrysheep @llamaflower @ultrabean @sea-salt-sky @queerestqueertoeverqueer @crowleys-queen @foolishlovers @cassieno @crowleys-hips @argylepiratewd @trianglebird4 @sugarplumanderson @underlilithswings21 @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @healingmyinnerteen

and anyone else that sees this, consider yourself tagged!